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Golden child,
Lion boy;
Tell me what it's like to conquer.
Fearless child,
Broken boy;
Tell me what it's like to burn.
- oh darling even rome fell, by madzie-bane (tumblr)
-
Tommy kicked a rock out of his way. He glared at it for a minute before picking it up and throwing it.
“Nice throw!” a voice called from behind him.
He turned around. It was Dream. His friend.
“Thanks,” Tommy said, sitting down on the curb.
Dream sat down next to him.
“Rough day?” Dream asked.
Tommy nodded. Dream always knew when he was having a rough day. He couldn't ever remember Tubbo or Ranboo or even Wilbur being able to do that.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Tommy shrugged. “Techno is just being more and more of an ass lately. I think you were right. He really does hate me.”
“I'm sorry. I wish I'd been wrong.” Dream’s silent for a moment. “Phil doesn't say anything?”
“He just says that Techno can't help it, or something. I don't know. He never takes me side.”
“That's such a shitty thing to do, I'm sorry. I wish your dad was better.”
“He's my adoptive father,” Tommy amended quickly, hands clenched into fists.
Ever since Tommy had met Dream he’d been so understanding. He even helped Tommy realize how horrible all the people in his life had been to him.
Techno always took his anger out on him. The pair never stopped fighting. Techno hated him from the moment he came to stay at the house.
Phil never took his side on the matter. He was always seconded to Techno and Wilbur. And now Ranboo too.
Phil was so fixated on ensuring that Ranboo was a comfortable part of the family that he didn't look twice at Tommy. If he looked away from Ranboo he was looking to Wilbur, making sure he didn't overdose after being locked up in his room all day.
“Do you think,” Tommy said quietly, “he'd pay attention to me if I shot up like Wilbur did?”
The thought made Tommy feel sick, but he just wanted Phil to pay attention to him. He hadn't even noticed that he came back way after curfew most nights.
Dream looked over at him for a moment. “It’s not enough to just shoot up. He needs to know that he can lose you.”
“What,” Tommy asked quietly. His voice trembled. He knew what Dream meant.
“Overdose. That's what got Wilbur all this attention, isn't it? It could work for you,” Dream suggested.
“I could die.”
“I wouldn't let that happen. I couldn't lose my best friend,” Dream assured him.
Dream was his friend. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to him.
Tommy nodded. “I'll think about it.”
Dream smiled. “Just say the word. I'm here to help.”
Tommy looked down at his worn out shoes, toeing the gravel. He thought about it for a moment.
Death didn't seem all that scary. It was just as lonely and empty here as it was there. He didn't give Dream an answer now, but he already knew.
He either gets all the attention he could imagine or he dies. He could not see a downside to this plan.
-
Tommy stared up at his phone, at Tubbos message. He frowned.
He had invited Tubbo to the park where he hung out with Dream earlier. However, Tuboo’s parents had been getting worse and making it more difficult for him to go hang out with his friends.
He declined but he hadn't answered until hours after he'd gotten home. It was a simple “Sorry I can't.”
Tommy tossed his phone onto the floor. Not like anyone texted him anyway.
Dream was right. He was his only friend.
The clock next to him read three am. He'd been trying to sleep for hours with no luck.
That's how most of his nights went now. He never remembers falling asleep but he always remembered waking up feeling like shit. Not like he'd done well in school before now anyway. Not like Phil would notice his grades as they slowly kept slipping away.
Not like Phil noticed him.
He rolled over, anger washing over him. He punched at his pillow before grabbing it and throwing it hard across the room.
It knocked into his bookshelf, sending some of the randomly scattered items to the floor. Tommy cringed at the noise.
It wasn't even a whole ten seconds before someone knocked on his door. Wilbur poked his head inside.
“What're you doing,” Wilbur asked.
Tommy felt the rage bubbling inside him. “You're up too. Not like you'd care anyway.”
He got up, snatching the pillow off the floor and shoving the bits back onto the shelf. God he was angry and he couldn't even place a real reason why anymore. He was just angry.
“Toms, are you okay?”
“Just get out,” Tommy snapped.
Wilbur hesitated but retreated from his room.
-
The next night Tommy had a plan. He tiptoed his way into the bathroom.
He knew where Techno kept his meds. He never knew why they kept them so out in the open with Wilbur and all, it whatever. It worked in Tommy’s favor.
He turned the bottle around to find the label and typed the drug name into the search bar on his phone. He sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for it to load.
How much did he need for an overdose? He wouldn't take any more than needed.
He'd bring them to the park and Dream would have the narcan and call for an ambulance. It was a brilliant plan.
Even more brilliant because he was certain that Dream wouldn't be able to get his hands on the narcan on time.
“What are you doing?” Techno asked above him.
Tommy threw the medicine back into the cupboard and slammed it shut.
“Nothing.”
“You're a shit liar,” Techno snapped.
“You're a shit, full stop,” Tommy snapped right back.
“Can you move so I can pee,” Techno said impatiently. The words bounced right off him.
This pissed him off even more.
Hed be back tomorrow for the meds.
He walked back to his room and locked the door behind himself.
-
When Tommy got back from the park the next day his whole body ached. Dream was pissed that he had put the drugs back instead of taking them.
Dream was looking out for him. That's why he hit him.
He had half the mind to text Wilbur’s friend Niki or maybe even her friend Cara to figure out how to cover bruises with makeup. Dream would be mad, though. So he didn't.
He doubted anyone at home would notice.
When he stepped into the kitchen to grab an ice pack, he froze at the sight of Techo and Wilbur sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hey Toms,” Wilbur said with a smile. “Come sit for a minute.”
“No thanks,” Tommy said, walking past them to the fridge.
He grabbed an apple though he really wasn't hungry. His stomach grumbled in protest but it didn't matter.
“Tommy, it wasn't a request. Sit down.”
“I'll stand.”
“Fine, fine,” Techno said, inhaling deeply.
God, he was pissed, Tommy realized. He leaned against the island looking at them expectantly.
“We're just worried about you. We wanted to talk to you before we talked to Phil about it,” Wilbur said. “You seemed upset the other night and then Techno said you were rummaging through the medicine cabinet.”
“Ranboo said you haven't hung out with Tubbo in nearly a month.”
Wilbur kicked Techno under the table. “Not supposed to drag him into it.”
“Fuck,” Techno muttered.
“Like you guys actually care,” Tommy cut in over their bickering.
They both turned fast to look at Tommy. Wilbur opened his mouth to say something, but Tommy laughed right in his face.
“Fuck you,” he snapped. “It's not like either of you give a shit. You're all wrapped up in your own shit, too much so to notice anyone else. And you fucking hate me—”
“Tommy, I just got out of rehab,” Wilbur deadpanned. “It's a process and I'm sorry if I'm being selfish by trying to get better. I know me relapsing upset you but—”
Tommy turned and left. His eyes were burning with tears. He marched right out the front door and didn't stop until he got to the park.
Dream wasn't there anymore, he was alone. But that's okay. Alone wasn't always so bad.
-
Tommy spent most of his time at the park with Dream. It was a small park at the edge of town and most of the neighborhood kids were too old to use it now.
No one ever saw him. No one ever saw Dream lay a finger on him. Tommy lied to the school counselor. The bruises were an accident from some DIY home improvement. Phil would be upset to be bothered by this.
Tommy learned that he could be persuasive. Dream said he was proud of Tommy’s lying.
And that fueled Tommy on.
That's how he found himself sitting in the park with the bottle of Techno’s medication. Dream stood over him.
“Just do it Tommy,” Dream said. “They all hate you anyway. Just take them.”
“You have the narcan? You promise you’ll call for an ambulance,” Tommy said quietly, looking up at him.
“Just take it.”
Tommy looked down at the pills. He twisted the lid off.
“Toms?” a voice called out.
He looked down the sidewalk toward Wilbur who was walking toward them. He moved faster now, glaring at Dream.
“Dream,” Wilbur spat out. “Get away from him.”
Dream scoffed. “Or what.”
“I shouldn't have to threaten you to leave him alone. He's a kid.”
“I'm not a kid,” Tommy said, jumping up.
“Not now,” Wilbur said in a low voice.
“You're not a fighter, Wilbur,” Dream shrugged. “Just go back home and play your emo music.”
“Wil, you know him?” Tommy asked.
“He's my dealer,” Wilbur said quietly. “He's an asshole.”
Dream rolled his eyes. “Just go home Wilbur. Tommy knows you don't like him.”
“I'm his brother. I care about him more than I care about myself.”
Tommy’s chest felt heavy. Who was he supposed to believe? He couldn't imagine that Wilbur would follow him here just to lie about caring because he didn't like Dream.
But Dream said he would never lie to or hurt Tommy, hadn't he?
“Tommy, let's go,” Wilbur said.
“He can do whatever he wants.”
“No ones fucking talking you you!”
“I want to go home now,” Tommy said quietly. “I'm tired.”
He tucked his hand into his pocket, stuffing the pills in there. For later. He hoped Wilbur hadn't noticed.
Tommy walked past Dream, head down.
“Don't forget what I told you, Tommy,” Dream called after them.
Wilbur led Tommy down the street to where Techno was parked in his car.
“You guys came…”
“Of course we did. We're your brothers. We care about you.”
Tommy climbed in the back seat of the car. Ranboo sat here, fidgeting with his hoodie strings. He looked relieved to see Tommy alive and well.
Techno sat in the front. He was rigid. Not angry, not worried. Just...existing. It was always hard to get a read on Techno’s mood. Wilbur climbed in the passenger seat.
“Let's go.”
“That's it?” Tommy asked. “No lecture, no nothing.”
“I'll leave the lecture to Phil,” Techno said, starting the car.
“What?”
“Tommy, we had to tell him.”
“Fuck you!” he snapped. “You're all horrible.”
The rest of the ride was full of silence. Tommy’s eye that wasn't swollen from Dream was blurred with tears. Dream was right.
He'd never be able to make Phil proud. He was a naucince, a problem child. Better off dead. He prayed Wilbur hadn't seen him slip the meds into his pocket.
Tommy marched inside the house and tried to go upstairs. He was quickly deterred by Wilbur who guided him to the kitchen.
Phil sat there. He looked mad.
God he looked like—
No. Tommy wouldn't even finish that thought. He couldn't.
He felt ill.
“Sit,” Phil said.
Tommy did. He crossed his arms.
“You stole Techno’s medication. You lied to my face about getting into fights and getting out of school suspension—”
“I did not—”
“Who gave you those bruises?”
“Dream,” Wilbur said from behind Tommy.
Phil sat back. “He could really hurt you Tommy. He did hurt you.”
“I'm not a little kid, I can take care of myself. He's my friend!” Tommy shouted, voice cracking. “You can all stop acting like you care. I get it. I'm fucking exhausting! He never acted like I was a burden, like I needed to behave so he could focus on something else. He listened to me. No one in this house ever listens and I pay the price every time.”
He digs the orange pill bottle out of his pocket and throws it toward Techno with all his strength.
“I did take those, by the way. Only noticed because that sick fuck needs them everyday so he won't kill me!” Tommy yelled. He must have been crying. He was shaking. “I tried so fucking hard. But no one ever gives a shit unless I fuck up. I will never be able to make you proud, I'm always gonna live in the shadow of your addiction and you...you never stop…I'm sorry.”
Tommy felt so tired. So heavy. He sat back in his seat, feeling his energy seep away.
“Wilbur goes to rehab and all anyone can think is ‘Oh no. What if Tommy gets into another fight?’,” Tommy said quietly, staring at the table. “No one stopped for ten seconds to wonder ‘Is Tommy okay?’ because no one gives a fuck.”
The kitchen's silence was suffocating. He tried to calm his breathings, tried to stop his shaking hands.
“Dream hurt me, but at least he listened to me. He tried to help.”
“Tommy, you can't honestly think that he was helping you,” Wilbur said, voice quiet, scared.
“I made him proud,” Tommy said, exhaustion starting to take its toll on him. He leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. He wanted to cry.
It was amazing how the human brain could so easily confuse affection for manipulation. He didn't see anything wrong with the bruises on his cheeks, his ribs. He'd deserved them.
He felt younger. Like a little kid stuck in a foster home with his whole family high around him. Maybe just one hit would make everything better. The thoughts spiraled fast.
How much to make him completely numb? How much to make his big brother proud? How much would it take to kill him?
He felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. It was Phil.
“You should get some rest upstairs,” Phil said.
Tommy was too tired to protest as Phil walked him upstairs. He was more than happy to be curled up in his own bed.
Phil sat on the edge of the bed.
“Let him rest,” Techno’s voice said. “You need some too.”
“What if he needs me? I can't let him do this alone…” he whispered.
“He's a big kid. He can sleep on his own.”
“He can stay,” Tommy said sleepily, moving to give Phil space to lay down. “I don't want to be alone.”
Sometimes alone was scary.
-
Tommy sat on the swings as thunder rolled overhead. He was waiting for Dream.
It had been two weeks since he last saw him but he needed closure. Wilbur and Techno were parked a few blocks down and he really needed them.
After a few restless nights, Tommy confessed how badly he wanted to swallow every last one of those pills and never wake up. It quickly became evident to his family just how badly Dream had hurt him.
They’d mistaken pain for independence and strength and it almost cost Tommy his life.
Now he saw a therapist twice a week. Tommy liked him because they reminded him of Wilbur from when they were kids. Before abuse and addiction changed them both. It was easy to talk to him, surprisingly enough.
Tommy did not have to wait long for Dream to show up because just ten minutes after he arrived, he heard the skuff of Dream’s sneakers on the pavement.
“You came back,” Dream said.
His voice alone sent Tommy’s heart thundering. He forced himself to look up at him.
“I knew you would.”
“You didn’t think I’d try to kill myself,” Tommy said in a low voice.
Dream laughed. “No, you’re a fucking coward. Of course you wouldn’t. Not without my help.”
Tommy lowered his eyes again. He was a coward, Dream was right.
“Which one of them was it this time? Techno? Probably mad you stole his psycho pills.”
“They’re antidepressants,” Tommy muttered.
Techno told him about the medication he was on after Tommy’s therapist started to talk about possible medications to help with sleep and depression.
“Whatever. I’m still right aren’t I?” Dream asked, crossing his arms.
“No. This time it was you actually,” Tommy managed to say.
Dream didn’t say anything. Tommy braced himself to get hit. The impact never came.
“I’d never hurt you.”
“But you did. A lot. I’m starting to understand that.”
Dream scoffed. “I’m trying to help you.”
“No, you aren’t. Do you want to know why I’m here?”
“Why are you here, Tommy?” Dream asked.
“So I can look you in the eye,” Tommy said, looking up at him, “and tell you, to your face, that I never want to see you, hear from you ever, ever again. And to tell you that I hate you.”
Dream shook his head. “You’ll be back. They always come back.”
“What--”
“You’re so naive. It’s alright. Go on. Go with your family. Don’t forget what I taught you though. Those pills will be there when I’m not,” Dream said.
“I won’t be back,” Tommy said, getting up.
He turned and walked down the road towards Techno’s car. He felt Dream’s gaze on him the whole time.
He climbed in and leaned his head back. Closure really fucking sucked, he decided.
But he felt free. Freedom was nice.