Archive of Our Own

When Tommy was a little boy, his family taught him a lot of things.

Phil, his father, taught him how to survive. Phil taught Tommy what it meant to persevere and continue living if not thriving at all costs through raw grit alone. How to craft the necessary items for survival, what it takes to use those items. How to live when those around you are dying and to not bat an eye at men who are already dead even if they're still breathing for a moment. Phil taught Tommy how to keep his heart pumping and his lungs full of air.

Techno, his brother, taught him how to kill. Techno taught Tommy everything he needed or would ever need to know about combat. What points on the body to strike because they're the weakest. What the quickest way to kill a person is. How to never be merciful. How to swallow down the bile that came at the thought of killing another living thing and to focus on making sure you stayed alive. The rest of the world didn't matter, it could burn. Techno taught Tommy how to keep the blood in his veins and his head on his shoulders even when it meant the people around him couldn't.

Wilbur, his brother, taught him how to charm. How to dance around someone in a conversation. How to trick them into liking you. How to make a person hang on to your every single word. How to disguise any ill intent and make people comfortable around you. How to convince someone that your ideals were their ideals. Wilbur taught Tommy how to make his tongue silver and ensure there was always someone standing behind him. 

The one thing his family really didn't teach him about was love. Tommy liked his family, they took care of him, but he wasn't sure if they loved him and if he loved them. What even was love to a boy who'd been raised to be perfect at the cost of humanity. When Tommy was a little boy he had no humanity. Nothing binding him to other people. Nothing keeping him from growing up into a monster that simply survived and killed and charmed and lived. A fairytale villain. Tommy's family never showed him how to love, he knew how to mimic them but they didn't show him any love. Didn't show each other any love. How did you love? Tommy didn't know the actions or the motions, so love was understandably a foreign concept. An act he simply couldn't replicate.

When Tommy was still a little boy he got lost on his way back home and stumbled into a clearing of flowers and bees. At its center was a young boy with soft brown hair and doeish eyes, too gentle and kind. Something in his chest twisted.

The other boy introduced himself as Tubbo and together the two played for hours. Making believe games and stories to pass the time which seemed to blessedly still. 

Tommy never learned how to love from his family. So he learned how to from his first friend. His best friend. When it was getting late and Tommy knew for certain he needed to head home, Tubbo had plucked a flower from the ground and handed it to him, the roots still clinging to dirt. A memento, a beautiful scarlet flower that Tommy didn't know the name of but apparently one that reminded Tubbo of him (it was a carnation, Tommy had noted the first day he'd gotten a book about flower symbolism. Purchased secretly with his own allowance. Love, pride, and admiration.)

When Tommy was really little, Wilbur had told him stories about love. How it was brilliant and burned and hurt. That was the kind of love that someone felt when they wanted to kiss another person though. That wasn't the kind of love that settled gently into Tommy's heart as he silently took the flower, clutching it to his chest with a baffled expression as Tubbo turned on his heels and started on his own way home.

Tommy could understand some of the things that Wilbur had said that day though. The wanting to forever stand by that person's side forever, the want to protect them, just the general craving for their attention. Pride and admiration. That's what he wanted his new friend to associate with him. So Tommy clutched the flower to his chest and walked home in a daze.

He liked his family.

He loved Tubbo.

Nothing gross and strange like the way that Wilbur loved Sally. More like the way that Tommy should have loved Techno and Wilbur if that was ever an emotion he could associate with the two. When Tommy was a child he learned how to give and receive affection from his first and best friend. Began to understand love in terms of an unbreaking and entirely unromantic affection. For Tommy, affection and love slowly became flowers given to him randomly with little warning when he found Tubbo sitting in their clearing waiting for him, the bees around buzzing around his head as the older boy smiled. 

Affection started as a single red carnation, a small gesture that became lasting and permanent as each time the pair met, a new bloom would be added to Tommy's slowly growing collection.

Before that first carnation wilted Tommy pestered and bothered Phil until his father taught him how to press flowers and make them live forever in the pages of a book.

The book became one of the few things more precious than his discs, never leaving his ender chest long enough to be noticed by anyone but him and Tubbo who saw that first red carnation and silently smiled.

The tradition didn't end until Tommy was exiled.

Tommy didn't receive a single bloom and he sure as hell didn't pick any. Looking at flowers, even seeing the brightly colored petals, was enough to send him into a tail spin of despair if not outright make him feel physical ill from the rush of emotion, good and bad. 

Tommy didn't receive any flowers after his exile. When he sided with Tubbo and bared his fangs against the world because the family he liked could never compare to the best friend he loved. Sure, maybe he loved his father in some senses of the word. Maybe the idolization and hero worship he felt for his brothers had slowly muted into a soft affection. But nothing ever touched the emotions and words said in nothing more than the randomly plucked flowers that used to be pressed into his hands whenever Tommy's mood started to dim during the war for L'manberg. Nothing would ever come close to the rush of feelings when bundles of wild flowers were left outside Pogtopia's entrance without any word or warning. 

The two never acknowledge it. Tommy hardly reciprocated. Sometimes, but rarely. Flowers tucked quietly behind Tubbo's ears and laid silently onto his desk after the wars were won or lives were lost had been the end of it. 

Of course, he always failed and struggled to reciprocate until he was sure that it was his last. Standing silently and gazing at the compass labeled Your Discs, he also beat himself up for being too much of a coward to ask. He wanted so desperately for that small taste of the past. Some reassurance that Tubbo still cared about him after everything that had happened. Tommy knew how to say "I love you" with flowers pressed into bandaged fingers. Without that, he wasn't sure if anyone had ever loved him. 

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath as he watched the sun slowly starting to dip down. He had a plan, but he'd finished mining and resource gathering a little bit earlier. They were still low on potions and ender pearls but he might as well mess with Techno. One final giggle at his older brother who'd long since disowned him. Tommy didn't think he was making it out of this one.

If he was done early and there was nothing else he could do, well, the Dream SMP had a very odd assortment of flowers. Somehow it managed to grow just about anything under the sun, no that Tommy was complaining. If he only knew how to show and receive the love of himself and others in flowers, there was no harm in letting down his guard enough in a bid to show. There were a lot of people he wanted to say goodbye to. People he'd never known how to show his appreciation for. If this was to be his last, he might as well try.

Ghostbur was understandably the first person to receive a small flower pot. The flowers inside it still very much alive and well. Tommy silently marched up to Ghostbur with a strange kind of resolve, fingers shaking slightly as he held the flower pot.

"Tommy?" Ghostbur tilted his head to the side just as the teen shoved the pot towards him, holding it out awkwardly. "What is this?" Ghostbur asked, running a pale finger down one of the petals of a flower leaning lazily over the edge of the pot. 

"A flower pot, dumbass. I get amnesia but don't tell me you forget what one of these looked like," Tommy snapped, still pushing the flower pot towards him. 

Ghostbur blinked. While Tommy was acting like Tommy, he was still Tommy's older brother memories or no memories and he knew something was off. A lot of his childhood was almost perfectly in tact, or at least, he assumed it was. After all, Wilbur had enjoyed his childhood. It was bright and Tommy was ferocious but was so cute. Like a little lion cub rather than the angry adult lion standing before him. Wilbur had truly loved Tommy even if he didn't know how to show it the best. He'd tried to, attempting to teach Tommy how to play the guitar or showing him how to string words together that would make others happy. But the lessons rarely clicked and Tommy didn't seem to understand what it meant. In the end Wilbur had gotten frustrated, but had still loved his little brother like no other. Knew Tommy better than the vast majority of their family.

Which was all to say that Tommy was acting like Tommy while also not acting like Tommy. The words of the younger boy were spoken with his usual angry bravado, but the tone fell flat. Something about the way the words were spoken or the way Tommy was carrying himself just made him seem tired. The usual anger, the usual fire, was muted if not entirely dark. 

It sent chills down the icy ghost's spine. "I know what it is, but why..." Ghostbur trailed off as the pot itself was forced into his hands. It was either hold it or drop it and something in the pit of Ghostbur's very being made him feel like he shouldn't drop it. 

"It's a gift," Tommy said, voice growing hushed as Ghostbur looked down at the flower pot in his hands. Spider lilies, calla lilies, and regular old lilies filled the pot. The only thing that wasn't a lily was the single purple bloom which seemed to be the center piece of the pot. A single purple hyacinth. Ghostbur slowly stashed the flowers away in his inventory, more than happy to receive a gift from his beloved little brother but knowing that something was well and truly off. 

This wasn't like when Ghostbur was still Wilbur. This wasn't like the scant few times where Tommy had run up to him as a child to hand him yellow and blue wildflowers that the younger had picked. This wasn't like when that younger version of Tommy had practically lit up brighter than the sun itself upon Wilbur accepting the gift and carefully tucking the flowers into his beanie, the bundle sitting in a vase until they were well and truly dead. 

There was an air of finality to this, something that set even the usually chipper Ghostbur on edge. The air was uneasy but the moment the flowers were tucked away into his inventory a tension Ghostbur hadn't even noticed seemed to leech out of Tommy's shoulders. Tommy smiled brightly at him. "If you could also deliver this one for me," Tommy said hesitantly as he pulled out another flower pot. 

Petunias, rhododendrons, and wolf bane. All surrounding a single purple hyacinth. "Of course! Who's it for?"

"Alivebur," Tommy said, his smile become a little sadder. A little more bitter. 

Ghostbur's smile wavered slightly as Tommy turned on his heels and ran off. Not giving the ghost a single chance to question the entire affair. 

He should have forgotten as soon as Tommy was gone. Ghostbur didn't like this memory. He didn't want it anymore. Nothing about the interaction had been very good. The constant sense of unease combined with a building terror that continued to haunt Ghostbur long after Tommy's departure. He should have forgotten. This was a bad memory. But for some reason it scorched itself into Ghostbur's mind and refused to leave. He wasn't entirely sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Even during Doomsday, he'd never wanted to be alive as much as this moment right here.

Niki was the second person to receive a flower pot. Tommy had an easier time giving her one than he had Ghostbur. Niki had a harder time receiving one than had Ghostbur. 

She stared silently at the flowerpot carefully gripped in Tommy's hands, noticing the number of bandages wrapped around the skinny fingers. She had a million plans already brewing to try and murder Tommy. To teach him a lesson. He'd come back a ghost, surely. So where was the harm? So many new conflicts would never be born. So many old conflicts and scars would finally receive closure. Tommy himself, if Wilbur was any indication, would probably he happier.

Somewhere underneath Niki's anger and her own lingering trauma was a strong sense of pity and a wounded sense of love. Wilbur had been her brother, not by blood but by the camaraderie they shared. Tommy had also been her little brother. A little brother she couldn't protect who in turn had lashed out at the world. 

She'd only recently discovered that Wilbur was a ghost, not to mention she'd only recently met Ghostbur, but in that moment she'd decided that maybe it would be better if Tommy was also a ghost. 

The flowerpot very carefully placed into her hands evoked a strange mixture of confusing emotions. The look in Tommy's eyes filled her entire stomach with a deeply uncomfortable feeling. She didn't know if it was terror or regret. "Tommy?" She asked, the boy's eyes burning into her very being.

Tommy's gaze was akin to Wilbur's without he mania. There was no desire in them to rip and tear and burn for the things that had been taken from him. But Niki could immediately recognize the pain and defeat in his gaze. "What is this, Tommy?" 

"A present," he said, managing a soft smile. The kind of smile he'd only ever given to her and Tubbo, the only two people he had the bravery to give the softer pieces of himself to. 

"Why?" She asked, looking down at the flowers arranged in the pot. Orchid cactus flowers and white chrysanthemums. She knew the names of the flowers only from spending enough time with Tommy to absorb some of the information he listed off at random. In that moment she was sharply reminded that this boy, this sixteen year old, her little brother, was someone who could list off the names and meanings of every flower she'd ever seen by heart. Sometimes it was an easy thing to forget.

Niki didn't know the meanings. 

Tommy shrugged at her question, glancing to the side. "I wanted to give you a present," he said simply as though that was the only reason. He turned his gaze back towards her, their eyes meeting. That was the only reason.

"I have one more gift for you that's a little more special," he said as she tucked away the pot in her inventory. She froze when Tommy pulled out a tiny sapling, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. "You can probably already guess, but yeah, it's from the L'mantree. I think a lot of us, myself included, forgot that sometimes you need to move on from things that are broken or already gone. I don't think you should fully get rid of the past though, that you should take the pieces that can still be salvaged and let them grow into something new. Something more beautiful. Life is all about picking up the good parts and moving forward till you can make something from the. I'm leaving this sapling to you since I trust you. Either you can grow something new, make things better... Or you can burn this one too."

Niki's breath caught. He knew?

Tommy kept going, either not noticing or not caring about Niki's current dilemma. "You've always been Eliza, and for that, I'm sorry. This time the decision gets to be yours." 

He silently handed Niki the pot. She didn't say anything. Couldn't. "G'bye Niki. I kinda hope that I'll be able to see you again." There was something grim to that statement and she had no clue what in the world he could mean, but he left long before she figured out where her voice had gone.

Techno and Phil both received two identical bouquets. Techno only noticed them sat tucked away in a corner after he'd chased Tommy off and was taking stock of what the racoon had stolen this time. He hated Tommy. He knew that. He still loved Tommy. He knew that. Neither he nor Phil had figured out how to reconcile those two feelings. Neither one knew how to communicate the other well enough to figure it out together. 

They were hurt, yes. Tommy sided with Tubbo. Had they hurt Tommy? Techno was starting to realize that maybe the answer was yes. When he shouted and yelled at Tommy, blowing up his country, he's told Tommy that he was a person. 

"Yes, you are. We're people too!"

Those words had settled on Techno's shoulders and forced him to think about ever interaction he ever had with Tommy. Think about the fact it was Wilbur who'd asked him to fight for L'manberg, not Tommy. Think about the fact Tommy had helped Techno whole heartedly get his weapons and armor back and Techno had only ever prioritized his own goals when the original deal had been armor and weapons then discs. Not armor and weapons then blow up L'manberg then discs. 

He cursed silently under his breath realizing that on a technicality he was indebted to Dream and Tommy. He'd silently at some point decided the two canceled themselves out and he wouldn't get involved with their nonsense from then on out. 

Phil thought much the same, wondering if he'd been taking his guilt over Wilbur's death out on Tommy. Sure the government did bad things. Awful things, terrible things, but was this actually going to even teach Tommy anything? If there's one thing Phil realized about the child early on he did a lot of things out of spite. He realized, perhaps a little bit too late, maybe this would just convince Tommy to actively try and become a tyrant. 

Both were stuck in an endless loop of thoughts, nursing their own wounds and silently wondering what wounds they hadn't noticed they themselves giving to a member of their own family, when Techno found the flower pots. Of course, Techno's first response was panic and to call Phil in.

Who would leave flowers? For some reason, Techno's first thought wasn't Tommy. Why would Tommy leave flowers? Techno doubted that Tommy even liked flowers and he was way too much of a little shit to do something that sweet. Even if it wasn't someone malicious leaving the flowers, who would leave flowers of all things if they wanted to hurt Techno, it still unnerved him how someone had snuck in and left flowers without him noticing. 

"Mate, relax. Tommy probably did it. He's always had an affinity for flowers," had been Phil's response to that bout of worrying.

"He does?" Techno asked, picking up the pot. He didn't know what was inside of it. 

Phil nodded, picking up the second pot that was presumably left for him. "Yeah. When he first met Tubbo he asked me to teach him how to press flowers so he could keep the flowers Tubbo used to give him. Don't you remember when he used to give you and Wil flowers when you were little? He even gave me some from time to time as well." Techno nodded. He could faintly remember a younger Tommy running up to him with fists full of wild flowers and forcing them on Techno. Of course, the older boy had just given an irritated sigh at the time and begrudgingly taken them. That being said, he usually got rid of them as soon as Tommy wasn't looking or left them outside. Techno could also vaguely remember the pointed looks that Tommy would give him every time he abandoned the flowers. How Tommy slowly stopped giving him flowers and he just shrugged it off, assuming that it was a kid thing that he was finally growing out of. 

Techno gazed at the pot, silently wondering if there was more to the flower thing than he'd first though. He'd seen Tommy trading flowers with Tubbo when they were both living in Pogtopia. 

Chat started to call him an idiot. 

"I remember up until he and Wilbur left he'd still give me flowers from time to time. Always with some kind of hopeful smile. Sometimes I wonder what he was looking for in my reactions, but I don't think I ever gave it to him. Tommy can actually tell you the name, species name, and symbolism behind just about any flower there is. You didn't know?" Phil said, as he pulled out a bottle of water and carefully spritzed the flowers. 

"No." Techno hadn't known. 

His chest felt cold and tight.

"Oh, he left a card with the names of the flowers. Probably knew we wouldn't know, huh," Phil said. The card itself really sealed the fact this was Tommy's doing, he knew his brother's handwriting anywhere. It was a distinctly wild scrawl while still being legible and almost pretty in some senses of the word. "Hydrangeas, gardenia, tigridias, and the purple flower at the center I actually know is a hyacinth." 

Techno didn't know much about flowers. But he knew almost too much about greek myths. Hyacinths were a flower named for Hyacinthus. 

That was all Techno needed to know for his blood to run cold.

Sam was somehow shocked and yet completely understanding when he found a blonde boy with blue eyes holding flowers in his hands and standing awkwardly outside of Sam's secret base. His hair was dripping with salt water but the flowers in the put looked to be completely fine. Better than fine. They were honestly well taken care of. Tended by fingers that were both gentle and strong, full of emotions that weren't easy to express. 

Tommy hadn't visited Sam's secret base since the very first time Sam had showed it to him with the standing offer of a place to stay if everything went wrong. Everything had gone wrong. Multiple times. Tommy never took that offer and Sam still wasn't sure if it that decision was rooted more in fear or pride. Knowing Tommy it could easily be a blend of both.

"Hey there Tommy, what's this," Sam started carefully like he was dealing with a wounded animal that could make a break at any moment. Tommy's eyes were a clear and relaxed in a way that Tommy hadn't seen since he and Tommy first met. Even then, there was always a tension lingering in the back of Tommy's gaze. 

The tension was replaced with fatigue and Sam decided that neither looked very good on someone as young and bright as Tommy.

That wasn't even addressing the most worrying facet, the color of Tommy's eyes. Sam didn't know if Tommy was a hybrid or something else entirely, but he'd noticed that Tommy's mental state could easily be measured in the sheen of his eyes and the richness of their color. Bright baby blues were the best thing to see. The closer his eyes looked to the sky and the more his hair looked like the sun, the better. That was the way Tommy was supposed to be. But Sam had seen moments where the colors dulled to blues and even stormy gray blues that sent shivers down Sam's spine. The boy's hair completely loosing its glistering qualities. It reminded Sam of a sun hiding behind storm clouds.

This Tommy looked more relaxed at first glance, but a secondary one told the real truth. It wasn't relaxation as much as it was resignation and Sam saw it immediately in the way Tommy's eyes were down cast and almost completely gray. No one else seemed to notice the correlation between eye color and mental state, no one besides Sam and Tubbo. So Tommy awkwardly tried to hide the color of his eyes by blinking for longer periods of time and looking else where.

"A gift," Tommy said carefully, pushing the pot a little closer towards Sam. The flowers were beautiful and not for the first time Sam wished that Tommy had a caretaker who allowed him to bloom in such a manner. Was the kid really so much better at taking care of others than the rest of his family combined?

That was really the crux of the matter. The longer he stared between Tommy and the pot the more he realized that these were probably grown by Tommy himself or at least tended to by Tommy during the later part of their lifetime. Coaxed into bloom for the sake of the gift that made a kind of uneasiness churn in the pit of his stomach.

"What do they mean?" Sam asked as he took the pot.

Tommy straightened up and blink, seeming dazed by the question. A small flicker of bright blue stuck his gaze like lightning before flashing away just as quickly. "You're the first person to ask big man. Are you sure you wanna know? It's kinda silly, and considering the book I used, I dunno if they're all accurate."

"Better you tell me rather than have me guess and guess wrong," Sam said. "After all, I wouldn't want to misinterpret what you're trying to say about me." Same smiled under his mask as Tommy flushed, eyes once again widening in shock.

"How would you know I'm trying to say something about you? Maybe I just liked how the flowers looked. Ever thought of that, bitch?" Tommy snapped quickly. Flustered Tommy was so quick to become defensive Tommy, and Sam really didn't like the implications of what that meant about how people usually treated him when he got embarrassed. The thought of a kid having to defend themselves at every hint of a mistake or sentimentality didn't settle well in Sam's stomach, but he didn't let the discomfort over the idea stain the way he carried himself. Tommy didn't need to think that the slow brewing anger was directed at him.

"You're transparent. It's not a bad thing. Tell me what they mean," Sam said, holding the pot a little closer to his chest. Tommy crossed his arms, pouting slightly. "Tommy you gave me sage, this isn't a typical gift. It's fine though," Sam continued trying to reassure Tommy who flushed even brighter red before slowly unfolding his arms.

"Sage is thoughtfulness, longevity, wisdom, and good health. The other one, the clematis, usually means ingenuity and shit. It's for smart people or something. The hyacinths are a secret. Figure out why I gave the flowers to you yourself!" Tommy again went on the defensive and Sam didn't try to stop him when Tommy fled the scene, the ruby flush going all the way up to the tips of his ears. Let the kid run, he was probably overwhelmed enough. It was some progress though. Sam hoped that Tommy could keep making good progress like that.

Assuming nothing bad happened in the interlude.

Tommy was by definition, Fundy's uncle. The two never really acknowledged it because they were around the same age. That being said, Fundy didn't often treat Tommy like family and that was something Fundy had started to regret a little bit more. Tommy was the only family left that was at least partially sane and the longer he thought about how he sabotaged L'manberg the worse the awful bitterness in his chest started to feel.

Tommy was a brat, but he was still family. Family who Fundy rejected because Tommy couldn't fill the role that Fundy wanted filled. Fundy wanted to be acknowledge by someone, anyone, with some kind of power over him. To make up for the fact he hadn't felt the love and acknowledgement of his own father before he died. He resented Tommy because Tommy was too childish to fill the role. He resented Tommy because Tommy in Fundy's eyes had gotten more attention from Wilbur (bad attention, Fundy had only started to realize after Doomsday when Tommy had a full on breakdown next to Wilbur's shrine, screaming at the man for leaving so many broken pieces he couldn't pick up alone.) He resented Tommy because Tommy seemed so much less hurt and wounded than Fundy, still being able to crack jokes.

Fundy was only just starting to realize maybe Tommy and him were too alike. Maybe Tommy just displayed hurt in a different manner.

Perhaps that was why he felt ever drop of blood in his body freeze when Tommy showed up outside his house with a pot of flowers.

Fundy was one of the only two people on the server who understood the implications of Tommy giving someone flowers. Partially because Fundy had learned the meaning of love from Tubbo and Tommy's interactions when he couldn't learn it from Tommy and Wilbur's. That should have been the first warning sign that maybe Fundy was wrong about his uncle. 

Fundy had never participate in the exchange of flowers between the clingy pair. It was theirs, not his. Unlike Tommy as he aged he learned other way to express his affection for others. He still knew what it meant though so it felt like a brick being throw into his chest when he opened the door and Tommy shoved a flower pot into his face like the outside of it was burning him. Desperate for Fundy to take it off his hands, the searing burden of words he couldn't say but wanted out. Trapped forever inside the thought of the uncle who couldn't ever betray his own feelings and could only give those words a single escape through blooms. 

Fundy immediately recognized the flowers because Tommy and him had been close once upon a time. Tommy knowing each flower's name by heart had meant Fundy was damn near close. He could easily name the contents of the pots because two of them had been given to Fundy as a child by his uncle in a teasing manner. The Foxglove and Foxtail Lilies which accompanied the puffy yellow dandelions didn't feel like they were given in jest like all the other times when Tommy had teased Fundy for being a fox born from a salmon. 

"Ironically, they fit," Tommy said simply, grimacing slightly as Fundy eyed the two fox themed flowers. "I promise I'm not trying to make fun of you," he quickly added on as Fundy admired the purple hyacinth smack dab in the center.

"I know," Fundy said quietly, feeling the true meaning of the flowers radiating from the act.

Tommy nodded choppily and went to turn and leave but Fundy quickly set the pot down and yanked Tommy forward, pulling his last decent family member into a tight hug. He allowed a few tears to escape from his eyes as Tommy hesitantly wrapped his won arms around Fundy, comforting the young fox hybrid as best he could. "Please don't do anything stupid?" 

"I can't promise you that." Fundy could hear the rueful smile in Tommy's voice and he knew. Fundy Knew. After he released Tommy from the hug and his uncle left, Fundy slowly began to prepare himself. Brace himself. The future was going to be rough. It was going to hurt. People were going to be lost. Fundy knew that. So he braced himself for the pain that would soon come in the next couple days when Tommy confronted Dream. Fundy braced himself with the vow to be strong because maybe he couldn't get people to be proud of him. Perhaps he couldn't make people happy, and it hurt to make them sad. So he'd settle for making people less sad. 

He couldn't ever be the sunshine, bright and painful and annoying, but if need be he could at least take up a part of Tommy's mantle in the names of those who were going to need someone as bright as Tommy. 

"What the hell even is this?" Jack asked, trying to keep his tone light and joking. Normal. Him and Tommy had always had that kind of rapport before their falling out so to speak. Joking and bull shitting one another, never taking anything too seriously. So when Tommy showed up with a dour kind of expression Jack tried to act normal and capture their typical dynamic, wondering for half a moment if he and Niki had already been busted. 

Tommy's expression didn't quite change, the younger of the two looking at Jack with a gaze he couldn't really properly pin down.

They'd been friends as kids. He and Tommy had known each other for a long while. Jack had never been as close to the blonde as Tubbo was, but he was close enough to know what Tommy normally acted like. To even know what Tommy abnormally acted like. If there was anyone on the server who could give Tubbo a run for his money when it came to knowing all of Tommy's "tells" so to speak, it was probably Jack.

That's why he'd spent nights awake staring at his roof wondering if Niki and him were doing the right thing. Thinking about the way Tommy's eyes had appeared glazed over and almost foreign when Jack had tried to visit him. Wondering for hours on end if that had even been Tommy and if it was fair for Jack to blame this Tommy who acted so much more like a Tommy for the actions of whoever that boy had been. Jack had seen the way Tommy flinched at Dream and wondered not for the first time how many puzzle pieces he was missing and if he was making a mistake. 

That feeling solidified into a led ball at the pit of his stomach when Tommy quietly made eye contact with him, pulled a flower pot out of his inventory, and handed it to Jack.

Now, Jack didn't know the full story when it came to flowers, Tommy, and Tubbo. But he knew it was something that held a significant amount of importance to the pair. Tommy rarely gave people outside of Tubbo flowers and even then Tubbo rarely got them himself. The last flower that Jack had gotten was for his eighteenth birthday, a gift given with a cheeky grin and a stuck out tongue. Jack had kept the potted plant alive for as long as he possible could and treasured it because he didn't know the meaning but he knew that it was important. The ball in his stomach only got heavier as Tommy continued to hold out the pot for Jack to take. 

"Seriously, Tommy, what is this?" Jack asked. Tone a little quieter, a little more serious.

"A gift. Rock roses and celosia," Tommy said. He didn't mentioned it which drew even more attention the purple hyacinth in the center of the pot, mocking Jack and his lack of fluency in flower languages. He didn't know even so much as one, but he did know that Tommy was fluent in multiple. Listing off meaning after meaning for each flower and plant you could find if prompted. Hyacinths were one of those weird flowers that had a common meaning, but also had variations depending on the color of the bloom. Jack had the awful feeling he was missing part of the message by only knowing the general meaning for the hyacinth, its rulership over the meanings of playfulness and rashness and spring. 

Jack struggled to come up with a response as the pot was carefully pushed into his grip, sitting there burning at the palms of his hands. "I get that, but why?"

Tommy gave a grin without feeling. The usual tongue in cheek kind of mischief that emanated from his smiles had been replaced by some bland copy of the emotion that failed to match their former brilliant. Not for the first time, Jack wondered if what he and Niki were doing was actually the right thing or just a way to vent their own frustrations and sorrows. For the first time he wondered who had broken one of his best friends while his back was turned. 

His jaw worked uselessly as he tried to come up with some kind of response, but Tommy didn't give him much of a chance. The younger turned on his heels with a wave of his hand. "I gotta finish giving out a couple more pots before tomorrow. Bye, Jack."

There was a finality to that bye where Jack would have preferred a see you later. The iron ball in his stomach only grew heavier as he thought about the implications of tomorrow, the day where apparently Tubbo and Tommy would go two against one with Dream. Surely Dream wouldn't take their final lives. He was strict but he was also the admin. Then again, Jack was sure that Tommy's exile would be more of a slap on the wrist and a formality. Next thing he knew the Tommy walking away from him didn't look like Tommy at all. 

The uneasy feeling turned to one of cold anger, Jack's mind trying to pick apart the situation to hash out the pieces that he was missing. Something was wrong, had been wrong for a while. Before he and Niki went any farther he needed to figure out what.

Tommy hated Eret, at least that was Eret's impression. They admittedly hadn't given Tommy the best impression of them. Tommy's first ever life was lost because of Eret's betrayal. They had never meant for that to happen, but what was done was done. All they could do after that was help in whatever ways they possibly could. Even if it meant being dethroned in favor of George only for the situation to grow even more complex as Dream played around, messing things up.

After a long conversation, Eret and George had agreed to a semi co-rulership since George was better at convincing people to listen and Eret was better with the actual policy. It had avoided a war but had only further soured the relationship between Sapnap, George, and Dream which was already decaying thanks to the whole Doomsday situation and Dream's initial willingness to dethrone George to put Eret back in charge. Eret had even heard the pair mention their discomforts over the situation with Tommy and how that was handled after they'd realized just how... wrong Tommy had seemed. There was a lack of energy, a hard to place wrongness that seemed contradictory to Tommy's very being.

It was made all the more complicated by Tommy's strange brand of kindness and honest. He did what should have been impossible and returned Mars to Sapnap. Sapnap and George being two of a pair had talked for a long time after that realized they weren't entirely comfortable anymore with how Dream was acting, let alone how he had and was continuing to act towards Tommy.

Eret was of a similar disposition. They absolutely despised the way that Dream had treated Tommy. While most could see the poorly concealed cracks in Tommy's persona but weren't entirely sure what it meant, Eret saw those cracks for what they actually were. Scars and wounds dripping a noxious ichor, attempting to expel psychological poisons that Tommy had been force fed over his extended stay with both Dream and Techno. 

It was a bit like staring at a creature from the uncanny valley. It was Tommy, but it wasn't Tommy. There were subtle things that were wrong.

That was best emphasized when Tommy showed up at their doorstep with a flowerpot in hand. Holding it out to Eret with a shifting awkwardness. "Epiphyllum, dahlia, and hyacinth," Eret muttered numbly as Tommy attempted to force the pot into Eret's grip. They knew that something was up. They still fought with Tommy for a while before the fateful betrayal, so they knew how Tommy acted when he had a plan he thought was his only option, but a plan he thought was going to cost him dearly. It was the same kind of nervous shifting and huffing that they'd seen in Tommy's posture the day that Tommy challenged Dream to a duel and then proceeded to hand over both his discs when he lost.

Eret didn't like that, not one bit, but there wasn't really much they could do to stop Tommy. Peace offering aside, Tommy was an unstoppable force without an unmovable object anywhere near as powerful as he. When he put his mind to a target plan of action and outcome, there was little that could be done or said to convince him otherwise. Meaning that regardless of the dull and aching fear in Eret's chest, they knew there was nothing they could do to protect Tommy.

He'd already sealed his fate the moment he started handing out flower pots. Eret was just some observer who could at the very least offer comfort. So they did. "And what's this for?" Eret asked with a gentle smile as he cradled the pot close to his chest.

"A gift, for the true King," Tommy muttered and Eret felt a surge of warmth in their chest. If Tommy thought that they were the king, then they were the king.

"Thank you, Tommy. Would you like to stay and talk with me for a while?" They asked, wondering if maybe there was still a chance of offering some support or comfort. Anything really. Tommy just shook his head and they sighed, knowing from the start that was going to be the outcome.

"I've got more flowers to give out still. Are George and Sapnap around?" He asked, kicking at the ground.

"Yeah, they're both hanging out in the west wing of the castle. You should be able to catch them. Go right on in," Eret said. Tommy nodded quietly, rushing away with a little too much speed as he apparently went to deliver a pot of flowers to those two as well. Eret idly wondered if this would be enough to win Tommy some kind of protection for tomorrow, but it didn't settle the nervous energy in Eret's gut. No, they realized, something bad was going to happen no matter what anyone did. That was a promise. All Eret could do was try and make sure as little damage as possible resulted from it. So they're try, for Tommy. 

George and Sapnap weren't sure what to think. Not about Tommy and not about Dream.

Dream was their oldest friend. They'd always been a trio, bound since the start of forever as far as memory could offer. Dream, though, he'd been getting stranger and stranger. More careless of them. More ambivalent towards them. It felt like he wasn't their friend anymore.

Meanwhile there was Tommy. Both had always considered Tommy to be an annoyance, but in the early days they'd also thought of him as a friend. Sure he was loud and brash, but he carried a strange brand of honestly and if you were his friend he'd go to ends of the earth for you. He was earnest in a way a lot of people wouldn't expect, evident in the fact Mars was current sitting in Sapnap's ender chest. Proof to the fact the dynamic between George, Sapnap, and both parties had shifted to an off kilter kind of swirl.

Sapnap didn't like it. He'd try to fix it. But to fix it first he had to consider what was wrong, and he came to the conclusion that something was wrong with Dream. Like he was sick. Sick in the kind of way that Wilbur had been sick towards the end of Pogtopia, but more lucid and aware of his actions than Wilbur had been. Something was also wrong with Tommy who flinched at explosions and looked like he was going to cry whenever Dream said the word friend to him. It left a disgusted kind of feeling in the pit of Sapnap's stomach and he was left wondering what happened. He knew that Dream had been in charge of Tommy's exile. He knew that Dream tended to visit a lot. Sapnap didn't like the implications.

George was stuck with a similar mindset. He didn't like getting involved with conflicts but he didn't like the idea that Tommy was being mistreated. Child or adult, it didn't matter. The idea that Dream might have done something to Tommy and it could technically be sourced back to the fact that George complained about his house to Dream rather than directly to L'manberg left his feeling all kind of uncomfortable. Exile for ten minutes of work didn't seem like an equivalent exchange, regardless of George's status at the time. The implication that Dream had done something to Tommy, the boy who made the sun seem dim, left George wish that Dream was there if only to give them answers.

Dream wasn't there. 

The person who was though? Tommy.

The two jolted when they heard a knock, opening the door to the room they'd been relaxing in only to find Tommy standing outside of the door. "Uh, hey," Sapnap tried to offer a greeting but it didn't seem to help with the kid's rigid posture. Tommy's face shifted from nervousness to an awkward kind of regret before settling on a resolute expression.

"Hey big guy. Tomorrow is kind of important so I brought you and George something. It's not as good a gift as Mars, but, it is kind of an apology. I really miss the early days when things were simple and we could just mess around, but those days were gone. Hoping for them back would be useless at this point, so instead I'm just hoping for when all things are said and done there's no real bad blood between us. Here," Tommy reached into his inventory and pulled out two flower pots.

Both puts were full of coneflowers and balloon flowers. They both had a purple hyacinth at the center of the arrangement. There was a subtle difference between the two pots though. Where George's was adorable with hellebore flowers, Sapnap had a sprinkling of sword lilies throughout the arrangement. 

"Alright, that's all. I have other super important things to do, so, bye," Tommy suddenly blurted, disappearing down the halls of the castle before either George or Sapnap could stop him.

The two sat quietly, looking at the flower arrangements. George was the first to speak up. "I think we've made a mistake," he said quietly. Sapnap could only really nod in response, his voice having died with the tightness in his chest.

Quackity was used to Tommy acting strange. Tommy was a strange person, this was just a simple fact of life. Tommy was a good kid though, as odd and loud as he was. That's why him and Tommy got along. They were both just strange, loud people that other often thought badly of because of their habits or how they acted. It was just their nature, their character.

Quackity had been pretty upset with Tommy after he sided with Techno, but he did kind of get in. In the end they hadn't been able to protect Tommy from Dream. They'd abandoned one of their own to the machinations of what Quackity at least considered to be a mad man in favor of self preservation and that hit a peak when he founded El Rapids and thought time and time again about inviting Tommy to join them in what wasn't L'manberg. In what Tommy couldn't be exiled from. 

Still, though, he could only guess the kinds of thing Dream had done to Tommy based off the short and small interactions he'd had with the entire situation through the lens of Mexican Dream. Quackity was so grateful for the fact he was a shapeshifter, and it was an ability he could abuse. He'd felt deeply unnerved when he visited, considering Tommy's living conditions it wasn't all that strange that Tommy had gone to live with Techno. He couldn't blame Tommy when he himself probably would have done the same if he was that deeply in need, so he didn't blame Tommy. He forgave Tommy and stood beside him on Doomsday while the country he and Wilbur had fought and died for went up in flames, blown to bits. Quackity hadn't been there for the first war of independence. Few people were. But he knew it was something that still deeply haunted and pained Tommy considering the way the younger still talked about it. 

Quackity had seen Tommy do and say a lot of strange things afterwards, but nothing was quite as strange as the pot of flowers quickly shoved into his face by the younger boy without any kind of warning. "What this?" Quackity asked, hesitantly taking the flowerpot from Tommy and noting the way his fingers seemed to shiver for a moment as they relinquished their grip on the terracotta pot. 

"It's a flower big guy, haven't you ever seen one before?" Tommy's usual jesting snark didn't quite hit the mark when he could hardly maintain eye contact. There was something off and Quackity didn't like it. More accurately, he hated it. 

Sure, Quackity had suffered, but Tommy had suffered just as much in ways he really didn't deserver. Quackity was fucked up, but Tommy was fucked up in ways he shouldn't be so for all of Quackity's strangeness and oddities and senseless quirks there was a part of him that really wanted to protect Tommy. A part of him that only grew stronger and stronger the longer he interacted with Karl and Sapnap. The more he started to feel pity for the boy who'd tried to only ever be kind but had received the most cruelties out of the lot of them. 

Quackity could at least partially imagine what Dream had done to him during exile because he'd seen snippets of it. Quackity couldn't even begin to imagine the kinds of horrors that Tommy had faced when he was living in Pogtopia. When he was still living through the revolution.

Quackity could only imagine the agony that had come from Tommy's older brother shoving a sword in his hands and telling him to fight when he should have been doing nothing but playing with Tubbo and enjoying those final few days before he turned eighteen. 

Jesus Christ, Tommy wasn't even eighteen yet and something about that twisted up Quackity's gut like a balloon. It made him want to wretch and cry and scream and wrap up Tommy in a mimicry of Phil's wing and tell him it was going to be okay even though he of all people knew it wasn't going to be okay.

Tommy interpreted Quackity's silence as rejection apparently, quickly shuffling from foot to foot. "It's just a gift, you know? Bougainvillea, orange tulips, and lantana flowers. Nothing really special," Tommy said and his tone of voice was enough to tell Quackity there was something very special about the offering no matter how half heartedly it was given to him. 

"Thank you Tommy. I don't know what they mean though," Quackity said. 

Tommy smiled, a genuine one this time mixed with something of relief. "That's fine. Part of me hopes you won't have to know, but, you'll know soon enough," and there was something so ominous in the way that Tommy said that before turning on his heels and darting away long before Quackity could form a proper response. He was filled with nothing but worries and anxiety as Tommy disappeared, leaving Quackity wondering next time they'd meet would be.

Puffy and Tommy didn't ever really interact. She pitied him after hearing some of the things her duckling had done to him. There was a part of Puffy that wanted to track him down and take care of him because the world was obviously doing a poor job of it. But she'd never been able to, never gotten the chance, and now she was starting to regret it as a boy with eyes too old for his years started into her with a gentle kind of smile that she'd seen before on the faces of men who knew without question they were about to die. 

"Alliums and magnolia," he said simple without much fanfare or explanation. 

Tommy and Puffy had never really known each other, but she'd known from the moment her fingers brushed against the pot she loved him and she would have loved him more with all of her heart if only the world had given her the chance to. If only the world had been kind instead of turning so vicious as to ruin children. 

Puffy sincerely wished they'd met sooner. Maybe she could have been the one to push this story into to a different direction. Maybe she could have been the one to offer some kind of luxury of reprieve, some kind of happiness and joy and love to the poor little boy who honestly looked starved for it. 

That was Puffy's first realization as she looked into Tommy's eyes and took the pot from his hands. He was starving. Left wanting. Wanting for a family. Wanting for kindness. Wanting for someone to take care of him. Given nothing that a regular child was supposed to receive. Of all the children on the server, and this moment of meeting Tommy meant that Puffy had met them all, he was the one left with the least and wanting for the most. From his eyes alone she could tell that he was the one who'd been broken and stepped on and there was nothing she could do about it.

As she looked into his eyes she saw the peaceful glazed expression of someone who'd come to terms with the inevitability of the repeat that was standing over their shoulder and if there was one thing Puffy had learned as queen of the seas, queen of pvp, it was that there was no saving men like Tommy even if they weren't men yet. Even if they were still children who'd barely started to cusp on the realization of what being a man meant. 

She swallowed hard, daring to meet those eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked hesitantly.

"No," he responded simply with a smile much too chipper and warm for that kind of response. "I will be though. I only have two more people to give flowers to. I'll be giving Tubbo's his tomorrow. It's only fitting. Then though, then I think I'll finally be okay. Happy even." The words at peace came to Puffy's mind and sent a small trill of fear racing up and down her spine. The words themselves carried a lot of implications she had neither the will nor the bravery to openly face. 

"I wish you only the best then, in hunting down and finding your peace," she said, putting the pot away in her inventory and placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder. 

Tommy paused, looking up at her. "Strength was a good choice," he muttered quietly, almost seeming to look through her as he made the comment before retreating away from her hand and wandering off to deliver his next set of flowers. Two more people. Two more people, Tubbo, and then for better or worse Tommy Innit would be entirely and completely at peace with himself and his present situation.

It didn't make Puffy feel could to think about a child being "at peace" but what else could she do? The universe had never given Puffy the chance to be a present force in Tommy's life. It had never given her the chance to show up early enough to keep her duckling from straying so far into madness. It had never given her the chance to meet Wilbur, let alone save him from himself and subsequently save Tommy from his decisions. All she could do was hope she'd do better with the others. 

Ranboo's relationship with Tommy was a strange one. He wasn't even really sure how to put it into words properly, the silent tension that sat between the pair yet the almost kind of implicit trust that they shared. He was especially unsure how to feel considering he'd more or less filled the void Tommy had left when he sided against Techno. Ranboo wasn't sure how to feel about that situation either. The same way he wasn't completely sure how to feel about Fundy or Tubbo. 

Every since Ranboo had joined the server he'd managed to get himself smack dab into the middle of some complicated mess. 

At the center of a lot of those complication was Tommy himself. Not that Ranboo particularly blamed Tommy, quite the opposite. He could see and understand the ways in which Tommy had been forced into his current position, propped up like some kind of figure head time and time again. In that way, Ranboo could sympathize with Tommy.

Still, it made it hard to be around the slightly younger boy. Tommy attracted problems in the best and the worst kinds of ways, and as much as Ranboo had wanted to stay by Tommy's side during exile it had been hard for Ranboo to keep them in touch with each other. That was partially on him and, well, partially on Dream if he was actually going to assign blame. Ranboo couldn't blame Tommy for half of his actions between the start of exile and doomsday. 

It did, however, lead to the relationship they'd had at the start splintering and fracturing apart. 

He knew that Tommy didn't blame Ranboo for living with Phil and Techno, but it still made him feel bad at times. There were a lot of thoughts and feelings that went unspoken on both halves when it came to that... 

Ranboo expected not to see Tommy for a long time. He didn't expect to find Tommy wandering around a little ways away from where Techno and Phil lived. He suddenly perked up, noting Ranboo, a nervous half smile making its way across his features. "Ranboo, just the man I was looking for!" He said. Before Ranboo could respond a flower pot of all things was shoved into his hands. Evening primroses, prairie gentians, and a purple hyacinth. 

"What?" Ranboo asked, holding the pot loosely. "What are these for? What do I do with them?" 

"They're for you, obviously, and I don't care what you do with them. Keep them, toss them, burn them ritualistically over a fire to ensure my demise. Whatever you do with them is your business not mine, I was just here to deliver them," Tommy said, disappearing as quickly as he managed to appear. If Ranboo didn't know better given the speed at which Tommy turned on his heels and managed to pull a disappearing act when Ranboo tried to give chase, he'd almost assume that Tommy was an avian hybrid with the ability to fly or an enderman hybrid who could teleport. 

That's be ridiculous though. 

He looked down at the pot in his hands carefully, contemplating what Tommy had told him. 

Well, it was certainly too cold out here for flowers. They'd probably fair better for longer in Ranboo's house.

Punz didn't find himself crossing paths with Tommy. What he did find, was a chest with a flower pot on top of it. Now, Punz didn't know much about flowers, nor did he understand their significance to Tommy in particular, but something about the flowers struck him as he looked at the chest. A small book laid beside the flowers. The flowers themselves tucked carefully in the pot were better cared for than most of the flowers on the server in Punz's opinion. 

While there had been a flower shop or two in the server's life span, relatively few people on the server knew how to care for flowers outside of the hardier ones that could sprout from the rot and destruction left in the wake of the server's more powerful players. Most people struggled to get flowers outside those few to grow, their unique habits and needs lost on the majority of those present on the server.

Punz had never seen the flowers sticking out of the pot, at least most of them, and he had a feeling they were probably better cared for their average. As opposed to the dusty and half wilted petals of most flowers on the server, these ones were going strong. Their petals glossy and firm rather than hours from withering. He opened the book next to the flower pot. Jasion, blue globe glow thistle, meadowsweet, baby blue eyes, purple hyacinth. Those were the flowers sticking out of the pot, Punz gathered. 

He kept reading the book, an uneasy feeling growing in his chest. Dear Punz, this isn't a payment. Not in the traditional form. It's more so a request. I already know what's going to happen tomorrow, at this point I've been waiting for a while. This was always an inevitability. My biggest worry is what comes after. So as a friend, I'd like to make a request of you big man. Keep an eye on Tubbo. To you I send this gift and wishes of justice. Take it however you please.

The book was left unsigned, but Punz recognized the hand writing even if the language used was a little... strange. Tommy but off kilter. Twisted to the left. 

Opening the chest was an entirely different brand of whiplash for the mercenary. Tommy was supposed to be the poorest person on the server, right? And yet, when Punz opened the chest he was greeted with gold and diamonds in block form, not to mention netherite siting in the center. Even tnt which if Punz knew anything about Tommy, it was his aversion to the stuff. That was probably what started raising the hairs on the back of Punz neck a while ago.

As a mercenary, it was his job to know a lot about the other people on the server. Catalogue their fears and turn them into advantages for himself. Tommy was scared of tnt, explosions in general really. It was plain to see, even before doomsday when he looked like he was about to cry every time a piece blew up a little too close to him. Tommy was scared of a lot of things. Blackstone, small spaces, explosions, withers, the kid was messed up beyond what was a reasonably acceptable degree. Which is what made the community center exchange so chilling. There wasn't a person in the entire encounter who was reasonable enough to realize Tommy wouldn't have blow up the community center because Tommy wouldn't get within fifty chunks of an explosion, not willingly. 

He wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the kid. It wasn't his job to have the full story. He did, however, know that Tommy was supposed to be poor. 

Tommy was supposed to be poor and he was pretty certain that nothing in this chest was stolen. He would have known if it was. Someone on their coms would have been complaining about Tommy, but the communicators were as void of his name as they had been during his exile. It set him on edge.

The whole kind of resigned tone of the letter didn't help either. The poorest person on the server suddenly dropping more cash than Dream had ever paid Punz collectively over the course of the entire server's lifespan. Not even asking for help but asking Punz to keep an eye on Tubbo once everything was said and done? It didn't sit right. 

Punz would have to think about this...

In Tubbo's opinion, the day of the final confrontation came too soon. Neither he nor Tommy was entirely prepared for what was going to happen, for what fates were going to befall them. A heavy weight had settled inside of Tubbo's chest despite the false air of confidence he was putting on in the face of a rather resigned Tommy. As if he knew something he wasn't quite saying. Tubbo didn't like it. 

If either of them was to die today, shouldn't it be Tubbo?

Yet there was a gentle air to Tommy as he and Tubbo walked around saying their goodbyes. Something relaxed to him in a way he hadn't been since long before even Wilbur joined the serve. A kind of levity with which he smiled, the confused occupants of the server being uncertain if they should return or now. If he was being honest, Tubbo almost hated it. He wasn't used to this borderline quiet and almost melancholic Tommy. 

Right before they were about to leave, Tommy paused, turning towards Tubbo with another gentle smile. "I have one last thing I wanted to give you," he said with such gentleness to his voice and such a disgustingly fond expression that it churned Tubbo's stomach.

A lot of people couldn't handle Tommy. Couldn't read his tells. He rubbed them the wrong way because of it. Tubbo though, he'd been able to read his Tommy from moment one. Had known the boy like the back of hand the moment he'd presented the first flower. Had watched the overwhelming warmth and affection Tommy just didn't know how to vocalize roll off of him in waves whenever they found a quiet moment alone and it was just them. Free from the world with its cold fingers and cruel hands. There are a lot of people on the server who'd openly prefer this version of Tommy. Tubbo outright detested it. 

Perhaps the one thing that kept Tubbo from hating this version of Tommy completely was the fact that he pulled a flower pot from his inventory. A flowerpot completely full of flowers. 

Celosia, twinspur, Peruvian lily, fawn lily, plantain lily, zinnia, and a single purple hyacinth as the center piece. Tubbo didn't know all the meanings for all the of the flowers, but he knew they all held one common tie that stalled the breath in his throat. All except for the hyacinth, mocking and purple of all things. Why purple? Why did it have to be purple? Of all people, Tommy was the one person on the server who shouldn't have to hand out things like hyacinths stained purple. 

Yet, here he was, silently offering the pot to Tubbo and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot like Tubbo would reject it. The boy did not, instead quickly tucking it away in to his inventory where it was safe and sound. He didn't have a gift to offer in return, not a planned out, but without any hint of hesitation he leaned down, snapping a flower at its stem and offering it to Tommy. 

It was a non descript wildflower, just your average bloom, but Tommy held it with reverence, a quiet "thank you" rolling off his tongue in a way that felt unnatural to Tubbo. 

His Tommy didn't say thank you. Didn't look like he was marching off to his death. Didn't look so resigned and peaceful while doing it... Tubbo hated this! Yet, he knew in the end there was nothing he could do and nothing he'd be able to do when they eventually reached Dream. He was always the sidekick, the pawn. He just dreaded the fact that sometimes pawns weren't sacrificed before their kings. That terrified Tubbo more than death if he was being honest with himself. 

He knew that when the time came he'd be able to calmly look Tommy in the eye and tell him that if Tubbo himself was gone, Tommy would just continue to be Tommy. Which he knew to be a truth because Tommy was strong and powerful in ways Tubbo never could have been. Tubbo didn't think that a world without Tommy held the same answer for him. 

He'd rather death then a world without Tommy.

Tommy put the flower away in his own inventory before taking a deep breath, straightening his back (too straight, his Tommy always slouched), and nodding at Tubbo. "Come on. Let's go."

Tubbo nodded silently, the dread in his stomach refusing to let up even when the final battle against Dream began. He could feel the dreadful wrongness in the pit of his stomach, hence why he yelled for Tommy to take the discs and flee. It was to no avail. Dreadfully loyal to the end, there was a small pang in his chest when Tommy proved in a situation where he could have favored greed Tubbo was more important that the discs. 

He almost wished he wasn't. 

Dream was in full control as Tubbo said his goodbyes. At least that was what Dream and Tubbo though. 

Tommy thought otherwise. 

For all his screaming and crying and wailing for his best friend, Tubbo could see the glint of something in Tommy's eyes. Every since Dream mentioned killing Tubbo all of his bravado and screaming had felt more and more like acting. Something that Dream didn't notice, but Tubbo who'd known Tommy since before he'd known himself noticed right away. The sickly feeling inside of Tubbo's gut did not let up, not for a second as Dream stalked closer to the pair who were half whispering goodbyes and half begging this not to be their goodbye. 

Tommy pressed his forehead against Tubbo's for a long, silent second as Dream tapped his foot against the floor in agitation. 

Once the moment was over Tommy turned to Dream with the deadest eyes Tubbo had ever seen. Perhaps they weren't gray, as they were prone to changing whenever Tommy grew well and truly hopeless, but there was an unnatural ice to their hue that wasn't typically there. "I hope you understand that if you kill Tubbo, I'm next. No matter what either of you say I'll always be next. Because Tubbo is enough to be able to live on without me, but I'll never be whole enough, unbroken enough, to live on without Tubbo. I hope you understand that Dream. No matter what you do or say, if you take away Tubbo, I'm next." 

Dream scoffed. "Tommy, I know you won't kill yourself even if I take away Tubbo. Why? Because you're a coward. A stupid little coward. You weren't brave enough to off yourself during exile, what makes you thing you're brave enough now? You'll never die, and I'll never let you go. We're going to have fun together forever Tommy. You belong to me, just like you were always supposed to."

Dream raised his sword, staring down Tubbo as Tubbo braced himself for the impact. He felt Tommy's grip on his hand tightening, glad that had the very least he'd be able to stay close to Tommy in his final moments. 

The dread in his stomach however solidified. Like the ugly oracle his sixth sense was, as the blade came down directed as Tubbo's head he suddenly felt his weight shifting. The blade made no contact, but he could feel its impact as both he and Tommy were toppled over and Dream yowled out a noise that was somewhere between anger and shock. 

"I warned him, Tubzo. If he takes you I'll go second. If he tries to take you, we'll, he should have realized I'd find a way to try and go first," Tommy said. Tubbo barely registered the breathy and pained voice of his best friend over the ringing in his own ears. Wet crimson, growing tacky as it left trails along his skin, dripped down but it wasn't his. He wrapped his arms around Tommy only to find the source of the crimson his back, gushing out and lethal.

Tubbo sat up slowly, listening to Tommy whimper as he moved them both. Watching the younger blonde's face contort with pain as Tubbo finally caught sight of the wound on his back. Dream completely stalled out, just watching the exchange as though he was trying to reboot. 

"Why?" Tubbo asked, holding Tommy closer as all his fears from earlier turned into a reality and slammed down onto his shoulders, making his choke out sobs while he tried not to shiver. Not to jostle the already dying Tommy and cause him more pain. Dying. The words become real as Tommy started looking like he was struggling to take each breath and a fresh wave of grief managed to overpower Tubbo's shock. 

Tubbo had thought he'd lost Tommy once before. The grief he felt finding the tower in Logstedshire had shaken him to his core. That had been nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the fresh wave of pain he felt after thinking about how he'd promised himself he'd never lose Tommy again even if it cost him his own life. Thinking about how at least he hadn't been there to watch with the tower. At least there hadn't been a body with the tower.

Now there was a slowly dying body, his best friend, sitting in his lap while Tubbo clinged to him like it would force him to stay in the realm of the living. 

"You have more to live for then I do. The moment the rest of my family showed up on the server? Yeah, that was it for me. You thought? You've got so much more left Tubbo. Regardless of everything else on this server, all the grief and hurt... You were always meant to be. Okay? So go out and "be" for the both of us, yeah?" Tommy took a stuttering breath which ended in a cough. He tensed up once more in pain before his entire body finally relaxed, his expression becoming borderline blissful.

Just like that it was over. Tommy's body dissolved and puffed away into particles within moments, leaving nothing behind but the items he was carrying on him at the time. Despite Dream having forced them to empty their inventories, there was still some stuff there. Flowers. Aside from the one Tubbo had gifted him which much like Tubbo and his own pot he'd kept squirreled away, there were a number of different flowers scattered around.

The flowers which Tommy had given himself.

Bird of paradise, milkweed, hyssop, golden bell, rain lily, and an entire bundle of purple hyacinths. 

It was the purple hyacinths that Tubbo picked up, cradling close to his chest with a small squeak of a noise. The flowers felt cool to the touch, nothing like his lovely and vibrant Tommy. So full of hope, of life, of fire. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the silently and uncaring air and he held the purple blooms ever closer like he was scared the almost shell shocked Dream would take them.

Punz and the rest of the server burst through the portal just as Tommy's death message appeared on their communicators, dinging much too cheerfully for the news it had announced. They all paused, stalling with mixed expressions of shock and horror before turning to Tubbo and Dream. The later looming over the former menacingly while Tubbo cried into his flowers. Tommy's flowers.

The server approached quietly, apprehending Dream quickly and agreeing Pandora's box was suiting place for him. 

Only when they'd taken Dream out of the room did Tubbo throw his head back and with all the emotions trapped inside him did he wailed. Wailed until his throat went raw and every person and every God in this forsaken realm knew of the great tragedy that was TommyInnit's death.  Only when Tubbo could taste metal and couldn't manage more than a rasp did he fall to silence, picking up the last item Tommy had dropped. A simple book titled flowers. 

He handed the book off to the nearest person who opened it up and visibly winced. "I think we're going to have to call a meeting," he heard Puffy mutter quietly. At least, he thought she was muttering, but it felt like his head and ears were full of cotton so he couldn't be sure. It was Puffy who he passed out against when his body was finally drained of the energy and adrenaline born from his grief. 

Ghostbur shuffled hesitantly feeling multiple sets of eyes on him. He smiled nervously as the whole of the server was gathered round, eyes trained on the lone book Tommy had left behind. Some had joked about it being How To Sex 3, the final entry to the trilogy and the last chapter of Tommy's life closed with a giggle. Puffy, however, had shot down the assumptions even if she let the jokes slide since they could all agree at the very least Tommy was the kind of person who would have wanted jokes to be told at his funeral. 

"For a number of reasons, I'm the person who's been elected to read this to rest of the server. In a way, this is Tommy's last will and testament, as well as his final goodbyes. Out of the people who've tried to read it so far, I'm the only one who's been able to get through it without, without uhm, without breaking down..." Ghostbur shuffled awkwardly, looking half dazed like he was already blocking out the memories of reading it for the first time. That was partially how he was able to manage it. Immediately blotting out the words from his thoughts the moment they passed his lips. 

"To everyone. If you're reading this, I died. Sucks I couldn't get good like Technoblade, but I kind of saw this coming. Which is why most of you received flowers. Those of you who didn't like Bad or Ponk, I simply couldn't manage to find in time. For that I apologize, but understand that it was my wish to try and leave everyone on the server with a pot of flowers so if you go to my house you should be able to find yours, as well as an associated note. The message that I'm writing for your now is a list of the flowers as well as their meanings."

"Aka, why I decided to give what flowers."

"As a lot of you can attest, I'm kinda shit at this whole feelings thing. But since this is kinda the last time I'll see any of you and I don't have to really deal with the repercussions of it, I've decided that for my final message I can at least try to be honest. Give this feelings thing and shot and... get all of that out in the open air."

"I know that I'm not and haven't ever been good at feelings. Call it a burden of the family I grew up with. Fundy can attest to what I mean by that, and at this point, Tubbo probably can do. I just, it doesn't feel good leaving something unsaid. Leaving relationships half spoken. I don't want there to be any mistakes made. I considered everyone on this server a precious friend. Whatever bad blood you thought was between us was mostly misunderstanding and my inability to properly talk this stupid emotional shit out. Which is where the flowers come on."

"The first gift I ever received, the first real gift if I'm being honest, was a flower. A lot of you probably thought I hated them, which to some degree I do. But that's because I love them just as much. I speak their language and they speak mine, but outside of blood and cursing it's the only language I ever learned to speak. I couldn't ever figure out a way to talk to all of you that you'd ever understand. My words have always been easy for Dream to twist. It's my hope that, speaking in my own tongue, you might be able to understand me. If only once."

"To start off with, to Ghostbur I gave two pots of flowers. One for him, one for Alivebur. To Ghostbur I gave spider lilies, regular old lilies, and calla lilies. I also gave him a hyacinth, but I gave everyone one of those. They're special to me, I'll explain it last. Lilies are flowers often associated with grieving, but also the process of moving on. Spider lilies are the flowers traditionally offered on graves as a sign of death and remembrance. Regular lilies and calla lilies I offered to Ghostbur as they both represent purity, regular lilies especially speaking to the innocence of the soul. Calla lilies were something I debated adding for a while. They mean rebirth and resurrection. I don't think that you should bring back Alivebur. Alivebur wasn't okay in the last part of his life. But Ghostbur and Alivebur both need a chance to move on and heal. It's my hope that with me gone and hopefully all of you sick of Dream, Ghostbur will finally also be able to move on. Be reborn, somewhere hopefully happier."

"To Alivebur, I offered petunia, rhododendrons, and wolfsbane. In the last part of Alivebur's life he was hurting and he because of that he hurt others. I pitied him, but what he did also wasn't okay. He left people like myself and Niki with a lot of unaddressed trauma. So my final gift to him are flowers that mean anger, danger, and caution. Flowers that mean misanthropy, Wilbur's greatest feeling towards the end of his life. But I also added petunias because aside from anger and resentment, two of the feelings I most strongly associated with Alivebur, they also represent hope. I hope in another future, another life time, the two of us can meet and be family again."

"To Niki, I offered orchid cactus and white chrysanthemums. I felt the need to give you orchid cactus because of its meaning. Admiration, patience, and good spirits. I always thought of you as my older sister, to a degree I still do. You showed me patience no one could match, and you were kinder than anyone else. I admired you. I offered you chrysanthemums because their means of friendship, loyalty, and happiness, something I regret not offering more to you. Instead I give this flower to you in hopes of someone else doing what I should have done. The reason the flower is white is because in some cultures it means mourning and death. We both understand why I offered you this flower in particular. And you know what? I understand, entirely. I offered you these flowers with nothing but love in my heart for the big sister I wish I'd known how to better love back." 

"To Techno and Phil, I gave you the same three flowers. Hydrangea, gardenias, and tigridia or tiger flowers. Hydrangeas and gardenia are how I still feel about the two of you. Familial love, gratefulness, purity, joy. Gardenia's specifically for secret love. The fact that I love you, my own family, wasn't something I felt I was allowed to feel. Allowed to say. How to express the fact I love you was something you never taught me which is why I think our relationships ultimately fell apart. Techno and I said I loved you in very different ways, and when Techno offered to give me back to Dream, a man who physically, mentally, and emotionally abused me, I panicked. That was the start of the end. That's also another part of why I chose hydrangeas, for their honesty but also their vanity and boastfulness. Tiger flowers for their cruelty. Neither of you ever wanted to listen to me. Neither of you ever thought I'd be wrong. Neither of you even hesitated for one fucking second when when it came to the idea of taking away my own, the one fucking thing on this planet I had left of Wilbur. None of us listened to each other, but you've been ignoring me for a lot longer than I've been ignoring you. It hurts how much I can still love the both of you." 

"To Sam, I gave you salvia and clematis, leather flowers. Our interactions with one another were limited, but I could always tell that you were one of the people who cared. That's why salvia, thoughtfulness, felt fitting. Salvia also carries with it longevity, wisdom, and good health, the things which I wish onto you. Clematis is something I gave you as a laurel of sorts. It's a flower that speak to ingenuity, a flower often given to those with amazing minds. I think out of everyone on the server, you are one of the best to give this flower to. There are days I wish I'd taken your offer during the first couple days in Logstedshire, before Dream broke me and I went to Techno. Now I realize I only went to Techno because Dream mentioned Techno. I was never free from him. I genuinely wish sometimes that I'd gone to you."

"To Fundy, the nephew who I didn't love enough, I gave you dandelions, foxglove and fox tail lilies. As much as I adore the joke, the meanings I gave to you with these flowers are genuine. Instead of giving you praises or speaking of our relationship, instead I gave you wishes for the future. You've been hurt so much, more than you deserve. Dandelions are flowers that mean happiness, joy, and youth. As well as perseverance, endurance, and determination. Fox tail lilies also mean endurance! My most important gift to you are the foxgloves. With them I wish to you protection and healing. Be happy, okay? I wish I'd loved you harder, wish I'd protected you more, wish that Wilbur had been there for the both of us. What happened? It wasn't fair. Neither of us deserved what we got. I wish I could have at least given you something slightly better than what I got."

"To Jack, the first thing I offer is an apology. At the time of my offense I didn't realize how I'd hurt you. And you know? That was kinda shitty of me. So that's the first thing I offer. The second thing I offer is rock roses and celosia. Rock roses like their name implies are flowers that mean endurance, strength, and determination. Celosia, well, they're flowers that mean a lot of things. Affection, warmth, humor, friendship, and most importantly, immortality. These two flowers are everything I saw in you, still see in you. I'm sorry things ended up the way they have. I'm sorry I could apologize properly as ironic as that is. But understand that I thought the world of you, more than you might have understood at the time. As I leave you with celosia, I leave you with the wish that you're always loved, your sense of humor never dies, you get a future surrounded by friends, and that your flame never dies. Like a phoenix."

"To Eret, I offer you orchid cactus and dahlias. I've already mentioned the meanings of the orchid cactus, and I give it to you for much the same reason I offered it up to Niki. When you left L'manberg, it hurt. But you've tried so hard since then. Realized you were wrong and tried to prove yourself and redeem yourself time and time again. Eret, you already have. To the true king of the server, I offer up dahlia's in honor of your elegance, your dignity, your confidence, and your pride. I'm not around anymore, big man, so you gotta be in charge. Don't let the server burn around you, not like Dream did. Make something good of it so the people around you are happy."

"To Sapnap and George, I offered you both almost the same flowers with one key difference. To both of you I offered cornflowers and balloon flowers. Cornflowers, encouragement and motivation, are my hopes for your future. I know that he situation with Dream sucks. It hurts. Realizing someone wasn't who you thought they were always is. The both of you are strong though and you have to help Eret now or else I'll come back to haunt you. Balloon flowers are what I wish our relationship could have been like. Friendship and honesty. If I'm being honest, the first couple days on the server were fun. You were both cool and Dream acted like a big brother. I miss that. I wish it could have lasted. To Sapnap in particular I gave you sword lilies. Strength, honor, moral integrity, and strong character. Some of these you have, others you're still growing into. But you're trying which is more than some of the people I've met can say. Keep trying, this server needs you. To George I offered Hellebores, serenity, tranquility, and peace. Three things that represent George perfectly. On the flip side, though, its a flower that can mean anxiety and scandal. Don't keep sleeping through everything big. The people here need you like they need Eret. Don't let someone else end up like me."

"To Quackity, you bitch, I'm giving you bougainvillea and orange tulips. Passion, liveliness, life experience, energy. All things that represent you, Big Q! You've gotta be the bright beacon of joy and awesomeness without me around. I do want to leave you with a warning though. Lantanas are a poisonous flower that speaks to being too severe. Be careful when you decide to be harsh in your judgements. Be fair, be righteous, and don't turn into Schlatt. You've got people that love you. Keep them close and hold on to them."

"To Puffy, I offer an interesting pair of flowers. Allium and magnolia. Strength, patience, prosperity, and good fortune alongside longevity, perseverance, and nobility. All things I think of you or either wish onto you. Our paths didn't cross often if at all, but in the end I knew you were trying. You were trying, so please keep trying. I know that you understand what life has been like for us kids on the server. I could see it in your eyes pretty early on. I'm trust you. Okay?"

"To Ranboo, instead of talking about our relationship like Fundy I'm leaving you with wishes. Evening primrose and prairie gentian. Protection, youth, love, happiness, joy, and peace. The final meaning of the prairie gentian is gratitude, the one thing I have left to offer you. Exile was tough. But you tried. Our letter are the one thing that kept me sane for a long, long time. For all my loud actions and harsh words, I was scared. Exile genuinely terrified me. It was a living hell, and I don't regret for a moment making sure you didn't end up there with me or worse. No matter what I did, Dream would have found any excuse to get me under his thumb, so don't blame yourself either. You were as good a friend as you could be for how short a time we've known each other. By the way, check our raid chest. I kept the first allium. I said that I hated flowers. It was half a lie and half the truth. It was the best gift you could have ever unknowingly given me."

"To Punz, this is a bit awkward. Hopefully you're reading this and that means you saved Tubbo. Yay! I didn't honestly expect anyone to come and save me though. So this is okay. This is fine. I don't blame you. When I gave you the jasione flowers, wishing for justice and rightfulness, it wasn't you saving me I was hoping for. It was you saving Tubbo, you turning against Dream, you saving the server. Please, if there's one thing I could ask of you, keep everyone safe, especially Tubbo. I think he's the one good thing I'm leaving behind. With echinops I wish you independence and nobility. With meadowsweet I wish you wealth, prosperity, the fortune. With baby's blue eyes, I wish you victory and success in this last request I'll make of you."

"Tubbo. You are the one person I've been dreading getting to as I've been writing this book. I have so many things and so very few pages. With all the flowers I gave you, you probably already saw the common trend. Each flower meant friendship in some capacity. You are the best thing I found on this god forsaken earth, the first person that convinced me love wasn't just some made up bed time story. You are my best friend, always will be and always have been. Even if you replace me, you'll always be my first place. The rest of the meanings of these flowers are either things I felt for you, like devotion, or wishes I have for you, like protection and freedom. Live. Be happy. You're the first and last thing I'll ever love. I hope that you receive my final gift, that someone got there in time to save you. That you get your life and your freedom back. You were never the side kick just like I was never the hero. We were a pair of children who never got to act like it. So I'm at least going to give your childhood back to you. Even if it costs my life."

"In terms of the flowers I did, or I guess will since I'm writing this now, drop when I die. I knew this was going to happen, anticipation, golden bell. I've been waiting for the freedom I was too scared to grasp in exile. Hyssops are flowers of protection, but also sacrifice. This is how the story was always meant to go. At least for me. I leave you with milkweed, a flower meaning remembrance, dignity, freedom. Bird of paradise also means freedom, alongside immortality. I thought it was fitting. Picking flowers that speaks of freedom and immortality or talking about new beginnings and big expectations like rain lilies. Talking about happiness and joy like rain lilies. This was always coming, this was my fate from the start. But, instead of letting it play out slow, I'm taking hold of my fate on my terms. Dream was the one destined to kill me. But like this I can be free. No regrets, no fears, no reason for you to trust Dream. I'm free. All of you are free. I've been waiting so, so very long. I hope that all of us can meet again in the next life over. I had fun in the good moments, I'd like to have more of them next time."

"For the final flower, my flower, the hyacinth. It's a flower that represents me, talking about playfulness and rashness. It's a flower that hopefully represents my relationship to all of you now that maybe you understand how  I feel a bit better, the rebirth of at least your understanding of me. Purple hyacinths though? They're a special flower. When Apollo killed his lover Hyacinthus, they hyacinth was born. It was an accident on Apollo's part, and a murder on the part of another god who'd grown jealous of Apollo having Hyacinthus to himself. The purple hyacinth is a special flower because it means I'm sorry. Which is why I offer it to all of you."

"My flower, the hyacinth, my apology to the server. For all my wrongs, for all my failings, for all the ways everyone hurt. Take this apology, move on, be happy. And for the love of whatever God actually comes to claim my sorry ass, don't start anymore pointless fucking wars. Let yourself and the people around you be happy for once in this server's lifespan."

Over the course of the reading people broke into tears, eyes filling up with regrets as the boy who'd they all thought so little of wrote so much. 

Ghostbur disappeared after that, fading into nothing as though there was no reason left for him to remain. No ghosts of Tommy ever appeared, the boys final unfinished business neatly wrapped up in a leather bound book. 

As such, life was forced to move on, and it did. The members of the server watched each other's backs, watched over Tubbo who tried more than once to follow Tommy, watched over the children, watched over the new members who came to the server. They watched, they moved on, and life continued because time doesn't wait for people to grieve. It doesn't wait for the death. Life continued, but not without the aching twinge brought to the hearts of those who'd came to both love and hate a loud mouthed and feisty blond. Taken from the world far too soon.