Work Text:
Tommy was used to the static.
It was his own form of comfort.
It brought him comfort in a way nobody could mimic.
Dream was comfort too, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t understand.
He didn’t understand that the world wasn’t gonna wait for him.
Dream had found Tommy in the abandoned home of his childhood, and took him in.
He was a mentor to Tommy. A brother, in a way.
(He had a brother once.)
-
He had three things.
A bucket hat, a wooden sword, and two pieces of string.
The bucket hat had been given to him the last time he saw his father. (Did he deserve to be called father?)
As much as he didn’t remember anything about his past, he always kept it in his backpack.
He wore it a few times.
It felt like an accessory.
The wooden sword had been left behind in his old home. He took it, to try and remember any good memories of him before they left with his father.
He kept it in his enderchest, and held it a few times whenever he was in a bad mood.
It felt like nothing more then a child’s toy.
The pieces of string always stayed in his enderchest. He was afraid somebody would try and take it.
The string had been a piece of his brothers guitar. Tommy had snapped one string by mistake when attempting to play, and ending up keeping it.
It felt like home.
(Like someone would wait for him.)
He didn't remember any of them. He didn't want to.
(Maybe he did.)
-
"We're gonna go visit a few friends of mine. I commissioned a sword for them to make." Dream had stated one day, as they were packing.
Tommy hummed in confirmation, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders and making sure each of his tools were snug on his weapon belt.
"Names?"
"Phil and Techno. I've told you about Techno a few times. Y'know, that guy I fought for a few grands."
"The one you lost to." Tommy snorted.
"That was one time! We've fought more then that and I've won." The older gave him a light shove as they headed out the door.
"Okay Dream, okay."
With a cheeky grin, they left, making jokes and each other laugh along the way.
-
Tommy was used to travelling long distances. Mountains, tundra's, deserts. He could take on anything.
When Dream had taken him in, he was around thirteen. Dream spent about six months in a cabin training him to get adjusted to survive certain area's. As soon as he was ready, they we're off, exploring new places and meeting new people.
The pair were trudging through the cold, dragging each other across the snow. The Sun was setting, so they'd have to seek shelter soon.
"What type of swordsmith lives in an isolated snow biome?" Tommy grumbled. Dream offered only a shrug, continuing on. "Were almost there, so it doesn't matter."
And right he was. In the distance, they could see lanterns and an average sized house, with smoke coming out the chimney.
Reaching it, they shook the snow off their boots and coats and knocked on the door. Loud shuffling could be heard before a blonde man answered the door with a soft smile. "Dream! How've you been?"
"I've been good. Nothing special has happened lately. We did kill the ender dragon again this week." The older ones shared a hug, patting each other on the backs before separating. The man looked over at Tommy, keeping his smile as he held out a hand. "Phil." He inspected his hand (you never know what sick freaks have done with it) and grabbed it, looking back up at Phil. "Tommy."
The man stiffened, hesitating before shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Same to you."
-
The two were in the room they asked Phil to stay in, not wanting to try and find a cave.
Dream was wiping the detailed sword with a cloth, despite it already being clean, on his bed, his mask discarded on the floor. Tommy sat on the side of his own bed, leg bobbing up and down.
"I'm gonna go outside." He stated, breaking the silence. Dream grunted in response.
Tommy grabbed his sword from his weapon belt and the bucket hat and wooden sword from the backpack and enderchest placed in-between the beds. He pushed past the door and made his way upstairs, not bothering on saying something to Phil as he passed him, who seemed to be deep in thought in the dining room.
Outside, the boy fell on the ground against the stone wall, ignoring the snow falling on him. He placed the hat on his head and gripped both swords in his fist, the wooden one with a bit more intensity.
Tommy was mad.
He didn't know why, but he was.
He usually took his anger out on mobs, as unhealthy as it is.
-
It was about 3 A.M. when a figure approached him.
Tommy swung his sword at it.
As it dodged and pointed it's own sword at his neck, he realized it was another human, or what seemed to be a human with tusks and pointed ears. (Was that pink hair? How long has he been out here-)
"Oh."
"And you are?" The other muttered with a rough voice and an accent similar to Dream's.
"I'm with Dream. I assumed you we're a mob, so apologies."
They lowered their sword, thankfully, and sheathed it. The man stared at him before turning to the mob drop's littered across the snowy floor.
"Your going to catch a cold if you're out here any longer," they finally responded. Tommy only snorted and responded, "I'm used to low temperatures. It's fine."
After another more minutes of silence, he trudged back in the direction of the house, bending down to pick up the bucket hat and wooden sword.
The other followed after him, letting them both in once they were at the door.
Dream and Phil we're sitting together at the same table, turning their attentions to the door.
"It seems you've met Techno, Tommy."
His friend eyed him down, grimacing before turning his attention back to him. "Leave the boots at the front door and wash yourself off. I'm not sleeping in the same room as you if you smell like blood, zombies, and skeletons."
He let out a chuckle, throwing his boots off and placing them by the door. The younger handed him the bucket hat and swords, staring at his own bloodied sword before looking back at Dream. "Wash those off, will you?"
Dream was about to protest but Tommy had already left the room, waiting for a few moments around the hall to see what they would talk about.
A voice sounded, most likely Techno. "Where did he get that sword."
Why would his concern be on a sword? Odd fella.
"He had it with him when I found him, along with the bucket hat. Apparently, his dad and brother abandoned him when he was nine. Stupid bastards, who would leave their own child behind?"
Choosing to not linger around, he entered the bathroom and cleaned himself off, taking a cold shower.
Tommy never liked talking about his past, or somebody else talking about it.
-
"You think that Tommy is your son?"
Phil nodded, rubbing his eyes with his palm. "As much as I wanna deny it, all the evidence points to him. His name, his blonde hair and blue eyes, Techno's first sword, my own hat for goodness sake- and him being left there at nine, which is when we left-"
"If that's the case, we'll leave." Dream stood up, fixing his mask before turning to leave.
"Wh- why?"
"You two were the ones who abandoned Tommy, the ones who gave him Separation anxiety disorder. It was diagnosed by a doctor!" He spat, turning back around. "You left him behind at such a young age. I could see his ribs when I found him! And for what? Some adventure? You think at nine-year old is able to live on his own without somebody caring for them?"
Dream glared at them, not waiting for a response as he went back to their room. Tommy was laid down on his bed with no shirt, a few scars littered across his chest from how many times they fought in arenas just for fun.
"Tommy, let's go."
He complied thankfully. (He would usually pout and whine about not wanting to go outside in the snow.) The boy grabbed their backpack from the corner of the room and pulled out a shirt and hoodie from it, throwing it on himself.
"How come we're leaving?" The boy huffed as they gathered their things, mainly Dream who was expecting to stay longer as he was friends with these people.
(Keyword, was.)
"I discovered something about them, and I'd rather us not be around them anymore."
"And the sword?"
"I'm not giving it back."
-
A hand gripped Tommy's sleeve, trying to hold him back.
"Tommy, please, stay with us!"
He ripped his arm away, eyeing them.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm not staying with people I don't even know."
Phil was attempting to get them to sit down and talk as they tried to leave, with Techno only watching in the background with eyes concentrated on Tommy.
"Your my son!"
-
Tommy was used to the static.
Even if he couldn't hear anything when he heard it, it was nice.
Especially at a time like this.
Everybody was moving around him, shouting and shoving and pointing swords.
Tommy couldn't hear anything they we're saying.
(He's not sure if he even wants to.)
His hand gripped harder around the bucket hat and wooden sword Dream had handed him as they we're about to leave, his own sword being messily cleaned and secured in his belt.
What was it that Phil guy said? Tommy was his son?
The static increased to an uncomfortable volume.
Phil didn't seem like one to leave his son behind.
The static could be considered deafening at this point.
Maybe he should stop thinking about this.
The static agreed.
