Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy had been in the Prison for a few days, at this point.

Sam was present as Dream had dragged him through the portal, bloodied and empty-eyed. The boy hadn’t fought back - hadn’t even spoken. It was so wholly unlike Tommy that Sam’d remained silent throughout the whole procedure, despite the questions that wanted to bubble through.

And Dream - well Dream was always imposing, but there was something so unhinged about him in that moment that it'd made Sam want to be quiet and still, like a mouse hiding in the tall grass as a hawk’s shadow passed by overhead. He didn’t want to catch the man’s attention.

So quiet and still he had remained, the classical neutral guardian, little better than a statue, a golem, as Dream locked the newly appointed prisoner up and departed once more.

It was only far later that night that Tommy had started crying.

It was quiet and pathetic - not the loud sobs of those crying out for attention, or the angry flailing and wailing of the powerless - but the kind of sobs that get wrenched from you when you have nothing left to give. Sam watched it over the security cameras, and felt in the pit of his stomach that something was very wrong.

And it was only the next day that he found out, by way of Bad, what had happened. The demon had whispered to him, eyes blazing with that uncanny red glow and a strangely cheerful smile on his lips, that Tommy and Tubbo had fought their final battle with Dream over the disks - and lost. Tubbo had been killed in action, and Tommy had vanished - no-one knew what’d become of him. Here Bad had paused, eyeing him expectantly, but Sam had said nothing.

He was the Warden, and the Prison’s secrets were his to keep.

But Tommy had been here for a few days, at this point, and though Sam appeared a statue, at times, he wasn’t truly made of stone. He had a heart, and he had human curiosity. So, today, he’d decided to engage the boy.

Tommy glanced up as the lava fell away, observing the process dully. He’d taken to sitting beside the bed, staring into the lavafall with his knees drawn up to his chest. As it was he spotted Sam right away, though his expression didn’t change.

Sam walked across the bridge as it appeared, hand on his sword in case Tommy tried to make a break for it - but the boy didn’t move.

“Brought you something different today, instead of the potatoes,” Sam said, setting down the plate he’d been carrying with his other hand. It wasn’t much - just some mushroom stew and a loaf of bread - but the kid had barely been eating anything since his arrival, and Sam wasn’t so hard-hearted as to let him just waste away.

Tommy glanced at the place. “You can keep it,” he muttered.

The words had none of his old fire to them, but at least it was a response. Sam shrugged. “I’m not going to. Eat it, toss it in the fire, do whatever you want - food’s yours now. Oh, and here.” He pulled a book and quill from his sack, and deposited it next to the plate.

Tommy looked at them, and a complicated series of emotions flickered across his face. “Dream send that?” He asked. Sam couldn’t figure out his tone.

“No. I figured you need something to do - since you’re just staring at the lava all day.”

“You can see that?” Tommy raised his eyebrows.

The Warden indicated a camera in the corner. “I can see everything that happens in this prison. Hear it, too.”

“Great. That’s just… great.” Tommy sighed, and scrubbed a hand across his face. Then he paused. “And when Dream visits? You’ll see that too?”

“He may ask me to step away from the cameras - but I informed him when he tasked me with building and guarding the Prison, that everything in here would be under my domain. So yes - I will be watching.”

Tommy blinked at him, then his eyes flickered to the lava again. When the kid didn’t say anything further, Sam shrugged internally and turned to go.

He was halfway back across the bridge when Tommy spoke again. Sam nearly missed it over the pop and hiss of the molten rock.

“Thank you,” he said.

Sam turned after a moment and nodded, then went and flicked the lever to secure the cell once more. The thought of Tommy’s small figure vanishing behind the lava wall stuck with him for a strangely long amount of time, after the fact.

-

Dream came to visit the day after that initial interaction. The demigod, would-be ruler of the server, swept into the entryway like he owned the place - which, he really did, though it all fell under Sam’s control.

“I’d like to see Tommy,” he said as he tapped the welcome desk, voice a veneer of pleasantry. Sam nodded.

“Please deposit your items in Locker One.”

“Ah, yeah, see - I don’t really want to do that.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to, if you want to visit with any prisoner.”

“And what if I just kill you?” So quick it was almost magic, Dream’s enchanted Netherite axe appeared in his hand, blade tucked under Sam’s chin.

Sam gazed back, unimpressed.

“If you kill me the prison will go into lockdown, and you will be eliminated. You are now contained within the system, in accordance with our agreement.”

There was a long, tense moment where Sam thought Dream was really going to take the opportunity to experience the Prison's lockdown procedures firsthand, before the blade withdrew.

“Yeah, ok.” Dream sheathed the axe behind his back and slouched, relaxed and pleasant once more. “Just wanted to see what you’d do. Whatever.”

He went and put his things away, obediently but somewhat impatiently following Sam’s instructions to navigate the prison.

“Am I gonna have to do this every time I come to visit?” He demanded as Sam directed him to set yet another respawn point.

“You seemed pleased when I showed you the Prison initially. Has your opinion changed?” Sam didn’t actually give a damn - this was his Prison and he had their agreement in writing, there was nothing Dream could do to him here - but he maintained what he thought of as his Customer Service voice.

“No, it’s still perfect, I just… didn’t think any of those countermeasures would be for me, y’know.” Dream chuckled. “Like, I commissioned this place - surely I can get a Fast Pass, or something.”

“Any manufactured gap in security measures for one person can lead to a breach in security measures for all - “

“Fine, yes, ok,” Dream cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. “I get it. The perfect prison, so on and so on. Are we nearly there yet?”

“The final portion will begin shortly,” Sam said, as they waited for the lava to disappear.

Then into the silence - against his better judgement - he murmured, “You seem eager.”

Dream responded to the shift in tone - Sam could’ve sworn the man had a sixth sense for any display of weakness in his proximity - and turned to him. His mask was shadowed in the low light. Sam could just make out a hairline fracture, where a recent fight must’ve cracked it.

“So what if I am?” He asked, voice also soft - but in a dangerous, lethal kind of way.

Sam shrugged and didn’t reply. It was the only way to get Dream’s interest to fade, just not engage him. Surely enough, after a moment Dream turned back to the lava. Surprisingly enough, though, he deigned to respond.

“I’ve just finally won, y’know? I guess, yeah, I am kind of jittery. See, when I dropped Tommy off here, he was still in shock after everything. But now he’s had some time to process, for his defeat to really settle in. I’ve won, Sam.” Dream’s fists clenched, and he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. He sounded happy - happier than Sam had heard him in a long while. “And now I can finally reclaim the rest of the SMP.”

Sam didn’t say anything - didn’t shudder, even as the urge to do so crawled up his shoulders.

The lava finally fell away, and the bridge began to crank its way forward, as Dream and TommyInnit finally made eye contact.

Tommy was sprawled out on his bed, leisurely writing in his journal, looking wholly at ease in his surroundings. It was not how he’d looked when Sam had checked the cameras not an hour before, and it was clearly not what Dream had been expecting.

The hunter stopped bouncing, and his fingers flexed, as if itching to reach for an axe that was no longer there.

The bridge cranked to a halt, and Tommy smiled.

“Dream!” He called, tossing the book beside him and sitting up. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d come by.”

“Tommy.” Dream leaned up against the barrier as Sam set about lowering the lava once again. Sam could see Tommy’s hand convulse in the blanket atop the bed, but his smile didn’t waver.

The lava ensconced them, and Sam went to his security camera monitor to watch as the barrier dropped. Dream was making a show of looking around. “Quite the digs you’ve got, here. All the obsidian suits you - finally, something you can’t blow up, right?” Dream laughed again. This time Sam did allow himself to shudder at the noise - now that nobody else could see.

“What a funny joke, Dream. You always did know just what to say in order to be a complete dick.” Tommy’s smile had turned more into a gritting of teeth. Dream sauntered closer.

“What’s your plan today, Tommy? Gonna try and suck up to me, convince me you’ve changed your mind? Maybe see if you can’t use me to distract Sam, stage an escape? Or maybe - “ He reached Tommy and leaned close, as if sharing a secret. Sam normally wouldn’t have been able to pick up what he said next - were this not the Prison.

“Or maybe,” Dream murmured, “You’re gonna try and piss me off so bad that I’ll finally take your last life, and you can be with your Tubbo again.”

Tommy didn’t immediately reply, staring fixedly past, and Dream turned his attention to the book lying next to him.

“So what’ve we got here? Penning your memoir?” He made as if to pick the book up, and Tommy -

Tommy surged upwards from the bed, tackling Dream around the middle, and sent the both of them flying into the lava.

[ TommyInnit tried to swim in lava. ]

[ Dream tried to swim in lava to escape TommyInnit. ]

-

If Tommy’s intention had been to piss off Dream, as Dream had postulated, then the kid had managed it - Dream was spitting mad when Sam went and collected him from the respawn point.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” The hunter was pacing around the obsidian like a caged wolf, fists clenching and unclenching for lack of a better outlet. “Where the fuck does he get off - Christ, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him for that little fucking stunt, holy hell. And here I thought he finally understood - stuck him in the most impenetrable prison in the world, and the futility of his situation still hasn’t made it through that dense fucking head - “

Sam walked up, and Dream paused in his manic movements, staring at him.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” He demanded, gesturing to the obsidian wall. “Get me out of here. Tommy and I need to have a… a talk.”

“Visiting hours are over, I’m afraid,” Sam eventually said. He didn’t quite know why he said it, only felt the rightness of it even as Dream stilled completely.

“I’m sorry, what?” He laughed. It was not a nice laugh. “You’re joking, right? What an awful fucking joke, at that - I spent like a half hour getting through all your contraptions, and you’re going to try and make me leave after five minutes? No way.”

“It’s not try and make you leave - your presence is no longer welcome in the Prison. You may come back and visit another day.”

The only sound was Dream’s harsh breathing. There was nothing he could do - he was trapped in the Prison just as thoroughly as Tommy was, with no pickaxe and mining fatigue, and they both knew it.

Sam could practically feel the weight of Dream’s eyes boring through him.

“You’re not taking his side, are you? That would be a very bad choice.” Somehow, even with the balance of the situation wholly in Sam's favor, Dream’s tone now felt more dangerous than when the man had been holding an axe to his neck.

Sam leaned heavily on his dead fish-eyed Creeper stare. “I’m a Warden, Dream. I’m acting as Warden. Surely you can understand.”

There was a long moment, interminable and fragile - then Dream huffed a laugh and relaxed. “You’re lucky I’ve known you so long, or I’d be awfully suspicious of you right now.”

Sam said nothing in return, but hefted his pickaxe and set about breaking the obsidian.

“By the way, Sam?” Dream said, moving away and leaning against the wall as the Warden got to work. “About that book - I know you must’ve given it to him, though I don’t know why - and I don’t really care,” he raised his hand as if to forestall an explanation that Sam hadn’t particularly been rushing to give. “Just don’t give him anything else. I’ll be burning it, next time I visit.”

Sam clenched his jaw and kept swinging.

-

Later that day, after Dream had left to vent that still-simmering rage elsewhere, Sam went back to see Tommy. The boy was sitting on the floor again, dozing against the wall - but his eyes flew open and he rocketed to his feet at the first noise of the bridge moving. He sagged against the bed when he saw that it was only Sam.

“I thought - well, when the two of you didn’t come back right away I’d hoped that he’d just left, but I didn’t quite know,” he stuttered, as if explaining himself. His nervousness unsettled Sam, beneath his Warden persona. The Warden didn’t let it show.

“He won’t be coming back today. I can’t tell you the next time he intends to return, though.” He didn’t know why he was telling the kid this - didn’t know why he’d even come back to the cell in the first place. The heat of the lava was stifling.

Tommy nodded, then glanced up. “Did he mention the book?”

Sam frowned. “He did, actually. Said he’s going to burn it.”

The kid scowled, expression bitter and ugly. “Of course he did.”

Then, to Sam’s surprise and discomfort, Tommy sniffed and rubbed at his eyes as a few tears got loose.

“Fucking hate him. Hate him so goddamn much,” Tommy muttered. He looked more like a child than Sam’d ever seen him, and for once, the Warden had no idea what to do. He felt some impulse to place his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, maybe even pull him into a hug - but knew the action would be awkward and wholly unwelcome.

He watched, instead - which was really no less awkward and unwelcome, but what else was there to do - and said the first thing that came to his head: “Want me to take it for you?”

It surprised Tommy enough to break him out of his crying - he sniffed again, wiping the tear tracks off his face with a grimy sleeve. “What’d you say?”

“I asked if you want me to take it for you. The book, that is. I can keep it safe.”

“Oh.” Tommy frowned, glancing between the book and him. “I mean, yeah - it’s uh, it’s not quite done yet, but I guess - would you actually do that for me? I mean - if Dream asks, you’ve got to give it to him, don't you?”

“While we are in the walls of the Prison,” Sam said slowly, weighing the words so that Tommy might really believe them, “There is not a soul nor a power on Earth that can make me do anything I don’t want to do. I swear to you, Tommy, that if you give me the book it will be kept safe and untouched. Even from Dream.”

“Oh,” Tommy said again, this time a little smaller, a little more uncertain. It looked like he was afraid to hope. Sam’s heart seized.

Sam could see why Dream was so afraid of Tommy, and attachments - because Sam could feel one forming right now, and it would be bad news for Dream if it became fully realized.

“You won’t read it, right? It’s very private - and like I said, I haven’t had the time to finish it.” Tommy picked up the book and held it to his chest, looking torn.

“On my honor as Warden,” was all Sam had to offer, and that seemed to be good enough. Tommy nodded seriously and passed the book to him, and Sam tucked it away in his bag.

This time, he knew why Tommy’s curled-up figure stayed in his mind’s eye for hours after the lava had enveloped his cell once more - knew, and wondered just what he was going to do about it.

-

True to form, Dream visited the next day - and despite his angry questions and rough search of Tommy’s cell, could find no book. Tommy insisted to the heavens above that he’d thrown it away, burned it, and Sam said nothing when the interrogation turned his way, so Dream had no choice but to believe the child.

When Dream instead asked he'd been writing, Tommy had merely widened his eyes and replied mockingly, “Oh, just the secret to resurrecting people. Wasn’t that what you were saying you had, Dream? Some big secret to bringing Tubbo back, that Schlatt gave you when he died? Yeah, I can write bullshit too, thanks.”

Silence. Tommy snorted in response to some shift in body language that only he knew Dream well enough to perceive, and the hunter turned and left without a word.

But he came back the next day. And the next. And Sam watched as Tommy got even more worn down, as his spirit was drained, and wondered just how long the kid would manage to hold out. Surely not as long as Dream could keep this up - the man was singularly dedicated, and Tommy had nowhere left to escape to, no more cards tucked up his sleeve.

Sam kept his promise, though. The book got a dedicated slot in Sam’s ender chest, safe even in death, and Dream remained none the wiser.

-

A respite came in the form of not any significant action on Sam’s part, but a passing comment in the stream of chatter Dream always spewed during the lockdown procedures.

“We’ve got this whole Egg mess now, of course, so I’ll have to deal with that - may take a trip this week to go pick up some more Totems, you know, just do a treasure haul - can’t exactly have Bad ruining my server now that Tommy’s out of the way,” he punctuated with a chuckle.

Sam didn't typically respond to these monologues, so he didn't comment - but as he’s escorting Dream away later that evening, leaving an unresponsive and shaking Tommy behind, he said neutrally and easily, “Shall I expect you tomorrow? I may be away.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I probably won’t be by for the next week at least - between the gearing up and the fighting that I’m expecting to break out.”

“Alright. I will be seeing you, then.” Sam nodded, and Dream threw him a dismissive salute as he stepped out into the bright sunlight. Sam stared at his dwindling silhouette until the doors were shut once more.

Then he went to his ender chest, pulled out a book, and moved through the tunnels in the prison that only he knew about, until he was standing before a cell once more, watching as the lava drained away.

Tommy was used to the procedure enough by now that he didn't flinch as the bridge moved, only watched with interest. Sam thought distantly that Dream would probably, eventually, exploit that - luring Tommy into a false sense of security with this pseudo-schedule they’ve set up of only one visit per day. He wondered what he himself would do, if Dream ever came back for a second go-round. What he might say.

“Why do you do this?” was what Tommy greeted him with, as the bridge clicked into place - not so much accusation in his tone as genuine curiosity. Sam thought the accusation might be easier to handle.

“Dream and I have a contract,” Sam replied. He stepped off the bridge and set down today’s meal: steak and some roasted carrots. “He came to me months ago, offering me the opportunity to exercise my abilities on a scale I’d never been able to before. In exchange I had to guarantee him the use of this place’s facilities.”

“Couldn’t you just not let him in? If you really wanted to?”

Sam considered that. “I might,” he said slowly. “But it’s a matter of legality, and of honor. I am bound to him.”

Tommy grimaced, but nodded. “About what I expected,” he shrugged, and stood to collect his plate. The lava finished falling behind Sam, and the barrier dropped.

“Aren't you going to ask me to defy Dream?” Sam asked with a kind of morbid curiosity.

Tommy snorted. “I know a losing cause when I see one, Sam. Fought on the side of one all my life, in some form or another. I wasn’t even going to bother with asking you to free me or anything - just wondered why you put up with him, is all.” He took a bite of the carrots and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, this is pretty good! You’re getting better at cooking - it’s hardly even burnt this time.”

Sam’s lips twitched, and Tommy choked. “You laughed!” He sputtered, when the bit of carrot finally cleared his airway. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

“I did no such thing,” Sam said quellingly, and to distract the boy, reached into his bag and pulled out the book. Tommy stilled and tracked the movement with his eyes, hardly seeming to breathe.

Sam wondered, certainly not for the first time, just what Tommy had written in it.

“Dream says he won’t be back for at least a week, so I thought it safe to return this to you. If he attempts to make a surprise visit tomorrow, I will be able to stall for enough time to recollect and hide the book, so you need not worry.” 

Sam placed the book on the ground and stepped away, careful as always to maintain some distance between himself and Tommy.

Tommy stood, also oh so careful, and scooped the book up. He held it gently. His hands were shaking. “Alright,” he said, then seemed to come back to himself a bit. “Alright,” he said again, looking at Sam. “That’s good. That’s… that’s very good. Um, thank you.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s yours, after all. Nothing to thank me for.”

“Right, right. And you didn’t, um, read it? Or anything?”

“I promise that I did not.”

“Ok. Thank you again. And please,” Tommy held up a hand as Sam began to respond, “Don’t tell me not to say that. Just… don’t.”

There was stifling silence in the cell.

“Alright.” Sam looked at the kid sitting on the bed, and couldn’t really take it anymore. He reactivated the barrier as Tommy settled back down with his newly acquired items. “Goodnight, Tommy,” he offered in parting, as he reactivated the bridge.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

Sam didn't look back as the lava descended around Tommy, this time - he didn't want to see it.

Chapter Text

It was that night that Tommy also began talking to him, via the cameras.

That was somewhat expected, to be honest - one thing that Tommy and Dream had in common was that they loved to talk, and now that Tommy knew somebody was maybe listening at whatever point, it afforded him the opportunity to conduct a pseudo-conversation.

The topic of discussion tended to vary, flowing from one subject to another with little apparent rhyme or reason to the progression. Sometimes Tommy would ramble for hours about women and how skilled he was at talking to them - making his age very obvious in the process, and how little romantic interaction he’d truly had. Sometimes he would talk about L’Manberg, sharing little stories about his fondest memories of the revolution. Sometimes he talked about his family, about Tubbo - the good and the ugly of his relationships with them.

This was how Sam found out about all the fucked-up things that Dream had done to Tommy in exile - knowledge that was about to make his life extremely complicated.

“And yeah, so that time he found out that I’d dug this whole vault to store my stuff in - and let me tell you, that was when he got really angry, oh man. Blew the whole fuckin’ place up - I was dealing with blisters and shit for weeks. Had to practically chug golden apples to get rid of the scarring - and Techno really did not like that,” Tommy laughed, “the prick. ‘Oh, Tommy, don’t eat my golden apples, have this steak instead’,” he pitched his voice low in a mocking imitation of Technoblade. “Wouldn’t fuckin’ listen to me when I told ‘em I needed the status benefits in case Dream came knocking again. He came to visit a whole bunch while I was living at Techno’s - that was real exciting, I had to drink an invisibility pot 'n hide in this box every time he came ‘round. Still don’t know how he knew - Techno told me it was ‘cause I built that whole tower out front, but I told ‘im, I says, anybody can build a cobblestone tower! No way he knows it’s me! The Blade's like that sometimes, he just gets a thought in his head and decides he’s right and then there’s no discussing with him, it’s just he’s right and you’re wrong and that’s that.”

Tommy sighed. “What a prick,” he said again, but it was less fond this time - more angry. The kid lapsed into silence for a while after that.

Sam couldn’t help but ask about it when he brought by the evening meal.

“Were you telling the truth earlier?” He asked as he watched Tommy tuck in. Roasted chicken today, paired with the baked potatoes he’d already made - not the most creative meal, but he’d been in a hurry.

“Aha! I knew that you were listening,” Tommy said around a mouthful of potato. He swallowed noisily. “Truth about what? About Technoblade? Because yeah, dude’s a real asshole, let me tell you what - “

“No, I meant about Dream,” Sam cut Tommy off impatiently. Tommy stilled, and Sam realized he’d never raised his voice like that before, not in his role as Warden. He took a step back and put his hands where Tommy could see them, and Tommy relaxed - and that in and of itself was telling.

“Yes, that was also the truth. What bit in particular?”

“The - the exploding all your stuff. And hurting you, when he found your vault.”

“Oh, that? Of course! Why would I lie about something like that? Especially,” he cut off a bit of chicken and crammed it in his mouth, “when I don’t even know if you’re listening.”

Sam watched him eat. “You could be trying to set me against Dream,” he said slowly. “Sway me to your side.”

Tommy snorted bitterly. “Yeah, I might try that, if I really thought you’d care.”

Shot to the heart. Sam sighed and turned to leave; there was a clatter of plate and cutlery behind him.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to be mean, it just came out. Please don’t leave.”

Sam turned back, and Tommy was right behind him, hand hovering anxiously over Sam’s elbow but not quite touching. Tommy yanked the hand away when he realized Sam was looking, and backed up until his knees hit the bed and folded.

“Sorry, um,” the kid said, stuttering and nervous again in a way that he hadn’t been since the first time they’d spoken. “Can you just, uh, stay while I eat? I promise I won’t do anything else.”

Sam was blanking out. He very slowly moved to the opposite wall of the cell and took a seat. The obsidian was warm, almost uncomfortably hot, against his back.

Tommy watched him tensely, but seemed to relax when it became apparent Sam wasn’t going to be doing anything else. He began eating again.

“So was it really so awful, then?” Sam asks after a while, into the silence. “In Logstedshire?”

Tommy thought about it and shrugged. “Depends on your definition of awful, I guess. Some of the time it wasn’t so bad. I was outside and everything, and I could do what I wanted when Dream wasn’t around. But nobody ever came to visit, ‘cept for Dream, ’n you know how he is. And you, I guess.”

“What about me?”

“Well you came to visit me, right? At the very beginning of it all. Told me you’d help out, some. That was nice. Other than you, I think only Quackity came by.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Sam shifted. “I meant to visit more, but Dream told me I shouldn’t. He wanted me to work more on the prison, get it done faster. Told me I didn’t need to bother with checking up on you, since he had it handled.”

“Mm. Yeah, found out that he was keeping everybody away after the fact. I will admit,” Tommy stabbed his fork in Sam’s direction for emphasis, “that he did a neat little job there, winding me up like he did. If he hadn’t lost it and blown up everything, I was about a few days from killing myself. So truly, he is a master of his craft.”

“You were going to kill yourself?” Sam echoed incredulously.

“Well, yeah.” Tommy frowned and shifted on the bed. “Didn’t you hear Dream, before? I’m on my last life. I just kind of figured that if nobody cared to see me anymore, not even Tubbo, and that was how the rest of my life was going to be… well, it just wasn’t particularly a life I wanted to keep living. So I built this big ol’ tower, and was gonna jump.”

He shrugged again. “Didn’t though, obviously. And now I’m here! Gotta say, not much has changed - and now I can’t even escape by dying, how fucked up is that.”

Sam blinked. He was suddenly very glad that he’d taken a seat for this conversation.

“I am… sorry,” he said eventually. He felt disconnected from his voice - internally, he was still reeling.

Tommy cocked his head to the side. “What’re you sorry for? The chicken? ‘Cause I gotta admit Sam, this isn’t some of your best work.”

“No, the… everything else. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have… I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”

“Oh.” Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you don’t have to apologize for that - I wasn’t telling you just to make you feel bad.” Then he laughed weakly. “I mean, if you were really sorry, you could just let me out - right?”

Sam didn’t - couldn’t - respond, just tapped a thumb against his thigh. He felt like crying. Tommy watched him. Sam could only imagine what the kid was thinking.

“That was why I was so surprised to see the book again,” Tommy eventually said, apropos of nothing. It broke the pall that had settled over them, and Sam felt like he could breathe again.

“What?” He asked, eloquently.

“The book.” Tommy took another bite of chicken and talked around it. Sam wondered vaguely who’d taught him his table manners - if anybody had ever even bothered. “Honestly, when I gave it to you, I was still kind of 50/50 on you like, burning it, handing it over to Dream at the first opportunity. Y’know. Since you two seemed like friends ’n all.”

“We were friends at one point, but no longer,” Sam corrected. Then his brain caught up. “Wait, you thought I was just going to burn it? Why? I promised I’d keep it safe!”

“Well I dunno! I haven’t exactly had a surplus of trustworthy adults in my life, Mr. Sam the Warden - Lord knows Dream burnt my shit all the time! I just didn’t know what to expect!” Tommy waved his knife around, then scowled and fumbled as his movement upset the plate in his lap. “I mean, I still kind of don’t,” he muttered while righting the whole mess.

“I’m not going to burn your stuff, Tommy,” Sam said. He was starting to realize that it was important he say these things - he’d just thought it a given. Then he prompted, “Still kind of don’t… what?”

“You’re very unpredictable,” Tommy dragged each syllable out in the manner of somebody unused to larger words. “Perplexing. Persnickety. You befuddle me.”

“I befuddle you,” Sam repeated dryly.

Tommy nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

“And how do I befuddle you?”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, then paused and squinted. “What does befuddle mean, again? I already know, of course, just want to make sure that you do. Y’know, so we’re on the same page ’n all.”

“Befuddle means to - to confuse. You’re saying I confuse you.”

“Ah! Yes!” Tommy pointed at him triumphantly. “You do confuse me.”

“Yes. So how do I confuse you? How am I unpredictable? I should think,” Sam added wryly. “That of all the people you know, I am the most predictable - given the relative chaos of your life.”

“Sure, but you… I dunno. It’s tough to get a bead on you. Sometimes I think you like me - then you’ll just vanish for days, or bring Dream by, and not do anything while he’s… y’know, being his unpleasant self. But then sometimes I think you must dislike me - and let me tell you, Sam, people do tend to dislike me, I’ve been told I’m a very dislikable person - sometimes I think you must dislike me, but then you do something like this.” He gestured at Sam.

“Like this?”

“Sit. Talk. Act like you care.”

Sam nodded and considered that. “As Warden, I’m not supposed to get attached - or feel sympathetic to - my prisoners.”

“Right, right. And you’ve gotta be Warden ‘cause of that, that contract thing.”

Another dead zone in the conversation. Sam listened to the sizzle of lava and the wet noise of Tommy’s chewing.

“Dream must’ve told you, though,” Tommy said eventually. Sam was struck once more by how neither he nor Dream could stand a prolonged silence.

“Told me what?”

“That, that - well, you and Dream are just very similar, is all. He played a similar role by looking after me in Logstedshire, before blowing everything up. He was nice sometimes, you know - it was what made everything so confusing. And I think he knew that, and that’s why he did it. In any case - I guess that’s also why I can’t figure you out, is ‘cause you’re also like, my jailer here, but you’re so different from him. And then he’s been coming around too and talking with me, and it’s just made my brain,” he shook his head as he considered his words, “y’know, all wonky.”

“Wonky,” Sam tested the word out.

“Yeah. Wonky. Jesus, Sam - it’s like you’ve never talked to a normal person before,” Tommy barked a laugh. He’d finished his chicken.

“Do you qualify?” Sam asked dryly. He stood to pick up the plate, motions slow and measured as he entered Tommy’s personal space. The boy’s eyes tracked his movement intently, but a big grin split his face.

"Sam the Warden, was that a joke? Did you just make a joke at me?”

“No, it was a genuine question - I find myself truly concerned for your mental stability.”

“Oh.” Tommy wilted a bit. Sam eyed him, then snorted.

“Yes, it was a joke, Tommy.”

“I knew it!” Tommy exploded off the bed, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew you weren’t a lost cause - oh Sam, my friend, we are going to have such a good time together. I am going to teach you humor.”

“I would say that I look forward to it, but that would be lying,” Sam said, raising his voice as Tommy lost his shit (“A second joke in a row, the man is on fire!”) He reactivated the barrier and prepared to leave.

“Wait - you’re coming back tomorrow, right?” The jubilation had gone out of Tommy’s voice, and Sam glanced at him.

“What? Yeah, I’ll be by. Oh, speaking of which - do you have any food requests? Since you found the chicken… unpalatable.”

“I don’t know what that means, but yeah, uh - can I get something sweet? Like, maybe some berries?” Tommy hunched over in something like a hopeful cringe. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I can do that. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Sam-I-Am!”

As the curtain of lava enveloped the cell once more, Tommy was stretched out on the bed, writing in his book and whistling cheerfully. It was the happiest Sam had seen him since arriving at the prison.

Sam… had a lot to think about.

-

He went hunting for redberries on the outskirts of town, the next day, mainly to satisfy his curiosity about the progress of the blood vines. There were plenty of other places to forage, particularly around his base, but - but Dream didn’t do things without reason, so if he was concerned enough to begin scrounging up Totems of Undying, then Sam could be concerned enough to take a peek outside.

And damn, had he been unaware of the server's happenings.

The Egg had fairly exploded with growth, creeping across town and draining the color from its surroundings. Church Prime was a lone bastion; if the corruption was spreading this quickly, then soon even the prison would need to be concerned with protection.

He was standing on a hill, overlooking it all, when Dream materialized from the brush and joined him.

“Funny to see you finally leave your shell, Warden. It’s been some time.”

“Heya.” Sam shifted his pack to a more secure position on his shoulder, trying to hide his initial nervous flinch. Truth be told, it had been some time since he’d seen Dream outside the safety of the prison. It left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“Taking in the view?”

“Something like that.” Sam hesitated. “I hadn’t realized how bad it’d gotten.”

“Oh yeah.” Dream turned to the town, and for a moment it could’ve been the early days of the server again - nothing much built except for the community house, two of them clambering up to the highest points of the surrounding area and sharing their ideas for the future.

Sam took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it’s not going too well,” Dream continued, oblivious to the train of Sam’s thoughts. “I’ll admit that I tried for negotiations with them at first, which was silly of me. Should’ve just blown the damn Egg up straight away - now Bad and Ant are suspicious of my motivations, and I can’t get within a mile of it without them dogging my every move. When they’re not trying to convert me, that is.”

“Convert you? To what?”

“To their weird egg religion, I guess. I dunno, the red in Bad’s outfit turned white, the blue in Ant’s eyes has turned red, so they’ve got something weird going on besides just like, indoctrination.”

“A red Dream,” Sam mused. “Now that would be interesting to see.”

“A crazy red Dream,” Dream corrected. “They’re not sane.”

“I don’t feel like most on this server are very sane, these days.”

Dream’s mask turned towards him. “That’s kinda rich, coming from you.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, yeah. You used to be so straightforward, Sam. So simple. All you wanted to do was build. Now, though - now I can’t quite figure you out.”

“That’s funny; Tommy actually told me the same thing, yesterday.”

“Did he?” Dream shrugged. “Kid’s not entirely dumb, after all. Give him a cookie.”

“Berries, actually,” Sam corrected without thinking - then winced, as Dream seemed to perk up. The relaxed slouch he’d had, so like the old Dream, went away.

“Berries, you say? Is that why you’re tramping through the woods out here - collecting some berries for our most favorite prisoner?” Dream paused as something seemed to dawn on him. “Sam, you’re not - you’re not getting soft, are you?”

“He’s a growing kid, he needs more than potatoes,” Sam grunted. It was the wrong defense; Dream wheezed.

“You are! You are getting soft. I leave for a week and he’s already got his hooks into your heart - the conniving little rat. What, did he thank you for visiting, or something? Tell you he doesn’t really blame you for imprisoning him - not when the mean, terrible Dream was the one who really put you up to it? Have you been talking to him?”

“Of course I talk to him. I’m the Warden. He’s my only prisoner.”

“No, but I mean talk to him. Has he told you about all his trauma, Sam? The poor, unfortunate course of his life?”

Dream unhooked his axe and idly flipped it around his hand. Sam took an involuntary step back.

“He told me all of that too, you know. He's talked about his exile, right? Told you we used to be friends, while I was the only person to take care of him. Don't say it hasn't come up - I'll start to get jealous."

Sam tracked the arcs of Dream’s axe carefully. “He told me that you kept everybody away - but he didn’t need to tell me that. Don’t you remember? You lied to me. Told me he was doing fine.”

Dream laughed.

“He was doing fine, you idiot. Whatever he told you is bullshit. If he’d listened to me, did what I said, there never would’ve been any problems. But Tommy’s apparently just incapable of following the rules - he’s always got to try and make new ones. It’s in his nature.”

Dream took a step towards Sam. Sam took another step away, and unsheathed his sword, holding it in an uneasy guard.

“Dream, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but there’s no need to…”

“I’m thinking that after this little encounter, I’m never going to see you outside the Prison again. And I’m thinking that you’re really starting to piss me off.”

With little fanfare, Dream lunged in with a brutal overhead strike - which would’ve cut Sam’s ribcage open if he hadn’t been expecting it. He dodged and parried, letting the axe slide down the length of his sword and safely away.

“I know your fighting style,” Sam huffed as they circled each other. “You’re not going to be able to get the jump on me.”

“You’re out of practice, though, old friend," Dream spat. "All that attention to building and guarding your Prison has left you weak. You won’t be able to hold me for long.”

And true enough, as the fight played out, Dream began slipping little hits through Sam’s guard. A nick here, a swing that came too close there. He could feel the sting of open cuts in a dozen different places as he rolled back, out of the way of another one of those wide, wild swings.

“How've you got the stamina for this?” Sam asked. “Practicing fighting’s one thing, but with all this overextending you’re doing, you should’ve dropped by now.”

“I’m not your Dream anymore, idiot,” the hunter rebutted. “You remember me as just some guy. Sparring with you, doing those little Manhunts - that was all child’s play. When you’ve got only yourself to rely on, you’ve got to learn how to be strong,” he grunted as he went for another powerful horizontal swing. Sam wasn’t quick enough to dodge this one, and it left a rent in the back of his armor. He could feel the broken metal start to tear into his skin.

“And why do you have only yourself to rely on? What happened?”

That actually got Dream to stop for a second - he full froze as Sam scrambled back, mask impassive. “Tommy happened. I thought you knew that already.”

“But he’s just Tommy. He’s just a kid, I don’t understand - “

“He’s everything! He’s the whole reason this server fell apart - the reason for Manburg and L’Manberg, for the Revolution, for the Pet Wars - all of it! D’you remember how this place used to be, Sam? It used to be beautiful - idyllic. It used to be perfect. And then I let that ungrateful fucking idiot in, and he ruined everything.” He unfroze, and punctuated each harsh word with a swing. By the end of the sentence, his axe was buried in the dirt that Sam had just occupied; the Warden had only just managed to roll out of the way.

Dream wrenched the axe out of the ground and went in for one final overhand chop, meant to be a finishing blow; Sam got his sword up and blocked it head-on. The other man had the height advantage, and Sam’s arms trembled as the hunter leaned into the blow.

Then an arrow flew out of the woods and nearly blew Dream’s mask clean off.

Dream stumbled backwards, raising his shield, and Sam's arms collapsed at the sudden lack of opposing force. Two men emerged from the brush.

“Well lookie here! We found ourselves the wily little charlatan - you led us on quite the goose chase, Dream.” It was Bad’s voice but not quite Bad’s face - the red had been leeched out of it, leaving him a figure of black and white. The cheeriness was familiar, but the oozing menace Sam could feel even across the clearing was not.

Ant was the one with the crossbow. He’d already reloaded it and edged towards Sam, sights fixed on Dream and finger on the trigger. When Dream didn’t move, he crouched and helped Sam get upright.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” he murmured as Bad held Dream’s attention, chattering some more. “Used to be that you could trounce Dream in a fair fight, Warden - what happened to that?”

“You’re assuming what was just happening here was a fair fight,” Sam murmured back. “I’m not so sure. Thanks for the help, though.”

He glanced up, and realized that true to Dream’s word, the blue of Ant’s eyes had transformed into red. He flinched, and tried to play it off as simple pain.

“Of course. Come back with us? We’ve got a safe place for you - Dream won’t be able to get you there.”

“Sorry, ‘fraid I can’t. Got a prisoner to attend to.”

Ant’s hand closed around his shoulder. “I really must insist. You’re in no condition to be wandering around alone.”

“And I'm really going to have to decline.” He winced as the grip on his shoulder clenched down with supernatural strength, bending even his Netherite. There was some kind of battle of the gods being waged out here, and he'd been wandering around looking for damn berries - more the idiot he.

“In fact,” he continued, “And again, thanks for the help, but I’ve really got to be going.”

His grasping hand finally collided with his bag, and the suddenly very important and essential item within: his stack of ender pearls. He flung one far and away, and for a moment everybody else in the clearing gaped at him - then seconds later, he gasped with pain as he landed multiple hills over.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, as all the consequences of that confrontation shouted their protestations.

He dragged himself homeward.

Chapter Text

Or, that is, he meant to drag himself home - but as he was passing the Prison, realized that he still had a bag full of (now partially-crushed) redberries for Tommy, and the boy was expecting him.

He groaned a little, to himself - but nobody was around to see it, so he could pretend the lapse in discipline never really happened.

As he slumped through the Nether portal that would take him to the proximity of the Prison - the process of entry was complicated, even for him - he could feel the wound on his back trying to close and reopening as the torn metal agitated it. He needed to get it off as soon as possible, but after the debacle of berry-hunting, he’d still take shitty, painful armor over nothing at all.

It was a relief when the dark, imposing walls of the Prison closed around him once more.

He went through the motions of going to see Tommy in a kind of haze, so well-acquainted with performing the security protocols that he didn’t really need to employ his brain. That was good, because his brain was largely occupied with not fainting.

The lava parted and he could see Tommy perk up, tossing his book aside and grinning with an almost sickening lack of fear as he saw only Sam on the other side of the room. The grin faded into an uneasy smile, then a furrowed brow and frown, as Sam staggered onto the bridge.

“Sam, are you alright? It’s kind of difficult to see, but you look…” he trailed off as the bridge cranked closer. “Oh dear. You do not look good, big man.”

“Big man? Is that what I am now? Feelin’ kinda small,” Sam wheezed as the bridge touched against the cell floor. He stumbled off, catching himself on the barrier before sliding slowly down against it.

“No, you’re a big man, Sam, the biggest. Now, can you lower the lava for me? I’d like to help you, but the barrier’s in the way. Sam, can you hear me? I need you to lower the barrier before you pass out, or anything idiotic like that.”

“‘m not an idiot,” Sam slurred. “You always overuse that insult, Dream.”

Tommy inhaled sharply.

“Alright, genius - please lower the barrier, before your brilliant ass bleeds to death not two feet away from me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved a hand and fumbled with the remote. A click, and the lava began falling. Tommy fidgeted anxiously until the barrier finally dropped, then surged forward to kneel at Sam’s side.

“What happened to you?” He demanded as he helped Sam sit upright, surprisingly keen eyes clearly taking a catalogue of the Warden’s injuries.

“I have had,” Sam paused to spit out a gob of saliva and blood, “shit taste in friends. Historically.” He emphasized the declaration with a gesture, then groaned as it pulled his back injury.

“Well, nobody’s arguing with that,” Tommy murmured. Then louder, he said, “I’m going to have to move you a bit, to check out your back. Can you do that for me?”

Sam groaned again - honestly, it was more of a whine - but compliantly maneuvered himself around.

The boy tutted behind him, then choked.

“Sam, what the fuck is this?”

“What, the cut? I mean yeah, it felt pretty nasty, but it’s just a - “

“No, this.” There was a strange tugging sensation, almost as if part of his back was being pulled away.

“What the actual fuck,” Tommy repeated quietly. It was the most serious Sam had heard him thus far - frightened, even.

“Tommy, I have to say, your bedside manner is not so good. You’re kinda freakin’ me out.” Sam chuckled wetly. Tommy did not.

“Sorry. There’s a - well, let me try and - “

The tugging sensation increased, and Sam began to ask just what Tommy was doing - only for a scream to rip its way out instead, as the tugging was replaced by blinding pain. He fell back to the floor, head bouncing off the unforgiving stone.

After a second, he came back to himself, and looked up. “Tommy, what did you - “

He cut off when he saw what Tommy was staring at, clenched in the boy’s hand.

It was a blood vine.

It was a bloody blood vine.

Tommy had just been tugging at his back, and now there was a bloody blood vine twisting in his fist.

Sam faced away to vomit as that information processed.

“What is it?” Tommy asked, seeming repulsed yet fascinated.

“Don’t hold it,” Sam said, as soon as he was capable of speech again. “Not good.”

“Well yeah, I could guess that.” Thankfully, Tommy seemed to have reached the limit of his curiosity - he wound up his arm and flung the vine far into the lava lake. Sam could almost swear there was a small, high-pitched scream as the thing writhed and burnt.

There was a moment of silence, then Tommy moved to help Sam once more.

“Alright, shelving that for later - what actually happened? Was it Dream? Certainly not - it wasn’t like, Technoblade or anybody, right? Another L’Manberg-type incident? Or did you just piss somebody off?”

“Well, there’s certainly something going on in town, but yeah, it was Dream.” Sam lifted his arms as Tommy fiddled with the buckles of his armor. The kid grumbled as the bent pieces didn’t pull away like they ought to, which was surprisingly endearing. The chest piece was the most difficult part - a bit of the metal caught and ripped at his wound even as Tommy gently lifted it away, one last little parting gift. He bit down on the pained grunt that wanted to escape.

He wasn’t really in any better physical condition than he’d been when he’d first stumbled away from the fight, but the haze that he’d attributed to that condition seemed to be fading. He was starting to think that it was not the pain but the blood vine that'd so disoriented him - and shuddered to think what might’ve happened if he’d just stumbled home like he’d originally intended.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy muttered, and Sam realized that he’d caught the shudder.

“No, it’s fine,” he rasped back. His voice was going, after the events of the day. He coughed.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” he tried again, and his voice came out a little more whole this time.

Tommy snorted. “I’ll not worry about you once you’re not bleeding out all over my nice obsidian floors. This place isn’t easy to clean, you know.”

“Yeah it is,” Sam closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose as Tommy started removing his tacky undershirt. The dried blood stuck to his open wounds and pulled at them as it was tugged away. “You just gotta run the lava over it.”

“Small problem there, genius: I am also in here, and I am also quite flammable.”

Sam snorted. “Then don’t be here.”

There was a pregnant pause, and he realized what he’d said. He sighed, and Tommy seemed to take that the wrong way.

“Got any healing potions, then?” The boy hurried to fill the gap in the conversation. “Cause I’ve got to say, I’m alright at medical aid in a pinch, but I think this is somewhat beyond my purview.”

Sam nodded. The frenetic, ’oh my God I nearly died’ energy was starting to leave him. He sagged against Tommy’s bed. “Check the bag.”

“Bag, bag… right.” Tommy plucked Sam’s bag up from the ground and began rummaging through it. Sam's security pass, which was really all Tommy needed to get out of the prison, was lying at the very top. The kid tossed it to the side without a second glance, but paused when he saw what was underneath.

“Sam - why've you got so many berries?” There was a strange catch to Tommy's voice. He was smiling, but his eyes looked sad.

Sam stared back. “For you, of course. You asked for ‘em.”

“Yeah, I asked for some. You must’ve got… like, multiple stacks in here.”

Sam shrugged. “Well if you liked them, then I wasn’t just gonna stop giving them to you. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Tommy repeated. He didn’t say it loudly - more like to himself - and Sam didn’t bother asking. His head lolled to the side - the edge of the bed wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was enough of an improvement over obsidian that he was considering passing out then and there. Tommy glanced over and saw his eyes shut.

“Uh oh. C’mon big man, stick with me now.” He upended the bag in order to more efficiently get to the bottles at the bottom - Sam could tell from the noise of it all. There was the sound of a cork, and then all of a sudden Tommy was in his face again.

“Alright, easy does it. I know, I know,” he soothed as Sam grumbled. “Just drink this and I’ll leave you alone. Can you do that for me?”

Sam rolled his eyes at the condescension and snatched the bottle from the kid’s hands - but froze when Tommy flinched.

Tommy exaggeratedly rolled his own eyes, in turn. “We can deal with my emotional trauma later, Sam - drink the fucking potion!”

“Alright, fine!” Sam downed it. It was a regeneration potion, one of his best. A little surprising that Tommy could pick it out so quickly - but then, the kid was a known thief. Stealing things probably rewarded the ability to tell value at a glance.

He groaned as the potion took effect, mercilessly binding his body back together. Tommy bit his lip as he watched the magic work.

“Don’t suppose you have any purified water, right? I don’t have a good feeling about what’s going to happen when that regen pot hits the bits of - that weird, wriggly vine - that were left in your back. Wish I could wash it out.”

“Purified - there’s still bits of it in there?” Sam demanded, then had to muffle another scream as, true to form, the healing magic reached his back - and began burning the parasite away.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be ok. Sam, Sam, look at me. Can you look at me, Sam? Don’t focus on it.” Tommy grabbed Sam's arms as he doubled over.

“It’s damn difficult to not - ugh, to not focus on it, Toms,” Sam gritted. Tommy floundered. Sam gripped his arms back, and sagged into the boy's shoulder. “Tell me something.”

“What? Tell you what?” Tommy asked desperately.

“I don’t know, anything. You’ve always got something to say - what, are you gonna clam up on me now?” Sam tried for a laugh, but only managed a wheeze. Tommy seemed on the verge of crying.

“Ok, yeah, um - I dunno, did I ever tell you what I’ve been writing in my book?”

“No Tommy. What’re you writing in your book?” Sam choked and twitched as the potion hit upon what must’ve been a root, buried deep in the flesh of his shoulder - he was starting to suspect that his armor might not have been responsible for the tearing sensation in his back, after all.

“It’s, uh - it’s Tubbo.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Tommy. He could feel before them the precipice of Things We Do Not Talk About, terrible and foreign.

“I’m writing down everything about me ’n Tubbo - our whole story, all the little details about us that nobody else knows. Or, well, knew. I’m going to be honest, Sam - I wasn’t expecting to live much longer, when I got here. I’ve got this terrible habit of making enemies out of - out of basically any important and scary person I can find.” Tommy laughed. It sounded all wrong. “And of course, Tubbo already died. Did Dream ever tell you how that happened? I’ve always hoped not, but you seem like the kind of guy who’s nice enough not to mention when he knows something he shouldn’t, so I’ve never been… quite sure.”

“Dream never said a thing about you and Tubbo - not to me, at least. Don’t think he considered my opinion important enough.”

“Alright. Good to know. Um, well, here’s the gist of it, I guess - y’know those disks I’ve always been chasing after?”

“Tommy, I think the whole server knows about the disks,” Sam rasped back sardonically. Tommy snorted and raised a hand as if to shove him, then though the better of it as Sam winced.

“Well, d’you know why I value ‘em so much?”

“Not really, no.”

“Tubbo was here on the server, with me, before everything. I mean, obviously you guys were here as well, but I didn’t really know you. Tubbo was the only friend I had around. And me ’n him, when we had some free time, we’d go and listen to those disks. Just the two of us, sitting out on the bench. No wars or anything.”

“So then, you know, Dream takes the disks. And I’ve gotta get ‘em back, Sam - it’s about the principle of the thing, you know. And I guess just, at some point, the disks started to mean everything … well, everything going back to the way it was. You know. I just get through, like, one more fight, one more negotiation, and maybe Tubbo and I would be able to sit on that bench, and just… breathe, again.”

As Sam's pained seizing died down to the occasional twitch, he fell back against the bed. Tommy moved to join him, staring out at the lava.

“Of course Tubbo exiled me, so that somewhat complicated things. And then there was the whole bit with Dream. And of course Techno, and L’Manberg, and everything - Niki burned the L’Mantree, did you know that? I think she’s got some, some… issues, if y’know what I’m saying.” Tommy leaned in and lowered his voice as he said it, as if imparting a secret. Sam huffed a laugh, and Tommy smiled, nudging him.

“But yeah. Tubbo and I made up, and Dream didn’t much like that, but I figured, I figured me ’n Tubbo could team up one last time and get the disks back, once ’n for all. It was this big whole setup - ah man, Sam, you shoulda been there, it was a pretty epic fight if I do say so myself. But then - then, ah… well, it was not so epic.”

Tommy’s lips twitched downwards, and he sniffed. Looking away from Sam to hide his expression, he continued. “And then Tubbo died, of course. Dream, ah - Dream told me to pick between the disks ’n Tubbo, and Tubbo made the decision for me.”

Tommy rubbed at his eyes angrily. “Didn’t even end up give me the fucking disks after all, what a prick. Piece of shit just beat me up and dragged me through the portal right after. And then, well - you were here for all the rest, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sam echoed quietly. He shifted, and winced again, as the potion finished up its work. Ghost pains still flared in all the places he’d been hit; his back was a patchwork of burning.

“Did you know he has this whole vault, by the way?” Tommy said after a moment of silence. “He's got this crazy, like, museum of all of our shit. Said it was all about attachments and - I dunno, how bad they are. Had something on everybody - though I don’t quite remember what spot he had lined up for you, sorry.”

“That’s alright. I don’t really care.”

“Really? I would care, if it were me.”

“Yeah, well. He had me build this whole prison to hold you - so it’s not like I don’t already know his weak spot.”

Tommy turned and blinked at him, opened his mouth to respond - then closed it, frowning. “His what?”

“His weak spot. You know, like your disks. Or my - well, Fran, probably. I’m honestly not shocked he’d build a museum to contain all the stuff we’ve got attachments to, considering how he had me build this thing so he could keep you in one place and, you know, come visit you. Isolate you.”

Tommy’s frown deepened, but he nodded as he thought about it. “Yeah, I guess - I guess they are kinda similar, huh? ‘Cept I’m a person - well, he did have that cell for Skeppy,” he added lowly, then snorted.

“I’m sorry, he had what?”

“Right? For BadBoyHalo. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“He - he was gonna - you’re kidding,” Sam snickered.

“I’m not!” Tommy started grinning. “That’s the best bit, I’m really not! There was just, there was a cell for everybody’s things - you know, there was Mars, and Friend, and Carl, and whatever - and then for BadBoyHalo, there was just a cell marked ‘Skeppy’.” He gestured in the shape of a sign, then doubled over as he burst out laughing. “Dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” he managed. “Me ’n Tubbo were just dying when we saw it. Well, not dying dying, but uh. Well, you know.”

His good mood faded some as he sat up once more, then sighed and tipped his head against Sam's shoulder.

“Hey - I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

“I don’t know if I’m in any position to be granting favors right now, but I’ll do my best?”

“What? No, I'm not going to make you do anything right now, just - ” He reached behind them and pulled the book off the bed. Then he passed it to Sam.

“It’s not like, completely done, but I think it'll do fine. Can you hold onto this for me?”

“Yeah.” Sam took the book, carefully tucking it away inside his bag. He shifted the berries so they wouldn’t stain it. “Why now, though? And why me - if it’s your memories of you and Tubbo, don’t you want to hold onto it?”

“I have been not so good at holding onto things I care about.” Tommy's lips pulled into a sarcastic smile. “And this is important. Y’know - L’Manberg and everything was destroyed, Tubbo ’n Wilbur are dead, and I don’t really have many friends anymore. Excepting you, I guess,” he added, nudging Sam again. “I was just thinking that I want to leave something behind. Something for people to remember me by. So, if you could - if anything happens to me - could you bury this under that bench? Just - just throw it in a chest and leave it there. I’d really like that.”

Sam nodded slowly. “You sound like you’re expecting something to happen.”

“Not really. I mean, I’m trapped here, aren’t I? In your inescapable prison. What could happen to me here? Besides Dream getting really mad and killing me, I guess.” Tommy shrugged.

“Ah - yeah, no, Dream’s not coming back.”

“What?” Tommy straightened and turned to look fully at him. “What d’you mean, he’s not coming back?”

“I meant that he’s not coming back. I won’t let him. Man’s gone straight-up crazy - no way I’m letting him step foot in this place again, much less go and talk to you.”

“What - ‘cause you’re mad that he beat you up?” Tommy snorted, but his expression was vulnerable.

Sam was exhausted.

“No, not that. That’s whatever. He just… said some things, while we were fighting, that made me reconsider my position as Warden.”

“As Warden? Sam - Sam, you’re not quitting, are you?” Tommy laughed nervously. “I’m still a prisoner here, y’know.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “No, I’m not quitting. But I’m also not going to keep you here anymore - at least, not on Dream’s behalf. I’m done working for him. Keeping you here was a mistake from the beginning, and I was an idiot not to see it."

“You’re letting me go? Well shit Sam, if I’d known beating you up was the ticket to freedom, I would’ve - “ He glanced at the new scars on Sam’s chest and arms, and swallowed what he was about to say. Instead he asked, “You’re certain? I mean, I’m sure plenty of people thought Dream was right to put me in here - and he’s going to target you if you cut me loose.”

“I - “ Sam twisted his lips as he considered what to say and got frustrated. He got to his feet, ignoring Tommy’s protests and how it stretched his still-healing wounds, and walked over to where his sword had been discarded in the corner. He unsheathed it - Tommy flinched - and handed it over, hilt first.

Tommy took it gingerly.

“Kill me,” Sam said, and it fell out of Tommy’s hand to the floor with a clatter.

“What? No! No, I’m not killing you, you - that’s fucked up, Sam, you can’t just say that to a guy."

Sam patiently picked the sword back up and offered it to him again. Tommy didn’t take it. “I am weak and vulnerable,” he said. He grabbed Tommy’s hand and folded it around the hilt; the boy held on but didn’t hold it upright, letting the tip of the sword fall to the ground. “I have been holding you here for weeks. I am not only compliant in what Dream’s done to you, but complicit. You may not be able to get to Dream, right now, but you’d be fully justified in killing me instead.”

“No! I’m not - I’m not going to.” Tommy gestured, sending the sword arcing dangerously through the air before remembering himself and hastily pointing it away.

“Are you sure? Think about it like this - you kill me, you leave, and I tell Dream that you overpowered me after the fight, so he doesn’t target me. Really, you’d be doing me a favor - saving me from a powerful enemy. What about that?”

Tommy froze. The sword no longer touched the ground - he held it at the ready. His stance and posture were good, habitual. Sam wondered who had drilled that into him.

“No,” Tommy said, weaker this time. “I wouldn’t… I don’t want to. No, I don’t want to.” He dropped the sword again, this time flinging it away from him intentionally. “I don’t want to! You can’t make me! I’m not - I’m not a murderer, Sam, I don’t understand why you’re trying to make me into one - “

Sam ignored him and went to the sword, picking it up and resheathing it. He bound the sheath back to his belt, then went to his bag and pulled out an ender chest, which he placed and dug through until he found his emergency kit, from which he pulled out a clean shirt. He made to close it - then glanced at Tommy and pulled out a spare set of armor.

Tommy was still talking. Sam walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, which shut him up - though, blessedly, the kid didn’t flinch for once.

“Thank you for proving my point,” Sam said. “Here’s some armor. Put it on quick so we can get out of here.”

“… what?”

“Thank you for proving my point,” Sam repeated. When Tommy just stared, he elaborated. “You’re a good kid, Tommy. You don’t deserve any of the shit Dream’s given you, and never have.” Then he paused, and turned to face Tommy fully. “And I really am sorry for keeping you here. If you ever - I know you’ve got to be angry, Tommy, and upset. I’m going to help you however I can, so if there’s ever anything you need, just tell me. I’ll work with you.”

Tommy blinked, and his face twitched with some indecipherable emotion. He snatched the armor from Sam’s hands. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Just, uh - just don’t ask me to kill you again.”

“If it’s what helps,” Sam said, turning to afford him some privacy.

“It’s not, so quit insisting, dickhead,” Tommy muttered as he changed. Then, louder, “So what’s the plan, big man?”

“Plan?”

“Yeah. Surely you’ve got some plan, if you’re freeing me ’n helping me 'n such. You don’t seem like the kind of guy to do things just all willy-nilly.”

“I’ve got some thoughts, yeah. Don’t know how much you’ll like them, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Thoughts like what?”

“I was thinking we might go to Technoblade and ask for help.”

"Oh, fuck no."

Chapter Text

They crested another snowy hill. Tommy had picked out the path from the Nether portal unerringly, even as he chattered away about other things.

“I never really got why Tubbo was such a big fan of bees in the first place. I mean, they're kind of shitty, with the stingers 'n all - well, if he’d liked honey or something, I might’ve understood, but he was just kind of - what’s the word that means you don’t care one way or another?”

“Ambivalent.”

“He was just kind of ambivalent towards it. Honey, that is. It was the bees that he liked, and I never understood why - I always asked him, I was like, ‘Tubbo, what’s the deal with all the bees?’ And he would always go, ‘What deal?’ And I would say - are you aright?”

It took Sam a moment to realize that question had been directed his way, and frowned in surprise.  “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“You’ve just been wincing a lot, and you’re moving slowly. Has your back still not healed? I got the right potion, didn’t I?”

“No, no, you did a great job. It just twinges from time to time - perfectly normal, no need to worry about it.”

Tommy huffed. “Of course I'm not worried. You’re just slow, is all. Here - “ He reached over and tugged the bag from Sam’s shoulder, where he’d been struggling to position it in such a way that it didn’t bang against his back with every other step. Sam let him, mainly out of surprise, and was mildly taken aback as Tommy slung it over his own. Tommy noticed this and frowned.

“I can be nice, sometimes.”

“Didn’t say a word.” Sam patted Tommy on the shoulder and kept moving. The kid was more tense than usual - which was funny, considering the large portion of their recent relationship had been spent under a significant amount of duress. But family had a way of getting to you that other things did not.

And he was right - Sam had been walking slower. The lack of a burden, and lack of associated pain, was a relief.

“It’s just past here,” Tommy said into the lull in conversation.

“Nervous?”

“What? No. I don’t give two shits about Techno.” His fidgeting belied his words.

Sam watched him. “Just how did your last interaction go, again?”

Tommy grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah - I might have ditched him in front of a crowd of enemies, to which he responded by, y’know, blowing up all of L’Manberg. Again.” 

“Right, that’s what I thought.” Sam thought about it. “Maybe let me do the talking, alright?”

Tommy shrugged dubiously.

Finally, they came over one last ridge and there, tucked into the corner of a mountain valley, was a cozy-looking log cabin, abutted by several out-buildings. One building, directly across from the log cabin, was unfinished. It looked similar to what Sam had seen of Tommy's building, before the kid's imprisonment - that is to say, crude.

Tommy frowned. “He tore down my cobblestone tower! The asshole.” Then he squinted. “There’s a new building in the back, I wonder who - well, Ranboo, I guess. I’d heard he’d moved in with them - I wonder how much negotiating he had to do with Techno for the land. Or if he had to do any at all,” he added with a bitter snort.

Sighing, Tommy hefted the pack further up his shoulder. The sun was setting. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said with all the enthusiasm of those forced to interact with estranged family members once more.

“It won’t be so bad,” Sam said as they began to climb down.

“It’s going to be awful,” Tommy tossed back.

“If he does anything, we can just shove him in a snowbank and run for it.”

“He’s Technoblade, Sam - I’d like to see you try.” Tommy rolled his eyes, but Sam noticed what might’ve been a small, suppressed smile around his lips.

Sam hummed, willing to take that little victory, as they hit the valley floor and approached the house.

“So do we just - do we knock?” He asked. Tommy took a deep breath.

“I’ve found that this method produces the quickest results,” he said casually, and before Sam could intervene, began shouting.

“TECHNOBLADE! OI, DICKHEAD! ASSHOLE! I BUSTED OUTTA PRISON! HEY, BITCH - YOU HOME?!” He lightly jumped the steps and began banging on the door.

Tommy kept yelling, so Sam could barely make out the thump of footsteps from inside - the door jerked open, and Tommy only barely managed to avoid knocking on Technoblade’s face.

“What?” The warrior growled, and Tommy reeled back. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Then a wide, fake smile broke out across Tommy’s face.

“Hey there, Techno - old friend! I just, uh, suddenly found myself with a lot of free time, so I thought I’d drop by for a visit! Phil around?” He leaned around Techno, not-so-subtly trying to slip inside, and Techno shifted to block the door.

"He’s downstairs,” the Piglin hybrid grunted. His eyes darted to Sam, who was leaning against the stair railing, and back to Tommy. “You convinced him to let you out? I figured you’d be in there forever.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you - jackass.” Tommy scowled and folded his arms. “You didn’t even come to see me!”

“Were we allowed to? It wasn’t exactly like they were passin’ around flyers, Tommy - besides, I thought we were on not so good terms right now, given how you betrayed me ’n all.”

“You blew up L’Manberg!”

“I told you I was going to! I told you the whole time you were livin’ here - showed you the vault ’n everything! ’S not my fault that you - “

“Yeah, well, I told you about the disks the whole time and you never intended to help me with that - “

“It wasn’t my problem! I thought we were both enemies of L’Manberg, then the second we actually go to fight them you just chicken out and go runnin’ back to - “

“Ah - gentlemen,” Sam interrupted, stepping forward and putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder - the kid angrily shook him off - as another voice came from inside the house.

“Techno, is everything alright up there? I heard yelling.” The voice approached, and Philza appeared behind Technoblade’s bulk. “Oh, hello Tommy. Sam.” He added as he leaned around to get a good look.

Techno pursed his lips as he looked between Phil and the pair outside, then huffed and shifted out of the way, so that they might better talk.

“I just want to remind you that this is my house,” he muttered.

Phil patted him placatingly on the shoulder. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Liar,” Techno snorted. He strode away, and Phil smiled pleasantly.

“Now, what’re the two of you doing here? Last I heard, Tommy, you were in the Prison - with Sam acting as Warden.”

“Dream - “ Tommy started, but Sam cut in.

“It’s something of a long story, and it’s getting dark. We were looking for a place to stay the night.”

“Oh - of course! My apologies, I’m being rude - as was Techno, but, you know - Techno.” He shrugged, and Tommy scoffed. Sam felt like he was missing out on a mutual joke, but forged ahead regardless.

“No need to apologize - I realize this is all rather sudden.” He smiled smoothly and guided Tommy into the house as Phil stepped out of the way - the boy shrugged him off again - and practically deflated with relief once the solid wooden doors were between his back and the outside.

“Can’t believe we made it all the way here without getting jumped,” he muttered to Tommy as Philza puttered around, putting together a space for guests. “I thought I was going to end up with an arrow in my back as we were talking.”

“Was that why you were so tense? I figured you just thought I was fucking everything up.” Tommy frowned. He was hurt, Sam realized.

“I just thought your method might take a little longer to produce results - now that we’ve secured lodging for the night, you may yell away to your heart’s content. I would prefer to ally with these people, though.”

“Techno’s a shit ally. I already told you, we don’t need him.”

Sam shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”

Tommy eyed him darkly, but Philza cut off any further debate.

“I’m afraid we don’t have much bed space - things are a little cramped around here as it is, that’s part of why Techno’s so grumpy - so one of you will have to sleep on the floor.”

“I will,” Sam and Tommy said in unison. They glanced at each other. Tommy scowled - Sam kept his expression blank.

“You’re injured,” Tommy began, and Sam sighed aggrievedly.

“I already told you, it’s fine. You’re just a kid, you should - “

“I am not - if I can fight in wars ’n be imprisoned ’n all this shit, then I can sleep on the goddamn floor - “

“Well, I literally just broke you out of prison for the explicit reason that you shouldn’t have been in there, so I’m not just going to turn around and make you sleep on the floor when I’m perfectly capable - “

“I’m sure that Ranboo has some extra space over at his place, if it’s really such a trouble,” Philza interjected mildly.

Tommy and Sam looked at each other. Sam glanced at the now darkened windows, and Tommy frowned.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam said, as Tommy nodded his agreement.

Phil snorted, smiling. He’d set a kettle of water to boil over the fire - he knelt, now, poking at the embers, then moved to lean against the dining table. “Alright then. You gonna tell me why you’re here, now, or do I have to go dig Techno up so the whole neighborhood can hear - in the ensuing shouting match?”

Tommy slumped against the couch and folded his arms. He was pouting. Sam didn’t know if he’d seen him do that before.

“Well, there’s a lot to be said,” Sam said, eyes on Tommy’s hunched figure, “but the gist of it is that Dream and I are not on good terms anymore, and we need a place to recoup.”

Phil hummed consideringly. “And Pandora wouldn’t work for that?”

“It would if we never intended to leave again. Which, sure,” Sam shrugged. “I could make that place self-sustaining easily. But, well - have you been into town recently?

“Not since… L’Manberg,” Philza said slowly. Tommy twitched.

Sam hurried to head off that minefield. “So you haven’t seen everything with the Egg?”

“Egg? What Egg?”

“Oh boy,” Sam muttered. “Alright. Um, we might want Techno for this conversation - and Ranboo, I guess? Might as well fill you all in at once.”

“I don’t know if Ranboo’s home right now - kid’s like a cat, tends to come and go as he pleases. Techno’s probably gone to check on Carl or something - “ He shifted, but Tommy preempted him by surging up off the couch.

“I’ll go get him,” he interjected before Phil could say anything further, and hurried downstairs.

They watched him go. “That won’t end well,” Phil murmured.

Sam shrugged. “Maybe they’ll surprise you.”

“Just me?”

“Can’t really be surprised if I never have any clue what to expect.”

Phil laughed. “True, true - they’re both quite the wildcards, aren’t they? Between them and Wilbur, I could never really tell what was coming next.” His expression became melancholic. Sam coughed.

“So you’ve known Tommy for while, then?”

“Oh, no, not really. More like I adopted Wilbur, and Wilbur adopted him - Tommy just attached to his side and never really seemed to leave, afterwards.” Phil shrugged. “Then they took off for this place, of course, and I figured they’d be alright so long as they had each other.”

Philza glanced down at at the floor, white-knuckled where he leaned against the table.

“And then Techno followed?”

“Yeah. Got a letter one day - took off for here. I followed eventually.” He smiled bitterly. “You know enough of the rest.”

“I’m starting to think I really don’t, now that I’ve been caught up in Tommy’s orbit. But yes, it doesn’t bear discussing at the moment.” Sam paused. “Especially because, as you say, what I really need to know should be broadcasted to ‘the whole neighborhood’ in a few moments.”

“Letting him fight it out with Techno, rather than trying to pry the truth from him yourself?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Sneaky,” Phil tipped his head, considering Sam differently. Sam couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disapproving.

Sam shrugged. “You were the one who initially suggested it, even if as a joke. Kid’s got emotional issues, and we’ve got a lot else going on. Gotta get my information somehow.”

“Sure.” Phil walked over to the kettle as it began shrieking, pulling it off the fire with the poker and setting it on a protective mat that was already set up on the table. “You have a preference for tea?”

“Not really.”

“Mm. Tommy does - black, with lots of cream and sugar. Or, well, that’s what he liked the last time I made tea for him. That was quite some time ago.” His back was to Sam now as he busied himself with the tea fixings.

Slightly raised voices started up outside, and Phil sighed. Sam stood to join him, as the table was right by the windows.

Techno was standing in the snow, at the edge of the torchlight, horse tacked up and ready at his side. Tommy was confronting him, back to the house, hands on his hips.

Phil cracked the window open, and it was suddenly much easier to hear what they were saying.

“ - can’t just take off the second I get here, you - you ass! What the hell?”

“I’m not just takin’ off, I was plannin’ on goin’ out before the two of you even got here - you can’t just show up ’n demand that everybody fit their schedules around you - “

“Well I’m sorry that my getting freed from prison is interrupting your running errands but you could’ve at least said goodbye - “

“I’m coming back! I was always planning on coming back - it’s my house! I just wanted to run to the spawner ’n grab some string - “

Sam inhaled wrong and choked. Phil thumped him on the back enthusiastically, eyes still on the scene before them - until Sam leaned forward and opened the window further.

“Might not want to do that, Techno,” Sam called.

Tommy started, as he realized that their conversation had had an audience. Techno had seen them in the window - he eyed Sam now distrustfully.

“And why’s that?”

“Well, there’s this big demonic Egg positioned right on top of the spawner now, with a cult to match - so, you know.” He shrugged. “Kind of puts a damper on things.”

Techno raised his eyebrows. Tommy looked confused.

“A demonic Egg cult,” Phil repeated quietly. Then he, too, leaned in to call out the window.

“Yeah, Techno, might want to hold off on that. Let’s, uh - let’s hear what they have to say.”

Techno looked between all of them, then sighed and shrugged.

“This is why I moved out to the middle of nowhere,” Sam heard him say to Tommy as he passed the boy. “Thought it would encourage everybody to leave me alone.”

Tommy patted him on the shoulder. “It’s your sparkling personality, big man. We just can’t stay away.”

Techno laughed. Phil smiled at the sound and started pouring cups of tea.

Sam slipped a book from his bag and moved it into the ender chest in the corner of the room - just to be safe.

-

The process of explaining the Egg was long and arduous - particularly since Sam himself didn’t know the whole story. He felt that he managed it well enough.

“So you don’t know what it is, or where it came from - only that it has mind control powers and seems to be spreadin’.” Techno reclined in his chair. He’d taken off the robe, hung it from a hook in the corner, but didn’t look any less intimidating - more like a different brand of it.

“That and it can eat people,” Tommy unexpectedly cut in. When Sam looked over, questioningly, he continued, “That vine that was embedded in your back - I thought Dream’d put it there, but that must’ve been the Egg, right?”

“Yes - very good catch, Tommy.” The boy straightened a bit at the praise and grinned. There was an odd moment as Philza and Techno’s eyes flickered between the two of them. Sam carried on, sensing that if he didn’t things might get personal again. “Now that I think about it, Ant helped me up - he might’ve slipped the vine onto me while doing that. We’ll have to be careful to stay away from them in the future.”

“So Dream’s allied with these guys? Or - well, who’re you fighting against?” Phil asked.

He too was surprisingly domestic, curled into a corner of the couch. He’d taken it only once Tommy had sat on the other side - Tommy had tensed with the placement and hadn’t really relaxed since. Phil ignored the boy’s rigid posture and suspicious glances with a practiced kind of serenity.

“It’s a three-way event, currently - the Eggpire against Dream, Dream against them, and then - the two of us. For now, I believe the Eggpire will continue their recruiting attempts, but as I have no intention of joining them, they will likely attempt to remove me from the playing field.”

“Kill you, you mean,” Techno corrected.

Sam shrugged. “Probably, yes. I don’t imagine it’s anything personal - the same ultimatum will likely be issued to everybody here. They’ve just encountered me first.”

“We should just go ahead and stab ‘em all,” Tommy said. He mimed stabbing to demonstrate his point. Techno arched an eyebrow.

“We? I hope you’re referring to the pair of you, as I’ve no interest in waging any other wars on your behalf.”

Philza cut in. “What Techno means to say is - are you here to ask for our help? And what form of help are you looking for? I agree that this Eggpire seems to be a menace, but we live quite far away from the area it’s situated in. And your squabble with Dream is your own.”

“Is it?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

There was a moment of silence in the cabin.

“What do you mean by that?” Philza asked.

Sam stood, feeling antsy, and walked over to the windows. “I spent a lot of time building Pandora. Initially, most days, Dream would join me," he said. At the border of the torchlight, outside, monsters milled in the darkness.

“And as I would build, he would talk about his plans for the future. I didn’t know quite who he wanted to throw in Prison - he was obsessed with the balance of power, so I do believe that as power fluctuated amongst us so his plans changed - but I spent a lot of time speculating. You, Technoblade - his greatest rival and competition.” Sam turned and looked at them. “You, Philza - who holds Technoblade’s ear and Wilbur Soot’s heart. He had an odd fascination with Karl, as well, so that crossed my mind as well - but then Tommy went into exile, of course, and things became… different.”

“Different how?” Philza prompted. Technoblade’s frown had deepened at the mention of Philza being imprisoned - Sam hoped that they were following.

“I think he achieved everything he was hoping to in exiling Tommy,” Sam tilted his head as he considered it. “He relaxed a lot. It wasn’t until Tommy came here and allied with Technoblade that he started to get… I don’t know, anxious again. But at that point we weren’t talking so much - I was nearly finished with the Prison and did the final stages on my own, for security’s sake.”

“What d'you mean? I thought you were building it for him.”

“Yes, but that was part of my initial deal with him - he could use the Prison as he wished, but only I would ever know how to navigate the entirety of it.” Sam shrugged. “My own little, ah, contingency measure.”

“Use the Prison how he wished, until you decided otherwise,” Techno observed dryly.

“What, think he shouldn’t’ve freed me?” Tommy challenged.

Techno glanced at him with some surprise.

“What? No, obviously not - I wasn’t happy that you were in there, Tommy. I’m just saying, seems like he didn’t hold up his part of the deal.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, well, Dream also tried to kill me. That made me realize that he’s gone full crazy, and reconsider the point in restraining - you know, a literal child.” That wasn’t the whole truth of it, but it was all they needed to know.

“Right, right,” Philza agreed even as Tommy muttered, “Still not a child.”

“But this all just brings us back to my original point,” Techno said. “Are you asking for our help or not? ‘Cause I am through with fighting other people’s wars for them - especially when they tend to turn their backs on me at the most crucial moments.”

“I’m asking for your help, but I don’t want you to fight for me,” Sam said, and everybody else in the room turned to look at him in surprise. He blinked at their stares.

“What? I don’t. I want to be able to go back to my base and get my stuff, and my dog - and then I want some time and space to plan. That’s all. I don’t need you guys to help - I don’t even need your supplies. I’d just like to use your physical presence as a deterrent.” He shrugged. “Can’t speak for Tommy - if he had his way we wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“That true?” Technoblade asked.

Tommy shrugged uncomfortably. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome. Not that I care,” he added, tense and defensive.

“Right,” Philza stretched the word out, standing as he did so. “I think we have a lot to think about, and it’s getting late. Techno, I’ll be staying with Ranboo tonight, I think. I’ll see you all in the morning?”

“Sure.” Techno stood as well, leaving the room with little further fanfare. Phil watched him go with a kind of fond exasperation.

“Well, I imagine you two can handle yourselves for the rest. Blankets are there, and pillows… yeah, you’ve got it,” he said as Tommy grabbed one of the blankets and shook it out, laying it out on the floor by the couch. “Ok. See you in the morning.”

A blast of cold air accompanied his departure, and he vanished into the night.

Sam and Tommy looked at each other.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” the kid said, eyes steely. It was depressingly similar to the expression Techno had worn while Sam was talking about imprisoning Philza.

“Alright,” he said. He was exhausted. “Alright.”

And with that they went to sleep. The cabin was warm and peaceful - and most importantly, safe.

-

A few hours later, Tommy screamed.

Sam flung himself off the couch, sword in hand, looking around furiously for an attacker - but he didn’t see anybody.

There was a clatter overhead, and Techno burst into the room, sword also in hand.

“What happened?” He demanded, but Sam could only shrug, wide-eyed and oblivious. Tommy was folded over, shaking and rubbing his eyes. At Techno’s question, he looked up.

“Just a bad dream. Thought I saw… well, I just thought I saw somebody. Don’t worry about it - sorry for waking you.”

“Who’d you see?” Techno asked, strangely intense.

Tommy hesitated. “I thought… well, I thought I saw Tubbo. But he’s, y’know. Dead.”

Techno relaxed, strangely enough, setting his sword on the table and falling into one of the dining chairs like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“There’s something I’ve been meanin' to tell you,” he said, and Sam felt a pit open in his stomach as he sensed the impending arrival of more complications.

Chapter Text

“I think Tubbo’s been hauntin’ me,” Technoblade said, and the world shifted ever-so-slightly on its axis.

“What?” Tommy replied. He laughed disbelievingly. Sam did not.

“For how long?” he asked.

“About a month - first time I saw him was the night he died. He keeps popping up and shooting at me,” Techno mimicked the movement of firing a crossbow to demonstrate.

Sam pursed his lips as he considered it. Tommy looked between the two of them.

“Sam, don’t tell me you’re actually… look, no, that’s ridiculous. Even if Tubbo did come back as a ghost - which, we still don’t know how that works, since Ghostbur’s been gone for ages and Schlatt never came back - even if he did come back as a ghost, why would he haunt you?” Tommy’s voice splintered slightly on the last word, and he cleared his throat to play it off.

“I don’t know!” Techno threw his hands up as if protesting his innocence. “That’s what we’ve been tryin’ to figure out - me ’n Ranboo. ‘Cause I was the second one to kill him is the best we could manage, but then it would stand to reason that he’s also haunting Dream ’n Sapnap, and - well, did Dream say anythin’ before?” He asked Sam, and Sam shook his head.

“He didn’t tell me much, usually, but yeah, you’d think he would’ve mentioned… if not to me, then to you,” he directed Tommy’s way.

Tommy was still staring at Technoblade. The incredulous half-smile had dropped from his face, replaced by blank shock.

“Tommy,” Sam said, and the kid flinched, broken from his reverie.

“Sorry, sorry. Yeah, um… yeah. I dunno. Maybe Dream was intending to tell me later, once he’d broken me down a bit more. Who can say,” he shrugged. Then, to Techno again, “How often do you see him? Is it, like, on command, or on a schedule…?” He trailed off as Techno shook his head.

“Unpredictable, but it’s been gettin’ more frequent. Couple’a weeks between the first attack and the second - couple’a days between ‘em now. He still hasn’t managed to actually hurt me - though the power behind the attacks has been growin’ too.” He pulled up his sleeve, and there was a bandage on his arm. “Dodged this last one, but didn’t quite manage to evade entirely. Nicked me. Wouldn’t’ve bothered with a bandage, typically, but Phil insisted.”

Tommy squinted at him. “So he’s haunting you, and attacking whenever he appears. Are you sure this is Tubbo? I dunno, vengeful spirit just doesn’t… doesn’t really seem like his style.”

Then he looked down and muttered, as if to himself, “And I haven’t seem him at all, which is just… strange.”

“That’s kinda why I didn’t say anythin’, at first,” Techno said slowly. “I don’t know… well, I dunno if it really is Tubbo. And if it is him, I don’t know how much of him it is.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, brow furrowing.

“Well, when Ghostbur came back, it was Wil, but it wasn’t Wil, right?” Tommy nodded. “So it stands to reason that, even if Tubbo came back, he would be… different.”

“Wrong,” Tommy corrected. “That he would come back wrong.”

Techno shrugged. “Maybe. We just don’t know. Not much to say, other than wait and see - that’s what we’ve been doin’.”

“Mm.” Tommy looked away, out the window, and didn’t respond further. After a beat, Sam coughed and replied in his stead.

“Yeah, let’s do that. If that’s all you know, then there’s not much we can do for now. Let’s all just… head back to bed.”

Techno nodded and stood, grabbing his sword and slinging himself back up the ladder once more. Tommy didn’t move.

Sam watched him. “It won’t do us any good to worry about it right now.”

Tommy didn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth pulled down. His gaze remained fixed out the window.

Sam sighed and clasped him on the shoulder. The boy leaned slightly into the touch. “It’ll be alright,” he said, and went back to bed.

He took the spot on the floor and fairly passed back out. He was only vaguely aware of when Tommy stirred and moved back to the couch - huffing a laugh and crouching down next to Sam when he saw what had happened.

“Sam. Sam,” Tommy shook his shoulder slightly. Sam cracked an eyelid. “You’re in the wrong spot, genius.”

“Don’t care,” Sam muttered, and rolled over.

Tommy laughed quietly again - but after a moment, stood and moved back over to the couch. Sam could tell he’d taken it by the creak of the springs and shifting of fabric.

Sam shifted to a more comfortable position on the hard, cold floor, and sighed contentedly.

-

Philza swept into the house early the next morning, the banging of the door and cold wind that followed him waking the both of them in a way that the bright morning sunlight reflecting off the snowfield hadn’t managed.

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he noticed them stir. “Figured you all would be up now. Is Techno still abed, then, as well?” He peered up the ladder.

A grumpy voice called down. “Not anymore.”

There was the thud of footsteps overhead, as Techno presumably began getting ready for the day, and Philza laughed with absolutely no remorse.

“Good morning!” He shouted up the ladder, and dodged a pillow as it came flying down, laughing even harder.

Sam smiled a bit at the sight. He was moderately envious of Techno and Phil’s friendship - always had been. He glanced at Tommy, and saw a soft, nostalgic kind of expression on the kid’s face.

It made Sam’s heart hurt.

He looked away, and stretched as the consequences of sleeping on the floor made themselves known. His back twinged, and he grunted.

“How is it?” Tommy asked, and Sam looked over at him. The kid wasn’t watching Phil and Techno’s antics anymore, but instead examining him with faint anxiety. “Your back? The cut didn’t reopen or anything, did it?”

“No, no. It’s fine, just a little stiff.” He stretched again, and locked down his expression as another pang hit him.

They’d caught Phil’s attention, Techno now sufficiently harassed. He strode across the room and leaned against the couch, peering at Sam. “This about that injury you were talking about last night? The one with the - what was it, a vine?”

“Yeah. We treated it with a potion when Sam got back to the Prison, but I don’t know if it ever fully healed. Y’know, since it was such a weird thing to begin with,” Tommy answered before Sam could, and Philza seemed surprised at how serious the boy was being.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Tommy’s serious expression was replaced by a slowly growing scowl.

“And as I’ve been saying,” Sam cut in before yet another argument could break out, “I’m fine. It’s been twingeing a bit, sure, but it’s nothing to worry over - especially with everything else going on.”

“Well what else is going on right now? No time like the present to take a look at it. Besides, if you used a potion on it - regeneration, right? - if you used a regeneration potion on it then you shouldn’t be hurting, unless it didn’t heal right. So let’s give it a look.”

Sam grimaced as Tommy shot him an accusing stare.

“You said that it was normal!”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well now I’m even more worried, so good job with that, dickhead!”

Sam sighed. “You’re right. Sorry. But,” he added as Tommy faltered in what he’d been about to say, “You asked what else is going on right now, Phil, and there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Oh?” Phil didn’t look very amused by his sloppy dodge of the medical examination.

“Yes, and I promise we can all poke and prod at my back wound once I get back - but time is of the essence, here. I gotta go get my dog.”

“Ah.”

“Amongst other things,” Sam continued, “Before Dream or the Eggpire get there. This server has a tendency to use pets as leverage or kill them in the crossfire of other conflicts - I’d prefer that that not happen to Fran as well.”

“Of course,” Phil nodded understandingly. “Want us to go with you?”

“Phil, are you volunteerin’ me for more things?” Techno’s voice projected down from above, and his face appeared in the trapdoor above the ladder, peering down at them. He slid down it a moment later.

“Of course not,” Phil said, grinning. Techno eyed him.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’d prefer to do this one alone. It really should just be a quick, in and out sort of thing,” Sam said, trying to strike the right balance of reassuring and dismissive.

Phil still seemed skeptical. “And if you get attacked? Seems like this is just the sort of opportunity your enemies’d be waiting for.”

Sam shrugged. “I got away from them once, I can do it again. And I was serious about not wanting to ally with you two for your fighting abilities.” None of them seemed convinced. He sighed. “I just think that the less moving parts to this, the better. I slip through the Nether, I get to my house, I get my dog. Not a big deal.”

“Alright,” Phil waved dismissively. “Whatever you want, I guess.”

He drifted off to go fix breakfast. Techno glanced between Sam and Tommy, then settled into a chair in the corner, pulling out his sword and a whetstone.

As the rasp of it punctuated the background, vaguely unsettling, Sam turned to Tommy. He already had an inkling of what to expect, and his suspicions were confirmed - Tommy’s face was set in determined lines, and he was already collecting their things.

“Tommy,” was all he managed to get out, before the boy launched into a tirade.

“You’re already injured, and you want to go traipsing across the Nether and poking around your base, where they’re obviously going to be expecting you to go - “

“Tommy,” Sam tried again, but Tommy raised his voice and continued.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want Phil or Techno to come along, but we’re a team - you can’t just free me from Prison and say all this stuff about helping me just to ditch me when it’s convenient - “

“Tommy!” Sam finally shouted, getting to his feet. Tommy froze and stared, wide-eyed - Phil and Techno paused in their tasks as well. They’d very obviously been listening, but now they discarded even the pretense of privacy.

Sam glanced at them, and sighed with some exasperation. “Can we talk outside, please? As in, actually talk?”

Tommy looked at Phil and Techno as well, then slowly set the bags down. “Fine,” he acquiesced, and they left the cozy warmth of the cabin for the cold snow and wind of the steps immediately outside.

“It’s a bad idea,” Sam said, raising a hand to forestall Tommy’s angry rebuttal. “The only reason I got out like I did last time was because I was alone. If there were two of us, they could just grab one and use that to manipulate the other. I wouldn’t have run if you were captured or injured. It’s safer for you to just stay here.”

“But if I were with you, he might not’ve beat you. If there were two of us, we might be able to fight him off! Or the Egg guys as well, I guess,” he added as an afterthought.

“I don’t know if anybody on this server can fight Dream off besides Technoblade,” Sam said grimly. “He’s… not like he was.”

“Take Techno, then.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I - look. I can fight my own battles, I’m not looking to recruit people to fight them for me.”

“Why not?” Tommy was clearly getting frustrated. “If the only person on the server that can take Dream is the Blade, and he’s right there, then why not get him to help?”

“Because that just complicates things! This doesn’t need to be complicated.” Sam sighed. “Look. Tommy. I’m used to doing things alone, so I’m not used to having to protect somebody else. If it’s just me, I can do it quickly - I’ll just go through the Nether like a have a million times before, grab Fran, and I’ll be back here before sundown. Then we can figure out our next steps.”

Tommy looked at him, the set of his mouth slightly bitter. “This is why you wanted to come here, wasn’t it? You wanted to leave me somewhere safe that wasn’t the Prison, while you ran around doing all the actually important stuff.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Knowing that you'd be safe here might’ve figured into it, yeah. But I disagree with how you’re portraying things - this is just an errand.”

Tommy nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I'm surprised at you, Sam. You're sneakier than I thought.”

“I was just thinking ahead - and if that’s everything, I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, hell no. You’re either leaving with me or with Techno.”

“Tommy,” Sam groaned, but the kid wasn’t done.

“And if you don’t take me or him, then I’m going to follow you after you leave. And if you try to make them keep me here, then I am going to be the most unpleasant person I can be - and I can be pretty unpleasant, I’ll have you know - so that they’ll want me the hell out of their house the second you come back, and we will be ally-less once more.” He folded his arms.

Sam considered him. “That’s quite the ultimatum - you’ve kind of backed me into a corner, here.”

“Good. So am I coming, or what?”

Sam eyed him for a moment longer before conceding. “Fine,” he said, and Tommy whooped excitedly. “Let’s grab our stuff and get moving, then. Daylight’s wasting.”

So they collected their things and departed. Phil looked at him skeptically, but shrugged as they announced their attentions. Techno didn’t seem to react - but held a hand out to stop Tommy as the kid went for the door.

“Got any gapples?” He asked, and Tommy grinned.

“Took a stack from your chests last night. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh my God,” Techno rolled his eyes and made as if to shove the kid away with his foot - but Tommy was already dancing away, laughing tauntingly. “Get outta here.”

They did. The snow crunched underfoot as they walked back to the Nether portal - Sam took care to remember the way, this time - and the cabin vanished as hills rose up behind them.

-

The heat of the Nether was a rude shock after the cold of the tundra.

“Don’t know how Phil and Techno can tramp around here in their cold weather gear. Shit sucks,” Tommy murmured, and Sam made a noise of agreement.

The convenient thing about the Nether was that, with its color scheme of red and variations thereof, there weren’t very many places where Dream could blend in with the environment. The inconvenient thing about the Nether was that it matched BadBoyHalo’s color scheme entirely - or at least, it had.

“Bad and Ant look a little different now, by the way,” he said to Tommy, looking around as they walked. He had on gold and diamond armor - Tommy was wearing his spare Netherite. He had the ingots and Bottles o’ Enchanting at his base to repair his main suit of armor - for now it languished, useless and damaged, in his ender chest.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Something - the Egg, presumably - messed with their coloring.”

“Messed with their coloring… how?”

“Well, Bad’s not black and red anymore, but black and white. And Antfrost’s eyes are red now, instead of blue.”

“Hm.” Tommy considered it, and frowned. “That’s almost comically evil.”

Sam laughed, caught by surprise. “It is, yeah. Doesn’t really help their case, I gotta admit - it’s pretty unnerving in person.”

“Yeah.” Tommy eyed him, fidgeting slightly.

“What is it?” Sam asked, when the boy didn’t say anything further.

“Are we good?” Tommy burst out. “After the fight earlier. Like, you’re not mad or anything… right?”

He was clearly anxious. Sam blinked. “No - why would I be mad?”

“Well, ‘cause you didn’t want to take me along, and I made you. I - I guess I just figured you’d be pissed at me, but you seem… normal.”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, it’s not my ideal situation - but no, I’m not mad. You were just worried for me - why would I be mad at you for that?”

“I dunno. I just… kind of strong-armed you into it. I thought you’d be annoyed.”

“Oh - well I can be annoyed, but not mad.”

“What?” The question was underscored by an uncomprehending laugh.

“I mean, did it irritate me in the moment? Yeah - I’d like to be able to do things without you arguing or manipulating me into doing what you want. But again, I understand why you wanted to come with me, and I realize it came from a good place, so I’m not mad.” Sam shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up being right, and I’ll have to eat my words. Or maybe I’ll end up being right about how I should’ve been the only one to come, and we’ll…”

He tilted his head as he considered the worst-case scenario in which he was actually in the right, and amended what he’d been about to say.

“And we’ll figure that out when we come to it.”

Tommy was staring at him - staring, but then burst out laughing as he realized what’d given Sam pause. “What, in case we both get captured? Shouldn’t we come up with a contingency plan, then - instead of just ‘oh, we’ll figure it out when we get there’? Like, what?” He laughed some more, and Sam rolled his eyes, grinning.

They’d come to the ice path. Sam clambered into the first boat, gesturing for Tommy to climb in behind him.

“What if I want to take my own boat?” Tommy asked, even as he did so.

“Then you can fight off the Piglins yourself,” Sam responded dryly. Tommy scoffed.

“What, those? They’re easy. Just pigs with some knifes on ‘em - all you gotta do is some,” he mimicked swinging his sword and made some swooshing noises as Sam piloted them away. “Of course, it’s much easier if you’ve got a shield,” he added once done. “We should probably get those.”

“Yeah, we should. Speaking of which - weren’t you the one saying we should have a contingency plan? Hit me with one.”

“Uh - alright. What was it you said about Technoblade? Right, how about this - Dream appears, and we just shove him in a snowbank and run for it.”

“No snow around my base.”

“Fuck. Um, shove him in a - a river? Do you have a river?”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“Well shit Sam, you’re kind of robbing me of all my options, here.”

“Sorry,” Sam laughed. “I thought you were the one with all the plans, though.”

“Yeah, I… I dunno.” Tommy trailed off - Sam glanced back and saw the boy staring over his shoulder, into the dark of the Nether as it swept by behind them.

“Tommy?”

“What?” Tommy startled and swung back to look at Sam. Sam tilted his head.

“You alright?”

“What? Yeah, uh, yeah. I’m alright. Just thought I saw… something.”

He seemed shaken. Sam thought about it.

“Like you thought you saw something last night?”

Tommy laughed weakly. “Maybe. I, uh - I don’t know whether to hope so, or not. It was just a kind of weird shadow, could’ve been anything - an Enderman, maybe.”

“Right,” Sam replied, and neither of them believed it.

-

The approach to his base was much as he remembered it - which, somehow, left him feeling even more tense than if it had been destroyed.

“Do you think he’s here?” Tommy asked.

Sam shrugged. “I really can’t say. Hopefully he has something better to do today than harass us - but if he knows you’re out of the prison… I don’t know. Just - just be careful. Quiet.”

“Right, of course,” Tommy said seriously. Then he grinned. “I’m one of the most quiet people I know!”

Sam shot him a dubious look, and the grin only grew - to the point where Sam couldn’t suppress his own smile. He elbowed Tommy gently.

“I look forward to the demonstration of it,” he said, then sobered as they stepped out into the open and towards the bare rock face that marked the entrance to his base.

Tommy watched him root around in his bag before finally producing a hoe. “Going to do some farming?” The joking question seemed to slip out unintentionally - Tommy clapped a hand over his mouth and widened his eyes apologetically. Sam snorted, and tilled the piece of dirt, thereby activating the system that opened his door.

As the loud, prolonged process began, Tommy shoved him. “And here you are telling me to be quiet, when you’ve got the loudest door in the world - “

“Just because the door has to be loud doesn’t mean that you have to be.“

“What, like we’ll give him two extra seconds of warning?”

“I mean, you never know.”

“Please.” Tommy rolled his eyes as the doors finished falling and they stepped inside. “You’re being - “

The lights flickered on, revealing swaths upon swaths of red vines filling the room. The light didn't manage to reach the corners anymore; they remained enshrouded in shadow. Sam had already hit the door button, out of habit. It slowly, inexorably, ground shut behind them.

Fran sat in the middle of it all.

“Holy fuck,” Tommy breathed. Sam’s heart clenched.

“We’ve got to get her out of there,” he said, surging forward. Tommy grabbed him.

“Wait wait wait wait, hold on a sec there, big man. Let’s be smart about this.”

“Smart about - Tommy, do you see how much shit’s in here? Who knows what it’s doing to her.”

“I know, I know. Let's just - ” Seemingly satisfied that the Warden wasn’t about to throw himself into the vines, Tommy edged forward and prodded a vine carefully. It twitched, but didn’t do anything else. “Ok. Alright. Do you think we could cut these away, or something?”

Sam pulled his hoe out again. “We can try,” he said dubiously. “But time’s really of the essence, here.”

He gave the hoe an experimental swing, severing the nearest vine easily - and doubled over as a screaming pierced his mind.

“Sam? Sam! Hey, what’s - what is it?”

“It’s screaming,” Sam gritted out. “Can’t you hear it?”

“Screaming? No, no, I can’t, uh, hear anything. Let’s just,” he grabbed Sam’s elbow and half-led, half-dragged him away from the vines. Sam slumped as the screaming died off somewhat.

“What the actual hell,” he muttered, still clutching his head.

“Yeah, I’m kind of wondering the same thing,” Tommy chuckled weakly. “You could hear it screaming?”

“Yeah, it…” Sam trailed off and looked up at the vines, squinting in confusion. “Are they talking to me?”

Tommy flinched, staring at him in horror, and Sam turned to him. “What? Can you hear them too?”

“No, it’s just… your eyes were looking kind of strange there, for a second. White.”

Sam blinked at him. “Are they still white?”

“No, they fixed themselves.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer.

“We have got to get out of here,” Sam muttered, and Tommy nodded fervently.

He picked up the hoe that Sam had discarded, and Sam flinched.

They looked at each other again.

“It’ll be fine,” Sam said, even as Tommy said, “So no hoe, then, if they’re going to hurt you every time.”

He dropped it with a clatter, and Sam leveraged himself up. “Tommy - don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like you said, Sam - it’ll be fine.” He flashed Sam a grin before gingerly, delicately stepping a top one of the vines. It didn’t move, and he started picking his way towards Fran - the murmuring voices in Sam’s head intensified, growing agitated.

“You really don’t hear anything?” Sam asked, raising his voice to carry as Tommy moved away.

“I mean, no more than I usually hear. The voices, you know,” Tommy said flippantly, spreading his arms out to balance.

“Uh,” Sam replied.

“What? You know, like, the voices! That tell you to do things. You get ‘em too, right?”

“Uh,” Sam said again, and Tommy waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Techno said some people get ‘em, some people don’t - and sometimes not all the time! Here we are.”

He knelt next to Fran, and the dog sniffed his hand cautiously.

“Fran,” Sam called, and she perked up as Tommy set about untying her leash.

“Yeah, there’s a good girl. Let’s get you out of here, hm? All this nasty stuff.”

“There’s a chest in the corner, too - far right side, under the rock. It’s got my important stuff in it.”

“Alright.” Tommy had to dig through a vine in order to get to the floor - Sam winced as he did so, banging his head lightly against the wall as the piercing telepathic screams began anew. Tommy hit rock, and soon enough, there was the noise of a chest popping open.

“Well shit, Sam,” he called, sounding impressed. “You’re pretty stacked, huh? When you can get to it, that is.”

“Yeah. Ran out of space in my ender chest. You know how it is.”

“I don’t, really. I keep on dying or getting my base blown up before I can get anything good - it’s very annoying, actually.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that.” Sam watched as Tommy pulled out stacks of valuables and shoved them into his bag. “That why you steal things so much?”

“Well, yeah.” Tommy shrugged. “If I’m going to get targeted and lose my shit so much, might as well steal from the people who aren’t losing their shit all the time, right? Not like they can’t just get more.”

“Have you considered hiding the stuff you do manage to collect?”

“I did that, once - with the disks, shoved ‘em in this chest that I had buried deep underground. Dream tricked me into going to check the chest, then tracked me to it. It was pretty crazy - he’s really smart, when he wants to be.” He finished his work and slung the now-considerably-heavier bag back over his shoulder, throwing the rocks back atop the chest and shifting a different vine so that it partially covered the area.

“I think I actually remember that. It was the first of the Disk Wars, right? You guys kept griefing everybody’s houses in the crossfire.”

“Yeah. Accidentally pissed a lot of people off during that,” Tommy said, caught between a grimace and a fond smile.

“Accidentally,” Sam repeated unbelievingly.

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault that Punz’s house just happened to be there! If he didn’t want to get griefed, he shouldn’t’ve - well no, I probably shouldn’t say that.” Tommy muttered as he picked his way back to Sam. Fran followed obediently at his side, still on the leash.

“Would you apologize to him now? Punz, that is.”

“Oh, well sure. Apologized to him just before that whole confrontation with Dream, for that amongst other things. Well, I tried to apologize. Couldn’t really, as he wasn’t home, and I had other things to do.”

Tommy hopped off the vines and landed lightly on the ground. He dropped the leash and Fran flung herself at Sam, licking his face and barking excitedly. He laughed and pushed her off, trying to lever himself up to a better angle to handle her onslaught.

Tommy helped him stand.

“Don’t want anything else in here, right?”

“No, that’ll be it.” Sam patted Fran’s head and looked around his base, mouth pulling down into a slight frown as he looked at the vines covering what had once been his home. “I’ll have to come and fix this place back up once all the Egg stuff is over with.”

Tommy shrugged. “All in due time. Feeling any better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, getting away from it helped. Back’s starting to hurt again, though.” He frowned. “I’ve also been wondering just how this all got here in the first place. D’you think that Bad and Ant came while I was away…? I’m pretty sure they know how to get here.”

“Who knows,” Tommy shrugged. “So long as it’s not Dream, I think we’re in the clear.”

He hit the button, and the door cranked open.

Dream lounged outside, axe propped up against his shoulder, lazily considering the sky. When he saw them, he laughed.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting on you guys for ages.”

-

Tommy stumbled back, mouth dropping open in horror, and Sam stepped forward - taking a tight grip on Fran’s collar as she growled.

“Hey there, Dream,” he replied, casually as he could manage.

“Sam. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”

“No thanks to you,” Sam said with a sarcastic little half-smile. Dream tilted his head.

“No - all thanks to Tommy, hm? Or at least, that’s what I’m assuming - considering how he’s here and not in his cell, like he ought to be. Hey, Tommy! How’s it feel to be a free man once more? Got to be pretty cool, huh?” Dream leaned to the side, peering around Sam to get a better look at the child.

Sam heard Tommy take a deep, steadying breath, before he stepped up to Sam’s side.

“It is pretty nice, yeah. Sam’s a great guy - realized that what you were doing was wrong, and helped me out. Has been helping me out,” he corrected.

Dream tilted his head. “That so? ‘Realized that what you were doing was wrong,’ - that’s interesting, I thought it was because I beat him up so bad.” He seemed to dismiss the thought with a shrug . “What do I know, I guess - I mean, after all, you’re such a nice and kind kid, I’m sure that anybody would want to help you.”

“He is,” Sam interjected, as Tommy faltered. “He is a nice kid. Which is why you should leave him alone.”

“Oh shut up, Sam,” Dream rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah - you’ve taken his side now, I get it. You’re next in line to throw your body in front of TommyInnit, to pay penance for his actions - whatever. You’ll die eventually. Then it’ll just be Tommy ’n me again - isn’t that right?” The last part was clearly directed to Tommy, who had paled.

“It’s not like that,” Tommy said.

“It isn’t? Sam, how’s your back feeling?” Dream asked innocently.

Sam shifted as Tommy looked at him, stricken, and the Hunter continued. “Remember the conversation we were having just before that all went down? You didn’t tell Tommy, did you - I only attacked when I realized you’d taken his side. Yeah,” Dream continued as Tommy looked at Sam, wide-eyed, “Years of friendship down the drain, and for what? This child who’d just as soon abandon you - who'd shove you off the cliff and steal your things, all for a laugh?”

“I’m not like that anymore,” Tommy said mutinously.

“Oh yeah? So you’ve finally grown up, then - ‘cause you finally had to face some consequences for your actions.” Dream tilted his head. “I’ll take my thanks for that any day now.”

“Shut up, Dream.”

“You can’t protect him from the truth, Sam. He’s hid behind other people his whole life, it’s time he finally - “

“I said shut up.” He was really reaching the limit of his patience. There was a stirring noise from within the base, behind them. Tommy edged away at his side.

“Sam - uh, big man. You’re eyes, they’ve gone all white again - “

There was a whispering noise inside his head. It felt like the shadows were intensifying.

“What the hell?” Dream said, and Sam couldn’t really focus enough to pay attention to it. He felt like he was vibrating - like a red film had been super-imposed over the world.

“Sam? You’re not doing this shit with the shadows, are you?” Tommy asked, and put a hand on his arm.

It penetrated the haze somewhat. Sam blinked.

“What?”

“The shadows - they’re like, moving. Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Sam said.

“You’re doing something,” Dream disagreed. Then he pulled the axe from his back. “And I am starting to think that it might be better to just kill you before you finish whatever it is. Actually kill you, this time.”

“Oh, finally,” a young, familiar voice piped. The writhing void that had been hovering at the edges of the base coalesced into the figure of a boy - pale, short, with messy dark hair and little nubs of horns sticking out of it. “I’ve found you and you’ve drawn your weapon. That took ages - and you thought you had to wait for a while just for them to come out here!” The boy’s arm disintegrated into that same black mist - when it reformed, there was an enchanted Netherite axe clasped in his hand.

Sam breathed in sharply, shocked - and then immediately looked to Tommy, who’d gone pale.

“Tubbo,” Dream said, drawing the name out. “Hey. I was wondering if you’d come back.”

“I did, I did.” Tubbo gave the axe a flip and took a step forward. Dream adjusted his stance into something more battle-ready. “I’ve been trying to find you and sort out our unfinished business, but you’re so evasive - it's really been giving me a hard time.”

Dream chuckled. “I'm sorry to hear that."

At Sam’s side, Tommy said quietly, “Tubbo?”

Tubbo paused, head turning slightly in their direction.

Dream shifted.

“I have to say, Tubbo, I’m quite surprised - I thought if you cropped back up it would be at Tommy’s side. Don’t like him anymore, or something like that? Tired of him? He did lead you to your death, after all.”

“You’re still full of shit,” Tubbo sighed. “God. And here I thought being dead would make me more patient - it really didn’t. Tommy, you should get moving.”

“What? What - no, I'm not leaving. I just found you again,” Tommy said. His voice fractured, and he pushed through it impatiently. "I thought you were gone forever."

“I know, I know. It’s a whole thing. It’ll be fine - I’ll see you later.”

Tommy stared at his friend’s flickering, phantasmal form. “That’s what you said last time, and look where we are now.”

Tubbo faced them and smiled. The expression was at odds with the glassy, lifeless quality of his eyes. “I mean, we’re seeing each other now, aren’t we? Just took me a bit.”

Tommy sniffed, fending off tears, and huffed a laugh. “That’s a stupid fucking technicality, and you know it.”

Tubbo shrugged. “Whatever. Go on - he can’t exactly kill a ghost, can he?”

“You’d be surprised,” Dream said, and with that lunged into battle.

-

Tommy seemed to be still frozen, but Tubbo was right - they needed to get out of there. Sam tugged on Tommy’s arm, and went to take a step away - but tripped and nearly fell over. Tommy caught him without seeming to realize it.

“Woah - you alright?”

“Yeah, there’s just something around my - “ Sam looked down and flinched as he realized what had snared him.

Tendrils of vines had begun creeping through the base, clearly crawling in his direction. Even as he tugged away, another one reached to grab a hold around his ankle.

Tommy reared back and chopped it off with the sword Sam’d given him.

Sam winced at the sound of its dying screams. “That’s new," he said, kicking the shrivelled tendril away from him with a grimace.

“I told you that you were doing some shit. Can you move them around, now?”

“I don’t know - I was just so mad at Dream, and then my head felt like it was buzzing.”

Another tendril crawled forward, and Sam stumbled back before it could grab him. This unfortunately drove him in the direction of the battle, which was happening just outside the entrance.

“Let’s just pearl,” Sam said, shoving an ender pearl into Tommy’s hands. “You remember where the portal is?”

“Yeah, of course. But I don’t…” Tommy sent another glance in Tubbo’s direction, as Dream’s sword cut him in half, right through the middle. His figure destabilized for a moment, dissolving into that black mist, before righting itself. Tubbo was already moving into a lunge as he recoalesced; Dream swore and dropped to the ground to avoid the blade of the now very-material axe streaking towards his neck.

“He’ll find us again, I’m sure.”

“I can’t just leave him, Sam.”

“He'll be fine - and he's buying us some time.”

“I know, but…” Another glance between Tubbo and Sam. The look on his face was heartbreaking. Sam grabbed him by the shoulder.

“I’ll help you - I’ll help you find him again. It’ll all be ok.”

“Alright.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Alright,” he said again, and drew away, readying to throw the ender pearl. “I’ll see you at the portal?” He asked, and Sam nodded.

Tommy flashed away, and Sam looked between the vines and the literal life-and-death battle happening before him. He sighed and flung his own pearl in the direction of the woods - taking care to grab Fran in a bear-hug before the pearl made contact - before vanishing as well.

Chapter Text

An interesting bit of company awaited them at the dock which would take them back to the main Nether hub.

Ant and Bad stood to one side; Technoblade was scowling, arms folded and irritation plain on his face, on the other. Neither side seemed primed to leap into a fight, which was good - or bad, depending on what they were actually saying.

From the way that Tommy tensed at Sam’s side, already wound up and angry from their confrontation with Dream, that peace might not be lasting long. Sam placed a hand lightly on Tommy’s elbow as the two other parties noticed them, and they all came to a halt.

“Sam,” Bad said, smiling. “Glad to see you’re doing well. We were worried about you.”

“That so?” He said disbelievingly.

Tommy leaned in, his body a line of tension. “Come here with Dream?”

“What?” Bad asked, scrunching up his face in confusion. “No. I mean, we followed him here, sure, but we’ve been doing that for a couple of days now - to make sure that he doesn’t try and destroy anything important while our backs our turned.” The demon’s posture relaxed as he hit his stride. “It’s really easy, actually. One of us just sticks near him while the other one trails, and when he notices the person who’s following they just run off until he gets bored and stops chasing, while the other person takes their place. It’s something we’ve done a lot in Manhunts - “

“Bad was just tellin’ me that they’ve been unsuccessful in convertin’ Dream to their religion - and that they were wantin’ to talk with you, Sam,” Techno cut in, seemingly minimal patience already exhausted. “I was askin’ if you particularly wanted to meet with ‘em.”

“And I was telling Mr. Technoblade that we’ve got some interesting topics to discuss - things that you might’ve started noticing. Your back’s doing alright, isn’t it, Sam?” Bad’s wide smile hadn’t flickered at Technoblade’s interruption, and it didn’t flicker now, even with his seemingly abrupt shift in topic.

“What do you want to know about Sam’s back?” Tommy interjected. He’d stepped forward a bit - in front of Sam, as if to protect him. “We found that weird-ass vine that you put on it - and pulled it off, and healed it. So if you were thinking about doing any weird shit, then you’d better - “

“Vine? What vine?” Bad asked, eyes widening innocently. “We don’t know anything about a vine - do we, Ant?”

Ant smiled as well and tipped his head to indicate the negative. Tommy bristled.

“Fucking idiot, you know all about that goddamn vine, don’t try and fucking bullshit me - “

“Language!” Bad exclaimed, finding it in himself to be scandalized despite the tension of the encounter.

“Alright,” Sam said, stepping forward to intervene. “Alright. I think that’s… enough of that. Bad, you have something to tell me?”

“Something I think you’ll be interested to hear,” the demon corrected with a modest shrug.

“He doesn’t want to hear any of your shit,” Tommy spat.

Sam pursed his lips. “Actually, I might.”

“What?” Tommy rounded on him, eyebrows coming together in an amalgamation of confusion, anger, and distress. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know - it just occurs to me that we don’t know much about what is happening,” he said quietly, privately. Louder, he called to Bad, “And I have your word that this will be a safe, non-violent conversation? Dream is just on our tail, and we’ve got to get moving.”

“Oh, sure,” Bad said easily, waving a hand. “And we were just on our way to make sure he doesn’t get up to any… mischief. It’ll be quick. You might want to send these two on their way, though - if you’re concerned, that is. I think it will make the conversation go a little quicker.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating,” Tommy interjected.

Sam snorted a little, despite himself. Techno rolled his eyes.

“I can take the child back to my place, if everybody’s in such a hurry. Sam, I assume you can handle yourself.”

“No - I don’t want to go back with Techno,” Tommy said, digging his heels in stubbornly. He turned to Sam. “I’m not leaving you here. You said we’d - you said you’d help me.”

“I will, I will. Trust me, Tommy - I just need to find out what they know. I’ll be right after you.”

Tommy chewed on his lip nervously. “I don’t like it.”

“I know, but really - it’ll be fine. I’ll see you later. Be good to Techno, hm? Make me proud.” Sam shifted to block the other group’s view as he spoke, pitching his voice so that only Tommy would hear.

“Don’t fucking condescend to me,” Tommy muttered, but after another anxious moment of bouncing on the tips of his toes, he relented. “Alright. Fuck.” He turned. “Techno, let’s get going, I guess.”

“If that’s all done with, sure,” Techno tossed back. He strolled over.

Techno and Tommy walked past Ant and Bad, both parties eyeing each other cautiously - until Tommy broke formation and suddenly stepped into Bad’s personal space.

“But if you’re evil now,” he said, peering up under Bad’s hood and into the demon’s unsettling white eyes, “Surely you can swear. Say, uh… say pussy.”

“Tommy,” Bad rolled his eyes, even as Techno grabbed Tommy’s elbow to drag him away.

“No, I’m serious!” Tommy continued, shaking Techno off. “Just say it the once! Come on, don’t you want to? You’re on your whole villain arc and can’t even say the p-word,” He pitched his voice to be more nasal in mocking imitation.

“Tommy,” Sam said, taking a step forward, and Tommy relented with his hands raised in a protestation of innocence.

“Alright, but - what about fuck. C’mon, just say fuck, just once - for old times sake.”

“No. Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Whatever,” Tommy rolled his eyes. “I’ll be seeing you, Sam,” he added with a meaningful look. Sam nodded as reassuringly as he could - and watched the two of them board a boat and whiz away into the haze of the Nether.

He relaxed, slightly - that was one less variable to account for. He turned back to Bad and Ant, now the subject of their undivided attention.

“Tommy… that’s an, interesting choice of loyalties that you’ve taken. Wouldn’t have figured you to have a soft spot for a kid like that.”

Sam snorted, but wasn’t particularly amused. “Dream said something similar.”

“Well, he’s not always wrong,” Bad shrugged. “Tell me - I’m curious. Why him?”

“Like I told Dream - he’s a good kid. He hasn’t deserved what’s happened to him - no kid would.”

“If any kid would, it would be Tommy,” Bad said with a kind of sardonic humor.

Sam pursed his lips. “I wonder if you would still say that if you know the entirety of it.”

“I wonder that too. Are you gonna tell me, or just be vague?”

“Tommy’s not what we’re here to talk about. The vine?” Sam prompted, and Bad shifted into what George had affectionately called his ‘shitty salesman’s persona’, once upon a time.

“Right. How did your visit to your base go, by the way? Did you notice our little present?”

“What, the metric ton of vines crawling through it? Yes, I noticed - it was a bit hard not to. Are we really going to pretend that you didn’t slip a vine onto my back?”

“It’s not pretending,” AntFrost finally chimed in. “I was just nearby - the vines do what they want.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright. Sure, whatever. That aside, I guess, yes - I noticed the vines. Now what the fuck is going on with them?”

Bad leaned forward, eyes shining. “What happened, particularly, Sam? Did they respond to you?” He brought his hands together with a beaming grin. “Tell me they responded to you,” he squealed.

“What do you mean by responded? That’s… more what I was wanting to ask you,” Sam replied slowly, brain working overtime to try and preemptively fill in the gaps in their conversation.

“Well, the Egg talks to you, right?” Bad asked, not pausing long enough for Sam to actually respond. “And as you grow accustomed to it, you can start to talk back - and it’ll listen! We left the vines for you because we thought you might have a tough time with Dream if we weren’t around to help - they did help, right?”

“No. No, we got out by, uh, other means. So they were moving because of me, then,” Sam said, slightly dazed as he started to fill in the gaps in their conversation.

“Ah! They did! I mean - yes, they were! Oh, that’s so exciting. We’ve finally got another friend for the cause, Ant!” Bad bounced with glee and shook AntFrost’s shoulder - who also smiled, leaning into the motion.

Sam shook his head.

“What? What, no, I’m not joining with you just cause you… in fact, I’d like you to fix this. Like, right now. I want the vine gone, I want it out of my body, I want it… no. Just, no.”

“Oh.” The bright grin faded slowly from Bad’s face. It was funny - the demon was always so cheery that Sam often forgot how imposing he could look when somber. Perhaps that was why he’d developed his cheerful persona in the first place - as a kind of defense mechanism, to put people at ease when around him.

He didn’t seem like he cared about putting Sam at ease anymore.

“Well that’s unfortunate,” Bad said slowly, glancing away as he chewed on the words. “It’s… unfortunate that you feel that way. I can only hope that with a little time, you come to change your mind.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“We’ll just have to see, hm? As for the vines, you really don’t have to worry about it. It’s not like an infection, or anything like that. Think of it more like, like a built in communicator. This way you can chat with the Egg whenever you want! Sounds great, right?!”

“Not particularly.”

“Well… hm. You may have to reconsider your position. If things go as we’ve been hoping, you’ll be seeing a lot more of the Egg - everywhere in the server. Besides - don’t you wanna beat Dream?”

“What does beating Dream have to do with this?” Sam asked, thrown off by the abrupt shift in topic.

“The Egg can give you whatever you want,” Bad said, hooking his thumbs through the loops of his belt and leaning towards Sam like a friendly confidant. “Particularly power. You yourself might not be enough to defeat Dream - not anymore - but with the power of the Egg, and by using the vines, they can give you an edge in the fight. You can win, Sam - you can keep Tommy safe! You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Sam said slowly. He shook his head, as if to shake off confusing thoughts. “So just to confirm - there’s no way I can stop… communicating, with these things?”

Ant frowned, glancing at Bad. “Well, there’s - “

“No,” Bad cut in smoothly, planting an elbow in Ant’s ribs. Ant shifted slightly, but shut up. “No, there isn’t. You’re welcome.”

“I’m not feeling particularly grateful,” Sam said.

“That’ll change,” Bad replied, beatific smile firmly in place. “Don’t you worry, Sam - that’ll change.”

And with that they parted ways - Ant and Bad going through the portal after him to try and catch up with Dream, and Sam taking a boat across the ice bridge he’d constructed to get back to Techno’s. Sam eyed them cautiously as they passed each other - their last encounter firmly in mind - but it seemed that they were no longer concerned with capturing him. Ant didn’t even glance his way as they left, and Bad just shot him an unnervingly friendly wink.

Tommy and Techno were waiting by the portal for him when he reached it. Tommy visibly relaxed as he saw Sam approaching - taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, then laughing abashedly in response to something that Techno had muttered.

“This is as far as he would go,” Techno drawled in answer to Sam’s raised eyebrows. “Refused to actually go through until you got here.”

“Well here I am,” Sam said with a grim kind of smile. “Intact and breathing. You two alright as well?”

“We’re fine. What’d they say to you?” Tommy butt in, leaning into Sam’s space and squinting as if he could divine the truth just by staring hard enough.

“Little bit of this, little bit of that. Let’s discuss it when we get back to Techno’s.” Sam nudged Fran through the portal first, then stepped into it with Tommy. Techno waited until they’d made it through to follow, hand on the hilt of his sword and a careful eye on the Nether behind them.

They hurried back to the house. It was mid-afternoon now; after such an eventful day Sam found himself vaguely surprised that it wasn’t nighttime already.

Philza leaned against the railing of the landing as they trooped up, arms folded. He smiled, seeming wholly unsurprised to see Techno accompanying them.

“I thought you were just running some errands?” He shot Techno’s way teasingly.

“I was. Those errands just happened to be… close by,” Techno said evasively, stepping past him and opening  the door.

Phil’s grin broadened. “Uh huh.”

“Techno, that reminds me,” Sam interrupted suddenly as something occurred to him, following Techno inside. Fran trotted in with him - giving the room a cautious sniff before walking over to the fireplace and sprawling out. Phil and Tommy trailed after. “What were Bad and Ant saying to you?”

“Oh, you ran into them?” Phil asked, walking further into the room and leaning against one of the chairs.

Techno nodded. He seemed to be considering his words. “They were offering me power in exchange for joining their side. It was pretty clear that they didn’t understand me or my goals from the conversation - they kept offerin’ me an empire, sayin’ I could dismantle it once we were done destroyin’ all the other governments in the area. Didn’t seem to understand when I told ‘em that’s not how anarchism works.” He shrugged. “Then they invited me to go ’n visit their Egg, or whatever it is, sometime. I declined, on the basis of them bein' just super weird.”

“Is that what you actually said to them?” Tommy laughed with surprise. He sat as well - near Philza, and Sam didn’t miss the content little smile that played around Phil’s lips at the development.

Sam folded his arms as Techno kept talking.

“Not in so many words, but yeah. I’m not really one for politickin’.”

“Oh, you don’t say,” Tommy snorted. His face had settled into something a little darker than the casual teasing of before, and Sam (who was getting a sense for this kind of thing) interjected before the conversation could derail.

“I don’t know how much Tommy told you on the way back, Techno, but it seems that things are even more complicated than we thought,” Sam glanced at Philza as he talked, who was considering them all seriously.

“He told me a bit,” Techno said, as Tommy chimed in, “I told him about Tubbo.”

“Tubbo? Did Tubbo… put in an appearance?” Philza asked.

“His ghostly equivalent, yes,” Sam said.

“He fought off Dream for us,” Tommy added.

“Did he? That’s certainly a step up from what he’s been doing with Techno,” Phil said, raising his eyebrows.

“Mm,” Techno grunted. He tapped his foot as he thought. “I mean, we’ve been able to seem him gettin’ more powerful ’n such, and appearin’ more often. It’s not unexpected. What’s more surprising is that he stepped in to help you - I didn’t think he was so like his old self.”

“He did say something about - uh, about waiting for the opportunity, before they started fighting,” Sam said.

“He said that he’d been waiting ages to find Dream and for Dream to draw his weapon. He said it like - as if those were the requirements for something,” Tommy corrected.

Sam nodded. “Right. Techno, you said when he shows up, he always shoots at you with a crossbow?”

Techno nodded the affirmative. Sam hummed as he thought. “That’s interesting. He was using an axe today - it looked just like Dream’s.”

“It was Dream’s,” Tommy corrected Sam again. His expression was unusually serious - and distant. “Trust me, I know what Dream’s axe looks like. It was the exact same.”

“Huh. I wonder,” Phil said, trailing off momentarily before snapping back to the conversation. “Tubbo appears and attacks two people - two people who killed him - using the weapons that they killed him with. And only when they’ve got their own weapons drawn.”

“So it’s a justice kind of thing, you think?” Techno said. “He’s avengin’ himself.”

“Maybe, maybe. You said he talked to you?”

“Yeah, he did. Seemed like Tubbo,” Tommy shrugged. “Or, that is - like Tubbo after, y’know, everything that’s happened.”

“Well maybe we’ll get to talk to him at some point and see if we can’t figure things out,” Phil said.

“Right,” Techno said.

There was a moment of silence in the cabin before Tommy turned to Sam. “And what about you, big guy? What did they say to you? Bad and Ant, that is.”

“Well,” Sam said slowly. “They said a lot of things. I guess I should start with - yeah, uh, the Egg really was talking to me, and the vines really were responding to me. Back at my base.”

“They responded to you,” Techno repeated incredulously.

“Yeah. I, uh, I got really mad at Dream, and the vines started… moving. Bad confirmed that it was because of me. Seemed really excited about it.”

“Hm.” Phil’s mouth twisted. “Did they say it was related to your back injury?”

“Basically, yeah. Said that they didn’t plant the vine - that they ‘do what they want’, whatever that means.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Of course they wouldn’t say they put the vine on you.”

“Well let’s take a look at it, hm? You said you’d let me check it out once you got back, in any case.”

“I did say that.” Sam sat back against the table uneasily as Phil went to go retrieve what was, presumably, their healing kit. Techno stood as well but went upstairs, shedding his robe and various battle accoutrement as he did so. Tommy stayed with Sam in the main room, fidgeting slightly as they waited.

Phil came back soon enough, and Sam shed his shirt obligingly at the man’s instruction.

There were twin gasps behind him and Phil and Tommy peered at his back.

“Ah, fucking hell mate,” Phil muttered, close by. Sam couldn’t see what he was doing; there was no mirror nearby. It left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“What? What is it?” Sam asked.

“Your back’s all fucking red, Sam. What the hell?” Tommy responded, standing and moving closer to, presumably, get a better look. Sam resisted the urge to shift as the two of them examined skin he couldn’t see. “It’s like, spreading from the cut.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of something like that - when you told me my eyes turned white back at the base.” Sam twitched as Phil’s gentle hands brushed against the area around the wound. They were cold; he hadn’t realized how hot his skin was in comparison. “Bad told me I can’t get rid of it. I think there was something else - Ant started to say something - but Bad cut him off.”

“And you put a regeneration potion on it, when you initially treated it?”

“He drank one,” Tommy replied. “Burnt the shit out of him. I thought it was all done with.”

“It’s got to be something about the Egg,” Sam said. “Between these vines and what it’s done to Bad and Ant - and the fact I could hear it earlier.”

“You could hear it? As in, it was talking to you?”

“It was, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was saying. I wonder if that’s because the infection’s still setting in, or because the vines aren’t so strong as this Egg is. I’ve never actually seen it.” Sam felt oddly detached - like he ought to be panicking, but that part of himself had just shut down. It made everything else much easier to mange.

Phil was less philosophical about it. “That’s fucked up.”

“I thought it wasn’t so different from Techno’s voices - or, you know, the ones I hear sometimes,” Tommy volunteered.

“Yeah, but that’s not quite - well, if you didn’t used to hear voices, and now these, these blood vines are talking to you and moving at your command, then yeah, it’s not quite the same.” Phil tapped a bottle behind him; Sam could hear the click of fingernails against glass. “I don’t know if we should try another potion on it, then.”

“It wasn’t a really good experience, last time. The potion burned the vine out of my back; if we could avoid doing that, I’d prefer it.”

“Oof. Yeah, I can imagine.” Phil hummed. “So you don’t know anything else about these vines? No weaknesses or anything?”

“Well, like I told you, they’ve pretty much taken over town. Only place I saw that they hadn’t managed to get into was Church Prime; they gave it a wide berth.”

“Maybe that’s it, then? Maybe the holy water or something could help. We should give it a run.”

“Only problem is the, you know, vines that I just mentioned, all around it.”

“We’ll figure that out. Techno,” Phil called. “Do you have any holy water?”

The sound of footsteps overhead, and Techno’s head filled the square of the ladder’s opening. “No. Why would I have something like that?”

“Just figured I’d ask. Alright. I suppose we’d better start planning an expedition to Church Prime. I suppose Ant and Bad will try and stop us?”

“If the holy water actually does anything, then I’d assume so. Otherwise they’ll probably just try and convert us - if we see them at all.” Sam accepted his shirt back from Phil and re-donned it gratefully.

“Mm, we’ll have to be careful. Wouldn’t wanna get zapped like you did.” Techno stared at Sam for a bit. Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“Wanna duel?”

“What?”

Techno’s head retreated, and he slid down the ladder a moment later. He had his sword slung over his shoulder. “I asked if you wanna duel. Bad also mentioned when we were talkin’ that you were quite the fighter, back in the day. Before you started buildin’.”

Sam shrugged. “We messed around in our free time on the early days of the server. I got a lot of combat practice then - not so much anymore.”

“Well, no time like the present. So, again - wanna duel?”

“I guess,” Sam said slowly. His wound itched. He ignored it.

Phil had folded his arms, looking moderately disapproving, but said nothing. Tommy was glancing between them.

“I want to duel too,” he said.

Sam hesitated, and Techno said flatly, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to duel with you right now. I want to duel with Sam.”

“Well what if I want to duel with Sam?”

“You can fight him after we’re done - if he agrees to it. I asked first, I get to go first.”

“I don’t think that’s fair - I didn’t realize we could just ask.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re used to just takin’ - “

“Holy fuck, are we on this again? Look, dipshit, I do ask for things - and then people don’t give them to me, but I still need them, so yeah! I just take them - “

“And you need a whole stack of golden apples when steak would’ve done just fine?”

“Yes, actually - “

“They’ll be at it for ages,” Phil murmured to Sam, a small, fond smile playing around his lips. “You know you don’t actually have to fight if you don’t want to. That cut on your back still looks pretty nasty - I imagine the potion spent itself up on mostly getting rid of the vine and didn’t actually do a great job of healing. That’s my best guess.”

“As good as any - and yeah, it’s not exactly comfortable, but… I dunno. How often am I gonna get the chance to practice against Technoblade? And he’s right - I’ve let myself get out of shape, and that’s only been to my disservice, recently. I’ll give it a shot.”

“Alright. Just keep in mind that you can back out whenever you want. We’re not going to push you into things you’re not comfortable with, here.”

“I appreciate that.” Sam smiled at Philza, and was a little struck by how the fondness in Phil’s expression didn’t flicker as he looked from the two squabbling to face Sam fully.

Sam coughed, feeling strange but not fully understanding why, and slid from the table.

“Alright, well, if we’re going to duel, we should probably go now - only going to get colder and darker as the day goes on.”

“That’s a good point - we need to get the two of you some cold weather gear,” Phil said, businesslike once more.

Tommy seemed irritated as Sam and Techno made to head outside - but he folded slightly as Sam shot him a grin, and smiled reluctantly back. He stood as well.

“Well if you’re not going to let me fight, I suppose I’ll go for a walk. Still got the adrenaline jitters from earlier.”

“Don’t go too far,” Techno said.

“I won’t,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes. “But I can handle myself.”

“I would prefer the green boogeyman didn’t nab you. Rescue missions are so tedious,” Techno replied dryly, and Tommy laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He preceded them out the door with a dismissive wave of his hand. His movement was casual, and his shoulders were straight and proud - a stark divergence from how he’d appeared in the Prison. He seemed relaxed. Sam thought fleetingly that coming here had been the right choice after all.

Chapter Text

Sam stood across from Techno, sword drawn, and started to get the feeling that this might’ve been a bad idea.

Techno was twirling his own sword leisurely, looking at ease with it in hand in a way that he never was in conversation. It seemed like a natural extension of him; his posture languid and fluid in a way that only highlighted the tension in it all other times Sam had spoken with him. He looked like he was finally in his element.

“Ready to go?” Technoblade asked, moving into a starting position - and what could Sam do but nod in agreement?

He assumed his own ready position, and so the spar began.

-

Tommy slogged through the snow and wished that Techno had chosen any other biome than the arctic to relocate to - but the man loved the cold and seemed to exist to spite Tommy’s wishes, so it wasn’t such a surprise they’d ended up in a place like this once more.

Tommy liked the mountains, though. He liked being high up, enjoyed the view they provided. He was working his way up the mountain behind Techno’s base now - right over what must be Ranboo’s home. This close he could see that it looked rather small and haphazard - shockingly similar, in fact, to his own former home back in L’Manberg.

The half-built house he and Ghostbur had started just across from Techno’s was still there. Tommy had figured it would’ve been torn down by now, as the cobblestone tower had been. He didn’t know what to make of that, so he didn’t think about it too hard.

Sam and Techno had already started fighting below. Techno was kicking Sam’s ass, because of course he was - he was the Blade, after all, it was pretty much the only thing he was good at, was kicking other people’s asses. And being annoying. He was also very good at that, too.

And mining things. Goodness, they all had the same number of hours in the day, but Techno always managed to be so prepared.

Tommy shook his head in irritation, trying once more to put Technoblade from his mind. There was too much going on today to get caught up in his thoughts about that… that loser.

He found a seat on an old, forgotten stump on the mountainside and looked down on the little valley that Techno had claimed for himself, watching the minute figures of Techno and Sam going at it. It was only mid-afternoon, but the sun already brushed against the peaks of the mountains in the distance. It would be getting dark soon; the artificial kind of dark you got in these kinds of valleys, cast by the mountains’ vast shadows.

He closed his eyes, taking in the sun after what had felt like ages of sitting in a dark obsidian cell - and when he opened them again, Tubbo was there.

Or, that is to say - the closest approximation to Tubbo he’d get, after his best friend’s death.

“Hey Tommy,” the ghost of Tubbo said with a half-smile, and Tommy could already feel the emotion he’d been struggling against all day welling up in his throat once more.

-

“So why’d you give up fightin’?” Technoblade asked, casually as anything, as if his sword hadn’t just bashed against Sam’s shield in a narrow save, the third occurrence of which without Sam able to offer any significant counterattack. Sam thrust back, but Techno was already dancing out of the way - the real trick here was the snow, which hampered Sam’s movements but Techno navigated with ease.

“Didn’t really give it up so much as took up other things,” Sam said back, struggling to breathe, speak, and fight all at the same time. “Wasn’t a lot of fighting to be done - not like before.”

“We livin’ on the same server?” Techno asked with a kind of humorous asperity. “Plenty of fightin’ to be done - everywhere, all the time.”

Sam shrugged, turning the motion into a roll of his shoulders as his back twinged with the unusual stress. “Oh, well sure, but none of that was really my battle to fight. It was all other people’s stuff - I just wanted to build.”

“And you don’t got your own battles? Nothin’ to fight for?” Techno asked, eyebrows coming together. They were circling each other, a few paces apart - Techno faked a lunge and Sam fell for it, swinging his shield to the left. Techno punished his mistake with a light tap against his right side, using only the flat of the blade.

“Hit,” Techno grunted. Sam nodded in acknowledgment and they separated, settling into their ready positions once more.

“It’s not like that,” Sam said, watching Techno warily as he waited for the other man’s opening moves. “I’ve got things to fight for.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Techno took a step forward, and Sam took a step back and to the side, that Techno might not trap him against the side of the house. They began circling once more.

“Well, like - I guess it used to be my friends, though I don’t really see them so much anymore. And Dream went crazy, and George and Sapnap felt super betrayed by that and disappeared, so I guess I don’t really know how much we’re all friends still. Uh, then it was the Prison - getting ready to defend it from anybody who wanted to break prisoners out of it. But then I ended up freeing the only prisoner inside it myself - so, Tommy now, I suppose.”

Techno lunged in for a strike, and Sam parried it, pivoting to kick out with his leg - but Techno just used his momentum to step past Sam, disengaging his blade and driving his elbow against Sam’s back lightning quick. It hit the inflamed area around Sam’s wound, and the pain was immediate and blinding - Sam went to his knees in the snow.

When he recovered enough to look up, Techno was still standing there, looking down at him. His expression was unapologetic and  unsympathetic.

“That wound’s a big liability - better get it dealt with soon.”

“We’re working on it,” Sam gritted out and stood back up, reclaiming his sword and brushing the snow off its hilt with cold, burning hands.

Techno slouched as he waited. “So you’ve made Tommy your new cause. How long’s that supposed to last? Not filling me with confidence about your commitment, here.”

“What, should I be like you, then? Cause before all else, before relationships and loyalties? Before peoples’ lives and homes? I’m looking to build things, Techno - not just destroy them.” Sam readied up, and Techno mirrored the motion. "I'll stick with Tommy long as he needs me to."

Sam didn’t wait this time but immediately struck out, looking to see what Techno would do if put on the defensive. Unfortunately the other man didn’t seem daunted - he dodged by dancing back, light on his feet as ever and expression emotionless.

“That’s a cute little thought, but destruction’s necessary for any form of growth. Can’t keep buildin’ on the decayin’ corpse of the past, or it’ll give out under you one day - gotta burn things away to start new.”

“Have you seen the crater where L’Manberg is? I thought you said you wanted to make it into a hole so big nobody would ever establish a government there again - and if that’s so, you’ve succeeded. It’s a wasteland now. It was wasteful.”

“I gave ‘em a warnin’. Besides, I'd retired - they were the ones that came ’n tried to execute me. It was only justice.”

“That seems like a false equivalence, to me.”

“If I concerned myself all day with what other people think of what I do, I’d be paralyzed into uselessness - which is why I don’t bother with it.” Techno jabbed at him and Sam nearly fell over in his attempt to dodge it. Techno was on him again, lightning quick, trying to use the lapse to end the fight – but Sam was getting a feel for his techniques and already had his shield up to block the blow. There was a thunk of metal against wood, and Sam lashed out immediately after – but Techno was already gone again. Learning familiarity with another’s fighting style was a two-way street, after all.

“I’m not useless,” Sam said.

“Oh no, far from it,” Techno snorted. “Which is the most annoyin’ bit. You’re smart, you’re capable, you’re a good fighter – but you’ve resigned yourself to a two-bit part in this drama we’ve all got playin’ out. It took weeks of Tommy bein’ a sad kicked puppy in your Prison for you to even consider goin’ against Dream – and you got wounded almost immediately after. Showed up on our doorstep hopin’ to get us to do what you couldn’t. Why d’you wanna be a supportin’ character so bad, Sam? ‘Tween Tommy, Dream, ‘n the Egg, even Phil ‘n me, y’got all these competin’ interests – what’s yours, Warden?”

-

“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo said, and between the sun and the view it could’ve been another time entirely, laughter and music hovering around them as they considered a new world of possibilities.

“Hey Tubbo,” Tommy said, clearing his throat as it stuck. He took a deep breath, and said casually as he could, “How’re things?”

“Oh, you know. Things.” Tubbo shrugged dismissively. Tommy could almost ignore the way he didn’t quite touch the ground, but instead hovered a few centimeters above it. The way that Tommy could vaguely see the snow and trees through Tubbo was another matter. “Been figuring out how to be dead. It’s pretty cool, not gonna lie - can fly around, walk through walls ’n stuff. ’S got all these rules, though, that I’ve been having to figure out.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Rules for fighting and flying and appearing and such. It makes me wonder a lot about Ghostbur - like, I know why I’m back, so it makes me wonder what his reason was.” Tubbo hummed contemplatively. “I killed Sapnap the other week - that was pretty good.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, tilting his head in confusion as Tubbo turned to him. “I mean, not that I’m disapproving, it’s just… why this whole schtick?”

“Well, I mean, it’s why I came back, after all. All the people who killed me - us - still have all their lives. I’m just evening the score. Oh, speaking of which,” Tubbo did the thing he’d done earlier, where he destabilized and reformed, and when he was back there was a crossbow in his lap and a quiver across his back. He withdrew an arrow and cranked the crossbow to load it, setting it aside once the process was done. “Got to be ready for my opportunity, you know. Techno’s wily - I’m trying to wait until he’s distracted. From the looks of it today will be a good day for that - he’s really wailing on Sam.” Tubbo leaned forward, peering down at the fight below them with interest. “I’d better talk to him later - Sam, that is. I’ve missed him. He’s a good egg.”

“And, so, what happens once you’re done with that? Killing Techno, that is, and whoever else. Dream.” Tommy asked - with a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.

Tubbo looked at him with a degree of surprise. “I die for real, of course. I’ll be done.”

Tommy worked his jaw, looking away. Tubbo still watched him, the set of his face softening a fraction.

“I know it’s kind of weird for me to be back. Believe me, it wasn’t really what I thought would happen. But at least… I mean, at least this time it won’t be so violent. We’ll get to say goodbye better.”

It was too much.

“I don’t want to have to say goodbye, Tubbo! We shouldn’t have to! I mean, you’re talking about getting even, about justice - what’s just about any of this?” Tommy exploded, leaping to his feet and leaning over Tubbo, gesturing wildly.

Tubbo stood as well, crossbow held loosely at his side.

“That’s not really any of my concern. I’m just here to do what I want. I mean, Tommy, didn’t you tell me I’m not your sidekick? Not anymore? I seem to recall that conversation.” He smiled. It was a slightly bitter expression.

“You’re not, Tubbo - you’re my friend. You’re my best friend. I can’t - I can’t let go of you again. I can’t do it. It nearly killed me, with Dream - it’s pretty damn difficult to kill yourself in the Prison, but I was trying to figure it out. I can’t just… watch you die again. I can’t do that.” Tommy had his fingers gnarled up in hair; he let his hands drop into a more pleading, supplicating position.

There was a long stretch of silence as Tubbo considered him. Then he reached out and pulled Tommy into a tight hug.

Tommy’s arms came up to hug Tubbo back almost reflexively, even as he stiffened in surprise. They weren’t particularly touchy people, him ’n Tubbo - well, they hadn’t been. Tubbo felt slightly wrong - there was a give to him where there shouldn't be, a lack of warmth, an almost misty quality. But Tubbo hummed in his ear, and that was so familiar, so right, that Tommy relaxed with it.

But then -

“You’re going to have to figure it out, Tommy,” Tubbo murmured. “‘Cause it’s what’s going to happen. At least you’ve got some advance warning this time.”

Tubbo let go, and Tommy didn’t move - frozen in shock. His best friend sighed and stretched, looking not at all affected by the course of their conversation - dropping out of the stretch as he noticed something below.

“Ooh - Ranboo! Looks like he’s finally getting home. I do wonder where he gets off to during the day. He’s a sneaky one.” The hybrid was trudging his way up the hill below them, seemingly unaware of their presence. Tubbo tapped his lip in consideration, then bent and made a snowball. “Hey, watch this. Wonder if I can hit him from here.”

Tubbo drew back and fired, lobbing the snowball at Ranboo below them. It was a near thing - the snowball brushed the side of Ranboo’s crown and almost knocked it loose, but ultimately missed, splattering safely onto the ground behind him. Ranboo stopped and looked up.

“Oh, hey Tommy,” he called, appearing mildly disgruntled but otherwise unaffected. “Didn’t see you there. Please don’t do that, alright? I’m not a huge fan of… water.” He didn’t wait for Tommy’s response - not that Tommy was about to offer one - and let himself into his house.

Tubbo laughed. “He’s ignoring me this week. Him ’n Technoblade have been trying to figure out what’s up with me; I think I must’ve ticked him off or something, because recently he’s pretending he can’t see me. Or at least, I think he’s pretending - really a very sweet guy, but I can’t pretend he doesn’t have a few screws loose.” Tubbo twirled his finger by his temple light-heartedly.

Tommy blinked, and took a deep breath, and shuddered on the release.

“I don’t - don’t know if you’re in any position to be saying that, big man,” he finally managed. Tubbo waited on him patiently, then laughed when he’d finished.

“Neither are you. Or any of us. This server does weird things to people. I’ll be glad to be outta here.” He seemed to remember himself and winced, glancing sidelong at Tommy. “Sorry, right, that was insensitive. I’ll, uh, give you time to… process.”

Tommy couldn’t say anything in reply.

-

Sam struggled to breathe. There was a shallow cut bleeding sluggishly on his leg - Techno had drawn it ‘by accident’, and they had both insisted on continuing when Phil had tried to intervene to heal it.

So instead Phil leaned against the railing outside the door and watched, arms folded disapprovingly, as Sam and Techno carried on.

“Your footwork is sloppy,” Techno said shortly, and Sam tried to adjust. The warrior seemed also short of breath, and that was at the very least a cold comfort - Sam felt like he was about to fall over.

“It’s the damn snow,” he panted. “Hard to move through.”

“If you can’t fight on snow, don’t fight on snow. If you have to fight on snow, then learn how to do it - don’t just whine.”

“Teach me, then,” Sam said acerbically. “Asshole,” he threw in for good measure.

Techno laughed in surprise, and Sam darted forward, hoping to exploit the momentary lapse. Techno parried, and Sam had to stumble away to avoid his counterattack.

“Yeah, yeah, soon enough. You done yet? Ready to give up?” Techno pushed forward, sending Sam on the defensive.

“Challenged me to a fight, and now you’re asking if I’m ready to give up - make up your mind.”

“I have. Concede.”

“Not likely. You’ve been talking too much trash for me to just give up now.”

“It’s not trash-talking,” Techno said with some frustration. “These are all valid questions. You’ve got to stand for something, Sam - it’s why you came here, after all, was because you know what Phil ’n me stand for, and so you knew you could rely on us. How’m I supposed to trust you if I don’t know what you want?”

“I told you,” Sam wheezed. “I don't know, besides what I’ve always wanted. My friends to be safe and happy. Peace to build in.”

“Which friends? You seem to have been through a few sets of ‘em.”

“Nice,” Sam said sarcastically, and Techno shrugged eloquently, turning the motion into a feint. Sam dodged, but it was close - he could feel the blade brush against the fabric of his shirt.

“Hit.”

“It was not.”

“Oh come on - any more of a hit and it would’ve actually cut you.”

“You already did that!”

“It was an accident.”

“Sure,” Sam said, rolling his eyes but obligingly stepped back into the ready position once more. Techno took a few steps back, to the other side of the trampled snowfield that constituted their arena.

“And ideally, all of my sets of friends. To answer your question,” Sam added.

Techno frowned pensively. “I guess the question there is will they let you help them. They seem to have competin’ interests.”

“If you mean Dream and Tommy, then yeah. It’s not anything I’m unaware of.”

“Bad ’n Ant, too. Y’all were friends, right? The way they talked about you seemed pretty familiar.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “Yeah. I knew them.”

“You thinkin’ they’re beyond savin’?”

“I’m thinking that… that of all the people I know and love, that Tommy’s the only one I can easily help right now. The only one who deserves helping, I guess. I’ve tried with all the others, and it didn’t work out, but Tommy… he’s had it so hard, and maybe this time I can fix everything.”

“The same thing you’ve always wanted, but the only thing you keep failin’ to have. Sounds like a familiar story.” Techno snorted, but his eyes weren’t on Sam anymore. He was looking at the hillside behind Sam, where Ranboo’s house was situated - and something there startled him so much that he paused mid-swing, grip on his sword slackening.

Sam seized the opportunity.

He lunged forward, smacking the sword from Techno’s hand with his own, and used the action’s momentum to carry them into a full-body tackle.

-

It took a moment, but Tommy did find the words.

“I don’t want to process. I shouldn’t have to.”

“And like I said, it’s not up to you. It’s not about you, Tommy. It’s about me, and what I want - for once.” Tubbo was still smiling, but it didn't look friendly. In fact, the expression was almost foreign - still superimposed over it was Tubbo as Tommy had remembered him, who'd laughed loudly and wildly, who had loved bees and sunshine and who had joined him in his most stupid adventures. Perhaps this was Tommy’s own fault, for not understanding - perhaps Tubbo was right.

Tommy flinched and tried to play it off. “And this is what you want?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m… yeah. This is want I want,” Tubbo trailed off, watching Sam and Techno once more. “Speaking of which.”

He leveled his crossbow and took aim.

Below, Technoblade was looking up at them - for only a moment before Sam took him down in a tackle. They fell into the snow, and there was a brief flurry, until it settled down once more - with Technoblade on top.

“There we go,” Tubbo said quietly. “There we are.”

The crossbow released with a crack that echoed across the valley.

-

Techno had been laughing as he managed to pin Sam - Sam hadn’t anticipated how the aggressive motion would aggravate his back and had given out midway through, groaning and falling back into the snow.

“Told you that you need to get that thing trea - " Techno cut off with a choke, slumping over and hissing in pain. He fell off of Sam, who straightened up and saw an arrow buried in Techno’s shoulder.

Sam looked behind them, to the mountainside, where the arrow must’ve come from. There was a small figure standing next to Tommy – Tubbo, Sam realized belatedly.

Tubbo waited until he saw Sam looking, then smiled and waved. With that, he vanished.

Techno pushed himself up with another pained wheeze, as the muscles around the arrow shifted with the motion. A patch of blood was starting to slowly spread from the wound, stark against his loose white shirt.

“We’ve got to get that figured out,” he hissed, and Sam huffed in agreement as Philza rushed over.

The sun brushed against the tips of the mountains, and the day turned golden-pink as sunset began.

Chapter Text

Sam and Phil left early the next morning on a reconnaissance mission. Tommy and Techno had been left behind.

Techno had been barred from holding any weapons, for fear that Tubbo would get truly lucky the next time he put in an appearance. This had left Techno disgruntled and restless; he’d been brewing potions and milling about the cabin doing odd chores with a kind of aimless energy. Techno being on edge had left Tommy restless as well; eventually the boy got sick of the terse, snappish comments they’d been firing at each other and the anxious tension in the air, and had retired outside to the house he and Ghostbur had left unfinished.

He brushed the snow from a half-hung beam and took a seat on it, pulling the memory book from his bag. Sam had given it to him before leaving. “Not that I’m expecting anything to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” he’d said, laughing awkwardly as Tommy’s already discontented expression had morphed into pure rebellion.

Sam had merely ruffled his hair and assured him once again everything would be alright, ignoring Tommy’s scowl and how the kid batted away his hands. The scouting duo had left soon after, preventing any further arguments.

It was a little strange reading through his book, now that he knew Tubbo wasn’t dead. Or, was dead, was just… still around.

Tommy sighed. You’d think he would’ve figured this all out in his initial crisis over Ghostbur.

But yeah, especially just the parts about their initial days together on the server, about the Disk Wars. Tubbo had been genuinely angry with Tommy for burning his house down, Tommy remembered that. But they’d gotten over it, right? Tubbo had forgiven him.

And then there was the exile stuck between them like a splinter, like a raggedly torn nail. Something that was manageable most of the time, but then it would catch, and there would be a momentary pain, and you’d be reminded of it all over again.

So much baggage between them these days. And then Tubbo was dead -

Well, at least he had an extra chance to make things right.

Those had been some of the darkest moments in the Prison, as he’d written his book of memories and thought about all the things they’d done together, all the things he’d meant to say but never got around to. The thought that he’d never be able to say those things, now; that he’d lost his disks and lost his best friend in the process, that he’d truly lost everything except his memories, and when he inevitably died those would be lost too -

Well, it was enough to drive anybody over the edge.

But that wasn’t the case anymore! That wasn’t the case. He had Tubbo back (in a fashion), and he had Sam now,  and maybe once this Egg business was done with they’d be able to stick it to Dream once and for all.

And, and - and things would be different, this time around.

He’d make sure of it.

He was still idly flipping through the pages of his book of memories, laughing at some, sobering at others, when the crunch of snow announced somebody else’s arrival.

It wasn’t Technoblade; he hadn’t heard the door. Tommy looked up.

Ranboo was bending under one of the beams - nearly folded in half, almost comically tall - and staring at him, wide-eyed in surprise.

“Oh, hi Tommy,” the hybrid said after a beat. “I, uh, didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked rudely, not really appreciating the interruption.

“Why not? Oh, uh - I dunno. I guess I just don’t ever see anybody in here, so it’s just a surprise to see… somebody.” Ranboo winced as his awkward explanation trailed off. He wasn’t looking at Tommy, but rather at a point just beyond his shoulder; Tommy glanced behind himself, but there was only the wall.

Tommy turned back and stared at Ranboo a while longer, until the hybrid started shifting nervously. Then Tommy shrugged and relented. “Well, I did build this place, so I don’t see why I wouldn’t come out here. Y’know, every once in a while.”

“Oh, did you? Yeah, I asked Techno about this… structure… when I moved here, but he just grunted something about terrible architectural taste - and he seemed irritated, so I didn’t want to bother him about it.” Ranboo moved further into the room, leaning against another one of the beams they’d never finished hanging.

Tommy wondered what about his personal demeanor had seemed to invite conversation, and how he might fix that. “Techno’s an idiot. And an asshole. Never listen to him, ever.”

“I, uh, don’t know about that,” Ranboo’s strained smile looked more like a wince. Tommy shifted on the beam, ready to drag the thing out into an argument, but before he could Ranboo changed the subject. “Whatcha got there?”

Tommy drummed his fingers on the cover of the book. “None of your business.”

“Oh. Ok.” Ranboo glanced away, back out into the bright sunshine. He looked like he really regretted engaging Tommy in the first place.

Tommy sighed. Whatever.

“It’s a book of… of all of my memories with Tubbo. I wrote it before I knew he’d come back as a ghost, or whatever. Was wondering what to do with it now.”

Ranboo’s head whipped back to face him, and the hybrid blinked at him owlishly. “It’s a memory book?” He said with marked, overly intense surprise.

“I… guess? It’s a book I wrote my memories down in, yeah. Sure.”

“Wow. I never thought that you of all people…” Ranboo’s brain seemed to catch up with his mouth, which clicked shut. He cringed slightly.

Tommy scowled. “I of all people what?”

“Uh, sorry, that came out wrong.” Ranboo raised his hands defensively as Tommy’s scowl deepened. “I dunno, you just always seem so confident, I guess. So sure of everything. I didn’t think you’d… well, let me just,” Ranboo pulled an ender chest from his bag, placed it, and from the ender chest produced a book of his own. He held it up to Tommy - but stayed far enough away that Tommy couldn’t grab it.

“I’ve got my own memory book - uh, kind of. That was just why I was so surprised. Haven’t really met anybody else who… likes to write things down. To help remember them. I guess.”

“Well.” Tommy’s scowl eased, and he slouched as he let go of his potential indignation. Ranboo took this as his cue to relax as well - and he did it with his whole body, shoulders slumping, breath releasing in a heavy sigh, spine curving.

Tommy resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He wasn’t that intimidating, for God’s sake.

“It’s not to help me remember,” he tacked on, finally processing what Ranboo had actually said. “It’s for everybody else. Or, like, anybody who cares, I guess. Just occurred to me when I was in prison that with Tubbo dead ’n me locked away forever, there wouldn’t be anybody to remember us. Or, well, remember us as we really are - were, I suppose. That’s what this is for.” He wiggled the book at Ranboo. “But it’s not quite accurate anymore. Tubbo’s different. I’m different. So again, I’m… wondering what to do with it.”

“Well,” Ranboo said slowly, glancing at the ceiling as he thought out his words. “I am… not great, about remembering stuff. But you could always tell me. Then there’d be at least one other person who can… who can remember you for what you are. And we can go from there.”

Tommy examined him, eyes narrowed. Ranboo shifted.

“Are we friends, Ranboo?” He asked abruptly.

Ranboo frowned and nodded. “I’d like to think we are.”

“Alright. Alright, then - yeah. Yeah. Let’s uh - let’s talk about Tubbo, some.”

Tommy was grateful for the distraction of the book; it let him look down and away from the too-understanding expression on Ranboo’s face.

-

Talking with Ranboo was better than he’d expected. The hybrid had a way of making things easy; quiet and attentive during the most difficult bits, laughing and participative during the easy ones. It helped the time pass quickly - hours fell away and Tommy forgot about his tension with Techno, about his anxiety over Sam going into town.

Eventually Ranboo straightened, though, and rolled his neck. “Ah, man. We really picked a bad spot to talk for a while, huh? Should’ve gone to to a place with - with chairs.” He laughed. It didn’t have the awkward quality of before - as Tommy had relaxed around Ranboo, so Ranboo had relaxed with Tommy.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly expect to be talking with you,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. Ranboo took it as the joke it was intended to be and grinned.

“We’ll do it somewhere better next time. My place, maybe? Though I do only have one chair… I guess I would need to fix that.”

Tommy stared at him for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “Yeah. Sounds good. Uh - looking forward to it, big man.”

“Yeah! I am too.” Ranboo’s grin morphed into a more genuine smile. The hybrid made to stand, but Tommy held up a hand to forestall him.

“Hey, uh, Ranboo - by the way, you can see Tubbo, right? He said yesterday that you were ignoring him, so I… just wanted to make sure.”

“Ghost-Tubbo? Oh yeah, I can see him just fine. He’s annoying,” Ranboo rolled his eyes, a surprisingly dry expression on somebody who had been all smiles moments before. “With the snowballs and all that. And then he likes to hang out around my place sometimes - when Techno’s practicing or something but Tubbo’s bored of trying to kill him. Likes to get into my things and pester me - so I’ve been jokingly ignoring him. Why? Did he say something?”

“Yeah. Said you were crazy.”

Ranboo snorted, which developed into full-blown laughter as the two of them stood and walked out into the sunshine. “Oh, he’s one to talk,” he finally managed. “What a… what a gremlin.”

Ranboo was able to stretch more outside - his head had brushed the ceiling of the half-built cabin, so he’d had to stoop constantly - and he did so next to Tommy.

“Oh, man,” he continued. “I gotta - well… I don’t actually remember what I gotta do today. But I should probably go do it.”

“Yeah. I’m rather at loose ends right now, myself, waiting for Phil and Sam to get back.”

“Get back from where?”

“From - uh, from… things. Things that are technically secret, I have just now realized.”

Ranboo snorted. “Yeah, ok. I get that. Phil and Techno get up to all sorts of things I’m not supposed to know about, so I guess that’s not surprising. Looks like you won’t have to wait too much longer, though - isn’t that Phil?”

Tommy turned and squinted against the harsh glare of the snow. There was a small figure on the horizon. “I mean - maybe? That’s not right, though - there should be two.”

“That definitely looks like Phil,” Ranboo said dubiously. He squinted as well. “Though something doesn’t look quite right. Is he... limping?”

They looked at each other. Tommy’s blood ran cold.

“Techno!” He called, voice picking up volume as his legs started moving. He heard the door open as he began running, heard Techno say something and Ranboo reply - but he was already peeling across the field. The snow soaked his trousers and froze his legs - he barely noticed.

As he got closer he could see it was indeed Philza, and he was indeed limping. Blood spattered his robes and matted his hair - he was clutching his arm, where a ragged bit of fabric had been ripped from his sleeve and wrapped around what must’ve been a cut. Tommy skidded to a halt at his side.

“Phil, Phil, what - “ Tommy caught Phil by the elbow as the man listed to the side.

“Oh, goodness. Sorry. Blood loss - my sense of balance is getting rather… shot.” Phil sagged into Tommy, who fortunately had the height to support him.

“What happened to you? Where’s Sam? Was it Dream? He’s not - he’s not dead, right? He’s not on his last life - he’d be back here if that was the case. Where’d he - “

“Tommy,” Phil said thickly, and Tommy shut his mouth - though his brain continued running panicked circles, hundred kilometers an hour.

The sound of heavy footsteps pounding across the snow heralded what, Tommy assumed, was Technoblade’s impending arrival. Tommy had his eyes on their feet, carefully navigating the snow and ice so that Phil wouldn’t trip.

“It was Bad and Ant,” Phil said, speaking slowly and measuredly even as his voice was strained with pain. “He’s alive - they’ve got him trapped. I tried to fight them to get him out, but I only have the one life, and they had the jump on us - I had to run.”

Techno arrived at their side, breathing heavily and quickly pulling Phil off of Tommy’s shoulder and onto his own. Techno was much stronger than Tommy, so this way the process went much more quickly - and Tommy could finally take his eyes off the ground.

He looked around. Ranboo had vanished.

Technoblade looked more worried than Tommy had ever seen the man, but unlike Tommy he didn’t say anything, instead just half-escorted, half-dragged Phil back to the house as quickly as he could. His lips were white, pressed thin as they were.

Phil laughed, then coughed as something caught in his airway. “I’m not dying, Techno. Popped a regeneration potion in the Nether. Just forgot my gapples in my ender chest, is all.”

“Of course you did. Just had to go poking around town without me, and then of course you - “ Techno cut himself off with a shake of his head. He looked pissed. Phil watched him, grin faltering slightly - then stumbled and winced as his leg banged against a rock that had been hidden under the snow. Tommy and Techno caught him at the same time.

“Seems like the blood’s goin’ out quicker than the regen pot can replace it,” Phil joked as he straightened again.

“Ranboo is getting the healing supplies set up in the house,” was all Techno said in reply.

Tommy was nearly vibrating out of his skin. When they reached the stairs, he reached the end of his patience.

“Phil. Tell me where Sam is,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the bottom of the stairs as Techno and Phil climbed up them.

The two of them paused and turned to look at him - Techno raising his eyebrows skeptically, Phil’s lips pursing in a mix of regret and resignation. Tommy could tell what he was about to say.

“Don’t fucking tell me I can’t do anything - tell me where he is. I’m going to go get him. Who goddamn knows what’s happening to him right now, if those - those fucking cultists have him.”

“Tommy, you’re on your last life. We’ll save Sam, I just need to - “

“You’re not going anywhere near that town until you’re healed up,” Techno interrupted. “I’ll go with Tommy and get Sam, once we’ve got you settled in the house.”

“Now’s not the motherfucking time to debate! Phil, just - just tell me where he is!” Tommy jumped up the steps, stopping just below Phil and grabbing the front of his robes. In his urgency he didn’t account for the other man’s injuries - Phil stumbled and nearly fell down the steps. Techno shoved Tommy away, and Tommy lost his balance, actually falling down the steps instead - landing on his ass in the snow. He blinked up at the two of them, a little stunned - and Techno, too, looked taken aback, like he hadn’t actually meant to do that.

But Sam was - was gone. There was no time for feelings, for negotiations and such at a time like this. Tommy’s hand went to the sword strapped to his back, and Techno’s expression shuttered as he drew his own. And then, Tubbo was standing in front of Tommy, faster than he’d ever appeared before, crossbow brandished like it was an adequate defense against a sword and snarling, “Don’t you fucking touch him!”

Ranboo was leaning out the door peering at all of them nervously, and Phil -

Phil collapsed, dropping to the steps in a dead faint. Neither Techno nor Ranboo could catch him in time. His head bounced off the railing as he dropped, like a puppet with its strings cut.

It quite put a halt in the proceedings.

-

They all trooped inside, a bristling mess of tension and malintention - with the exception of Ranboo, who had already sorted out an array of golden apples and healing potions, and was instead tutting to himself as he administered them in a way that was probably meant to be quiet and unobtrustive, were the cabin not filled with the dead quiet of people very ready to murder each other.

Phil came to a minute after they’d laid him out on the couch, and groaned loudly as the state of his body presumably made itself known to him. The tension went out of Techno with the noise.

“Alright. Tommy,” Techno said, as Phil’s hand flew to cover his eyes. Ranboo bent over him and started murmuring quietly. “I am more than happy to help you - but you need to get yourself under control.”

“I am under goddamn control,” Tommy snapped. “It’s you dipshits who’re playing around, while Sam has God-knows-what happening to him. Christ, it’s fucking Phil who - if I’d been there, I wouldn’t’ve left him behind, last life or fucking no. How could you,” he said, and Phil wasn’t entirely coherent, so even as he said it he realized it was a rather cheap shot; however, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Techno’s expression darkened. “Don’t be an idiot. Sam’s not dead, and Phil getting himself killed to try ’n save him would be the stupidest play imaginable. Phil did the right thing comin’ back here.”

“And what would you be saying if Sam had come back without Phil?” Tubbo said, quietly, calmly, crossbow still primed and ready in his lap where he sat in the corner. The question barely was barely audible beneath Techno and Tommy’s loud, angry voices - but it also brought the room to a halt.

Techno’s mouth went thin. “I’m not an idiot either, Tubbo - I know how he must be feelin’.”

“Do you? I think there’s a lot you don’t know about Tommy. But that’s neither here nor there - not really my concern.” He shrugged and stood. “I’ll be attempting to kill you now. I’d invite you to stand still this time, but I doubt you’ll accept this as your time to die, with everything else going on.”

He raised his crossbow to fire, and Techno and Ranboo tensed. Techno was getting ready to dodge, and Ranboo -

“Hold on,” he said, standing, hand half-extended.

“Buzz off, Ranboo,” Tubbo said, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re a pacifist and all, but this really isn’t any of your business.”

“No, no - hang on, Tubbo. Just - hey. Listen.” Tommy stood as well from where he’d been leaning against the table, standing in front of Tubbo and putting his hand on the crossbow. “Listen. I’ve got - we’ve got to save Sam. I’m going to need everybody’s help - even the dickhead’s,” he indicated Techno, who scowled. “And yours, if you’re willing. And we’ve got to - we’ve got to just move as quickly as possible. I know I was the one just arguing, but you’re right - if Sam was injured and Phil hadn’t come back, I’d be freaking out over Sam too. I just… I just let my emotions get the best of me.” Tommy took a deep breath, then smiled. “So hey - help me out?”

Tubbo was staring at him, eyebrows raised. “Did Sam teach you that? My God, that man is good.”

Tommy’s smile dropped into a scowl. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Sam didn’t teach me shit - I’ll have you know that I’ve grown as a person in the time we spent apart, and I am very mature now - “

“Right, right, sure. Whatever.” Tubbo rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll help out. If it’s for Sam, then I can shelve my, uh, ghostly quest for vengeance for a few days. Who knows - maybe I’ll get to kill Dream while I’m taking a break from trying to kill Techno.”

“A paragon of efficiency,” Techno said dryly, and Tubbo grinned at him.

“Right?”

“So we’re, uh, not killing each other? Anymore? Just to be sure,” Ranboo said cautiously. He’d stayed at Phil’s side after all, once Tommy had intervened.

“I don’t think so, no,” Tommy replied.

“Glad we’ve got that all sorted out,” Phil croaked from the couch. Then he shifted so that he was sitting up slightly - Ranboo made disapproving noises and hovered over him, as if not sure what to do - and squinted at all of them in a very bedraggled sort of glare. “You are all so fucking loud.”

Tubbo coughed to hide a surprised guffaw, then gave up and collapsed into giggles. Tommy snorted, and a reluctant smile stole across Techno’s face.

That was about when there was a knock at the door. The mood died instantly. Techno’s hand went to his sword once more, and Phil collapsed back to the couch with a groan - “God, what the hell now?”

-

Techno answered the door. Phil sat up, with Ranboo’s perhaps unnecessary help, and peered over the back of the couch. Tommy and Tubbo leaned in as well, trying to see from the back of the room as they were.

Captain Puffy and Ponk stood outside - Puffy looking anxious and fidgety, Ponk looking bored and annoyed. And also different than the last time Tommy’d seen him - his hood had been red before, right? And his eyes dark?

His eyes were blood-red now - they looked dark until they caught in the light as he rolled them. His hood wasn’t drawn, so Tommy could see that it and his hair had changed to an off-white.

The only marked change about Puffy was the lack of her usual smile. Her normally - well, puffy - mane of white hair was flattened, slightly, and there were deep bruises under her eyes. She seemed wrung out, beneath the current anxiety.

“Techno, hi, there was just an… an, uh, incident back in town and we were - “ She glanced behind him, saw Phil staring back at her, and sagged even as Techno shifted to block her view. “Phil. Oh thank God. I thought you’d… I convinced them to go back to the Egg, but when we couldn’t find you again I thought the worst had happened.”

“Let them in, Techno,” Phil called, and after a moment Techno did so, though begrudgingly. His hand didn’t leave his sword - Puffy eyed it, then raised her eyebrows in surprise as she noticed Tommy and the ghostly Tubbo in the corner. “Quite a party you’ve got going on here,” she said. “I guess I should get the gossip from this corner of the world more often.”

“A recent development,” Phil said. He shifted so that he could see them better, and Puffy obligingly walked into his line of sight. Ponk dawdled by the door - Techno repositioned so that there would be nothing obstructing his path to either of the newcomers. “I take it Bad and Ant don’t realize you’re all the way out here?”

“They think that we’re looking to confirm that you’re dead or finish you off,” Puffy agreed. She glanced at Ponk. “Ponk and I… have some differences of opinion, but we agreed that we needed to find you.”

She dug around in her bag and produced a bottle, handing it over to Ranboo, who took it gingerly. “First of all, you need to drink this - or use it on your cuts. It’s holy water - really difficult to get into Church Prime, these days, but I have a stash. Being around blood vines with open cuts is no good, they’ll get into your system - “

“Listen. We’re here about Sam,” Ponk cut her off.

Puffy shot him a tense look but nodded. “Yeah, that’s uh - that’s the second thing. You’re not going to be able to get Sam out of the Egg yourself, if that’s what you were intending to do. You saw how Bad and Ant were - it gets ten times worse if you’re fighting the Egg at the same time.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tommy said suddenly. Puffy turned to him in surprise, and he folded his arms. “You’re on their side, aren’t you? Ponk certainly is - just look at him. What, did they send you here to play mind-games or something? To finish the job with Phil? You’re not getting past Techno, you know - and you’re not going to be able to stop us from going after Sam just by talking at us.”

“No, no, I’m not - look,” Puffy raised her hands to protest her innocence. “We both care about Sam, right? We all care about Sam. Ponk and I don’t want anything bad to happen to him - right, Ponk?”

Ponk shifted, and the hostile expression he’d been wearing faltered slightly. “No. We need to get him out of the Egg. It’s not good - it’s hurting him.” He bit his lip, then tapped his foot impatiently. “Which is why we’re here.”

“Yes. Right. We’re here because - because we know that Sam was with you guys to begin with, and while Ponk and I can get Sam out of the Egg, we can’t hide him from Bad and Ant for long. So we’re going to need you guys’s help, to get him away once we free him. And to, you know, hide him, treat him, all of that. We’ll need to take him to Church Prime as soon as he’s out, so you guys are going to have to meet us there - well, I’ll be distracting Bad and Ant, so Ponk will be taking him there, but you get what I mean.”

“Sounds like you already have a plan put together,” Phil said slowly. Puffy laughed.

“Yeah, well. You live pretty far away - we had some time to think it over while walking here.”

“Which is why we should be getting back now,” Ponk interjected. “We don’t have long before they start getting suspicious.”

“Yes, right. Very true. Ok,” Puffy clapped her hands, and pointed at Phil. “Don’t forget the holy water. Very important. Don’t need you getting… Eggified. We’ll wait until you’re in position at Church Prime to start with the plan - see you there soon.”

With that, the two of them swept out. Phil blinked at their hasty departure. “Don’t ever recall agreeing, but alright.”

“Does it matter? They’re delivering Sam to us - if this isn’t all some big trap,” Tommy said.

Techno snorted. “Yeah, I was about to say - awfully convenient, them showin’ up right on Phil’s heels and sayin’ they can give us Sam back, but only if we go back into town - y’know, their home turf. Doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“No, no, I don’t think - Puffy helped me out with Bad and Ant, back there. I realize that I haven’t really explained, so let me just summarize.” Phil sat up and swung his legs to the floor, scrubbing a hand over his face and hair and grimacing as dried blood flaked off. Ranboo got him a washcloth, and Phil nodded his thanks and scrubbed off some of the mess as he began to recount what had happened.

Chapter Text

Sam had a bad feeling as they left Techno and Tommy behind, but he had a bad feeling about most everything these days.

“Just a reconnaissance mission,” he said to Phil, who nodded.

“Right.”

“And if we happen to see an opportunity to go by Church Prime and dunk me in the water and see if that does anything, then well, I think that falls under the definition of reconnaissance - wouldn’t you say? We’re, uh, reconnoitering the, uh - water.”

Phil grinned and nodded again. “Right.”

“And this way, nobody else needs to go near the scary creepy Egg thing. Particularly not, you know, Tommy - who's no good at fighting anybody - or Techno, who is too good at fighting people and absolutely should not get infected.”

Phil had just kept nodding, at this point. “I would agree.”

“Good. Good. Glad we - uh, agree then.” Sam watched his feet as he picked his way across yet another rickety bridge - this one appeared to be just a log, dragged from a nearby portal to bridge a crevasse.

Phil stepped across it with ease born of familiarity and looked at him. “Not nervous, are you?”

“Not quite. Just… I don’t know. I’ll be glad to be done with all this Egg stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s certainly been a time. I mean, even after we get you treated, it’s not like the Eggpire’ll be gone away. And Dream’s still running around.”

“Mm. Wonder if we’ll see him today.”

“Who knows. I should hope he’s still licking his wounds after that encounter with Tubbo - shame the kid's occupied with trying to kill Techno every chance he gets, as I’d like to ask about how that fight went.”

Sam laughed. “You and me both.”

The Nether hub appeared in the distance as they chatted. At the sight of it, the vague dread that had settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach gave a stir.

-

They had a few invisibility potions, but the downside to those was that they required armor be off in order to work - if not, the floating set of armor strolling through town would be a dead giveaway. They shucked their armor just outside of the portal, bundling it into their own respective bags and drinking the potions before heading through.

Phil swore at the sight of the massive vines crawling across the landscape. Sam was more prepared - though the overgrowth had grown worse in the few days since he’d last been here.

“What the hell? When you told me there was vines, I didn’t think…” Phil’s voice moved away towards a large tendril, about as thick around as a dark oak tree trunk, that ran parallel to the plaza and off towards… what looked like Ponk’s lemon trees.

Sam’s gut twisted. He hadn’t gone to visit Ponk in a while, too caught up in the Prison. And Ponk had been busy anyways - hanging out with… with Ant and Bad.

He ran a hand over his face tiredly, but dropped it as Phil swore once again. There was the sound of stumbling. Sam moved towards it.

“Phil?” He asked quietly. “Is everything alright?”

“No, it’s not fucking alright,” Phil hissed, and Sam recoiled slightly at his tone. There was a moment where the only sound between them was Phil’s harsh breathing.

That, and the whispering voices that Sam had started hearing as soon as he’d stepped out of the portal - the same that he’d heard back at his base. They put him on edge.

“It fucking spoke to me,” Phil said, and Sam blinked in surprise.

“Really? Tommy said he couldn’t hear anything. Or, well - he said that he already heard voices, or something like that. It spoke directly to you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it said - “ Phil cut off, and Sam wished so much that he could see the other man’s expression right now. When Phil spoke again, his tone was wholly different - forcibly calm and neutral. “Well, never mind what it said. It's not important. Suffice to say that it was awful, and not at all something it should’ve known.”

“Huh,” was all Sam could offer in reply.

“It was only when I touched it, though,” Phil said. “So I guess I’ll just… not do that.”

“Yeah. Don’t. Though, that does make me wonder - I don’t know if I’ve ever actually touched one of these before.” Sam’s hand raised, almost of its own volition, to hover near the surface of the vine - but he stopped himself a few inches away.

“Can’t say that I’d recommend it,” Phil said. “If it’s talking to me, who knows what it’ll do to you?”

Sam hesitated, then pulled away. “Right, right. Yeah, let’s just get going.”

They started towards Church Prime. The going was slow - they had to pick their way around the vines, or cut them out of the way where the path was wholly obstructed. This was left to Phil, since Sam couldn’t stand the noise of them as they died.

“These fuckers really are persistent, aren’t they?” Phil grunted as he cut away another straggler. The ones over the path weren’t as thick, and there were signs of them being cut or burnt back in the past. Sam wondered who else had been coming through here.

“The vines or the Eggpire?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“I mean. I’m not so sure. Bad and Ant are - were - my friends, and they… I don’t know. It’s not like they were showing any weird cultist tendencies before. All this stuff with the vines and the Egg… I just feel like it’s happening to them as well as us, not because of them. But again, I don’t know. That might just be my biases talking.”

“I mean, mate, I’m friends with Techno,” Phil said. His invisibility potion was starting to wear off - Sam could see flickers of an outline in the direction the man’s voice was coming from. “I am really not going to be the one to lecture you about problematic friends.”

Sam laughed harder than he really meant to. He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, and I was friends with Dream. I feel you. Ah, your invisibility, by the way.”

“Yeah, yours is wearing off as well.” Phil gave the hoe a twirl as he came even more into view. “Well, we haven’t seen anybody yet - and we’ve only got so many of these. I vote that we just throw our armor back on and keep the rest in case of an emergency.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said, and they ducked into an alcove as they pulled their armor back out.

Next to him, Phil muttered something, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. Sam looked over. “What is it?”

“Ah, just realized that I don't have my gapples -  must've left them behind. 'S weird, 'cause I just packed up the contents of my combat chest. There should've been a ton in there - I haven't touched it in ages, and Techno doesn't take stuff without asking first." He frowned.

“Do you think you’ll need them? We can go back,” Sam offered. Phil shrugged.

“I think that speed trumps preparedness right now. Less time we spend here is less time for those creeps to find us. I’ll manage just fine with potions, got plenty of those.”

“Right. Alright. Well, let’s just keep moving, then.”

“Sure thing.” Phil packed his things away and they set off once more.

-

However, it would turn out all that talk of stealth and speed would be for naught - which Sam realized as they reached the point where the Prime Path descended into the valley once more.

Two figures sat outside Church Prime, just at the border of where the vines faltered away. It was Bad and Ant - Ant was lounging in the sunlight, while Bad was flipping a knife, hilt over blade, over and over again. It spun high and reflected brightly against the day.

He caught and sheathed it when he noticed their approach, nudging Ant with his foot. Ant startled, then collected himself and straightened when Bad muttered something and gestured in their direction.

Sam and Phil came to a stop a healthy distance away. There was no use in subtlety now - maybe if they hadn’t been spotted they could have gone invisible and broken in from behind, but odds were that Bad and Ant would’ve just waited for them to leave, in that case.

“Sam! And Phil,” Bad called, wide grin stretching across his face as he stood. “I was wondering when you’d show.”

“How’d you know we were coming?” Sam asked. Bad laughed.

“You touched a vine as soon as you got here - how could we not?” Bad glanced away. “Though I will admit, a little birdie might’ve given us a tip-off before you got here.” He shrugged. “I’d love to tell you who, but I think that’s something I should keep to myself for now.”

“Uh… huh.” Phil said at Sam’s side. They exchanged a look.

“Not Dream, d’you think?” Phil asked quietly.

“I don’t see why he would. He and the Eggpire are at odds.”

Phil shrugged.

“In any case, we came here with an offer and a request,” Bad cut back into the conversation.

“That so?” Phil replied dryly.

“Yes, it is - though it’s more directed at Sam.” Bad pointedly looked in Sam’s direction. “We know you’re trying to, ah, cure yourself - though I disagree with that word, as I don’t think that becoming a part of the Egg is something that you ought to be ‘cured’ from! In any case,” Bad hurried on as Sam opened his mouth to ask just what he was talking about, “We know you’re here looking for a cure, and we just wanted to ask, from two old friends to another - give us a chance first? The Egg is only a couple of minutes away, and you just haven’t even given us a fair shot to pitch our Eggpire to you.”

Sam hesitated. Phil leaned towards him.

“Sam, I don’t think…” he murmured, but Bad interrupted again.

“I’d like to hear what Sam has to say! Please.” His smile was a little more toothy now. His fangs flashed in the sunlight, same as his knife had. Phil huffed but stepped away.

“Ah… I don’t know. I’m really not a fan of how you guys have gone about this.”

“Yeah, we messed up. We should’ve helped you when the vine got in your back - but we didn’t know! And then you took off so quickly. We’ve only ever wanted to help, Sam.” Bad widened his eyes innocently. Ant nodded at his side.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Sam said dryly. “But…”

“But?” Bad smiled even more widely and leaned forward expectantly.

“But for the sake of old friendships - yeah, I guess we can hear you out. Or I can - I don’t want to drag you into this, Phil.” He said more quietly to Phil at his side.

Phil snorted. “You think I’m letting you go off with these maniacs without any backup? No way. I’ll come too.”

“Alright! Then it’s settled! This way please.” Bad clapped his hands together and set off. He very much resembled a tour guide.

-

Sam had seen the building they’d constructed above the Egg before - had considered how it might be a threat to the Prison, considered the distance between the two, and ultimately judged it inconsequential.

He had not, however, been inside.

The whole edifice was an exercise in Nether brick and dark stone - ugly and oppressive by his standards, but then, it wasn’t like Pandora didn’t have the same vibe. Bad and Ant waltzed in.

“We’re expecting some more company soon,” Bad tossed over his shoulder. “More old friends - not to worry. Just some people we thought might be helpful to the pitch.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked somewhat absently as he looked around. “Like who?”

Turns out he didn’t need to ask, though.

The door popped open, and two figures walked in. Sam blinked - the abrupt daylight temporarily blinding him so he couldn’t make out who they were.

“Bad, what was so important that - “ came Captain Puffy’s voice, and she too stopped and blinked as she noticed Sam and Phil’s presence in the room. Ponk peered out from behind her.

“Sammie? What’re you doing here?” He said, eyebrows coming together. He looked different - for a moment Sam couldn’t tell if it was the darkness of the room or something else, but as his eyes readjusted to the light he could tell that, yeah, Ponk looked different. He looked different in the way that Bad and Ant now looked different.

Sam sighed. Were he alone it would’ve been a groan - just what he needed, more complications.

“Hey, Ponkie. We were just in the area and Bad and Ant, uh, invited us over. To pitch the Eggpire to us.”

“Did they?” Ponk walked past Puffy, further into the room. “And why would they do that?”

“You know we’ve been trying to expand our recruiting drive,” Bad said cheerfully. Ponk came to a stop at his side and Bad rested an elbow casually on the man’s shoulder. “Sam’s been somewhat on the fence about the whole thing, so I thought we might, y’know. Give him a tour, show him around, explain our enterprise to him.”

“You mean you told me to give you a fair shot before I go to Church Prime,” Sam said dryly. Bad shrugged.

“Tomaytoes, tomahtoes. Well Sam, whaddya think - wanna give us a try? It would be like old times, all of us on a team again! I know the two of you haven’t been able to see each other much lately.” He gave Ponk a little nudge, but Ponk remained unresponsive and stone-faced. He was staring at Sam. Sam stared back, trying to decipher his expression.

“Hold on, hold on a second,” Puffy cut in and stepped further into the room. “Let’s, uh, think this one through, maybe a little harder. Bad, have you told them all your plans for the server? And maybe, uh, what the Egg does to people?”

“I don’t need to tell Sam that, Puffy,” Bad rolled his eyes, pleasant salesman’s demeanor dropping for a moment. “He already knows. He’s been a part of the Crimson for - what is it Sam, a few days now?”

“He has?” Ponk and Puffy asked simultaneously, as Sam said, “What do you mean, part of the Crimson?”

“Oh, well, that’s just an expression. It’s, you know, when the vine attached to you - you’re just a part of the same system that we’re all in, now! Nothing bad or scary, I assure you.” Bad beamed at him. Ponk twisted, now turning an incredulous stare Bad's way.

“Were you going to tell me?” Ponk demanded. Bad slid him a glance.

“I am now.”

“Yeah, but that’s not - whatever,” Ponk blew out a sigh and ran a hand over his shaved hair. The motion jostled Bad’s arm - the demon let it drop, looking a little annoyed, before he flipped back to his customers.

Puffy interjected as well. “Yeah, Bad, I think there’s a difference between wanting to join the Eggpire and getting infected by one of the vines. If Sam wants to go cure himself, then I think we should let him - “

“Puffy! Thank you for your opinion, but it’s a little unhelpful right now! I just -  I think we are all getting a tad distracted. Sam. Would you step over here for a second? There’s something I want to show you.”

Puffy took another step forward, holding a hand out. “I wouldn’t do that, Sam,” she said, ignoring Bad as he hissed, “Puffy!” once more.

“Yeah, I’m… I don’t know, Bad, why can’t you show it to me over here?”

Bad laughed nervously. “Oh, you know. It is a uh, location-fixed object. You have to be in a specific place to see it. Which is over here. Right, Ponk?”

Ponk seemed torn. He was chewing on his lip, glancing between Sam and Bad. Bad nudged him again, a little harder this time - an elbow to the ribs. Ponk flinched slightly away, but seemed to snap back. “What?”

“I said that I think Sam should come a little closer. You know, so that he can meet the Egg. You can hear the Egg right now, right, Ponk? It’s what it wants, is to meet Sam. Help me out here.”

“Right. Um,” Ponk looked trapped. Sam’s heart twisted - his friend was usually so straightforward and stubborn. What’d happened while he’d been distracted with Pandora?

The whispering voices in the room intensified, and Ponk nodded, as if agreeing with something the rest of them couldn’t hear. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Sammie, come here for a second - just a second! You don’t have to even go too far. I’ll, uh,” Ponk stepped forward, towards the middle of the room, and Bad smiled approvingly.

“There you are! Now, Sam?” He tilted his head expectantly.

Sam was looking at Ponk - Ponk wasn’t looking at him but staring straight forward, at some indiscernible point on the nether brick walls. The anxiety around his eyes hadn’t eased.

He took a step forward.

“Sam, I really don’t think you should!” Puffy’s voice went high-pitched with stress, and she started forward as if to stop him.

Bad cut her off. “Ok, Puffy, I’m getting kinda tired of this. Ant, can you…?” Ant slipped from his side and started towards Puffy, who stepped back, hand flying to the hilt of her sword but not drawing it quite yet.

“Now Ant, let’s be reasonable,” she started, as Phil grabbed Sam’s elbow.

“Listen, mate, something hella weird is going on here. You’ve gotta be seeing that,” he murmured quietly to Sam, who twisted back towards him to listen.

“I know,” Sam muttered in response. “Believe me, I know. But… but well, it’s Ponk. I gotta make sure he’s ok. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. And besides - I mean, we’re no Dream and Technoblade, but worst comes to worst, we’re no pushovers either, right?”

Phil laughed quietly and let go. “Right.”

Ant and Puffy were arguing quietly, Bad brought his hands together in glee, and Phil was watching with dark, anxious eyes as Sam walked forward to join Ponk in the center of the room.

Ponk looked at him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sammie,” he whispered, then flinched as the murmuring voices swelled once more.

“What’re you sayin’ over there, Ponk? All good things, I hope!” Bad called - practically sung out. Ponk forced a grin and turned to him.

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t worry about me.” Ponk turned back to Sam and the grin faltered. Sam reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“Hey - what’s going on here? Are you alright? I’m sorry for not coming to visit you earlier.”

The anxiety and distraction faded away as anger sparked in Ponk's expression. “Yeah, you should be sorry. Man, Dream asks you to hang out after ditching all the rest of his friends, and you just went running. What the hell was that?”

“Hey, I didn’t think it would take so long! And after it was completed - well, there’s just been some stuff going on that was really important, and I just couldn’t get away from. Some real weird stuff. Maybe I can tell you about it after… all of this? We can meet up tomorrow or something.”

“Maybe I can’t meet up. Maybe I’m busy,” the anger became more of a pout, and a tentative smile grew on Sam’s face. He ducked his head to get a better look into Ponk’s eyes.

“Yeah? Too busy for me? What about the day after?”

“I’m busy then too. I’m actually busy all his week.” Ponk shifted slightly and turned his head. “Quit smiling at me like that. You don’t just get to waltz in here and give me that - that big, goofy grin and make everything ok again. That’s not how it works.”

“How does it work, then? I really am sorry.” Sam’s grin dropped in favor of a more sincere, earnest expression, and Ponk hesitated.

“Well, um. I - I don’t know. Maybe I can see you tomorrow after all - rearrange my schedule. But first, Sam, you really do need to get out of here. And you need to stay away from the center of the room - there’s a,” Ponk was cut off as Bad’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. Ponk flinched.

“Really Ponk, you lasted like, two seconds. I know Sam does a good puppy dog eyes, but I was hoping you’d hold out for a little longer,” Bad said reproachfully. Ponk threw up his hands.

“But look at him! Look at that face! I can’t say no to that face.”

Bad rolled his eyes and sighed. “Whatever. You served your purpose, anyways.”

The door thunked shut behind them, followed by the sound of banging on it - Sam turned and Puffy wasn’t in the room anymore, though her muffled voice was still carrying through, and Ant was throwing the latch into place, looking satisfied.

Then the sound of a click came from Bad and Ponk’s direction. Sam turned to them once more.

Phil edged closer to him.

Bad had kicked what seemed to be a button, hidden in a hollow on their side of the room. There was a grinding coming from the floor.

“It was going to be like this one way or another, Sam. Just think of this as the faster option,” he said, perfect smile still in place.

“It was going to be like what?” Sam asked. He took a step back and away, towards Phil.

“This,” Ant said from behind him, and before he could react a harsh shove propelled him forward. Sam stumbled and couldn’t catch himself as a hole opened in the ground just before him.

There was chaos and shouting - but Sam was already gone, consumed by a long black chimney leading into void below.

-

Still above, Philza Minecraft drew his sword. Still above, Ant and Bad drew theirs as well and moved in, the time for negotiations universally recognized as having passed.

Still above, Ponk’s hand also went to his sword hilt - but his eyes were on the hole that Sam had fallen into, as he listened to the dying echoes of Sam’s screams.

-

Below, Sam fell through water into a bundle of what initially felt like slick, warm plant fiber. It was pitch black; the square of dim light that he’d fallen through was still open. He could hear the sound of fighting above, but he couldn’t make out any words. He fumbled for his bag, trying to produce a torch, but struggled as it seemed to be caught up in the same material.

Then the material around him shifted, and his reached for his sword instead.

I don’t think there’s any need for that, a twisting, sibilant voice said inside his mind, and he startled and swore with surprise. His hand hit upon the edge of his sheath, but even as he made contact, it was also swallowed into the material.

“Who’re you? What’s going on?” He asked.

Haven’t you guessed? I've been speaking to you quite a bit, recently - even beyond the confines of this place.

Sam stared blankly. “What? Are you… are you the Egg? Is this vines?”

In a sense. It wasn’t quite possible for the voice to convey humor, because it wasn’t quite human - Sam couldn’t quite pinpoint the nature of it yet, overwhelmed as he was, but there was something about its composition…

But regardless, it seems like we now have some time for a meaningful conversation. I’m glad - you’ve been quite evasive these last few days. I’m glad that my disciples finally got a hold on you.

“And what did you want to talk to me about?” Sam asked cautiously. He tried to push himself up, to his feet, but the substance around him was tricky - it felt solid at first, but gave way under his hands and wrapped around them. The more he fought, the more quickly he got wrapped up.

What does anybody want to talk about? Your life. Your goals. What do you want, Sam? Did Technoblade not ask you that, the other day - did you provide him a satisfactory answer?

“I… I did talk to him about that yesterday. How do you know that? And besides - like, yeah, I did provide him a good answer. What is there to talk about?” There was a strange buzzing in his ears.

I know about everything that’s happened to you since you became a part of me. But - you lied.

Sam paused. “What?”

You only want to help everybody around you. Something twisted around his leg, and he flinched. That’s a lie.

“It’s not. It’s what I’m good for - helping people.” The buzzing intensified.

You’re tired, aren’t you? The voice asked, and it was like… it was like, it wasn't wrong. He was tired.

He was.

He was exhausted. In the weeks since Tommy had been left at Pandora's Vault and everything had gotten so complicated, it had felt like more and more of him had been scraped away - especially recently, even as he’d tried to put up a good front for Tommy’s sake.

You work so hard, it said. You’re there for everybody. You do what they ask you to. You build and you build - build up people, structures, friendships - and for what? For people to come and tear it all down again, in their petty squabbles and drama. Nobody appreciates you, Sam. You are a pawn.

The tendrils shifted around his body, and beneath the sinuous voice of the egg there were a million more, in every shade of emotion and state - pleading, wailing, screaming, laughing, crying, shouting with joy, shouting with horror. He closed his eyes against the noise.

We could build something better. I’ve already begun to. All you have to do is help me.

“The problem - the problem with building things,” Sam said, coughing as he found that his throat was unexpectedly dry. How long had he been in here? He couldn’t say - just carried on. “Is that you need a firm foundation to build them on. You’re not going to sway me. I’m going to wait until my friends come to pull me out of here, and you won’t be getting to me in the meantime.”

The tumult grew momentarily, overwhelming in its violence - then settled back into the voice from before. What a thought. Let’s test it out, shall we?

That was when the pain set in.

It as if there were vines writhing beneath Sam’s skin - whether they were real or not, he couldn't say. They certainly felt real enough. The agony was real enough.

He screamed for help. Nobody answered.

Chapter Text

Phil had finished cleaning off his face about halfway through the story. Techno had taken the now-bloody washcloth from his hands as he’d twisted it anxiously, absent-mindedly, and thrown it into the cauldron in the corner which they used for their laundry. Phil smiled at the gesture, but hadn’t paused in his story.

Tommy was grateful for it. This was difficult enough to sit through as it was.

Why? was all he wanted to ask. He was tense with the effort of not interrupting, drumming his fingers against the cover of his memory book as he leaned against the table in the corner. Tubbo sat to his side (hovered, more like, but whatever); at some point Ranboo had come and taken the other chair, hunching over initially as if he expected somebody to kick him back out of it.

Tubbo was listening quietly, stone-faced. As Tommy glanced over he noticed and stared back, then looked down pointedly at Tommy’s tapping fingers and cocked his head. Tommy shrugged and looked away.

He stilled his fingers by folding his arms - though began tapping his foot after a moment or two. He heard Tubbo exhale quietly, almost a sigh.

“I just don’t get why you’d go there,” Techno cut in. “It was obviously a trap. These guys have been nothin’ but shady from the get-go.”

“I mean, yeah, but - but they’re Sam’s friends. Or they were. I think he wanted to give them a chance to, y’know. Not be awful.”

“Stupid,” Techno huffed. “He was stupid to trust them - and shouldn’ta dragged you into his mess.”

“He’s already been fucking captured, Techno, and is probably being tortured while we all sit around here with our thumbs up our - well. Like, is it really necessary to shit on him, too? Are you even going to be helpful, or just snide?” Tommy interjected. He flexed his fingers where they had a white-knuckled grip on his sleeves, in an attempt to keep them from going for Techno’s neck.

“Phil needs to rest up while the potion works on him. We’ll all get goin’ once that’s done.” Techno watched him with a peculiar kind of look. “You’re not defendin’ his choice to go with the Egg people.”

“Sam’s been carrying my ass through all sorts of shit. I think he’s entitled to a mistake.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t believe in friends, Techno, doesn’t mean that other people are stupid for caring about people,” Tubbo chimed in.

“I don’t - I believe in friends,” Techno said, frowning in confusion and maybe a little hurt. “I’m just not dumb about it. Trustin’ people blindly can get you hurt - this whole situation bein’ case in point.”

“He didn’t trust them blindly, though,” Phil intervened. “Maybe I didn’t make that clear enough. They tricked him.”

“Yeah, but if he’d never gone in there in the first place - “

“It was still their fault for tricking him!” Tommy said hotly.

“Alright yeah, morally, but the fact stands that he’d still be here.” Techno sat back and folded his arms as well. “Y’all can lecture me all you want about morals ’n such, but you’re not convincin’ me that trustin’ people is a good idea.”

“Which is a good reason why people shouldn’t trust you, either,” Tubbo said dryly. Techno shifted.

“I guess it depends on your definition of trust. I’ve always been clear about what I believe - if you keep on my side of things then I’ll be there for you. Betray my principles, then you’ll be on the opposing side.” Techno shrugged. “It's a simple and easy way of doin' things. A safe way of doin' things.”

“And when you blew me up with rockets at point blank range? Was that because I’d betrayed your principles, Technoblade?” Tubbo asked. His dry humor had morphed into real anger - he leaned forward, hands balling into where they rested against his knees.

Techno raised his eyebrows, clearly caught off guard. “Well, no. That was ‘cause of Schlatt. Tubbo, I - we talked about this after it happened. I thought you understood why I had to do what I did.”

Tubbo exploded from his chair, crossbow clutched in his fist. “You didn’t have to do shit! You killed everybody else immediately after - so clearly they weren’t a threat! Yeah, maybe I did say it was alright, at the time. Maybe I did say that I forgave you, ‘cause I knew that otherwise - otherwise the whole revolution would fall apart, and I blamed Schlatt more than I blamed you. And maybe alive Tubbo cared about all of that. Cared about people getting along, even if it meant swallowing all the - all the bullshit you guys spout constantly.”

Techno was wide-eyed with surprise - they all kind of were. Tubbo looked around at them just sitting there and then shut his own eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, the set of his expression was steely.

“I don’t care about it anymore. Last time you blew up L’Manberg, Techno, you said to Tommy that you weren’t a weapon anymore, but a person. Well guess what - if a sword kills somebody, you don’t blame the sword for their death, but the person that wields it. I blame you. You’re not a weapon but a person, and you decided to kill me, and I blame you for that. I’ll do so until I kill you myself.”

More silence. Tubbo sighed again and shook his head. “I gotta get out of here.”

He strode for the door and thrust it open, mindless of how it banged against the frame and not bothering to close it after he’d left.

The room was quiet for a beat.

“I’m - “ Tommy and Ranboo said in unison, before pausing and looking at each other in surprise.

“I’m gonna go after him,” Tommy finished uneasily. “Ranboo, can you, ah…”

“Sure, sure.” Ranboo nodded his head obligingly. “Don’t worry about it. Take all the time you need.”

Technoblade and Phil said nothing all, caught up in some kind of silent communication. Tommy ignored them; wasn’t like they’d been helpful at any point leading up to this.

“Right.” Tommy followed Tubbo out the door. His memory book was still clutched in his hands.

-

It was bitterly cold, and Tommy had forgot his coat in his haste; the air burned in his lungs, and he shoved his hands into his armpits in a vain attempt to shield them. Tubbo left no tracks in the snow, but he hadn’t gotten so far that it was impossible to see his silhouette. The ghost had walked around the house, towards the bee farm - and now slightly past it.

Tommy called his name and trudged after. Tubbo glanced back and paused.

“I’d say sorry, but I’m not apologizing for like… having feelings anymore,” he said, an awkward kind of vulnerability in his eyes. He seemed ready to get angry again, if Tommy misstepped.

Tommy tried not to misstep.

“Wasn’t gonna ask you to, big man,” he replied. “Just wanted to see if you were… ok.”

Tubbo eyed him, went to respond, paused, and shut his mouth again. Eventually he said, “I appreciate that.”

A long silence stretched between them. When Tommy said nothing further, Tubbo continued. “I just… I just get so angry, these days. I don’t know if it’s the whole dying thing, or just, well, finally having some time to process things. When I was alive, everything was always so rushed. We went straight from L’Manberg to Schlatt, from Schlatt to everything being blown up and me being put in charge of all of it, then it all got blown up again… I had Snowchester, obviously, for a little bit, but being a ghost has just, a different quality to it. That’s why I never bothered talking to Techno, just tried to kill him. Was cause I got so angry whenever I saw him, out here, leading this just, peaceful life. Like he never did anything wrong. But also because I’m just sick and tired of people not listening to me, I guess. Like, in there? When he mentioned the whole festival thing, and how I forgave him? It wasn’t even really me that he hashed things out with. It was you. It was always you, it was always about you. You fought him in the pit, because you were mad that I died, not me.”

“Was that… a bad thing?” Tommy asked uncertainly. Tommy blew out a sigh.

“I mean, no, I’m glad that you wanted to stick up for me. But it was just - never about how I was feeling, or what I wanted. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of people.” He looked away, at the snow, and fidgeted with his sleeve. “Except Ranboo. He’s alright.”

“Alright. Well I’m… sorry… if I made you feel like I wasn’t paying attention to how you were feeling. I get very… I’m very emotional. And headstrong. You know.”

Tubbo smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

He tapped his foot and looked back at the house. The crossbow had been slung over his shoulder, but he unhooked it now. “Look, I kind of want to, just, take a little break. Just a little one. I’m tired - materializing takes it out of me, though I’ve been getting better at it. I’m gonna try and ‘kill’ Techno right now and dematerialize for a while. Have him draw his sword or something if you need me.”

“Yeah, alright, um. Just, wait a second - hey,” Tommy hurried forward as Tubbo drew an arrow from his quiver. “Hey. I, uh, don’t know if you can carry real things around, but I wanted you to have this? It’s a book of all the things we did together - I wrote it in the Prison. I was gonna bury it, before I realized that you’d come back as a ghost, but now… well, I dunno, I guess I just think with you is the best place for it to be. For the time being. I know you don’t intend to stick around forever.”

Tubbo blinked at him and nodded, after a second, and Tommy thrust the book towards him. Tubbo took it and ran thumb over the cover.

“Alright. Sure. I’ll, uh, be sure to give it a look. Thank you,” Tubbo looked up at Tommy, and the look in his eyes was somehow both soft and piercing. It was a very Tubbo kind of look. “That’s more, well… thoughtful than I expected you to be.”

Tommy huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s like I said inside - I’m a little different now, too.”

Tubbo nodded, and Tommy squeezed his arm and stepped away. The other boy raised his crossbow, and didn’t even really seem to aim - just fired in the direction of the house. There was the noise of shattering glass and shouting as Tubbo disappeared in a whirl of black smoke - when Tommy look back a window was broken. Ranboo's face was peering out of it.

“Tubbo’s gone?” He called.

Tommy shrugged. “For now.”

Ranboo nodded. There was an awkward moment.

“Uh… comin’ back inside?”

Tommy shrugged again. “Yeah, in a bit. We’re not ready to go yet, right?”

His hands were burning now, as well, but he’d put them through worse. There were potions if he ended up with any damage. And besides, maybe Tubbo was right - he needed a break. He needed to get his head sorted before they went after Sam, so he wouldn’t make any dumb mistakes. This was too important to not be on his A game for.

“No, Techno and Phil are putting some stuff together. Phil’s bleeding has stopped, at least, so that’s… good.”

“Yep.”

“Alright, well I’m just gonna… go…”

Tommy laughed a little, to himself, as the hybrid ducked out of the window.

It was still daytime, which felt almost wrong. So much had happened that he felt it ought’ve been night by now. The weather had turned grey - cold and blustery, with intermittent gusts of wind - so he couldn’t even judge the angle of the sun to see what time it was.

Tommy walked a little further into the tundra. He didn’t like the feeling of the house looming at his back.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known that Tubbo probably had some grievances from the times before. He’d thought some of the same stuff himself, after all - that he’d fucked some things up, where Tubbo was concerned. And Tubbo had screwed up with regards to him, in turn.

After all, Tubbo was yelling at Techno about accountability, but was the one who, at the end of the day, had issued the orders to have Tommy exiled from L’Manberg. Dream had put him in the position of choosing, and Wilbur had put him in the position of being President, and Tommy had been the one to burn George’s house down, but - but Tubbo had been the one to make the choice.

Wasn’t that the same? Tommy’s hands still shook when he saw a plains biome, his breath still got short when he dug a hole - he couldn’t hear the click of flint and steel or the hiss of TNT without flinching - was he entitled then, too, to make Tubbo suffer like he’d suffered?

No, but -

And, he couldn’t -

It wasn’t the time to be arguing, was all he could come to. It wasn’t the time to be arguing about who did what or hurt who. There would be a time to talk it all out later. And when that time rolled around, he’d have Sam to help him through it, or he’d be dead.

And that was all the thinking he really needed to do on the matter.

He’d been so distracted by his disturbed thoughts that he’d walked farther than he’d intended; when he turned around the house was much smaller with distance, like a child’s plaything. Unlike Tubbo, he didn’t float - so the thick line of his tracks spanned the distance between him and it. With a sigh, he glanced once more at the distant horizon, in which direction laid the sea and the Dream SMP, the place where (hopefully) they’d be leaving for soon, before turning to head back.

Or, at least, that’s why he’d been intending to do.

There was a figure standing where there hadn’t been, moments before. He was dressed in dark green leathers with enchanted Netherite layered over top, and had a smooth white mask with a smiley face burned deeply into it. An enchanted Netherite axe was slung over his shoulders, and he stood with a loose, deceptively casual posture that Tommy would recognize even in death.

It was Dream.

Tommy stopped breathing.

“Tommy!” Dream said, voice warm and friendly, and it could’ve been day one of the exile all over again. “Oh boy, it’s been ages since we got to talk one-on-one. I’ve missed you! Have you missed me?”

“D-Dream?” Tommy stuttered and stumbled backwards, snow weighing his movements and betraying his feet. He slipped and scrambled back up before Dream could so much as twitch. “Is that - is that really you? What’re you doing here?”

“How’d he phrase it? Ah - a ‘little birdie’ told me that Sam’s fallen on some hard times, and you’re all alone again. I guess I must’ve been mistaken - I thought I saw Tubbo just now! Where’d he go?” He acted exaggeratedly, mockingly surprised, turning from side to side as if Tubbo would pop out of the snow at any moment.

Tommy shivered. “Yeah, he’s uh… around. Who told you about Sam?”

Dream cocked his head and considered Tommy. There was a long pause.

“BadBoyHalo. Bad told me,” he said finally, and Tommy tried not to visibly sag with relief. Dream’s tone had shifted to something more serious - which was good. That was a good thing. Unhinged, friendly Dream was a wildcard, and anything you said could set him off, no matter how benign. Serious Dream was… manageable.

“Yeah? Why’d he do that?” He asked, trying to keep the wobble out of his voice, trying to not show any weakness at all.

Dream hummed - barely audible over the wind - and shifted his weight as he considered the question. “They want me to join their faction - or at least temporarily ally with each other. So I - well. So they told me what had happened with Sam, and of course I was immediately concerned about where that would leave you, so, you know. I rushed on over.”

“Right,” Tommy said disbelievingly.

“So how’s it been going, Tommy? This little exercise in freedom. Your little escapade. Has it been everything you hoped for?” Dream paused, then said, “I seem to recall, in our last interaction, warning you how it would - "

“Don’t!” Tommy cut a hand through the air as if it could physically cut off Dream’s words. “Don’t! Don’t fucking - no. No. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, sure. It wasn’t,” Dream agreed easily.

Tommy was already breathing harshly - it was like air had a hard time moving in and out of his lungs. Dream considered him, and sauntered a little closer. Tommy stayed stock-still, almost too scared to move.

“I’m just saying - wasn’t it you that asked him for those berries in the first place? That’s how I found him, you know - pack full of berries, gaping down at the SMP. Idiot stayed holed up in Pandora’s Vault for so long that he had no idea of what was going on. I’m just saying that maybe, if he wasn’t so distracted, he would’ve known to be a little warier, a little smarter. And who was distracting him so much, hm?” Dream stopped just outside of easy reach. “Not me, certainly - I was too busy with cleaning up everybody else’s mess to come and visit. That only leaves you, Tommy.”

“I was just… I was just being myself. I was literally holed up in a prison, Dream, you can’t blame me for you fighting him.”

“I wouldn’t have fought him if he’d stayed the same old Sam I knew and loved.” Dream spread his hands wide, as if to protest his innocence. “Sam and I were friends. We got along great. Everybody on this server did - or used to, before you got here. Don’t you see? It all tracks back to you. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, maybe you don’t feel like it - but Tommy, I’ve thought and I thought about it, and I can trace every single problem in my life right now back to you, and what you did to the relationships on this server when you joined. So I’ve come here with an offer.”

“An… offer,” Tommy repeated slowly. The logic didn't seem to track - but Dream didn't keep him in the dark for long.

“Yeah. Y’know, just - like, look. I can help you. The Eggpire, they came to me and offered a compromise, and it made me realize - you and I, we don’t have to be at odds like this. I can help you free Sam, get Tubbo back - you know, like, the real Tubbo - and make it so that you don’t have to rely on Technoblade for all of this. If you even can rely on him - surely you have doubts, right? I mean, I can count on one hand the number of times where an alliance between you and him has gone well.” Dream held up a fist. “Zero. That’s zero times.”

Tommy snorted despite himself.

“Yeah, well. I could say the same of you,” he replied.

Dream scoffed. “I’d disagree, but whatever. Aren’t you going to ask me what my terms are?”

“I - sure. What’re your terms, Dream?” Tommy didn’t trust Dream as far as he could throw him, and certainly didn’t trust whatever bargain the man had come up with, but - but well, he was defenseless out here, and he had only his mouth and Dream’s ego to rely on.

Again, a horribly, horribly familiar situation. He wondered if he’d ever look at obsidian and lava the same way again.

“The terms are simple: I help you with Sam, I help you with Tubbo, and in exchange, you back to the Prison. Forever. No more wheedling, no more fighting back - you just, give in. Permanently. Tell you what, I’ll even negotiate some sort of visitation schedule with your friends for you - it doesn’t have to be so bad! You just - like, I fix your problems, you go back to the Prison and in doing so fix my problem, and everybody’s happy. What about that?”

Tommy stared at him. It was so - so Dream, in its terrible simplicity, in the gentle, coaxing way that he presented it, as if it was the only logical conclusion. If Tommy hadn’t already done this a dozen times before, he might’ve been swayed - but he had. He had done this before. So many times before. Bargains with Dream never worked out.

Now, only to extricate himself from it.

Dream seemed to take his prolonged silence for something different than what it was - thank God. The man never took rejection well.

“I know this is rather sudden, and it’s a big decision to make - but really, I’m doing you a favor here. I’m being generous! I could’ve - could’ve just jumped you. I mean, you’re alone,” he chuckled. “I could drag you back to the Prison at any point I wanted. Need Sam to get in, but that wouldn’t be so difficult - I could just shove you in like, an obsidian box or something while I go grab him. But no - I am doing this nicely and politely. So keep that in mind, Tommy, when considering how to respond. Things could be much worse.”

“I - I will,” Tommy said slowly.

“Alright. Then, well. I don’t suppose you have a response for me, straight away? We can get this all figured out here and now?” Dream bounced on the tips of his toes with something like excitement.

Tommy remained silent, and Dream stopped bouncing.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I figured. I’d hoped differently, obviously, but, well - wouldn’t be Tommy if you didn’t make everything as difficult as possible, right?” Dream laughed to himself.

Tommy continued to react as little as possible, in the hopes that if he didn’t fuck this up the man would just go away.

Dream paused. “Oh. Hey, Ranboo.”

Tommy turned, and sure enough there was Ranboo - his tall, black figure cutting a stark contrast to the snow. The hybrid was looking between the two of them, eyes wide.

“Dream. Uh, hi. I was just… just looking for Tommy. I didn’t realize you were also here.”

“Yeah, I won’t be sticking around for much longer. How’s your week been? I’ve heard it’s been… eventful around here for the last few days, and I was thinking of you.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s uh, it’s been - it’s been somethin’. Lots of people. Lots of, uh - drama. But I have also, uh, heard that there’s some of that goin’ on back in town, too, so I imagine that you’ve got your hands pretty full.”

Dream laughed. “Drama is definitely an understatement for what’s going on back in the SMP. Drama. Jeez. Yeah, no, we’ve got a whole apocalypse on our hands - or something like it. You should steer clear of it for the next few days, Ranboo - I know you don’t like violence or partisanship, and there’s a lot of that going on.”

“Oh! Ok, thank you! I appreciate, uh, that heads up. Though I think I may already be involved,” he added, with a glance at Tommy.

"Let’s hope not. I’ll see you next week, alright? Usual time and place. Stay safe. And Tommy - think about it. I know you guys must be headed to get Sam soon; I’ll be around when that happens.”

Dream gave them a wave as parting then turned and set back off into the snow. With the haze as it was - wind picking up the loose top layer of snow and blowing it around - he vanished quickly. Ranboo walked up next to Tommy, also watching Dream’s figure disappear.

“He is evil, Ranboo.” Tommy said quietly once the other was within earshot. “Don’t trust him. You will… worse than regret it. He ruins lives.”

Ranboo considered that as he stared into the snow. “He said something similar about you, once."

And that was that. They walked back to the house without another word.

(Tommy’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.)

Chapter Text

Night had encroached upon the arctic once more by the time they set out. It took only an hour or two from the point of Phil’s arrival to get everything ready and head back out again, all told; it felt like a lifetime.

He and Ranboo had returned with that dead, uncomfortable silence between them. Phil and Techno hadn’t noticed it at first, wrapped up in themselves as they always were. Fran had been sitting quietly in a corner as they’d milled around, same place as Sam’d parted with her. Tommy went and sat at her side, leaning into her warm weight as the last of the preparations were made. She’d whined, and he’d run a hand through her fur.

“I know,” he’d said quietly. “I don’t like it either. We’ll get him back soon.”

Ranboo’s mismatched eyes had bored into him from across the room - only looking away once he stared back.

But as they’d been packing up their things, Phil had looked between the two of them. “What’s up with you two? Worried about Sam? Well, I mean, obviously - but you were both much chattier before you went out.”

Ranboo opened his mouth to respond, but Tommy cut in before he could do so. “Nothing. Nothing happened. Ranboo and I just had something of a disagreement about… what we should do, is all.”

Ranboo’s mouth clicked shut, and Phil looked between the two of them, an eyebrow rising skeptically. “That so.”

“Yep. Unless you wanna tell them something different, Ranboo? A little sharing time?” A vicious edge seeped into Tommy’s tone and he had to forcibly reel himself back, as even Technoblade looked up from where he was preparing packs of supplies.

Ranboo was hunching over even more now, looking scared and browbeaten. He was looking at the floor. “No. Uh… no. I’m, uh, good. Sorry.”

He looked pathetic. It made Tommy sick - he scoffed and looked away.

A second disbelieving eyebrow rose to join Phil’s first, but all he said was, “Uh huh.” After a moment, when no more conversation was forthcoming, he turned back to Techno and resumed their quiet considerations.

Tommy was sick of all of this, really. He leaned into Fran and closed his eyes, burying his face in her soft fur. She smelled like Sam’s place still, just a bit. She did a doggy sigh, one that he felt through the expansion and contraction of her rib cage, and shifted so that she could better brace against him.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that - couldn’t understand how he’d managed it - but fall asleep he did. He was only aware of this fact when a gentle touch on his shoulder woke him once more.

He flinched and his eyes shot open, hand convulsing in Fran’s fur even as he jerked away from her. She growled at the person who’d woken him - Technoblade, who was now warily eyeing her.

“We’re gettin’ ready to head out,” he said, presumably to Tommy, though he and the dog were engaging in some very intense eye contact. “Figured you’d like to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Tommy scrubbed a hand over his face, through his hair, and tried to wake himself up faster. “Ok. Yeah, I’m ready.”

He got slowly to his feet, as his muscles began to protest his sleeping in such an odd position. Fran got up as well - pressed herself against his leg. Ranboo and Phil were already at the door, chatting amiably in the way that people who didn’t pick fights with every breathing thing around them could do.

Techno straightened from his crouch, but otherwise stayed where he was.

“What?” Tommy snapped. “I’m moving, I’m moving. I won’t hold us up.”

“No, it’s not that,” Techno said, waving Tommy’s peevish comment aside. “I just… I dunno. I’m sorry, for earlier. Phil told me I was overreactin’, and he was right. It was - well, the voices were real upset, but that’s no reason t’be pushin’ you around like that. So I’m sorry.”

It was so uncharacteristic for Technoblade to apologize that Tommy stopped what he was doing. “I… you don’t have to say you’re sorry, big man. Since when did we all bother with things like that?” He tried to play his surprise off with a weak chuckle. Techno’s eyes were dark.

“Maybe we ought to be doin’ more of it,” Techno said, shrugging. “Might… mighta solved a lotta problems, back in the day. Maybe I didn’t realize that then. Maybe I oughta think more about it now.”

He was talking about Tubbo. He had to be. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek and couldn’t quite make eye contact. “I wish you the best of luck with that, my friend. And… thank you, I guess,” was all he could manage.

They parted ways with that, both intensely uncomfortable. Tommy grabbed his pack and started towards the door. Philza was watching him, having clearly witnessed the encounter, with a funny little smile playing around his lips. Tommy made a face at him and brushed past.

Ranboo was waiting outside, pack already shouldered, face to the wind. He was looking out at the edge of the torchlight - Tommy thought he saw a tall silhouette, a hint of purple in the black there. The hybrid turned though, at the noise of the door opening, and blinked at Tommy’s abrupt appearance. There wasn’t time to say anything; Phil was right on his heels and Technoblade after.

Tommy glanced back as Techno went to shut the door, and saw Fran slump to the floor again, in that same damn spot. She was looking at him.

There also wasn’t time for him to do anything before the door closed, but the sight of her waiting for an owner that might never come back… well, it settled into his heart. Into that chamber of memories he just couldn’t address without breaking down.

-

The decided to go by boat, out of concern the Eggpire might be camping out the Nether Hub - that this all might be some grand trap. Techno lead the group to the shore, Phil at his side, the two of them summarily dispatching any mobs that came their way. There was, as always, a joking exchange between the warrior and Philza any time a baby zombie attacked; something about Phil dying to one in a past life. They seemed unbothered, Techno particularly more relaxed now that he could wield his sword, and now that Phil’s life was no longer in danger.

Tommy and Ranboo walked behind, that same uneasy silence between them.

Ranboo was the first one to break it this time. “Hey, Tommy, I just wanted to say that I - I’m sorry. I know that you and Dream have a pretty fraught history, and I don’t wanna seem like I was taking his side over yours. I don’t know if you, uh, remember this, but I don’t really believe in taking sides overall - “

“I know,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know you’re a pacifist and all that. Or nonpartisan,” he added, slightly proud of himself for remembering the word. “You’re very emphatic about it.”

“I am very emphatic about it,” Ranboo replied, an undercurrent of amusement to his words. “Its… well, kinda my entire life philosophy. But, uh, yeah. Not taking a side doesn’t mean I don’t get why you don’t like him - hate him, even. I know that a lot’s happened between the two of you. I know he killed Tubbo - and I’m not, not tryin’ to erase that.” Ranboo looked away, expression inscrutable in the dark. “We talk, but we’re not friends.”

Tommy pursed his lips, a dozen angry responses wanting to burst out. What he finally settled on was a neutral, “What do you two talk about, then?”

“Oh, well. Just… stuff. I haven’t been around for really long, you know, and Dream has - so sometimes he tells me about what it was like before everybody else got here. Then sometimes he helps me with stuff - I’m, ah, not so good at looting. Or building. Or combat.” Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly.

“Before everybody else got here, as in - me? He shit talks me?” Tommy asked dryly. Ranboo frowned and glanced over.

“Not really. I mean, he’s mentioned you arriving once or twice - but no, usually we just talk about when, like, George and Sapnap were around. And Sam and Bad and Ant, Ponk, Punz, Alyssa, Callahan… you know, the whole gang. He seems to really miss it.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, I bet.” A pause. “You know he did all that himself, right? I mean, he blames me, but - he drove all those people away. Said that the attachments were weaknesses and cut them off - told me when we had our kind of final fight. All except Sam, who he needed for the Prison. And you, apparently, for… some reason.”

“Is it really so odd to think that he’d want somebody to talk to? I mean, he may be wildly powerful, but he’s still… still human, right? People need friends. They need to talk to other people, or else they go crazy.”

“He is crazy. And he doesn’t want friends - he told me himself, right before he murdered Tubbo just to - just to get to me. So, whatever he is to you - you are not his friend.” Tommy paused again, and shot Ranboo a sidelong look. “I hope you haven’t told him anything important.”

Ranboo was frowning, considering what Tommy told him. “I - well, so do I, I guess. I’m not so good about remembering things. That’s… a lot to process.”

Tommy shrugged. “Process it or not. ’S not really my problem, is it? I got enough Dream-related shit on my plate - your, uh, business with him is your own. So if you were like, trying to get forgiven for talking with him, consider it fine. Don’t really know why you’d apologize to me in the first place, but whatever.”

“Well, it’s because you’re my friend, and I hurt your feelings, and that wasn’t right. That’s why I needed to talk to you about this. We… we are still friends, right? You didn’t… uh, change your mind, already? I am truly sorry - “ Ranboo was twisting his hands together, shoulders hunched down. His slumped posture didn’t achieve much, as he was still a good deal taller than Tommy, but…

It really was pathetic. Tommy’s heart was twisting in his chest. He reached out and put a hand on Ranboo’s arm, and the hybrid went quiet. Tommy didn’t look at him.

“Yeah, we’re still friends, Ranboo. It’s alright.” He sighed. “And you don’t have to pick my side, either. Just keep what I said in mind.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Ranboo bobbed his head, the motion just slightly inhuman. “I will. Thank you. I, uh, well - I don’t know. Thank you for being understanding? I didn’t really expect you to… handle it well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Everybody’s thinking I’m just gonna blow up and act the idiot all the time, like I’m not allowed to grow, or anything - look,” he said, and Ranboo was already cringing again, so he modulated his voice to something less irritated. “Look. Maybe in the past I would’ve acted like that. Maybe sometimes I’ll still act like that. But I’m getting better. I’m trying to be better. Ranboo…” Tommy tilted his head as he thought. “The first time we met each other, the last time we really interacted, was just before the exile. And that was one of the worst parts of my life, ever. L’Manberg, the stuff with Wilbur and Schlatt - no matter how bad that got, it still doesn’t even compare. And then I was in prison, and that sucked ass, too. I mean, Sam was there, but he wasn’t really my Sam - not quite yet. He had some growing to do as well. So, yeah. I’m not the Tommy you knew. I’m not even the Tommy those idiots,” he nodded to indicate the adults in front of them, “have known. I’m trying my best to be something better.”

“That’s… remarkably profound.”

Tommy shrugged. “Not really. Sam ’n me’ve been talking about it. He gets a lot of my little hangups - doesn’t just yell or get mad at me about ‘em. Makes it easier to talk about the bigger stuff.”

“Yeah, I get that. Well… I’m happy for you? That sounds nice.” Ranboo sighed, expression slightly distant. “Really nice, in fact. I’m a little jealous.”

“Hey,” Tommy nudged Ranboo in the side, and waited until the hybrid looked in his approximate direction. “Don’t you go trying to poach Sam to fix your emotional issues. Find your own… person.”

Ranboo laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it. Well, I do have Tubbo - but he’s got a lot of problems of his own, so I don’t know if it’s really the same thing.”

“No, I don’t think so either,” Tommy said, and another complex quiet fell upon them as they drew up to the edge of the water, where Phil and Techno had stopped and waiting for them.

At least they’d sorted out their tension, in any case.

-

It’s like this -

It’s pain. It is a never-ending, never-wavering, ceaseless pain, akin to a note drawn out so long that it becomes background noise, becomes meaningless.

Until it isn’t. Until the pain ends. But it doesn’t end - it does but it doesn’t. It’s a crucible he’s being forged in. The Egg whispers to him - or he whispers to it? - and its voice sounds like Dream, like like Tubbo, like Tommy, like Ponk - like his own. The voices are legion. The voices are one, and it’s been talking to him, and he can’t quite remember if he’s been talking back.

It’s like this: Sam surfaces in a haze of red and burning, and it’s pitch black dark, and he doesn’t know where his body ends and the Egg begins, and there are voices outside of it. One raises above the others, loud enough that he can make out what they’re saying.

“You’re hurting him!” It’s Puffy, and it’s real.

Maybe. Probably.

Then another voice chimes in - Bad, responding, and Sam becomes marginally more certain that this is a real interaction.

Bad’s voice gets closer to the Egg. “When it’s done he won’t remember. When it’s done he’ll barely care at all. It’s a refinement process. Sam… the Egg wanted him to be the first, to contribute his life force and be replenished through its power. We’ll all be going through it soon enough! And we’ll all be together, and then all the SMP will be a part of the Crimson.”

“He’s been screaming, Bad. Surely you’re not… surely you care. It’s Sam.”

The Egg vibrated, and Sam could almost feel Bad’s presence on the outside, the warmth of his hand and life where it made contact with the Egg’s shell - he could almost feel the presence of everybody outside of it. Or did he? Did he feel them? Did he feel Bad’s impassioned drive, Ant’s amused placidity, Ponk’s burning anger, Puffy’s dismayed reticence - did he really feel them out there, just beyond the shell of the Egg, or was his brain finally melting as his body had been?

“Of course I care. This is what’s best for him; if we pull him out now he’ll just fall apart. When he comes out he’ll be stronger - with the power of the Egg we won’t have to worry about things like sickness or death anymore. The Egg will help us communicate! No more petty squabbles, no more prisons - we just have to make some sacrifices along the way.”

“So you admit you’re sacrificing him!”

“Ok, well, technically he is sacrificing a bit of himself - but the Egg will replace it! No need to worry! Just - just give it some time to work. Cut it some slack.” Bad’s voice shifted away again, moving back into the room.

“I’m gonna cut something,” a dark mutter, just outside the shell. Ponk.

Another hand on the exterior. This one was cold. “Don’t worry Sammie. We’ll get you out of here.”

A stirring in the Egg, and a sense of foreboding. If it was his own or the Egg’s - again, he just couldn’t say.

He fell into the red once more, and the agony was interminable - soon, the whole exchange was washed from his mind.

-

Night was well-advanced by the time they made landfall. Town looked wildly different from the last time Tommy had seen it; especially in the dim lighting, the large vines rising up around the path looked disturbingly vague. It was almost as if they were moving in the corner of his eye - but when he spun, when he looked at them directly, they froze. Or perhaps they’d just never moved at all; perhaps it was nothing more than the flickering torchlight.

Phil had gone quiet. Techno had a hand on his sword. Ranboo pulled a hoe from his pack and began cutting through the vines indiscriminately.

“I don’t know why people are so careful around these things,” he grunted as he worked. “They’re just vines.”

Phil watched him uneasily. “You don’t hear anything when you… interact with them?”

“Mm… not really. I’ve dealt with worse.” Another brutal swing, and Ranboo kicked the severed vine away from the path.

“Sam had bad experiences with them. And then when I touched one, almost right after we got here, it… it, uh, said some things to me. Some really vile shit.”

“Like what?” Techno asked quietly. He was watching the night around them, same as Tommy.

“Ah… well, just some stuff about Wilbur. Don’t really want to get into it, y’know, given our current situation and location.” Phil scratched the back of his neck, grimacing, as Techno glanced at him.

But in the midst of it all, hellish though the new landscape was, Tommy couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as they walked the Prime Path. The wood of the path was largely as they’d left it, as they’d first laid it. Back in days where the landscape had been crude and unfinished, where there’d been barely anybody around, just him and Tubbo, Wilbur and Dream, simpler days. The buildings that lined the path - well, they weren’t unfamiliar, but they were just of an era he held less fondness for.

For a second, armor he’d gotten from Sam felt almost like a suit, stiff in the shoulders, sized just a little too big - they’d never gotten that fixed, had they? Wil’d always said he’d ask Niki, but they’d never gotten around to it.

Where’d he left that suit? Had it been PogTopia? Cast off in the last remnants of the revolution? He couldn’t say.

The Prison rose ominously to their right as they walked, appearing and then receding in the distance as they wound their way around town. It was the first time he’d seen it since being imprisoned there. He vaguely remembered cracking jokes about it as it’d become a fixture in their skyline; it was almost disturbingly close to his home, he could see now. The thought that all that time in Pandora’s Vault, when it’d felt like he’d been dropped into Hell itself, the thought that all that time he’d been maybe a thirty minute’s walk from home - the thought seemed to rattle around in his chest. It hurt. It was uncomfortable.

“Town seems different without all the people in it,” Phil muttered, breaking the thick and oppressive silence they’d all settled into. Tommy latched onto the conversation, desperate to get out of his own head.

“You don’t even know the half of it. It’s even more odd to have seen this place go from just… just, well, empty land, to all this junk, and then once everything’s built and the land’s all clogged up everybody just takes off again. And I wasn’t even around to see it all go to shit. Feel like the apocalypse happened while I was stuck in a bunker, or something similar.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine.” Phil paused for a moment. “Guess I hadn’t thought about you being here before everything else.”

“Yup. Here before Wilbur, even.”

“You must miss it.”

“On some level, I guess. ’S more just spooky to be here now, though.” Tommy lost track of the conversation as his old house came into view.

Somebody had fixed it.

Last Tommy’d seen of the house, it had been converted to netherrack and fire. Now it was comprised of its original dirt once more; there were flowers planted out front. The others walked straight past it, intent on Church Prime just over the hill, but Tommy slowed and stopped outside its doors.

Phil glanced back. “Tommy?”

“Just a moment. You can, uh, go on without me - if you want. I just gotta check something.”

“No, we’ll wait,” Tommy heard Ranboo say, but he was already half-inside. The doors closed behind him.

This, too, had the feel of a place long-undisturbed, but the sensation had a different quality to it than that of the Community House. It felt - well, it was coming home. It was night behind him, but if he closed his eyes it could’ve been daylight spilling over his shoulders, Wilbur and Tubbo squabbling outside. It felt sacred, here - more like holy ground than Church Prime had ever been to him. It felt like something to be preserved.

He ignored the sensation and went into the back, looking around carefully - then jammed his fingers into a crevice in the wall. The stone shifted, grating and squeaking loudly as it did so, before finally popping free and pulling away. He placed it aside.

There was a little chest he’d left. It was from ages ago - only half-remembered, really. A bolthole he’d left when he still believed in those, from when this place had still been a home and he’d still had things to protect, other than the disks.

There wasn’t much - a handful of diamonds, an enchantment book, the barest scrap of Netherite. He shoved it all aside - pocketed the diamonds but left the rest. However, at the bottom, there was something useful.

There was an enchanted golden apple, gleaming a dull purple at him from the depths. He couldn’t really remember where he’d gotten it from.

You know, life in retrospect seems so simple and straightforward - memory seems so concrete. Then sometimes you get confronted with a detail, an important detail, that you’ve somehow lost amongst the mess, confronted with the relativity of all perceived existence -

Tommy shrugged and pocketed the apple.

Stupid thoughts. Unproductive.

He headed back out the door.

He thought he saw a flash of green to his side as he left, buried in the shadows of the house - but when he glanced, squinting, torch brandished before him, there was nothing there.

-

Sam wasn’t conscious when the Egg’s shell was pierced, but the light and noise of it all brought him back to waking. Somebody was talking, tugging on his arms, wiping the hair away from his eyes.

He opened said eyes blearily. Everything was a hazy red, but there, an outline -

“Puffy?” He croaked.

The figure exhaled noisily in relief, and it was Puffy. She tugged on him again, and got him propped up against the lip of the crack in the Egg.

“Hey pal,” she panted. “Glad to see you’re still conscious. Don’t look too good. Can you move for me?”

“I…” Sam blinked down. His own outline was fuzzy. He couldn’t feel his legs. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“That’s ok. We’re gonna be ok. Just let me,” she got an arm wrapped around him and tugged, and he spilled out of the Egg. Vines and pulp spilled out with him; Puffy groaned. “God that stinks. I’m going to have to burn this suit or something after all of this is done.”

“What?” Sam tried blinking again. It felt like his eyes just wouldn’t focus - he could only see in shades of red, and blurry shades at that. His body felt like it was communicating with him from the opposite end of a football field; signals from it were slow and faint. Like he had been disconnected from it, but not all the way.

“Oh Sam. You’re not lookin’ so good. We’re gonna get you out of here, ok, bud? We’ve got some friends waiting for you.”

“O - mm, ok.” He slumped against Puffy as she took a deep breath and slung his arm around her shoulder. He did his best to lean against her as he stood. Again, he couldn’t quite feel his legs - but he must’ve done something right, because they staggered forward together.

“What happened?” He asked, as she half-led half-dragged them across a vast, echoing cavern. The ground was uneven and varied in texture; he could feel the soft material of the vines underfoot, more strongly than he could sense anything else around them. He could make out the occasional snap and hiss of magma blocks as well.

“Oh. Well, a lot’s happened - do you mean since you fell in? Like, to you, or just generally? Well, I guess to you makes the most sense… I don’t know how much you remember, or if you’re really thinking logically at this point. What happened to you is that Bad and Ant - and Ponk, kinda, but he didn’t mean to - tricked you into falling into the Egg. And it’s been, uh, kinda - kinda eating you? Or something? Maybe like digesting you? Or maybe some kind of metamorphosis - Bad was really unclear about the whole thing. But you’ve been inside it. And, uh, you don’t - don’t look quite the same as when you fell in. Look kinda awful, to be honest.”

“Yeah?” Sam sighed. They reached a set of stairs; Puffy leaned him against them and ran up to the top, peering around quietly. Apparently content with her observations, she ran back down and collected him once more.

“Yeah. But, uh, me ’n Ponk felt really bad about what was happening to you, so we went and got some help, and came up with a plan to bust you out. He wanted to be here, by the way - I told him I’d apologize to you for him. Or, well, that’s not quite what he wanted me to say - but you know, it’s Ponk, he’s never super straightforward about how he feels. So I’ll just tell you: he’s really sorry. He was kinda on the fence about all the Egg stuff, but he got really upset when they just threw you in and wouldn’t pull you back out, when it became obvious how rough it was for you. So he’s out with Bad and Ant right now, leading them away. I was gonna do it, but they’re super suspicious of me right now. ‘Cause I was, uh, less than subtle about how unhappy I was.”

The stairs turned into hallways that seemed to go on forever. Sam was slipping.

“Sam? Sam! Hey! Hey, friend, I need you to hold on - hey, let’s just, let’s just sit down for a moment, alright? We, uh, don’t really have the time for it, but - but yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna, uh, hit a second wind I guess,” Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d shut them. Puffy was hovering in front of him, hands wrapped around his arms and holding him upright. He could make out her face a little better now. She looked worried.

“Puffy,” he rasped.

“Yeah! Yeah that’s, uh, me! Good! Let’s keep that focus up and,” she tugged him to his feet once more. He sagged against her, so she had to brace against the wall - but they remained upright. “And let’s keep going. We don’t have a lot of time before they get back, I don’t think.”

“I’d go faster if I could,” he said, and Puffy huffed like she didn’t know whether to laugh or not. He didn’t know whether or not he was joking, either. Understanding himself was so far beyond what he could manage right now; he could barely understand what was going on.

More stairs, soon after that. So many more stairs. Sam clung to Puffy and clung to consciousness, and soon the world narrowed down to managing that.

-

True to word, the rest of the rescue group had stayed waiting outside Tommy's old house. They continued onward once he'd rejoined them.

Church Prime and the surrounding holy lands were untouched by the blight, as Sam had said. It painted a remarkable picture, were he in the mood to enjoy such a thing; vines crawled across the landscape all around, dripping from the taller buildings and fairly swarming the Path - but in the midst of it all, a square where they would not go, Church Prime a diminutive white and purple beacon standing defiantly against the dark.

He thought about the day where he and Dream had built that church.

He carried onward.

It was a relief to finally step into the holy lands and be, well, as safe as one could be out here. He heard Ranboo sigh behind him, and Phil chuckle quietly. Techno muttered something. Tommy didn’t look back.

There was a figure standing - lounging, really - in the doorway of Church Prime. Blonde hair, full set of enchanted Netherite armor -

“Punz,” he said aloud in his surprise, in recognition.

“Hey Tommy. And company,” he added, nodding to the group behind him. “Puffy and Ponk asked me to hang out here, in case you guys didn’t make it in time. Y’know, ‘cause Puffy’s getting Sam, and Ponk can’t come into the holy lands, since he’s been infected by the Egg. Guess since you’re here I can leave now.”

He straightened and stretched, brushing by Tommy - but paused just before he did so. “Hey, by the way,” he muttered lowly. “I got your apology. And - I’m sorry too. I tried to help, but I wasn’t fast enough. Just… I dunno, thought you might wanted to know that.”

Tommy stared at him, and after a moment Punz shrugged and began walking away.

“Thank you,” Tommy called, just as Punz made it to the edge of the holy land. Phil and Techno walked past, into Church Prime. Ranboo remained outside with him.

The mercenary turned and offered him a flippant salute before melting once more into the darkness. But then something else caught Tommy's attention. On the hill just above where Punz had vanished, legs dangling over the edge of the Prime Path, was that - ? A familiar figure in green leathers, a pale mask gleaming in the moonlight.

Surely his mind was just playing tricks on him again. Like with the vines.

“What is it, Tommy?” A quiet voice asked from behind him. Tommy glanced back.

“Well it’s just, d’you - “ He cut himself off as he caught sight of Ranboo’s face.

Didn't Ranboo only have one green eye?

“Nothing,” he said faintly, abruptly. “Nothing at all.”

-

It was nice, to feel the air on his face again. Puffy groaned as they emerged from the staircase and spilled onto soft grass.

“Thank Prime,” she said. “Let’s… never do that again. Ok. Uh, this way.”

They staggered forward once more. Wood underfoot now. Sam couldn’t see anything.

“Puffy, I don’t… why don’t you just kill me? I’m not… I don’t think I’m gonna make it. And I still got all my lives,” he said quietly, finally managing to voice a thought that had been formulating since he'd been freed from the Egg.

“No. No way, no how. We’re getting you out of here, Sam. I’m not letting them just kill you - particularly not after I put all this work into saving you.” She made a noise that could’ve been a laugh, under her heavy breathing. Sam examined his own breathing, and realized he was making a noise akin to a death rattle. He tried to regulate it and ended up lapsing into a coughing fit. Puffy paused for him again.

“Do you need - uh, do you need water? Yeah, I guess that makes sense - you didn’t have any in there…” She fumbled around her pack. Sam watched her blearily.

“Didn’t have any food, either. Ended up having to eat bits of myself.” He waved an arm at her to demonstrate, the bits where flesh had fallen off clear blotches even to his blurry vision. Puffy had frozen, and her face was pale.

“Holy fuck,” she said quietly.

Sam’s head tilted on his shoulders, sagging to the side. “Don’t think there was all that much holy about it,” he said, and it wasn’t - wasn’t quite him that said it. It was something else. It was him but something else. It felt wrong.

“Right,” Puffy said, and finally produced what she was looking for. “Um. I got a flask of holy water - don’t know what it’ll do to you in your present state… I hope it doesn’t like, burn you or anything.”

“Maybe it’ll kill me,” Sam said, shrugging as he reached forward to take it. His hand missed, and he nearly fell over with the motion. Puffy sighed and moved forward.

“Here, let me help. Just open your mouth.”

And Sam did, and Puffy gave him the holy water, and he didn’t die. He even felt a little better. He blinked at her.

“Puffy, I think there’s something else inside my head. Something that’s not me,” he said, and Puffy pursed her lips.

“Yeah, I’m getting that. Just try and hold on, buddy. We’re almost there.”

And they kept moving, as Sam tried to ignore the twisting, sinuous coils of thought inside his head. He couldn’t grip onto any of them; or perhaps it was, if he did, he’d lose his grasp on sanity completely. It was as if he’d cracked a door and let in the light - and he couldn’t really tell if he was grateful for having done so. Some monsters are better left in the dark.

They crested a hill.

-

Below, Tommy turned and went to join Phil and Techno inside Church Prime, thoroughly unnerved by the night - but before he could, he caught motion on the hill to his right. And it was real, this time - really real.

Two figures were moving slowly through the torchlight, one leaning heavily against the other, and his heart sank and soared all at the same time. It felt a little like how he’d imagine a heart attack.

It was Puffy and Sam.

Chapter Text

“Oh,” came from next to him, and when Tommy looked back, this time Ranboo looked normal. Maybe his eyes had never changed at all. “That’s, uh - we are spotting too many people limping towards us from the distance today, aren’t we? I’ll get Techno and Phil."

“Yeah, do that,” Tommy said. Ranboo was already moving inside, and Tommy himself went to the edge of the holy lands. He wanted to run past them, he really did - but, this wasn’t the arctic. This wasn’t familiar territory, and there was a crawling sensation between his shoulder blades telling him that this was a time to be careful.

And that sensation paid off as Puffy and Sam crested the hill, beginning what looked like a slow and painful descent - and an arrow flew out of the night, from the opposite side of the Prime Path. Puffy had bent down to better shift Sam onto her shoulder; it missed her barely.

She startled with surprise and slipped on the step - Tommy watched the two of them teeter ominously and found himself decided.

He stepped forward out of the holy lands, even as he heard Philza call with some exasperation, “Tommy, wait!” behind him. Tommy ignored him.

Bad and Ant stepped out of the darkness. They, too, were supporting a slumped figure; this one, however, was more dragged between the two of them.

It was Ponk. He seemed battered - and unconscious.

They threw Ponk forward as they came to a stop a safe distance away. He landed on the wooden planks of the Path with a sick thud and didn’t stir. Ant had his crossbow loaded, but didn’t bother with aiming, letting it drop to his side. Bad, too, seemed unconcerned with the armed party that was by now flanking Tommy.

“You really thought you could lie to us and break into the Egg, and we wouldn’t notice at all?” Bad called to Puffy, who had soldiered through the lapse and was now nearing the bottom of the steps. Now that they were closer Tommy could see that Puffy looked worse for wear as well. There were cuts running up her arms and across her face, as if she’d been cut by shrapnel. Her suit was ripped, and matted with blood. And Sam…

Tommy couldn’t focus on Sam. Bad was saying something else.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t notice you cutting into the Egg? Freeing Sam? Did you really think we’d let you just waltz away with him?”

“How could you have known?” Puffy asked. Her voice was raspy. She didn’t even sound too taken aback - more tired than anything.

Bad laughed. “The Egg knows everything that goes on around here, as it has it’s - it’s feelers that it’s got put out. And through it, we know too! Now,” he prodded Ponk with his foot, and Tommy felt a vague relief as Ponk moved slightly and groaned. Would’ve been kinda fucked up if they’d just been dragging around a corpse. “Give Sam back, or we’ll kill Ponk. We’ll kill both of them, even - Sam doesn’t look like he could take a crossbow shot right now. Heck, you know what - give up now, or we’ll kill you all! How about that?”

Techno snorted, stepping up to Tommy’s side, just beyond the border of the holy lands. “You and what army?”

Bad gave him a sidelong look. “Oh, we have our ways. Or, at least, we will - soon enough. Have you reconsidered our offer, Techno?”

Techno was slouching - he didn’t even seem bothered enough to draw his weapon. Tommy hated him a little for that. “Nope - haven’t. Honestly, I wiped it from my mind, like, five minutes after we finished talking. It was takin’ up valuable memory space.”

Bad’s mouth dropped open slightly, then he folded his arms, with an expression that, were it not taking place on the face of a towering demon, would have been a pout. “Well there’s no need to be rude.”

“It was a bad offer,” Techno said like he was stating the obvious. “You’re offerin’ me a stake in some kind of weird mix between empire ’n cult, ’n actin’ like that’s supposed to be appealin’ to me. It isn’t.”

“And what does Tommy have for you? Why bother helping him?” Bad asked, scowling.

Techno opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated and looked at Tommy, who stared back - curious to know the answer, despite himself.

The silence stretched out. Bad huffed impatiently. “Whatever - not like it’s important right now. What’s important is that you hand Sam over, Puffy. We’re not leaving without him - and shame on you, really, for interfering after we told you about all the Egg’s plans for him! I know you haven’t been particularly enthusiastic with the direction our plans have gone, but actively interfering is just too far.”

“And I told you I’m not giving him over,” Puffy replied evenly. Sam had slumped over at this point, giving into unconsciousness himself. Puffy had helped him down to the steps and straightened now, brushing off her coat and drawing her sword. “So… well, I accept the consequences of that decision.”

Bad pursed his lips. “Again, we’ll just kill all of you. This is pointless. We have the Egg on our side - I know you guys are a pretty formidable force, but mortal beings just aren’t comparable. I mean, look - get up, Ponk.”

He kicked Ponk in the side, who groaned again - then stirred.

He got unsteadily to his feet, movements unnatural, as if piloted by a puppeteer. The red of his eyes had now begun to glow and spread, carving deep, pulsing crevices across Ponk’s face.

“Get ready to fight,” Bad said, almost like an afterthought, though the smile spreading across his face was more gleeful than dismissive.

Ponk drew his sword. It wavered in his hands, until Bad came up alongside him, at which point it steadied. Bad leaned an elbow on Ponk’s shoulder and slouched against him.

“So! There’s the power of the Crimson for ya. Wanna see if I can do the same thing with Sam?” Bad concluded, a friendly smile curling across his lips.

Puffy stared back with mute horror.

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, but for once, words failed him. A moment of silence stretched out between the three parties.

And it was broken by not any of them, but by a fourth.

“Well this seems like quite the pickle,” a voice came out of the night, from the direction that Tommy had been looking before this had all started. “I’m a little late, missed all the talk of offers. Have you considered mine - Tommy?”

It was a surprise, but it also wasn’t one at all. Typical of Dream, to wait until he could make his grand entrance, to sit back and wait for things to fall into place before knocking the board over entirely. Tommy could feel his breath getting short just at the sound of his name coming from Dream’s lips. He could feel the anxiety setting in. He glanced at Sam - he couldn’t help it.

That was a mistake, though. Dream saw the glance, Tommy had no doubt - and showing weakness around Dream always had such awful consequences.

Behind him Philza said, “What offer?”

But Dream didn’t acknowledge any of this, didn’t look at anybody but Tommy. “I can help you out of this... this situation here. I told you something like this would happen.”

“Dream, as I recall, you were offering us help - ” Bad started.

Tommy cut him off, not even really registering that Bad had spoken. “If you predicted this happening, it’s only because you had a hand in it. But - you’ll help me get Sam away? If I go back to the Prison with you?”

“I will personally ensure Sam’s survival,” Dream said, hand to his heart. “You have my word.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Since when did you learn nuance?”

“Hey.” Techno moved forward again, so that he was now slightly in between Tommy and Dream. “I don’t know what kind of weird mind games you guys have goin’ on, but you’re not takin’ Tommy anywhere. And we’ll be takin’ Sam with us.”

“Hey there, Techno,” Dream’s tone shifted to something more cautious, more disappointed. It was a tone Tommy had heard a million times in exile, the means through which Dream had tried to cajole Tommy into doing what he wanted, the carrot before the stick. Techno seemed wholly unaffected. “You owe me a favor. Let me handle this - just, just step back, and I’ll consider it settled.”

“Mm. Yeah, nope. Ranboo gave me a map to a Woodland Mansion for like, for free, maybe a week after you gave me yours. So the relative value of that favor has gone down significantly for me, I’d say. Maybe if Tommy’d like, kicked you in the shins or something, and you wanted to kick him back, maybe then I’d let all this go. But this seems a little more important than that.”

“Oh really? Ranboo gave you a map? That’s… news to me. Hm. Well, when you put it like that.”

Tommy didn’t dare glance over his shoulder at Ranboo, and Techno didn’t twitch. There was a shuffle behind them, though, a muttered response from Ranboo that Tommy couldn’t quite make out.

“So - Tommy? Are you coming with me or no? I really do think it’s the best decision for you here - the one that results in the least amount of bloodshed. I know you don’t usually care about how many people die and are hurt because of you, but you’ve also been so gung-ho about taking responsibility recently, I figured I’d ask.”

Tommy opened his mouth, stung, but Techno put a hand on his arm. Tommy glanced at him, and Techno shook his head slightly.

Not worth it, the message was, and Techno wasn’t wrong.  Responding to Dream only kept him going, added fuel to the fire - so Tommy didn’t respond.

After a beat of silence, Dream shrugged. “Whatever, I guess. I tried doing this the easy way.”

He raised his arm and flung something in Puffy’s direction - Tommy only recognized it as an ender pearl when a corresponding one appeared in Techno’s hand. It was too late, though - Dream was already there, shoving Puffy down the steps and hoisting up Sam’s slumped form. Techno’s hand flew to his crossbow instead.

“Stop!” Dream yelled, and Techno froze. “Stop,” Dream repeated, probably to Phil behind them, or perhaps to Bad and Ant - who were sitting back and watching the drama unfold, Ponk still wavering between them. “I can kill him before you get your weapon out.”

Techno paused. “Maybe, but I don’t know if it’s me you need to be concerned with.”

And with that he flicked open the clasp to his crossbow. It sagged slightly in his hand, and Dream was right - he never would’ve been fast enough to getting it aimed before Dream had his axe slitting the defenseless Sam’s throat. But that wasn’t the point.

“Oh, fuck yeah, finally!” a boiling mass of pitch-black void said with the voice of a young boy, and the ghost of Tubbo came flying out of it, crossbow in his hand and mere feet away from Dream. Dream dropped Sam and fumbled with his shield, but it was too late - Tubbo had the crossbow shoved into the gap between his armor and his mask already.

“Go to hell,” Tubbo said, teeth bared as he pulled the trigger, and there was a spray of blood. Dream stumbled back, hands clutching at his mask. Tubbo floated in the air, so that he was level with Dream on the steps, and the crossbow reformed into an axe of his own.

“Get Sam - I’ve got the Egg goons,” Techno barked, and Tommy nodded furiously as he split off. Sam was dangerously close to the fight - though Tubbo seemed to be more than holding his own, so that wasn’t so much of a concern. Dream’s movements were sloppy and uncoordinated, a far cry from his usual ability. Tommy half-watched them as he struggled to leverage Sam into a sitting position.

A pair of scraped-up hands reached past him and helped tug Sam up. Tommy glanced back, and there was Puffy - looking tired as hell and with a grim kind of smile as she noticed Tommy’s surprise.

“Good of you to join the party,” she said.

“Yeah. You look like shit,” Tommy replied. They pulled Sam up between the two of them and began walking.

Phil and Techno were fighting Bad, Ant, and Ponk. It seemed to be a pretty even battle - well, more than even, since it was Technoblade. Techno could and had fought against ten people at once and won, this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Except the vines around Bad and Ant were starting to twist off the ground and through the air, and Tommy really didn’t like the look of that.

Puffy snorted. “Wow. You’ve always had such a way with words,” she said, as Ranboo walked up to them. He seemed a little dazed - Tommy tried to look at his eyes, but it was difficult to see their color in the dark.

“I can help with this,” Ranboo said. “Puffy, you should go help Tubbo. He… he deserves somebody watching his back, for this fight. Even if he looks like he’s doing alright.”

“Ok. Yeah, I - I’d agree. You kids need more people looking out for you. Techno ’n Phil will handle themselves for the time being.” Puffy transferring Sam to Ranboo - which was a little awkward, given Ranboo’s height, but they made it work. Then she jogged back to the Tubbo and Dream fight - Dream had been knocked to the ground and was breathing heavily, and Tubbo was saying something quietly to him. Tommy was intensely curious as to what they were saying - but Sam had to come first, right now.

If Sam was even still alive. Tommy couldn’t tell - he really, desperately hoped so.

They staggered into the Church and Ranboo kicked the door shut behind them, cutting off the sound and sight of the fighting.

“How do you… where do you think - ?”

“The pool. The holy water, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, right - “

Tommy waded into the pool and eased Sam’s way down, as Ranboo carefully passed him over. It was brighter in here - Ranboo’s eyes were normal.

Sam groaned. Tommy’s breath caught, and a tiny, hopeful smile started on Ranboo’s face.

“I’ve got to get going,” he said, crouching to put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “If I’m watching Tubbo, then Puffy can help Techno and Phil - “

“Yeah, but - hey. Ranboo. You - are you good? Like, around Dream?” Sam was stirring, and there was a slight hissing noise as some of his wounds hit the water. Tommy held on to him and wanted nothing more than to let Ranboo walk out the door, but this had to be said. For Tubbo’s sake, for Ranboo’s sake -

Ranboo looked confused. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your eyes were - I dunno. You just looked weird, earlier. And Dream seemed kinda pissed about the map.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I uh… I was kind of blanking out during that conversation, I’m gonna be honest with you. But I’m sure it’ll be alright. It can wait, at the very least. Bigger things going on right now.”

“I sure hope so,” Tommy muttered as Ranboo strode for the door.

But then Sam wheezed, “Tommy?” And the thought of all that quite went out of Tommy’s mind.

-

Sam had no idea what was going on. His vision was still blurred, but the world was shades of white and soft warm light where it’d been red and darkness before. Tommy was there; Sam could hear his voice. He was talking to somebody. There was the sound of the door.

He tried to push himself up, but realized he was partially submerged in a pool of water as his hands slipped. “Tommy?”

“Sam! Sam. Hey, hey big man. Hey,” Tommy hurried to support Sam. “Maybe hold on for a second. You got - you got pretty banged up. Don’t look too good. Just let me - let me help. I have this,” he added, slinging his pack to the side of the pool and scrabbling around in it.

“How’d I get here? What’s… what happened? Where’d my legs go?” Sam couldn’t feel them. He tried looking down, into the water, but it reflected strangely and was difficult to see through.

“Puffy - what d’you mean - “ Tommy looked down and gasped, flinching slightly away. “Oh, shit. Sam.”

“What?” Sam raised his hand out of the water, and a trail of sediment slipped from it, like sand, like grit. There were great chunks of flesh missing - he could make out that much. He was starting to feel that much. “Oh. Ow.”

The world was hazy. He was dizzy. Was he dizzy? He let his head tip back against the edge of the pool. “Well this sucks.”

“You’re fucking dissolving, holy hell - what did they do to you? I’m going to fucking kill them, oh my God. I’m going to murder them so fucking bad, once we - once we get you out of here. I’ll get goddamn Techno to help, if he wants to start throwing around apologies and shit - ” He’d turned away and started digging through his bag in earnest.

“Techno apologized? That’s nice,” Sam said absently. Closing his eyes hadn’t helped with the feeling of dizziness, but it helped somewhat with the pain - a kind of, if I-don’t-see-it-it-isn’t-happening situation. He could just let it all go and slip away. That felt very easy.

“It’s not fucking nice, it’s weird - Sam. Sam, open your eyes. Hey, I’ve - I’ve got this shit for you. Open your eyes and eat it.” Tommy sounded strange - his voice broke on the last few words.

Sam obliged and opened his eyes, squinting to make out the strange, glowing object in Tommy’s hands. Then his eyebrows flew up. “Tommy, no, you should keep that for yourself. I’m - I’ve still got three lives left. Don’t waste something like an enchanted golden apple on me - just go back to the arctic, and I’ll have respawned by the time you get there. It’ll be alright. You need it more, in case anything happens.”

“You - don’t fucking start with me, genius.” Tommy said, and his voice was thick with tears. As Sam watched one of them spilled over and dripped into the pool. Tommy couldn’t wipe it away, one hand occupied with supporting Sam and the other clutching the apple - Sam tried to, raising a trembling hand to Tommy’s face, but realized a bit too late that he was soaking wet and would help nothing. Tommy sniffed and laughed and leaned into it all the same, smiling a little helplessly.

“It’ll be alright,” Sam repeated, and the smile morphed into a scowl.

“You’re not fucking dying. I’m not watching another friend die in front of me. I’m not.” Tommy rummaged through his bag once more, producing a knife from it. He cut off a slice of the apple; it made a strange, wholly inorganic noise as it was cut, almost like the blade was slicing through packed sand. Purple sparkles spilled out, the magic of the enchantments being disturbed as they were split, and the golden flesh glowed faintly where it was cut.

Tommy offered the slice to Sam. “There. It’ll go bad soon - now take it.”

Sam stared at him. “You could still eat it, use the extra protection - “

“You’ll be better protection for me, alive, rather than if you were fucking dead, or respawning somewhere fucking ages away. Eat!”

“Sound like Phil,” Sam muttered, taking the golden apple slice. It was warm, and even the weight of it seemed to make his cold, shaky hand just a bit stronger, more stable.

Tommy snorted and ran an anxious hand through his mop of hair. It caught and tangled, strands sticking to his wet hand. They’d have to cut it soon, Sam thought absently, then caught himself. They’d have to cut it soon if they got out of this mess.

“I should hope so; only known the man for over half my life,” Tommy replied, and watched as Sam took a hesitant, reluctant bite. The skin of the apple was strange as well - cold like metal, then warm like - like magic.

And it tasted like an apple.

It tasted like an apple if you distilled it down to the core experience of an apple - the crispness, the sweetness, the hint of sour towards the end. It was unlike an apple with its gritty texture on his tongue, against his teeth. It was unlike an apple in how chewing it felt like a shot of adrenaline to the system.

He inhaled deeply, trying to brace himself against the soaring sensation, and he smelled apple as well. All he’d been able to smell since being pulled from the Egg was his own rotten flesh; this was a welcome change.

Tommy was watching him intently, when Sam opened his eyes again. “How is it?”

“Have you not eaten one of these before?”

“Obviously not.”

“Why don’t you…” Sam trailed off, as Tommy was already offering him another slice.

“Don’t even think about it, big man. Keep going.”

Sam accepted the offering. “It’s like a punch to the gut. But in a good way.”

“That makes no sense,” Tommy said, a laugh lurking under his words. Sam cracked a smile at him.

“Well, I’m like, half-dead, so my brain’s not super good right now. Try it yourself if you want a better explanation.”

Tommy grimaced, and Sam ate the next slice.

“You’ve stopped dissolving,” Tommy said abruptly as he chewed, and Sam glanced down. His legs were gone; that same kind of sediment rested at the bottom of the pool.  He observed it with some remove; it was as if all of this, from the moment he’d fallen down the chimney, had happened to a different person. Even the moment that was confronting him now.

“So I have,” he said, and as they both looked, a shimmering field of purple, then boiling gold, appeared around the ragged stumps of his calves. It bubbled under the water as Sam swallowed his bite of apple.

“Looks kinda fucked up,” Tommy said, and Sam shrugged.

“Not dissolving anymore. Still alive. I can see again - that’s pretty neat.”

“Lemme see your eyes.”

Sam turned to Tommy and leaned in obligingly. Tommy frowned.

“There’s like… a gold ring around your - what’s it called? The colored part. There’s a name for it.”

“The iris.”

“Yeah, that. Instead of black there’s some gold now, around your iris. Pretty cool. Better than the white or red or green or whatever the hell. Hope it doesn’t stick, though.”

Sam shrugged. Tommy passed him the remainder of the apple, seemingly satisfied with his ability to eat it now - and Sam hesitated once more, once more, because it really felt so awful to be taking such a treasure out of a child’s hands for something so inconsequential as his own life. And Tommy rolled his eyes once more, gestured once more, something between a smile and a scowl lightening the renewed darkness in his eyes.

With that Sam took a bite, and the gold began pooling in the gaping wounds on his arms. He could feel a warmth spreading through his chest. “I don’t think it would be so bad. Gold’s pretty cool - and I think the splotches would look pretty neat, actually.”

“Mm.” Tommy glanced out the window. “Sam, I really don’t wanna go right now, because I am really, so so glad that you’re back and not dead and everything - and I missed you so goddamn much big man, really, I had to talk with Techno and Philza and it was just awful - but I think I have to go poke my head outside. Make sure that the right people won their fights and all that. ‘Cause I really don’t wanna step out of here and have - have Dream just standing there, or the Eggpire or anything. That would rather suck.”

Sam paused. “Yes, it rather would. So - you haven’t really told me what happened leading up to us being here,” he said, a kind of forced evenness to his tone.

Tommy cringed and laughed. “Yeah! We’ll, uh, get to that. Just. In a second,” he pulled himself from the pool and, water pouring from his lower half, sloshed across the floor of Church Prime and yanked the door open.

There was somebody already standing just outside it, hand raised as if they’d been reaching for the handle. 

-

It was Tubbo, and Tommy had been so relieved to have Sam blink back at him with something like recognition in his eyes, but the remaining tension in his chest finally, fully uncoiled at the sight of his friend beaming and whole.

Still a ghost, but, well - an intact ghost.

Tubbo was covered in blood - none of it his. (Tommy didn’t even know if ghosts could bleed.) It coated his clothes and matted his hair into spikes - some dried, some not, so when he smiled there was a rivulet of blood that dripped down onto his stark white teeth. Tubbo didn’t seem to notice, nor care. He looked jubilant. His equivalent to Dream’s axe dangled carelessly from his hand - it, too, was dripping blood. Ranboo hovered behind him, incongruously tall and meek to Tubbo’s short and warlike figure.

“I killed Dream,” Tubbo said, axe dissolving from his hand and into the wind, and Tommy couldn't resist the savage, matching grin that dawned across his own face in reply.

Chapter Text

Tubbo hadn’t meant to leave for as long as he did.

He’d needed a cool-down, sure, a chance to walk away and get his thoughts recollected, but he hadn’t meant to miss all the action. That’s where he’d gone wrong in only telling Tommy before vanishing, he supposed; should’ve told Ranboo as well. Ranboo probably thought he was staying away on purpose, the numpty. But no.

Now he just needed Technoblade to draw his freaking weapon.

It hadn’t been so bad before the group of them had taken off for the SMP proper. Tubbo had drifted, half-inside the plane of existence and half-out, listening with a vague kind of curiosity to the tension between Ranboo and Tommy. They were very similar kind of people. Very dissimilar too. They were the kind of people, Tubbo thought, that would either become best friends right away or jump at each other’s throats. They were both his best friends, as well; Tubbo thought that maybe had something to do with it, but everything was so blurry while he was phased out, that he let his thoughts dissipate there.

There was a plane beyond this one, beyond “the real world” or “the world of the living” or whatever you wanted to call it. Tubbo could feel other spirits past the barrier between worlds, one of which he was fairly certain was Wilbur - and if Wilbur was there then Schlatt probably was as well. Tubbo had no interest in joining them - not quite yet, if ever.

No, he had his things to do here, and once he was done with them the absolute last thing he wanted was to stay wrapped up in this shit, this drama, for all eternity. All he’d wanted in life was to just… well, he’d wanted everybody to be happy primarily, before everything had gotten so complicated. Then, once the world had settled on his shoulders and everybody blamed him for putting it there, all he’d wanted to do was to set everything down and just - just walk away. Leave it all behind. Just say, fuck ‘em, and let everybody sort out their own messes. Stop giving a shit about who did what and went where, and just - just enjoy living again. Find new lands, build a more peaceful society. The way that things were meant to be, when they’d first arrived here.

He probably would’ve, at least, grabbed Tommy before leaving - despite everything that’d happened between them prior to Tubbo's death. Now, were he somehow given the chance, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d grab Ranboo instead. If only because of how the world seemed to dog at Tommy’s heels, and Tubbo was tired of getting caught up in the aftermath.

He idly wondered if Tommy could tell that, somehow - could sense the shift in dynamic. He wondered if Tommy cared, or would’ve cared, or whatever the hell. A million different possibilities of what his life could’ve been and afterlife could still be stretched out before him, and he had limitless time to consider them, and if he did he would go well and truly crazy.

And he couldn’t afford to lose his grip now, on his tether to the living or his sanity, because they still needed him. And he still had justice, to be the arbiter of.

So instead of thinking about any of these things, he tried very hard to stick around Technoblade as he moved through the world, a kind of incorporeal haze. It was times like these that he hated the limitations of death.

Hated it even more, in fact, as the tension rose, as his friends crept through the veritable belly of the beast, and there was just nothing he could do but watch anxiously. Kick at Technoblade with a ghostly foot as he sensed Dream draw near, and scream silently in frustration as the man didn’t so much as flinch. Hang in the air, breath he didn’t need to take catching in lungs that were really more a concept, at this point, as the whole conflict came to a head.

He could feel Sam beginning to become untethered, as well - could feel his soul beginning to come loose. That was perhaps the worst thing about death he’d discovered so far - it was terrible enough to see his friends die, he didn’t want to feel it as well.

And then -

Then with the slightest shift of his finger, Technoblade opened the door for Tubbo to come back. Because of course Techno remembered Tubbo, and thought to use him in a situation like this. For all that Tubbo had his vendetta against Techno, for all the history between them - of course it wasn’t Tommy or Ranboo but the warrior, the tactician, that remembered the weapon they had just a flick away. Tubbo had never been so grateful for the man’s cold calculation, nor felt so in line with his way of thinking.

“Oh, fuck yeah, finally!” he exclaimed as he burst from the void and into existence once more. He was mere meters away from Dream and moving faster than humanly possible - there wasn’t much the man could do. Tubbo shoved his crossbow up under Dream’s mask, bared his teeth in a wide, wild grin as he said “Go to hell,” and pulled the trigger.

At such a close range he wasn’t sure if the arrow would be able to do maximum damage - terminal velocity and momentum and the like to take into account, after all - but an arrow to the face would be harmful in any context. Blood sprayed out from under the mask, dripping down Dream’s neck and getting on Tubbo’s arms. Dream shoved Tubbo away, grabbing at his face and staggering back. Tubbo let him, hovering slightly in the air above the steps so that Dream wouldn’t have the height advantage, and let the crossbow drop from his hand. It dissolved before it even hit the steps, and an axe formed in its place.

There was shouting behind him. He didn’t particularly care about it. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, blood pounding in his ears - or, at least, his soul was mimicking the sensation. So long he’d been waiting for this, and it was finally here, and Dream was - Dream was fucking toast.

His smile grew so that the corners of his mouth hurt. It felt like the expression was splitting his face - who knows, being dead, it might very well have been.

There was a sick noise, and Dream yanked the arrow out from wherever in his face it had been lodged, tossing it to the side and spitting blood onto the ground. He held the mask away as he did this - when he let it drop back into place, the pristine white was smeared with red.

The crack that Tommy and Tubbo had left in it was still there. That was curious - Tubbo had figured that the man had plenty of replacements, or would’ve bothered to repair it, given how much the mask seemed to mean to him. But then, who could fathom the mind of Dream. Tubbo gave the axe an experimental twirl as Dream got to his feet.

“What, not going to press your advantage?” Dream asked hoarsely, unsheathing his own.

“Nah. That would end things too quickly, wouldn’t it? I want to watch you realize that you’re losing, and that there’s nothing you can do about it. I’ve waited ages for this moment, Dream.”

“You couldn’t beat me the other day, at Sam’s place. What makes you think you can beat me now?”

“You pearled away,” Tubbo complained. “That hardly counts. Besides, I’m stronger now than I was then. I get stronger every day my death goes unavenged.”

“That so? Guess I’m going to have to make killing you for good a priority after this.”

“You really won’t have to bother - because I’ll be taking one of your lives here, and then you won’t matter to me anymore.”

“We’ll see.”

Dream surged forward suddenly, axe flashing towards Tubbo’s head, but Tubbo just laughed and spun in the air, floating back and away. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Dream. Already killed me once, right? I’ve learned a bit since then – have you?”

Tubbo quit flying and dropped, right on top of Dream, using the momentum to add force to an overhanded blow. Dream blocked it with his shield, but the axe got lodged in the wood - Dream wrenched the shield and axe away, pulling it from Tubbo’s hands, and used Tubbo’s newfound lack of a weapon to grant himself a small reprieve.

Dream collapsed back onto the steps. The hunter was breathing heavily - blood was still leaking out from under his mask. Maybe Tubbo got his eye or something, earlier. That would explain why Dream was seeming to struggle.

Tubbo shrugged and the axe dissolved, reforming in his hands. He laughed again as Dream seemed to sag. “Really, Dream. Hey, if you give up now, I’ll make it quick - isn’t that what you told me? Or told Tommy, rather, back in the Vault. If you give up now, I’ll make it painless. No hard feelings, really.”

He flipped his axe again. Blood flicked off the blade of it - he must’ve caught Dream after all, in the midst of one of those exchanges. “You know, before, I was real burnt up about how you made even the fact of how painful my death would be, into something that was still all about Tommy. But I’ve gotten over it now. I’m just looking for, ah, peace. I forgive you, you know. I get that it’s really easy to focus on Tommy - it’s in his nature. So I forgive you for overlooking me, in all of this. I get that it’s an easy thing to do.”

Dream didn’t say anything. The silence stretched out between them, punctuated only by the rattle of his breathing and the distant noise of battle.

“Tubbo? Everything ok over here? Ranboo told me to come help, but you… seem to have things under control,” said a voice from behind him, and Tubbo floated up once more, flipping over so that he was upside down. It was Captain Puffy - she looked awful, clothes ripped in place and scratches all up and down her arms. She looked tired as hell, too - right, she’d been the one who brought Sam here. Everything that had happened pre-materialization was still fuzzy in Tubbo’s memory.

“Oh, hey Puffy,” he said, senses still trained on Dream, who was wiping more blood off his face behind him. “Yeah, no, I’m good. You should, uh - “ he glanced behind her, at Phil and Techno’s two-man stand against what seemed to be vines from hell itself. “Maybe go help them?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, but Ranboo said something about, like, emotional support. So, again - you alright? Sure you want to be doing this, and everything? I can take over, if you need me to - whatever you need me to do, really. I’m here for you.”

“What? Yes, I’m sure that - listen, Ranboo’s nice and all, but he’s, uh - when he’s been brutally murdered multiple times he can talk. Alright? This is my, uh - “ he trailed off as he looked for the word.

“Catharsis?” Puffy guessed.

Tubbo snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That one. I’m catharsis-izing myself. So I’m all good. Carry on.”

“Yeah, um. Ok.” Puffy glanced at Dream behind Tubbo, a complicated series of emotions flickering across her face - but then she set her jaw, hefted her sword, and strode towards the other fight.

Tubbo hurled the axe upward, flipped back over, and landed lightly on his feet. He caught the axe again a second later, with a smug kind of grin at a trick well-executed.

“Well, Dream, what will it be?” He asked jauntily. “Give up now, or the long, drawn-out way of dying? I can say from experience that the quick method is very much preferable - being something of a connoisseur of dying, myself.”

Dream still didn’t reply, but slowly, looking to be in great pain, got to his feet again. Tubbo’s smile flickered.

“I gotta say, big man, you’re not making this much fun. I was looking forward to this intense, epic fight - well, whatever. Not doing this for fun, I guess, so doesn’t really matter. Have at you and all that,” he added, lunging forward once more.

And from that point forward, it really wasn’t a fair fight. Tubbo was barely trying - it was practically child’s play to dodge Dream’s sloppy swings, small and agile and possessed of the ability to fly as he was. He wasn’t even sure if he had to dodge - hadn’t been hurt before as a ghost. But still, now wasn’t the time to experiment, so dodge he did. And as for his own hits on Dream - the man was still able to block, so Tubbo couldn’t just get a lucky swing in and take his opponent out for good, but he did still manage to land several debilitating blows on the places Dream wasn’t quick enough to block.

He was so caught up in the fight that he didn’t notice Ranboo behind him, until the hybrid said quietly, “Tubbo?”

Tubbo paused. His axe was buried once more in Dream’s shield - he’d forgotten himself and had been trying to yank it out. He disengaged carelessly. Dream was on the ground, now - Tubbo was trying to get in the finishing blow, but the cockroach just wouldn’t die.

“Ranboo,” he replied neutrally. There was blood on his hands - he wiped it off on his jerkin, but there was blood there too, and that just smeared it around. Ranboo watched his movements, looking pale and drawn.

“I, uh, asked Puffy to check on you. I guess that she didn’t - “

“I sent her away. This is between me and Dream. Nobody else needs to get involved - except maybe Tommy, but he’s busy right now, you know.”

“Yeah, uh, Sam’s in pretty bad shape, but Tommy’s got him. Are you sure this is what you want to do? With Dream? You don’t have to - we’ve talked about this - “

“Yeah, we have, and you know my answer. Look, Ranboo, just - just go away. I’ll come find you after all of this - I’ve still got Technoblade to go, so you don’t have to worry about me dying for real or anything quite yet. It’ll be alright. Just - just go back inside Church Prime or something, and I’ll come find you afterwards.”

“No, I’m not just gonna - “ Ranboo cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I’m not leaving you, Tubbo.”

“You’ve gotta! This isn’t - it doesn’t concern you.”

“Well - “ Ranboo started.

Then Dream stirred. “Ranboo,” he croaked, and the hybrid froze. Tubbo turned.

Dream had propped himself up and was rubbing under his mask again. Finally he just pulled it aside. Tubbo was right - the arrow had indeed pierced Dream’s eye. A lucky shot. It had already healed over, with a hazy grey indicating Dream could no longer see out of his. Dream must’ve had a regeneration potion or golden apple before engaging them all - typical, for the man to be so prepared. Even now, a fizz of magic appeared on Dream’s leg, and one of the axe cuts sealed over. Tubbo would have to finish him quickly.

“Ranboo,” Dream said again. “I thought we were friends.”

“W-we…” Ranboo stuttered, and grimaced, as if in pain. “We aren’t… Tubbo’s my friend. I’m here for him. You killed him first.”

“Well, sure. But - how does the saying go? Eye for an eye?” Dream asked, with bitter, almost obscene humor as he indicated his own. “Since when did you support this kind of revenge?”

“I don’t. But it’s - it’s not my, it’s not my revenge. It’s Tubbo’s. If I stopped him now, then I would be - it’s not my fight to get involved in.”

“Sounds like a cheap excuse to me. Sounds like you’re just going to stand there and watch Tubbo kill me and not life a finger to stop him - and like you’ll regret it, like you regret everything else. Do you wanna keep being a person who regrets, Ranboo? Or do you wanna finally do something for once?”

“I…” Ranboo started, looking more unsure than ever. Dream didn’t wait for him to find his words.

“Just stop Tubbo. You can do it, you know you can - he won’t hurt you. Not if he’s really your friend.”

Ranboo’s eyes looked funny.

Tubbo found that he was sick of this shit.

“That’s nice,” he said, and hefted his axe. “Whatever you two have going on - cool. I don’t particularly care, and I’m not letting anybody take this moment from me. Not anymore.”

“Ranboo, turn away if you want,” he added, walking towards Dream. “Or don’t. I don’t care.”

“Wait,” Dream said, raising one hand as if to forestall him, raising his shield with the other. Tubbo brutally kicked it away, stepping on Dream’s arm to prevent him from lifting it again, and leaned in over the man.

“Nope,” Tubbo replied, and raised his axe one last time, and let it fall, putting all his strength into the downswing.

Then again, and again, and - again one last time, even as Dream’s body had quit twitching - just to be sure.

[ Dream was slain by Tubbo using Nightmare. ]

-

Blood was everywhere - on the Prime Path, on his axe, on his face and clothes. He was breathing heavily. The thought of how irrational that was snapped his ghost-body back to normal. With a sigh, he wrenched the axe out of Dream’s corpse, taking a step back.

He didn’t feel much different. He thought he would. Thought maybe the heavens would part and a chorus of angels would sound, or something. He’d won, hadn’t he? Two-thirds of his crusade complete.

Well - he did feel a bit lighter. Like maybe some of that weight had slipped off his shoulders - not so far to go, now.

The conclusion of his story was just around the corner.

He turned to Ranboo, who had in fact taken several steps back, but was watching, hadn’t looked away. Tubbo couldn’t figure out his expression - but there was also blood dripping into his eyes, so that didn’t help. He wiped it away with some exasperation.

“So that’s done,” Ranboo said after a minute. Tubbo looked over at the other fight, which seemed to have wound down as well. Tubbo didn’t see any bodies, just great big vines - which Technoblade was still tramping through, severing the ones that still twitched. Phil had produced TNT from somewhere and was cheerfully exploding the remains. Puffy was crouched over what looked to be Ponk - who was just barely sitting up, but seemed to be conscious and talking.

“Yeah - for now, I guess. You see where Bad and Antfrost got off to?”

“They made a run for it just as I came back outside. It was when the realized that you were going to beat Dream, I think - they kept looking over here just before they left.”

“So they’re still somewhere around. And Dream’ll be respawning soon enough, probably with revenge in mind. And I’ve got Technoblade to kill.”

Ranboo was watching him intently. “Not right now, though, right? You said - “

“I know what I said, and yeah, I’ll leave it until we get back to the arctic or something. Don’t worry about it.”

“You worry me constantly,” Ranboo replied dryly, but came to stand at Tubbo’s side, so he didn’t seem to be too upset about everything. Tubbo relaxed a little. He was - he’d been worried Ranboo would be angry with him, for the way he’d handled everything. For killing Dream.

“Best go tell Tommy the good news,” he said, stretching with a smile. Ranboo glanced his way.

“Yeah. And check on Sam, too.”

“Mm,” Tubbo hummed in reply.

And they told Tommy, and Tommy laughed and hugged Tubbo, blood and all - and Sam was alive and whole, though splotched with gold and strange new legs.

And things were good. Victory was sweet, the moment wonderful -

- up until they heard a roar on the horizon, and some great force shook the earth.

Chapter Text

In the wake of the quaking and roaring, the night settled into a still, dead sort of silence. Sam limped out the doors of Church Prime, with Tommy acting as a kind of crutch when he realized what Sam was doing.

Then the slithering began.

It was the smaller vines first, crawling back from the places their questioning tendrils had ventured to - the relative scouts of the blood vines. Then the larger ones, the veritable trunks, began moving and twitching. It was difficult to see the more minute movements, this all happening beyond the borders of the holy lands and in the dark as it was -  but still, it was difficult not to notice how one such trunk falling off a tower reflected the moonlight in the moment of its descent, or the loud, distant thump it made as it collided with the ground.

“That doesn’t seem good,” Techno said, as he and Phil sidled up to where the rest of them were standing. Puffy and Ponk still hadn’t moved - Sam didn’t know if Ponk could move.

It made his heart hurt. There was a vague memory that tried to surface as he looked at them, one that had been drowned out in red and blood. That, too, hurt - and he was distracted as the others kept talking.

“No, it doesn’t,” Phil said with a half-laugh. “Though I’m glad the vines are - are leaving, I doubt that they’ve just given up after all of this. Something’s surely up with the Egg.”

“No shit,” Tommy responded acerbically. “Only question is what we’re going to do about it.”

“Since you seem to have all the answers, then surely you can figure that out too,” Phil rolled his eyes, and Tommy scoffed.

“Tommy,” Sam said, before the kid could really gear up.

Tommy cut himself off and looked at Sam. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to go over and see how Puffy and Ponk are doing. You don’t have to come with me - I’ve got it. Stay here and talk this out with them. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Oh - you sure? I don’t really… we just got you back.”

“It’s only a few feet away, Tommy,” Sam said with some humor. “And still in the Holy Lands. If I managed to get myself killed anyways, I’d kinda deserve it.”

“Oh. Well, alright.” Tommy slid out from under Sam’s arm, still bracing him slightly as Sam adjusted to standing under his own power again. Then, with a wave to the group that was watching him with a spectrum of anxiety and skepticism, Sam limped over to the other pair.

Puffy was talking quietly. Ponk was responding occasionally with pained noises.

“ - and I told you this was why we had to get away, Ponk. Look - they’re already getting started with it. Techno and Phil must’ve scared them - or it’s Dream, I don’t know. We can’t stick around here, not with you as you are.”

“We can’t just run away when it gets bad, Puffy - “

“What’re you gonna do? Huh? You can’t even move!”

“Don’t yell, it hurts.”

“Oh, come on.”

Puffy looked up as Sam got closer, and Ponk turned his head slightly. A smile twitched across his lips.

“Well, look who survived,” he croaked. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’re in better condition than I am.”

“Tommy practically shoved an enchanted golden apple down my throat, so if I was in any worse condition, I woulda had to be dead to start,” Sam replied dryly. He took a seat in the grass next to them.

“Seemed pretty dead, to be honest,” Puffy snorted. Then she raised an eyebrow. “An enchanted golden apple, though? And here you were bitching about how none of them really seemed to care,” she nudged Ponk, who flapped a hand at her.

“I stand by that. Did you see Technoblade’s face when we went to ask for help? Man could’ve been talking about his laundry.”

“Yeah, well, you were super Egg-brainwashed at the time, so it’s not like you can talk.”

“Are you not anymore?” Sam asked. Then he thought about it for a second. “I mean, I guess that Bad and Ant did leave you here. That’s what happened, right? They left you here during the fight? I was… you know, otherwise occupied.”

Puffy hummed. “Mm, more or less. The Eggpire were piloting Ponk around like a puppet, you know, making him fight for them. I think they thought he must’ve died - Techno got a pretty nasty hit on you, right? Sliced you across the chest. I saw that just as I came out of Chruch Prime.”

“Yeah, he did. Then he splashed me with a health potion while Phil took the both of them on. Don’t know why he’d do something like that, considering how I was really trying to kill him.” Ponk said, taking the hand that he’d flapped at Puffy and draping it across his eyes. He still didn’t have his mask or anything, and this was the closest to the ‘real Ponk’ that Sam had seen in a long time.

Puffy flicked Ponk lightly and carefully. “He did it because he’s nice, you idiot. And he realized that you were under mind control, I’m sure, and didn’t want to take a life because of something you couldn’t control.”

Ponk made a noise that was half-grumble, half-assent. Sam grinned and patted him on the head. Ponk’s stubbly white hair was sharp and sticky against his hand - tacky with blood.

“In any case, yeah. We think that since Ant and Bad didn’t realize he was dead, they haven’t bothered keeping up the - the whatever it was. That, or they just don’t care anymore.” Puffy gestured out into the darkness, towards the slithering they could all still hear. “Obviously, they have something else going on.”

“Right. Well, I’m glad that you’re… back,” Sam said to Ponk. Ponk let his hand drop away and glanced up at Sam.

“I’m glad that you’re back, too. And alive and all.”

Sam grinned. “Been a while since we had to be grateful not to be dead, huh?”

Ponk rolled his eyes. “You’re not funny.”

Puffy clapped her hands together and interrupted before they could carry on. Then she winced, and Sam realized that she still had open wounds running up her arms. “In any case,” she began, before he could say anything, “I think I’m going to take Ponk and get out of here. You’re more than welcome to join us, obviously, but we’ll be pretty useless in any fight that’s coming up. And I would be pretty shocked if there isn’t another fight, at this point. “

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, leaning back on his hands. “I’d be pretty shocked too.”

“So - are you coming, then?” Ponk asked. He made the effort to sit up slightly, propping himself up on trembling elbows and giving Sam a surprisingly piercing look.

Sam grimaced and ran a hand through his own hair. “I - I can’t. I gotta stick around here. Make sure Tommy’s alright - no way all of them are leaving while all of this is happening. You know the Eggpire will go after Tommy, Techno, Phil, whoever. Even if you guys can get away for now.”

Ponk glanced over him skeptically. “You’d be useless as well. Enchanted golden apple or no, you’re not used to it. You could barely get over here.”

“What would you know about that? You were laid out in the grass,” Puffy cut in exasperatedly.

“I could still see him limping,” Ponk protested, and Sam laughed again.

“Even if I’m useless,” he said, over the sound of them squabbling. “I’ll figure it out. I can’t just leave them behind after they went to all this effort to rescue me.”

“I’d argue that we went to more effort,” Ponk said, and Puffy didn’t actually look like she disagreed with him, this time. They both kind of stared him down.

He opened his mouth to respond, and hesitated. “Right, but if I went with you - you guys are just gonna get away as fast as you can, right? Tommy and them, I think, are actually gearing up to fight this thing.”

“Right,” Ponk deflated, and Puffy glanced away, back at the group clustered outside of Church Prime. They were starting to break up - Ranboo moving over to Techno and Philza, Tubbo drifting off by himself, Tommy glancing anxiously at their little group out on the grass.

“Right,” Puffy repeated.

Then she looked back at him. “Well, we’ll have to be taking off soon - as soon as Ponk can, you know, get on his feet again. Think we’ll be going to Kinoko Kingdom - you know, where Karl, George, and Sapnap ran off to? And see if they’ll take us in for a while. If you go looking for us, look for us there.”

“I will,” Sam said. Tommy began moving towards them. He got to his feet again.

“Hey - be safe,” Ponk said, somewhat desperately. Sam looked down at him, and crouched again.

“I will,” he said with a smile, and squeezed Ponk’s shoulder. Ponk did some quick maneuvering to grip Sam’s hand back, looking not at all reassured.

But - there was the rest of the world to attend too. Sam pulled away, and Ponk let go.

Sam made a kind of reassuring grimace at Puffy, who made the same kind of grimace in turn. And with that, he walked away and left them to sort out their own futures. It was as difficult as anything he’d ever done, and somehow, simultaneously, easy as hell.

He hoped they’d be ok.

-

Ranboo, Techno, and Philza were already gone by the time that Sam rejoined the group, and Tubbo was hovering impatiently as Tommy talked to him.

“I’m just saying, I don’t even really know if you need these - these bombs, but I do know that having you up our sleeve has worked out for us - “

“Yeah, the once, Tommy, but Dream’s not gonna fall for the same trick twice, nor are the Eggpire people, especially given whatever they’re up to - “

“I’m not saying they will, but you not even being here in the first place will certainly cut our chances if something does happen - “

“What’s up?” Sam asked, cutting through their squabbling.

“Tubbo wants to go back to Snowchester to grab some bombs he left there before dying. Thinks that they’ll be helpful if there’s a fight.”

“I already told you, Tommy, they’re not just bombs - they’re nukes.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“You don’t - “

“Helpful fighting who?” Sam asked. Tubbo turned to look at him, a little guardedly. Sam smiled. “Hi, by the way. Been a while.”

Tubbo relaxed and smiled back. It was unnerving to see the familiar expression on a ghost’s face - it’d been easier to separate this Tubbo from the living one he’d once been friends with when the boy had been soaked in blood and looking savage. Smiling and clean, he looked like his older self, which is what made it uncanny when he said, “Well, I can use them to obliterate the Egg and Eggpire and whatever from - from existence. But if not them - Techno, probably. It’s his time.”

“Right. ‘Cause you killed Dream, which leaves only Techno.”

“Yup.” Tubbo popped the ‘p’ and bobbed his head, and Tommy looked disturbed and uncertain.

Sam sighed and shelved the discussion.

“Well, as somebody who’s just encountered the Egg firsthand… yeah. Go get them. Get everything you can, in fact. It’s not going to be an easy fight. Where are the others going?”

Tubbo raised his eyebrows in surprise even as a small, victorious smile stole over his lips. He glanced to Tommy, who was scowling - but shrugged. “Ranboo’s taking them to some kind of hideyhole he carved into the side of the Egg room. Says that they can get a better look at whatever the Eggpire’s up to from there.”

Sam frowned. “The Egg will sense them. No way it doesn’t.”

“Well, we can run and stop them - but they do have invisibility potions, and Techno and Phil are the best for this sort of stuff,” Tommy said dubiously.

“Can’t really run,” Sam replied, gesturing at his legs. He was feeling slightly more steady on them - though sometimes the gold would catch some torchlight and flash up at him, and the feeling of utter wrongness would make him shudder. “Besides - yeah. We need to know what they’re up to, and they’re the best for the job. Just… wish I’d given them a bit more warning before they left. The Egg isn’t something to mess around with.”

“How was it?” Tubbo asked bluntly. “Puffy and Ponk said that it ate you, or something like that. Surely it was painful.”

“Tubbo,” Tommy scolded, shoving at him.

Tubbo went with the shove, raising his hands in a protestation of innocence. “What? I mean - surely it was. Is that, like, a bad thing to say? Are we all just supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“It did eat me,” Sam said, wry humor in his voice, and hiding the trembling in his hands by shoving them in his pockets. “And it was very, very awful. Would not recommend it. And if you hear anything trying to talk to you, in your head, just - just get the hell out of there, as quickly as you can. That’s what I have to say about it.”

“Right. Well I would’ve done that normally, but good to know,” Tubbo said, reflecting that same wry humor back at him, and Sam laughed. Then Tubbo looked between the two of them. “I’ll be going now, then. Be back as soon as I can.”

Tommy grunted and waved him off, still looking a little put out that Tubbo was leaving after all. Sam smiled and clasped the ghost on the arm briefly.

“Stay safe, aright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Same to you two - don’t get abducted again while I’m gone, alright?”

“I’ll try my best,” Sam replied dryly.

And with that, Tubbo sped away, darting up into the night and skimming over the hills, out of eyesight within seconds.

There was a beat of silence. The ground was still rumbling occasionally - all the vines had finally receded, off to their unknown final destination. Probably the Egg room, Sam thought absently.

Again, that niggling feeling of a memory buried in the haze of his time in the Egg. Bad and Ant talking about their plans? A third voice there - was that the Egg, or somebody else? Dream, maybe?

“Just the two of us again,” Tommy noted, and Sam exhaled with a small laugh.

“Yeah, ’s just the two of us again - like old times. So, what now? Are the others coming back here after their spying expedition?”

“Probably, I dunno. Staying here puts a big target on our back in any case, doesn’t it?”

“Right. Should we get moving, then? To where, I guess is the question.”

“There’s always my old place,” Tommy said, twisting his mouth at the thought. “Though it’s not super secure, nor out of the way.”

“Right.” Sam hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked on his heels a bit. “Or there’s the Prison.”

He shrugged in response to Tommy’s hurt, accusing glance. “It’s just the safest place nearby - safest for us, in any case. If you don’t want to go back, though, I understand.”

“I don’t. Would rather fight Dream than go back there again.”

“I can do that for you. Both of those things, actually,” a third voice said.

And there once more, with rumbling night at his back and apocalypse on the horizon, was Dream.

-

His clothes were ripped, armor different than what he’d worn for his fight with Tubbo. His mask was broken, a great chip taken out of it, and he had it shoved to the side - which was how Sam got his first look at his old friend’s face in a long while.

Dream was pale, and there was a manic gleam in his glassy eyes. His teeth were bared in a grin. There was a great scar stretching across the right side of his head, now - it looked recent.

“Finally. Fucking finally. I get just the two of you, with no - no others in the way. This is how it’s meant to be, hm? Let’s get going - back to the Prison with the two of you. Get moving.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but found that he couldn’t, too stunned by the dissonance between his mental image of Dream, from a long while ago, and the staggering madman in front of them now. Tommy glanced at him and replied in his stead.

“You didn’t take long to respawn. I thought you’d get up to some other kind of plot instead of coming right back - didn’t learn your lesson last time?” Tommy drew the enchanted diamond sword that somebody - presumably Techno - had lent him.

“Who’s to say I didn’t? Get up to a plot, that is - or learn my lesson, I guess. Your friends aren’t here anymore, are they? Nor is the Eggpire. Everything has been… sorted.” Dream’s hand hovered over his axe, but he then he went for a small satchel instead, which had been attached to his belt. From it he pulled multiple small bottles - some kind of splash potion.

“Well. Plot or no, we’re not going anywhere. The two of us are more than a match for you.” Tommy readied up.

“That so?” Dream’s roving eyes flicked over to Sam, and seemed to size the Warden up - but he didn’t say anything, just clinked the bottles in his hand together. “Here’s the thing, Tommy - I’m not gonna fight you. I’m not messing around anymore - no more chances. Y’know what these are?”

“Potions?”

“Instant damage pots. Strongest kind you can make. A few hits of these, and you’re dead. There’s no blocking it. Can’t run away fast enough. Armor doesn’t do anything - it’s true damage. Not even regeneration can be much help.” Again, that critical eye over Sam, and Sam realized that it wasn’t even a matter of Dream caring about Sam being dead or alive, merely evaluating the risk that Sam posed to Dream’s plans.

Sam sighed. The action felt out of place in the moment, but it just - even after it all, something about seeing Dream without his mask had left him hoping that perhaps his friend was still there, wrapped up in the mania, but redeemable.

He felt so tired.

“What’re you gonna do, Dream?” He asked. “What’s the plan here? Threaten Tommy’s last life to get him to go with you - to get me to let you into the Prison? Why?”

“You already know, Sam.”

“I don’t. I still really don’t. Just let us go - we’ll go far away and leave you alone, and you can deal with the Eggpire, and have the server back, all to yourself. Alone, just like you want.”

“I won’t be alone. I told you - once Tommy’s out the way, I can fix everything. It’ll be just how it was before! We’ll be a - a big happy family. I’ll go dig up George and them, I’ll snap Bad and Ant out of it, I’ll convince Callahan and Alyssa to come back  - we can rebuild everything. We can be a community again.”

“We had a community - just because you didn’t like the shape it took doesn’t mean you get to forcibly mold it back into the form you preferred. That’s not how people work - they make choices and you have to live with them.”

“But I really don’t! That’s the beauty of having power, Sam - I really don’t have to live with you guys’s choices. But you - you do have to live with mine. So,” again, he clinked the bottles together. “Do you need me to test one out on you, or are you going to get moving? Can’t guarantee that one of them won’t just kill you - don’t know how damaged you guys are to start with. Y’know, accidents happen and all - so I’d suggest you just cooperate.”

Tommy shifted, but before he could reply, there was another rumbling from the direction of where the Egg was housed, louder and longer-lasting than the previous.

Then, silhouetted against the moon - a long, slow moving tendril arced up, and back down to the earth.

A moment later came a thumping noise, like the footstep of a giant.

Dream looked back at it, and grinned a bit. Then he turned to them. “Honestly? You weren’t even wrong when you said the Prison was the safest place to be right now - even with me in it. Let’s go.”

-

Tommy wanted to fight back, Sam could tell, but before he could draw the sword Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

The kid stared back at him, confused. “We can’t just let him drag us back to the Prison,” he muttered.

“No more fighting,” Sam said quietly. “Not you for me. Not against him.”

Something like hurt flashed across Tommy’s face, followed by stubborn indignation. “You don’t get to tell me that,” he said. “Nobody gets to boss me around like that anymore. I’m doing what I want. I’m gonna - I can fight him.”

“I know,” Sam said, and Tommy’s shoulders slumped in confusion. “I won’t stop you, if that’s what you really want to do. But just… you saved me, today. Let me and figure this out on my own. Let me get us through this.”

Tommy bit his lip, glancing between Sam and Dream uncertainly. Then he quietly said, “Alright,” and unclasped the sword sheath from his belt. Looking at Dream, he said, “Alright,” again, louder, and held the sword out to his side.

“We’ll go with you,” he finished, and let the sword drop with a clatter to the grass.

“Like it was even a question,” Dream snorted, and walked over to them, putting all but one of the potions away and drawing his axe. He picked the sword up on the tip of his boot, balancing it and kicking it away once he reached them. “Lead the way then, Sam. I assume you can find your own Prison?”

Dream was barely a yard away. Sam felt a little dizzy - he saw Dream as the boy with the charisma and the charm to lead them all on with promises of a new world, saw Dream as a demon, cast in red and darkness, saw Dream as -

- as a broken man, clutching at straws with a smile pasted onto his face.

“Yeah. I know where it is,” he said, and his heart was heavy.

-

When a whale dies, its body sinks from its habitual warm and sunlit strata down into the depths of the ocean - almost as if birds lived their whole lives without ever landing, and only in death did they meet the earth. Bottom feeders, strange fish that live and die in the dark, who are built for such pressures that they’d explode if ever removed, dine on the whale carcasses. It’s called a whale fall, and it acts almost like a community feast - the whale gets picked apart until barely even bones remain, which then degrade, until nothing is left at all.

Sam found himself thinking about this as they crested the last ridge before the shore, and the ocean and Prison took up the horizon before them. He couldn’t really say why. He felt strange inside - like every moment was seen through glass, both crystal clear and utterly immutable. As if he couldn’t stop things from happening. As if this was how it was always meant to be, and he was just the hand of fate transforming destiny into reality. Maybe he felt like a whale, falling.

Dream was walking behind the pair of them, axe still steadily in hand. Sam stopped on the ridge, and Dream drew up next to him. Tommy still carried on a ways, not realizing they’d stopped, caught up in some thoughts of his own.

“Taking in the view?” Dream asked, staring out at the Prison. Its obsidian bulk, usually indiscernible at night, was lined in silver by the moonlight, which then spilled onto the water around. Snowchester was a vague blur on the horizon.

Sam turned to Dream. The mask was slipping down the side of Dream’s head. Dream shoved it back up and to the side, absently. So familiar a motion, so familiar a face, and yet the man at Sam’s side was not familiar at all. He sighed.

“Something like that,” Sam replied. “Just… been a while since I’ve been back here, is all. Well, not a while, but - feels like one. A lot has changed.”

“The Warden returns to his shell once more - as he ought to,” Dream mused, then grinned. “We haven’t talked about what I’ll do with you once Tommy’s all squared away.”

“Didn’t figure you’d let me live.”

“Probably not,” Dream said with any easy shrug. “Can’t keep you in the Prison - you built the damn thing! Who knows what kind of failsafes you’ve got in store. And I can’t exactly let you run around - you’d just try and break Tommy out again. But, ah, don’t tell him that, alright? He’d definitely stop being so cooperative, if he thought I was about to kill you.”

“If I meant to tell him, I would’ve just let him fight you,” Sam said dryly.

“Mm, right. Y’know, stop being so logical, Sam - it’s just like the old you. Lawful, predictable - trying to do what’s best for everyone and sacrificing himself to achieve it. Almost makes me feel bad about what I gotta do.”

Tommy had paused at the bottom of the steps, looking back at them as he noticed their absence. Sam waved a hand in acknowledgement and started walking again. “I get that,” he said, and wondered to himself as Dream stepped forward at his side, if he was really the whale at all.

Chapter Text

It was strange to go through the steps of opening up the portal with Tommy and Dream twin pillars of thrumming tension behind him. It was strange to have his back turned, listening intently for movement even as he tried to focus on the locks to Pandora’s Vault. The security system was a finicky thing - he hadn’t designed it with such a scenario in mind.

Yes, it was strange situation, overall.

His hands were still shaking, and his best attempts couldn’t stop them. It was an after-effect of the Egg, he thought - a mental aftershock, something that the Regeneration status couldn’t just magic away. He managed it, though. He made himself manage it, before Tommy’s restraint broke and the boy flung himself at Dream once more. The portal whooshed to life, there was a long moment as they all looked at each other.

Dream finally said, “Tommy, you first,” and Tommy scowled.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t trust Sam to not have activated some death trap, and if you’re going in first he’d say something to save you. We’ll come in after.”

Tommy looked at Sam, and Sam nodded. “No traps. We’ll see you in a second.” Tommy entered the swirling purple mist and dissolved.

There was some kind of roaring, back in town - a sound almost like an explosion, like a great destruction of things. Sam twitched at the noise of it - Dream did not, but instead watched Sam intently.

“So no traps then, after all,” he said after a moment. “I’m surprised at you. I thought you’d at least try. Something in the Prison, maybe?”

“What if I told you I was on your side, after all of this?” Sam tried wryly. Dream laughed.

“Yeah, uh huh. Let’s go.”

They popped through the portal and out into the Prison lobby. It was still in the initial stages of lighting up - he’d turned everything off as he left, put it in a kind of dormant, protective state in anticipation of not being back for a while. Tommy was standing there flexing his hands, bouncing on the tips of his toes, looking torn between poking about the lobby and surging back through the portal once more. He sagged when they emerged, choice taken from him by their arrival.

There was a bed in the corner of the room. Sam edged away from Dream, so that said bed was at his back. Dream looked over.

“Well? Get going, Warden. Undo all your failsafes, or whatever.”

“Who’s to say there’s failsafes?”

Dream tapped his foot. “C’mon Sam. The time for playing dumb was like, ten minutes ago. Ten days ago. We’re well past that.”

“And if I refuse to let you through the prison, from this point? You can’t make me. You can kill me, but - you need my cooperation to lock Tommy up. What if I say no?”

Dream said nothing for a moment, just looking in Sam’s direction, mask inscrutable as ever. Then he walked towards Sam, who braced.

“What, making your stand here? I thought you went too easily. What was the plan, hm? Get to more familiar terrain? Got something up your sleeve?” He got right up in Sam’s face. Sam didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Dream poked him in the chest. “Well? You were so chatty a second ago - now tell me. Why would you come all the way here and start resisting? Decided to not be so much of a coward?”

“Get away from him,” Tommy said. The kid’s face was pale. He seemed to be shaking - Sam couldn’t really tell from across the room. This was probably bringing up the worst kinds of memories for him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dream called over his shoulder. Turning back, he scoffed - then shoved Sam in the chest. Sam stumbled and fell back, knees hitting the bed and folding. He sprawled out, catching himself on his elbows, and kept a wary eye on Dream to see if any more attacks would be forthcoming.

There were none. Dream propped a hand on his hip.

“Or - are you just stalling? Seeing if you delay long enough, if one of your friends will rescue you? They’re not coming - I went to all this effort with the Eggpire just to make sure of that. Now get up and unlock the damn door.”

Sam leveraged himself off the bed.

Would it work? Would merely falling on it be enough? It had to be - it had to be. 

“No, not that,” Dream said, as Sam pushed himself up off the bed and made his way to the front desk. “I know you have an alternate route - your security tunnels, or whatever. A faster way through the prison, without all the lava and shit. We’ll be going through there.”

Sam looked at him. “I would never compromise the integrity of the Prison with such easy escape routes - “

“You would, if you were the only one who knew about it. But guess what Sam - you’re not some, some genius master of deception! I know you have them! Open it, or I swear to God - “ Tommy had moved closer to them. Dream’s hand shot out and grabbed Tommy by the hair, and his axe was drawn in a flash. Tommy cried out, then stilled as the blade was pressed to his throat. “I’m not fucking around - open the damn door!”

“Alright! Alright. I’m - I’ll,” Sam kicked open the ender chest in the corner and snatched his security pass. Eyeing Dream - and making eye contact with Tommy, who was still and seemed to know better than to fight against Dream’s grip - Sam walked to an otherwise unmarked wall, and tapped a sequence of bricks with the security pass. When he’d completed the sequence, they fell away into a pitch black tunnel - the same one he and Tommy had taken when they’d left here only a few days ago.

“That’s better.” Dream shoved Tommy forward, who stumbled - Sam caught him and steadied him. The boy’s skin was ice-cold and clammy, and he was trembling. Sam squeezed his arm in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Get moving.”

And so they did.

Sam could navigate these tunnels backwards, with his eyes closed - and given how they contained nary a single light source, he might as well have been. Now, though, he had Dream and Tommy with him, who had no such experience. Dream was clutching a torch. The urge to lead the group of them astray, to wander in these tunnels until Sam came up with a better plan, was strong - but he resisted it. Dream was more right than he knew, in that they had no time to be screwing around right now.

He led the group of them directly to the Vault.

Tommy inhaled sharply as the next wall fell away and they walked out into the control room. Dream glanced at him.

“Well, that’s better! Home sweet home, huh, Toms? Welcome back!” The nickname sounded all wrong in Dream’s saccharine, mocking tone. Tommy opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing. He looked like he was about to be sick.

Dream turned to Sam. Sam went to the wall of levers that served as controls for the room.

-

Tubbo was halfway across the bridge to Snowchester, which had fallen into neglect in his absence, when the first booming roar shattered the still night. The nature of the bridge was that it was meant to get people from one place to another very quickly, so he didn’t - couldn’t - stop. Once he’d emerged, though, he paused to glance back.

He couldn’t see much, back in town. If he squinted, it was like there were shadows blotting out the stars, here and there - but could that not be clouds? Smoke?

He hurried all the same.

Snowchester was a ghost town these days. He hadn’t come back after - well, after coming back, as it were. There was nothing to come back for. He had his weapons and his purpose. What good was sentiment? What good was downtime, a good night’s sleep, when you didn’t need it? He was trying to hasten himself off this mortal coil, not linger upon it. All the same, he felt a pang as he saw the darkened windows, the way the boards of the walkways had started to rot, the drifts of snow in front of long unused doors. It was almost fitting in a way - as he was a ghost, so was his town. Snowchester was one of his few accomplishments that was purely his, and to see it reduced to this once he’d died…

He shook it off.

The armory was still securely locked up, though the iron golem they’d left to guard it was gone. The room itself was thick with dust, air stale, seemingly long undisturbed. He wondered what had happened to Jack, who’d developed the nukes with him, while he’d been away.

He got his answer in the form of an unwanted encounter, once he’d remerged with nukes in tow.

-

There was no noise in the control room except for the crackle of lava and the sound of the levers, as Sam went through the sequence to unlock the room. Sam thought back to the first few times Dream had come to visit Tommy - what an idiot he’d been, to ever be complicit.

“Red, then yellow,” he said quietly, eyes trained on the levers.

“What?” Dream demanded, from somewhere behind Sam.

Sam turned to the two of them, sidling a bit forward, closer to Dream. He tried to appear as relaxed as one feasibly could, in a situation such as this. “Red, then yellow. Once you run through the initial activation sequence, those are the levers you need to pull to start the bridge, then drop the guardrail. Red, then yellow.”

He was looking at Dream, but hoped desperately that Tommy was listening and comprehending. Dream, for his part, scoffed.

“You say that as if I’m not going to just take that remote gadget. Your security pass or whatever, right? I’ll just use that.”

“The security pass resets every day. You’ll have to generate a new one - do you have any clue how to do that?”

Dream considered him, fingers tapping on the crossbow. “I’lll keep you around for a little bit after this, then. I guess. Don’t think you can leverage this into becoming the Warden again, though - no way in hell can you smooth-talk your way out of this.”

“I wouldn’t dare. But - red for the bridge, and yellow for the lava. That’s all you need to know, here,” he said with a wave to the control panel. “Are we ready otherwise?”

“Only waiting on you. Go on, Tommy.” Dream was bouncing on the tips of his toes, again. He gestured to the bridge with an almost sickeningly cheerful grin. “Get on the platform.”

Tommy looked between the two of them, finally settling on Sam, pleading desperation in his eyes.

Sam steeled himself and nodded. Tommy twitched - then, reluctance clear in every step, walked to the platform. Dream, still watching this, said, “Sam?”

And Sam said, “Yep,” and flung himself at Dream in a flying tackle.

-

There was a flickering, ethereal form standing at the top of Snowchester, looking out over the bay, towards the fires that were slowly but surely spreading on the other side of the water. They highlighted the form of the Prison, a black void in the chaos on the horizon line.

This ghostly figure wasn’t Tubbo - in fact, it was rather in his way. But that was typical, wasn’t it?

“Ghostbur,” he said guardedly, somewhat tiredly, and the other ghost turned around, surprise and delight lightening his expression. It was impossible to tell what the man had been thinking before.

“Tubbo! You’re still around! I’d heard you - you, ah, passed, as I had. But here you are! How lovely. I must tell Jack Manifold - that’s why I’m here, you know, I was visiting with Jack Manifold, he comes back here every once in a while from where he lives with Niki, to, you know, check up on the place. I do believe he has a memorial to you - though he doesn’t talk about you and Tommy much, seems to be something of a sensitive subject. In any case, how wonderful, I’m sure that he’ll be so happy to see you! I’m so happy to see you!”

“That’s - that’s great, Ghostbur. I’m happy to see you too,” Tubbo said, trying to edge his way around to the entrance to the bridge.

“And you’re a ghost, as well. Wonderful! We should start a - a club for ghosts, or something, though I suppose it’d only be the two of us… but still, two is better than one, is it not?”

“Very true,” Tubbo replied. He shifted the twin nukes in his arms. His back was to the bridge, now.

The movement caught Ghostbur’s attention. “Oh, what do you have? Those look rather strange.”

“These? They’re… um. Explosives.”

“Explosives? Tubbo - you’re not… you’re not going to L’Manberg, are you? You’re not off to hurt people? I thought we… I thought everybody was done with that.” Ghostbur’s expression went slack with disappointment and hurt. Tubbo sighed through his nose.

“Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Got to go hurt people!” Ghostbur drifted closer, into Tubbo’s space, in his apparent distress. “No, Tubbo! How could you - I thought you understood! I thought you had to, after everything!”

“Understood what?” Tubbo scrunched his eyebrows together. “What are you even on about? You and I, we’ve never… what?”

“Everything here ends in explosions, each one bigger than the last. What if the only way to stop the violence is to stop exploding things? Wouldn’t the only way to flip the script be to - say - defy it?” Ghostbur asks. His typically wispy voice was stronger - Tubbo spared a moment, a thought, to wonder what all that Ghostbur had been doing, while Tubbo had been on his vengeance quest. What really went on in that transparent head.

“You’re saying we shouldn’t try and fight back against the Eggpire?” Tubbo asked incredulously.

“Well - ah. I don’t know, I don’t know what they… have you tried asking them what they want, yet?”

“Wilbur - Ghostbur. Look,” Tubbo trailed off, and beyond the urgency, there was a wrench of deeper emotion.

It had always been Wilbur and Tommy in L’Manberg, the dynamic duo. Tubbo had always stood in their shadow, but he’d been there - as much a citizen as they’d been, as much a fighter. He’d loved it like they’d loved it. And here he and Wilbur now were, ghosts haunting a society that had used them, abused them, and moved on without them. Here Ghostbur was, advocating for nonviolence. Here Tubbo was, nukes in hand - a parting gift from his past life.

Tubbo had died because he was too weak, too kind, so in this new life he’d excised those feelings. He’d become hard. Ghostbur had done the opposite.

Tubbo realized what that swelling emotion in the pit of his stomach was, now - it was anger.

He planted a hand on Ghostbur’s chest and shoved him away, out of his personal space, registering the soft material of the other’s yellow sweater almost unwillingly. Ghostbur stumbled and fell to the ground, pale eyes widening with shock and hurt. Tubbo ignored it.

“It’s all well and good for you to have - to have changed your mind,” he said. “Or maybe you are a different person, not just the same person making different choices. I still don’t really understand how this whole ghost thing works. But you don’t - you of all people, you don’t get to tell me that I should solve my problems nonviolently. You did what you wanted to - you always have. And it was always me who had to do the hard stuff, your chores, your errands, your spying and building and - and the goddamn presidency, Wilbur! You and Tommy - but Tommy’s just a kid, he was just doing what he saw you do. You should’ve known better, and maybe you did, and you just didn’t care. Fuck off. I don’t - I don’t care where you are, in your own healing journey, or whatever - I don’t care anymore. Don’t tell me what to do or think. I’m my own person now. I don’t care what you are.”

He stepped back into the bridge and was whisked away by the currents that propelled it. Ghostbur’s small, flickering form sprawled out on the snow-dusted flagstones, his distraught expression, the abandoned village of Snowchester - it all dwindled away to nothing.

-

Dream wasn’t expecting the attack, though perhaps he should’ve, and so they went sprawling. Sam used his grip on Dream to roll them towards the platform - Tommy skittered out of the way.

“The levers!” he called, as he struggled to keep Dream’s hands away from his neck, the potions, the axe.

“Right!” Tommy called back and sprinted around them, across the room, to the control panel. Sam’s security card had slid across the floor in the scuffle - Tommy scooped it up on his way over.

The red lever - blessedly - got flipped, because the bridge lurched into motion. Dream roared with rage and struggled to pull away. Sam latched onto him, held him on the bridge as it began to float out over the lava. The potions went rolling off the side in the chaos.

“Yellow!” He yelled, and a second later, the lava began descending. The guard rail must be down. This was good, because Dream was already regaining the upper hand in the fight. Sam could feel the golden apple wearing off, and knew he was running out of time.

So he didn’t resist as Dream threw him from the platform onto the hot obsidian of the cell, jumping off to join him there before the platform had even finished its circuit. This was good, as well - the lava fell a lot more quickly than it drained, and it had been just above their heads where they were. As Sam pulled himself back to his feet, it obscured the platform - and Tommy’s figure, all the way back in the control room - in heat and fire.

Dream had drawn his axe, and seemed beyond speaking at this point. He charged at Sam, who dodged, flinching as the blade hit the wall above him and chips of obsidian scraped his face.

He maneuvered so his back was to the bed. Dream charged at him again. He dodged again, this time planting a foot into Dream’s back as he passed and kicking out. Dream stumbled and fell onto the bed, the same bed Tommy had spent so much time sitting on, waiting for salvation or death.

Dream sat up. The haze of rage seemed to dissipate for a moment, as he realized what had happened.

“You’re not intending to keep me here,” he said, and Sam laughed.

“I think I’ve already succeeded,” he said, and there was the rage again - Dream flung himself at Sam once more, axe going flying across the obsidian and abandoned for the old-fashioned weapon of his hands. Sam didn’t dodge this time. The pair of them fell into the lava.

[ Awesamdude tried to swim in lava to escape Dream. ]

[ Dream tried to swim in lava. ]

-

Sam respawned at the entrance to the Prison, as he’d intended, and despite the urgency of everything, let his head drop back against the pillow for a moment of abject relief.

Then a voice interrupted that moment of relief. “Ah - Sam?”

He jerked upright, relaxing when he realized it was only Punz, staring at him from across the lobby. Still - he straightened, sliding his feet off the bed.

“Hey Punz. What’s up? What’re you doing here?”

“I’m… uh. Well. Y’know, I was going to leave all of you to your shit, but then it seems like, ah, the world’s ending…” Punz scuffed his foot on the floor, uncharacteristically reticent. Sam waited for him to reach his point.

“And?” He prompted. Punz jerked upright, finally making eye contact.

“I was going to ask if you needed any help. I already told Tommy this, earlier - when they all were rescuing you - that I feel kind of bad about how things went down. About helping Dream, for the money. So I came here to help. It helped that you left the front door open,” he added, gesturing to the portal abashedly.

“Right,” Sam said slowly. Mentally he calculated the odds of Punz betraying them - already he was disinclined to trust the man, given former allegiances with Dream and the delicacy of the current situation.

But then, who was he to judge getting pulled into Dream’s web?

Before he could respond, there was a grinding noise, and the both of them looked to a wall in the far left corner as it pulled away, and Tommy came tumbling out.

“Sam!” He exclaimed, eyes only on the bed by the lockers, and he laughed delightedly as he went flying across the room. Sam stood and caught him in a hug, only to be sent staggering back by the force of it.

“I thought - I didn’t know - obviously I was so worried, and you said to trust you and all, but you weren’t saying anything, and I was so worried! But oh my god Sam, that was so badass! You just, you,” Tommy pulled away to mimic the motion of Sam tackling Dream, “You beat the shit out of him, holy shit. It was insane! And you’re here! And he’s in there! Well, at least, I think so. He is, right?” Tommy frowned in sudden concern.

“He ought to be stuck in there, yes,” Sam said, smile dimming at the thought. “I should hope so. Though it’s Dream - I mean, we should check, but there’s - “

“There’s the end of days waiting just outside,” Punz interjected, and Tommy seemed to register his presence for the first time.

“Oh. Ah, hey, Punz-o. Good to see you again? Didn’t think you’d be showing up again tonight. And here, of all places.”

“I didn’t think I’d be showing up either,” Punz replied dryly. “But here we are. So Sam, is that a - will you accept my help?”

Sam looked at Tommy. Tommy looked back at Sam and shrugged.

“Gladly,” Sam said, and as they all went to leave, Punz gave them a brief rundown of what would be waiting.

Chapter Text

When they emerged from Pandora, Tubbo was waiting outside, nukes in hand. He seemed distracted - it took Sam multiple attempts to get the ghost's attention.

Sam ended up taking the nukes, getting the codes from Tubbo in the process. It was only with Punz’s help that he managed to convince the kids to leave. The rumbling and roaring was constant now, and they could all make out the bulk of whatever monster the Eggpire had summoned on the horizon, as it broke buildings apart.

"Stay safe," Tommy had said as the group of them were leaving. "It was too much trouble rescuing you for you to just throw your life away now." The words were flippant, but the kid looked genuinely worried. Desperate, even.

Sam hadn't been able to reply. He'd just ruffled Tommy's hair and turned away. He trusted that they wouldn’t linger - that, at the very least, Punz wouldn’t let them.

He hurried up the emergency stairs to the roof, where he hoped that the secret maintenance hatch would still be intact.

-

Minutes later Sam stood atop the Prison, panting after his mad scramble up the stairs, as the first rays of smoke-red sunlight crested the horizon behind him and threw the monster that was lumbering its way towards him into sharp relief. The air was thick with smoke; he squinted as ash blew into his eyes. Slowly, he came to terms with what he was seeing.

The Egg - or what was once the Egg and was now something else - had become a writhing mass of vines, dirt, rock. It was like a small planet with its own gravity well was being towed through the center of their community. A trail of destruction was left behind it like it was the tip of a tornado, touching down. It looked like a Tangella (the Pokémon), but the size of a mountain. It definitely did not look like something that could be taken down by a sword or axe.

There were no eyes in its center, just a certain darkness and thickness in the ever-shifting coils, but he could feel when it saw him. Perhaps this was some remnant of his bond with it; perhaps it was just something in the air, now that the Egg was fully realized. If he hadn’t felt that attention, in any case, its shift in attention became apparent a moment later when it turned course towards the Prison. He knelt and primed the nukes.

“I thought you wanted to build?” The Egg said, and the voice was not in his head but all around him. It was terribly loud, and barely coherent. “I thought that was all you wanted. How pitiful - the man whose only desires were peace and preservation, prosperity and progress, now readying to sacrifice himself and his greatest creation. How tedious. I could have given you everything. I still could.”

The first tendrils of vines reached the beach. They appeared as rivulets of blood, which built into a crimson-black tide as the bulk of the Egg approached. Sam keyed in the codes, hands now steady. He made a face and responded, despite himself. “You say that, but you’re currently tearing our town apart.”

“I’m giving you all an opportunity to start anew. A clean slate to build off of - a calamity to bring you all together. You should be thanking me. After all - would you even have Dream in captivity, now, were it not for me? Years, you all had to yourselves, and how did you spend them? With war, with terrorism, with never-ending conflict and pain and betrayal. I am only trying to help you escape all of that - why do you resist me?” Its full mass was perched upon the beach now, those leading tendrils feeding into the water. Sam couldn’t see them crawling up against the obsidian, cast into shadow as they were, but he imagined he didn’t have much time before they reached him.

“Because you look super evil,” Sam rebutted dryly. “And somehow I don’t think that letting you take over everything is going to solve all of our problems - or if it does, it’ll be because we have new, more pressing ones. So - no thanks,” he concluded.

And then he launched the nukes.

They arced high up into the sky, and the Egg roared, and surged into the water between the Prison and the shore. The leading edge of vines climbed the black obsidian walls and went to wrap around him, and he was consumed - then a minute later, in the pain and violence of it all, there was suddenly nothing more.

[ Awesamdude went off with a bang. ]

-

Sam woke up in the a vaguely familiar set of woods - one that was on fire but somehow not burning, and surrounded by shitty, patchy walls.

Ah. Spawn.

It was done - it must be done. He was so tired. He let his head drop back to the pine needle carpet with a thump, and stayed there for a while.

-

Elsewhere in the SMP, the motley remains of their crew met at the crest of a hill, that with the best view of the smoking hulk which had once been the Prison.

It was Tubbo, Tommy and Punz on one side, Technoblade, Philza, and Ranboo’s slumped, unconscious body on the other - Ranboo being carried by Technoblade, who had slung the boy over his broad shoulder.

Tubbo zeroed in on this and was very clearly not happy with it, drawing his crossbow immediately.

“Set him down,” Tubbo demanded, shaking a bit.

“He’s not dead,” Phil reassured, but Tubbo didn’t budge. Slowly, with his eyes fixed upon Tubbo’s crossbow, Techno complied. Ranboo’s limp body slumped, boneless, as he touched the ground. Tubbo threw the crossbow aside and rushed forward. It dissolved and reformed on his back before it had even hit the ground.

“Ranboo?” He murmured, grabbing Ranboo’s shoulder, his face. “Are you - “ There were no obvious injuries - he looked up accusingly. “What fucking happened?”

Techno hesitated, seeming to choose his words. “When he took us down to that bunker you guys made in the Egg room, he was actin’ weird. Twitchy. But we thought he was just freaked out, which like, couldn’t blame him for. When we started watchin’ the Egg, Dream was there with Bad and Ant, and they were doin’ somethin’ weird, readin’ out of some book - and then Dream left, and we were debatin’ goin’ after him, because we knew he would go straight for the two of you - “ here he sent an apologetic grimace Tommy’s way, who shrugged in response. “But then Ranboo started having some kinda fit. Eyes went all weird, he was mumblin’ and shakin’. Then he attacked us. Grabbed my sword and tried to stab me with it. At the same time, Egg started comin’ alive, and BadBoyHalo and AntFrost noticed the commotion and came for us. I managed to knock Ranboo out and take my sword back, but by then Phil ’n I were preoccupied fightin’ the Egg guys. And the Egg was startin’ to rampage through town. So - all told, he’s fine,” Techno shrugged again. “Just took a bit of a bump to the head. Phil and I ended up killing those Eggpire goons, though. No idea where they ended up respawnin’.”

“You hurt him,” was all Tubbo seemed to derive from that.

“He attacked us first!”

“You’re telling me Ranboo was an actual threat. Aren’t you the best fighter in the SMP?”

“We were under duress.”

“Always something, isn't it?” Tubbo glanced at Tommy, who came and dragged Ranboo’s body out of the way as Tubbo straightened up, drawing his crossbow once more. “Always under duress, and it always seems to be somebody else who pays for it.”

“You can’t seriously be blaming me for this. I didn’t even take one of his lives - he’s just unconscious.”

“I can blame you, I will blame you, and I’ll assign blame to you for everything else, as well. It’s time to pay up. Are you gonna resist?”

“I - “

“Tubbo,” Phil cut in. “Let’s think about this.”

“I’ve done nothing but think, Phil. Will you resist? I don’t mind a bit of collateral damage - after all, it seems to be the precedent we’ve set.”

“Tubbo, I don’t think this is what Ranboo - “

“Fuck off, Tommy.”

“Alright,” Tommy muttered quietly, shifting Ranboo in his arms.

A stretch of silence.

“Alright,” Technoblade said as well, but loudly, with a finality. “I’ve got my three lives. If you taking one is what makes us even, I won’t be happy to hand it over - but I’ve got no desire to have you hauntin’ my steps, either.”

And behind Technoblade’s back, the warrior clutched a totem.

-

Sam stirred. There were birds singing. When was the last time he’d laid in a forest and listened to birds? Certainly not since the first days of the SMP.

He remembered spawning in to this exact spot.

He sighed.

There wasn’t time to be laying around. He rolled to his knees, ignoring the aches of a body raised from the dead, and painstakingly stood.

-

“I am sorry, Tubbo. You know that, right? I’m sorry that I killed you.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“Better late than never.”

“I wanted to kill you that day, you know. Tommy just wouldn’t shut up, and then I… I didn’t have the presence to butt in. I’m different now. You can’t talk me out of this.”

Ranboo stirred.

Below them, a man limped up a hill, body uncertain and newly scarred.

-

Tubbo primed the crossbow. The arrow was now a rocket - reminiscent of old times. Tubbo’s own burn scars, stretching across his face, were highlighted by the ghostly white sheen of his skin.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo croaked just in time, and Tubbo’s hand jerked, and the firework went flying over Technoblade’s shoulder. Tubbo didn’t notice the totem lying in the dirt behind Techno’s boots, but Phil did. Phil sent Techno a hard look as Tubbo turned away from the pair of them. The crossbow remained pointed in their direction.

“What happened?” Ranboo murmured, hand to his head. “I can’t remem - it’s just all fuzzy. Did I - did I attack you?” He asked, looking up at Techno and Phil.

“It was nothing,” Phil said reassuringly.

“I mean, you tried to,” Techno scoffed at the same time. “Don’t think that was exactly you, though.”

“No… no, it wasn’t. What’s happened?”

“Egg went crazy and destroyed town, Sam nuked it, the Prison, and himself to destroy it, and now Tubbo wants to kill Techno,” Tommy muttered in Ranboo’s ear. Ranboo was still propped up against him. Ranboo nodded slowly, and struggled to sit up properly. Tommy let him go. There was a bit of dried blood on the back of Ranboo’s head, matting his hair. Tommy tried not to stare at it.

“So is this it, then?” Ranboo asked Tubbo. “Last revenge, then you’re leaving?”

“Like I’ve always said, yeah.”

“And nothing up until this point has changed your mind? You feel nothing at all?”

“It’s not your place to tell me to turn back.”

“But can I ask you to?” Ranboo got shakily to his feet and stumbled to Tubbo, who steadied him, though the height difference made the act almost comical. Ranboo caught himself on Tubbo’s shoulders and squeezed them. “Leave it, Tubbo. Stay with me. Please.”

Tubbo grimaced. “I’m already dead, bossman. Can’t go back from that, only forward.”

“It doesn’t matter - we’ll figure it out. You’ve stuck around as a ghost for this long. Why rush?”

“It isn’t rushing - I’ve taken long enough,” Tubbo said with some asperity. But he bit his lip.

Techno and Phil stayed quiet. Their little group was a frozen tableau as everybody waited for Tubbo to make his decision. That was why it was easy to hear the slow, measured, dragging footsteps of somebody limping up the Prime Path.

“So here you all are,” Sam said as he came over the ridge, and his voice was raspy. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey guys. Glad to see you all made it.”

“Sam,” Tommy exclaimed, and scrambled to his feet, nearly bowling Sam back down the hill in his enthusiasm. Sam laughed and caught him.

“Goodness. Let me tell you, I didn’t much feel the nuke, but that Egg hurt so much. Thanks for the help, by the way Tubbo - don’t think we would’ve been able to kill it without you. Don’t think swords or crossbows would’ve worked on that monster.” Sam said over Tommy’s shoulder. Tubbo smiled awkwardly in response, and the arm holding the crossbow sagged a bit.

Sam went back to talking with Tommy, celebrating the ostensive end of their no-good very-bad week, and Tubbo looked between them, Ranboo, and Technoblade. Finally he sighed and let the crossbow drop fully.

“I told myself I wouldn’t give this one up for anything. Nobody would be able to take my revenge away from me - not like they did while I was living,” he said quietly.

“Nobody’s taking it away from you. You’re choosing a different path,” Ranboo replied. Tubbo slid an arm around Ranboo’s waist and Ranboo leaned heavily against him, his own arm braced against Tubbo’s shoulders.

“You can always just kill me later,” Techno added dryly, lapsing back into jokes now that the apparent danger had passed. That earned him dire looks from both Tubbo and Phil, the latter of whom was just straightening after plucking something up off the ground from behind Techno. The golden gleam of the Totem between his fingers disappeared quickly into his voluminous sleeves.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tubbo shot back, and Ranboo practically folded over to groan dramatically into Tubbo’s shoulder. Techno laughed, and Phil swatted at him. Tommy and Sam - with Tommy still clinging to Sam’s arm and the tatters of Sam’s pants revealing thick, ropy scars where his legs had degraded in his previous life - worked their way over. Punz hesitated, considering leaving while everybody was distracted, but Sam reached over and grabbed him too. Their group huddled together and chatted, celebrating their being (mostly) alive.

The sun had risen and was now hidden once more behind the thick clouds of smoke billowing from the wreckage of the SMP. It was a cold morning. From their vantage point, it looked like little had been left intact - though now that the burning from the Prison had died down, they could see that some of the inner shells of obsidian yet remained. Where the water between the Prison and shore had once been was now a yawning chasm, where waterfalls fell in perpetuity. They could hear the roar of them even so far away.

The war against the Eggpire was won, and Dream was (presumably, though they would need to check) imprisoned. The time for violence and cunning was over.

It was time to build something new.

Chapter Text

Dream had been in the Prison for a few weeks, at this point.

It felt like there was so much to talk about, in the wake of all these calamitous events, but in the end there wasn’t much to say at all. Tubbo remained, and remained a ghost. He and Tommy tentatively began to rebuild their relationship, Tubbo’s death still too delicate a subject for them to directly confront. They were getting there; Sam couldn’t tell if Ranboo being added to their little group made things better or worse, but overall, they were getting there.

BadBoyHalo and AntFrost turned up a few days after the Egg was destroyed, with only blurry memories of the few months previous. It turned out that Skeppy had died - killed by the Egg. Bad wasn’t taking it well. His accents were red again, white no longer, but there was a certain paleness to him as he drifted around the SMP, devastation reflecting in his eyes.

Ant seemed fine enough. He also seemed to realize that he wasn’t currently very popular - Sam didn’t see much of him in the following weeks.

Phil and Techno took off once they were certain that things were peaceful once more. Things had been weirdly tense between them; Sam got the sense that something had happened while they’d been separated on E-Day. He’d caught the tail end of their arguing about it once - something about a totem?

In any case, they’d acquired a few new scars each from the battle; an angry red one stretched across the side of Techno’s neck. He’d been pointedly ignoring Phil’s attempts to treat it with a potion, saying that he had better stuff at home.

“Besides, I moved out to the middle of nowhere for a reason,” Techno had grunted with sardonic humor. Sam was seeing the pair of them off at the portal, so early in the morning that it was still dark out. The kids were still sleeping. “And that reason was because I hate socialization, and it hates me. Right, Phil?”

“That’s not true, mate,” Phil had soothed, but he looked a little too amused to really sell the act. Phil then clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Come and visit us sometime, yeah? It’s been good.”

“Good is not how I would describe any of what’s happened,” Sam rebutted, but smiled. “I think fighting a cult together makes us friends now, though. I think that’s just how it works.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Phil stretched, judging the horizon. “And tell Tommy to come over sometime as well. We’ll always have a space for you lot.”

“Hey, what’s this we? It’s my house, old man.”

“Whatever,” Phil waved Techno off. “See you, Sam.”

And still squabbling, they’d stepped into the portal and teleported away. Sam had lingered a moment, watching the rippling purple shadows and listening to the whooshing noise of space and time being ripped asunder, before strolling back to the hastily and poorly-patched remains of the Prime Path.

They’d delivered Fran back to the SMP the next day, which had been a happy reunion. Fran had jumped Sam, barking happily and licking his face, only getting off him to tackle Tommy in turn. She’d spent more time at Tommy’s side than Sam’s since then, which was fine - Tommy really seemed to enjoy her company. And Sam was spending a lot of time on dangerous build sites these days, so he was glad that she had somebody to take care of her.

Tubbo had relaxed a lot after Techno left, to the point that it was easy to forget, sometimes, that he was still the vengeful and hardened ghost of before; easy to forget, that is, until he’d start hovering again, or flicker out of existence when startled. He and Ranboo had gone to visit Snowchester, initially just to grab some of Tubbo’s things. They’d started to linger there, recently, as Tubbo had rediscovered his passion for building things and Ranboo had found himself loathe to leave Tubbo’s side, after everything.

Town was rebuilt. People who Sam hadn’t seen in ages showed up, drawn from their respective distances to out of curiosity as to what new apocalypse had taken place. Punz dug up Puffy and Ponk from wherever they’d retreated to, then disappeared, himself, once more.

Puffy seemed to be doing better after her brief ‘vacation’, as she described it. Ponk was still not feeling quite alright after everything, so he spent most of his time back at the lemon grove. Sam was making an active effort, now, to go and visit with him. Things were still a little awkward, but improving.

They made Puffy the new Warden.

“Are you sure?” She’d asked when Sam had broached the subject. She’d seemed a little hesitant, but not reluctant - really, she had a core of steel, that woman. Sam envied her a bit.

“As sure as I am of anything. If I’ve learned anything from this whole mess, it’s that building a Prison does not make me a Warden. Just a builder. I think you’ll do much better.”

“Well, alright. I suppose I’ve got a lot of experience dealing with crazy people, after managing Bad and Ant for so long. Let’s give it a shot.”

And so Puffy had taken over the rehabilitation of the Prison’s sole prisoner. Sam hadn’t asked how it was going - he had no interest.

Sam had no desire to be involved with he Prison any longer, no concern that it meant passing down to Puffy the greatest secrets of his greatest creation. He had different concerns, now. She took to the position with gusto. The Prison looked different now, in any case; the waterfalls had never gone away, but were now bridged by a makeshift structure of cobbled-together wooden planks. Puffy had mentioned something about converting the bridge to glass, for the aesthetics, and asked for his help in collecting the requisite sand. He’d declined. He had helped, however, with replacing the front desk, as it and the entire entry area had been destroyed in the explosion. The inner area still remained, as did a very angry and somewhat confused Dream.

Sam hadn’t been in to see him, just confirmed that the man was still there. It had been as much to put Tommy at ease as himself.

The vines left around town were now decaying, and from their rotting shells sprung up flowers, of a quantity and variety Sam had never seen before. The effect was beautiful, dots of color springing up and enveloping the blackened and destroyed landscape. The Egg’s temple itself, was now inaccessible - so overwhelmed it had been with verdant growth.

Sam still gave the place a wide berth.

It created such an atmosphere that the kids had actually taken to hanging out around the now meadow-like Prison. They said it was because it was pretty, and there were bees, and because Puffy was cool and chill. He suspected that there were more complex underlying reasons for their lingering around the structure that had once been such a hell for Tommy, but Sam didn’t push about it. Tommy would talk about it if he wanted to. After all, he’d once been the Warden that held Tommy captive, and look where they were now.

But yes, many people were turning up once more. He’d passed Hannah and Purpled on the Prime Path earlier, as they’d contemplated the wreckage of Hannah’s house and Purpled’s UFO. Niki and Jack Manifold had come by the day before, strangely furtive as they asked Sam where Tommy was. They hadn’t seem to expect the boy as he’d come barreling into the room not a moment later - Sam and Tommy had been camping out in Tommy’s old place for the time being, and Tommy had just returned from helping with some of the repair work. He’d been halfway through asking Sam a question when he noticed the two visitors’ presence, and the words had died on his lips; Sam had read the room and slipped away as the gaggle of former revolutionaries awkwardly exchanged pleasantries.

Quackity also put in an appearance, slinking back from whatever hideaway he’d holed up in. He looked different now, but that seemed to Sam the product of their brief separation; Quackity looked as he always had, or had for quite some time now, and it was only now that Sam himself had grown and changed that he could see the tension in Quackity’s posture, the haunted gleam of his moon-white eye, for what it was.

It was just today that Quackity had gone to request a visit with Dream. Sam had been there, in the lobby - they were putting the finishing touches on plugging the desk into the security system - when Quackity had strolled in from the bridge.

“Puffy!” He’d exclaimed, grinning. “And Sam. Man, it’s been ages. How are you guys? You look a little more beat up than the last time I saw you - or, at least, Sam does. I heard a lot went on here since I was away.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Sam laughed, glancing at Puffy out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t smiling.

Quackity had a sword strapped to his side. Sam hadn’t seen anybody openly carrying a weapon around the SMP since Phil and Techno had left - it felt almost incongruous now. Perhaps the sword was just so that Quackity could defend himself from monsters while traveling, but Sam got the sense there was more to it than that.

“I’m doing alright,” Puffy said, tone businesslike. “It’s nice to see you as well. I don’t suppose you came here just to visit with us?”

“Well - yeah, maybe I came to visit somebody else, too.” Quackity’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, which he gripped casually. “I hear you’ve got Dream holed up in here now? Y’know, instead of Tommy,” he added, glancing at Sam. Sam felt his own smile slip.

“We do,” Puffy agreed. “Were you wanting to visit with him? I’m afraid we’re not letting visitors into Dream’s cell at the moment, though you can talk with him across the lava lake. You’ll have to surrender your weapons for the time being, though.”

“Ah, Puffy,” Quackity started, some of his friendliness dropping away. “Surely you can understand - “

“Sam, I’m sorry, I’ve kept you past when you said you’d be leaving. You have that thing with Tommy, right? Why don’t you get going?”

That wasn’t true - she was just trying to get him out of there.

Sam trusted Puffy’s ability to handle Quackity, and to handle herself in a fight. He took the out and left, going to find Tommy as she’d obliquely suggested. He didn’t want the kid getting wrapped up in any of this, so it would be good if they went somewhere else for the day. Maybe they could pay a visit to Snowchester.

As it turned out Tommy was sitting on a hill, just off the Prime Path, with a clear view of the Prison’s remains and the surrounding area. Fran was stretched out at his side, head resting atop her paws with a loose, shoddy flower crown draped over her ears.

The air was heavy with pollen; a bee droned by Sam’s ear as he climbed the steps. He had to pause to take a breather, as walking and climbing had become much more strenuous since his death. The scent of smoke had faded, fortunately, with flowers and the occasional patch of damp rot taking its place.

Tommy must have spotted Sam during that long climb, but said nothing until the former Warden took a seat at his side.

“Saw Quackity,” Tommy opened casually, and any hope of avoiding the subject slipped from Sam’s grasp.

“He wants to see Dream,” Sam admitted. “I don’t think Puffy trusts him. He did seem a little… off.”

Tommy hummed. “Don’t think I’ve really talked to him in a while. Y’know, George, Sapnap, ‘n Karl came by yesterday. The Kinoko Kingdom boys. Wonder if Quackity timed his visit to avoid them - they had quite the breakup, you know,” he added in a gossipy undertone.

Sam forced the tension out of his shoulders and smiled. “I think I heard about it, but I was busy building the Prison at the time. Who’s been telling you all of that?”

“Niki. Didja know they built their kingdom right on top of her base? Out in the middle of nowhere, too. Rather inconsiderate, if you ask me. But she’s been filling me in about all their drama,” Tommy stretched the word out exaggeratedly. “Her and Jack Manifold, when they came to visit. That was weird.”

“Weird?”

“Well,” Tommy thought about it. “They cried and hugged me a lot. Then they told me I was awful. Niki like, shoved me a bit, and Jack had to leave and like, calm down I guess. And then Niki told me not to do anything so stupid again. And then she hugged me again, and Jack came back, and that’s when things relaxed a bit. And then they told me the drama,” he nodded affirmatively.

“Hm,” Sam said, thinking about it. “They were also part of L’Manberg, right? Maybe they still have some hangups from then?”

Tommy shrugged. “Probably, but I gotta say man - I’m tired of figuring out other people’s emotions. I’m exhausted. I just wanna chill for a while.” He flopped back onto the soft grass, and the sun gleamed in his hair. They’d cut it earlier in the week; Tubbo had likened the process to shearing a sheep, laughing as he hovered in the air to dodge Tommy’s responding smack.

They’d also had to dig up some new, clean and intact clothes for Tommy, which had been more difficult - Sam had ended up going back to his base (now also overgrown) and procuring some hand-me-downs. Tommy had rolled up the sleeves and cuffed the pants, but had also refused to change them out for clothes from Snowchester, when Ranboo and Tubbo had offered.

Sam eyed a stray curl that had escaped the shearing process. “Yeah? Time to take a break, then?”

Tommy stared up at the sky, then rolled on his side to look at Sam. “Well,” he started - and a grin was spreading across his face, there were no dark circles under his eyes, and his complexion was healthy and tanned, and it was for a moment as if there had never been any of the dark things that still kept Tommy up at night.

“There’re all these people coming back from out of town, right? And they don’t have anywhere to stay ‘cause everything got wrecked by the Egg. And they’ve got money.”

“Sure,” Sam said, taking in the faraway stretch of the horizon line. It really was a beautiful day. He looked back towards Tommy, thoughts of lava and obsidian a lifetime away. Tommy leaned towards him conspiratorially.

“So, what d’you think about building a hotel?”