Chapter Text
Tommy knew he had bad luck. It was a fact he had been aware of for many years now. You don’t fight in multiple wars and get exiled and betrayed about a thousand times without some sort of twisted karma being the reason.
But this? This was getting ridiculous.
He was getting better. Sure he wasn’t sleeping as much and he still sometimes woke up shaking with nightmares, but he had stopped flinching at the sound of raised voices and his smile felt more real as time went on. He was ready to move forwards, to work in his hotel and scam some people and learn how to exist without the ever pressing feeling of existential dread bearing down on him. He was ready to finally shake off Dream’s influence and grow to be the person he wanted to be, not the one they tried to mold him into.
And now he was trapped here. Trapped in the obsidian nightmare with dripping lava and tears, trapped with that horrible man behind him who talked about how wonderful this all would be like Tommy wasn't on the edge of panicing.
He had stopped screaming a while ago, resorting to just sitting and staring at the wall of lava, hoping that he would see it open up and Sam would come and rescue him.
Surely even with a security issue Sam could take him out of this cell right? There were a bunch of them in the hallway just a couple feet away. It would be easy to pull Tommy out and just stick him there. He didn’t even have to open up that big vault thing they were locked in.
Tommy couldn’t be stuck in here with Dream. Nope. He refused to accept it. Refused to even think of the possibility of being stuck here with this man for up to seven days. Seven days. A whole week. That was forever.
“Are you going to talk to me Tommy?” Dream asked, and Tommy hated how he could hear the smile in his voice. The bastard was enjoying this. Tommy was doing so well too. Seeing Dream always sucked, but he had managed to mostly keep his cool, to not fall back into the patterns that his traitorous brain wanted him to. And Dream was having fun. Tommy couldn’t keep up this act for a whole week. Something was going to break, and it was either going to be him or Dream's arm.
“Shut up,” He snapped, his voice rough after screaming so much. He had called for everyone he could. Sam, Phil, Tubbo, Puffy, hell he had even called for Techno at one point, which made Dream laugh. Tommy hated his laugh. He hated being laughed at.
“Come on Tommy,” Dream sighed, and Tommy could feel him shifting closer. Tommy tensed up against his will, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dream sat beside him, a few feet away. “You’re going to be in here for a while. Might as well make the most out of it.”
“I don’t like you,” Tommy stated once again. He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince Dream or himself more.
“You always say that,” Dream sighed, turning his head to look at him. He looked so different without the mask. Tommy had only seen him without it a couple of times. Mostly when he was with George or Sapnap, but sometimes in exile too when the day was winding down. “I know you don’t mean it though.”
“I do,” Tommy snapped, pulling his lips up in a snarl. He hated Dream. More than anyone else. Dream had tried to kill Tubbo. Dream had hurt him. Dream had ruined everything. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
“If you hated me you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Dream said, still sounding amused. Tommy hated how he had such a strong effect on Tommy when Tommy couldn’t do anything to hurt him back. Tommy wanted to hurt him. He wanted to lash out and hit him and make him bleed. He wanted to scream and tear him apart with words the same way Dream did to him.
He wonders if that makes him as bad as Dream. The thought makes him want to scream so he pushes it away.
“I came here to say goodbye, to move forwards without you holding me back,” Tommy feels like crying. How long had it been already? There was no clock to tell. It felt like only a couple of hours, but it could’ve been minutes. It could’ve been days.
“So you admit there was something to say goodbye to?” Dream sounded soft now. “You admit that somewhere, at some point, I was worth saying goodbye to.”
“No, I’m saying you’re a massive fucking prick who is a giant roadblock on my way to a happy life and I need to wipe you from my hands as soon as fucking possible,” Tommy turned to glare at him, finally meeting his green eyes. Dream perked up slightly at that.
“Well you can do that after our seven days are up,” Dream was smiling, and Tommy felt a shiver go up his spine. Creepy motherfucker. “Come on Tommy, it won’t be that bad. We can hang, talk it out, joke around like old times. We had fun at some point, didn’t we? We mesh so well together.”
“Shut up,” Tommy hissed once again. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“So you’re going to stare at this wall of lava for seven days?” Dream asked, sounding amused. “You’ll have to eat at some point, and I’ll be the one with the potatoes. Talking to me is unavoidable.”
“Well then I’ll do it as little as possible,” Tommy shivered again, despite the overwhelming heat. He could feel the panic he had finally managed to pull down bubbling back up again. The rush of the lava, the gleam of glowstone off of the obsidian, Dreams voice grating on his ears. It was too much. Everything was too much.
“Well now you’re just being rude,” Dream didn’t sound too offended. If anything he sounded just as amused as he had earlier when he yelled at Tommy to stop being an idiot and accept it.
But he can’t. Sam will come for him. Sam will take him out. He just needed some time to fix the immediate problem then he would pull Tommy out and he can spend the rest of his time lonely in one of the cells out there. Sam would save him. Sam wouldn’t leave him here to rot with Dream.
“Sam will come for me,” He says out loud, hoping that doing so will make it sound more true. Dream snorted beside him and Tommy clenched his fists. “Sam will come for me.”
“Whatever helps you cope Tommy,” Dream said, sounding bored. “You just have to ask yourself what matters to Sam more, you? Or the prison?”
Tommy’s blood ran cold. He doesn’t want to think about that. Sam was his friend.
Only because Tommy forced him to be by the contract.
But Sam didn’t protest that part of it. He accepted it without another thought, sounding almost amused by the proposition. And he had helped Tommy lots. Had given him advice. Had offered his house when he found Tommy loitering by the hotel in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep. Sam was probably one of the closest things Tommy could call to a friend these days. Barring Tubbo of course. And maybe Puffy. They were his friends, Sam was his friend.
Then why wasn’t he here?
Fuck, Tommy was starting to panic again. He thought he was better than this. He thought he was better than falling prey to Dream’s poisoned words. He knew better! He knew Dream was lying to try and get to him! But the words made sense, just like they did back in exile. He hated this. He wanted to scream. He thought he was over this. He was getting better, wasn’t he? He didn’t feel better.
Tommy felt his breathing pick up again against his will. He squeezed his hand into his arm, nails digging into his skin in an attempt to not let himself drift off into the sea of panic washing over him. It didn’t help. He could see Dream out of the corner of his eye, looming, just staring at him with those bright amused eyes, a smile on his lips. The lava bubbled in front of him and the heat reminded him of the nether. The obsidian under him felt horribly like the path to the portal, Tommy staring down at the lava and wondering if the burn would numb everything else.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, eyes flying up and all he could see was Dream, his head cocked and steely eyes meeting his own, framed by the dark indestructible stone behind him.
Tommy felt his world tilt and he could hear the screams of Tubbo, Wilbur, and Fundy behind him. He could hear Eret laughing, could feel the sting of Dream’s blade cutting into his skin, piercing sharply through his heart and taking his first life. He could feel the sting of betrayal, the fear and anger ripping through him.
Dream’s hand is one his shoulder and he is shoving him back from the bubbling lava, no compassion in his voice as he denies Tommy’s need to die. Tommy’s hands are burning on the hot stone and tears won’t fill his eyes due to the oppressive heat.
Dream was standing in front of him with an axe raised, his mask on as he demanded Tommy throw his stuff in the hole. His cheek was stinging from the harsh slap Dream gave him and he felt the bubbling anger and despair start to choke him.
Dream is grabbing his arm to lead him across a mountaintop, Tubbo’s scared eyes meeting his own and Tommy hated the resignation he could see in them. Dream is standing over him, lecturing him on friendship and attachments and hero’s origin stories.
Tommy flails backwards, the panic overwhelming him as his back hits the obsidian wall, Dream’s hand falling off of him. His vision is swimming and Tommy isn’t really sure where he is. He’s in the final control room and Dream is killing him. He’s standing in the nether and Dream refuses to let him die. There are explosions echoing around him and he doesn’t even try to guess when those are from. He is in the prison and Dream is sitting across from him, staring at him like he is some kind of science experiment. Everything blurs and he starts to lose himself.
“You need to breathe Tommy,” Dream says, his voice firm and Tommy whimpers slightly at the way it grated on his ears.
Put your stuff in the hole. I don’t give a fuck about spirit. I want to see white flags! Why don’t you get in the hole Tommy? You’re just too much fun.
Tommy ducks his head into his knees, pressing his hands against his ears to stop the voices echoing around his skull. He doesn’t know where he is but whenever he looks all he can see is dark stone and lava. All he can see is Dream.
It’s too much. He thinks he’s going to die. He can’t breathe and his skin is crawling and he wants to peel it off. His heart and his head are pounding so hard he thinks they might explode into a tiny million little pieces and splatter across the room. He can’t focus and he can’t breathe and he can still feel Dream’s hands crawling over him, oppressive in their touch.
All of it is so overwhelming, he can’t look anywhere or use anything to ground himself in the moment because he knows that even if he manages to do that, he will have to look up eventually and it’ll start the whole cycle over again. There’s no escape. He’s stuck in his worst nightmares and he will be for at least seven days. It feels like an eternity. He can’t even handle a couple of hours.
It’s pointless. He’s going to die here. There’s no escape and he can’t stop himself from tumbling down the hole of trauma and fear. He feels himself slipping and there’s nothing to grab onto in order to stop it. He’s trapped. It’s too much. He can’t stand it. He’s going to die. He wants to die. He wants Sam to come and save him. He wants Tubbo to hold him and tell him it would be okay. He wants Phil and Techno here to protect him.
He can’t have it. Tommy isn’t in control. All he has is Dream and his stupid smug smiling face and Tommy can’t stand it. He can’t stand this. He can’t do this, but what choice does he have? He had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. He has to face it head on but he physically can’t do that without everything swirling and twisting into his worst nightmares.
Tommy lets out a sob, his entire body shaking so hard he thinks it might tear apart. Dream’s hands are on him again, touching and pulling and Tommy can’t stand it but he’s too hysteric and weak to break out of it. He feels Dream’s solid chest replace the wall behind him and feels his arms wrap around him. It’s too warm. He’s suffocating. He’s going to die here. Dream won’t stop touching him and he’s whispering but Tommy can’t make out the words.
He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t want to be here when every touch feels like it might break him in half and he’s powerless to escape it.
Tommy takes a step back. He can’t take it anymore without snapping apart, and theres no way to avoid it, so he snaps.
Everything goes numb. He drifts inside his own head, going limp in Dream's arm and he can’t feel the touch anymore. He can’t feel much of anything really. He’s drifting through a thick sea of honey, everything blurry as if looking at it through a thick lens.
He could still feel Dream’s hands on him, the panic that it brought, but it was muted, like he was observing from a separate spot. His brain had separated from his body, casting a thick sludge around every coherent thought or feeling. His hands didn't feel like his own.
It was nice. Being tucked away like this. Everything there but painfully muted, painfully peaceful. There was a numbness that made him feel lighter than he was, without the weight his body gave him. Tommy liked it here.
All the pain, all the fear, all the panic was far away. He could drift in peace. A small part of him screamed at the separation, a feeling of wrongness that covered the entire feeling. But the numbness won out in the end, and Tommy continued to drift.
______________________________
Tommy wasn’t sure how long it was until he felt his brain and his body reconnect. He had been drifting for what felt like ages, time sometimes seeming impossibly slow and other times passing in the blink of an eye. He was aware of his body moving, of breathing and feeling and staring at the oppressive black walls, but it was all numb. Like someone else was operating his body while he took a backseat.
Every time he felt a bit closer to the surface the panic would start to drift back in and he would retreat, trying his hardest to get back to that perfect numbness that overtook him. He watched as Dream paced around the place, sometimes trying to talk to him but the words sounded like they were coming from underwater. Tommy heard them and he was sure they had meanings, but it didn't connect inside his jumbled mind.
Dream seemed frustrated by Tommy’s lack of response, and a small part of him whispered that he almost seemed worried. Tommy didn’t know what to make of that and he was too out of it to try and figure it out. It was safe here, everything was quiet, like his brain was finally turned off.
Dream had forced him to eat at one point, his hands wrapped around Tommy’s as he guided the potato to his mouth. It was the closest Tommy had gotten to feeling real in hours, when the disgust and anger broke past the barrier to snarl at the fact that Dream was treating him like a fucking doll.
But the anger felt too real and Tommy was more than happy with not feeling that way, so he retreated. He didn’t really remember what happened after that. Everything seemed to blur together.
There was nothing special about the moment everything clicked back together. Dream was staring at the wall, ignoring Tommy’s existence. Silence stretched between them. Tommy had no idea what time it was. Had he fallen asleep at some point? Had it been hours? Days? How much longer of this did he have?
He could feel his hands again. He felt everything, including the sting of uncomfortableness that came with the awkward way he was folded up against the wall. He cringed, stretching out his legs and blinking as everything swam back into focus. He thought it would feel stranger than it did, but for once he didn’t feel the panic. He was still numb, just less so. More aware of where he was, who he was.
“Tommy?” Dreams voice made him flinch, blinking slowly as he turned to the other man, who was facing him again. “You back with me?”
“Shut up,” He snapped, but it lacked any heat. Dream smiled, and Tommy noted that it wasn’t any of his biting or mocking ones. It almost seemed genuine. Somehow that was worse.
“You had me worried there for a bit,” Dream shrugged his shoulders, shaking his hands. “Had even me calling out for Sam. He still didn’t come.”
There was a sharp sting in Tommy’s chest, but he pushed it away. He didn’t care. He couldn’t. He was more than used for people not showing up for him. People not seeing him the way he saw them. He had no idea how many times he had seen someone as a friend only for them to actually hate his guts. He wasn’t very good at reading context clues apparently.
“Wanna play a game?” Dream asked casually, and Tommy glared at him. “Don’t give me that look. I have a feeling you need some grounding right now huh? I’m happy to help. I spy with my little eye, something that is purple.”
“Your eye once I punch you in the face,” Tommy growled, the sharp sting of annoyance feeling good. It made him feel real, it made him feel alive. His hands felt like his own.
“No silly,” Dream rolled his eyes. “Guess again.”
“Your other eye after I punch you in the face?” Tommy said dryly. Dream leveled him with a glare that made Tommy resist the urge to flinch.
“You’re not really good at this game,” Dream said with a sigh. “It’s the crying obsidian.”
“Wow, who would’ve thought that,” Tommy rolled his eyes. Why was he sitting here talking to Dream? He hated him. He wanted to get out of here and never see Dream again, not sit here and play games with him. Why couldn’t he bring himself to care?
“Your turn,” Dream said happily. Tommy glared at him once again, pulling his teeth back in a small snarl. He didn’t have the energy for more. His stomach growled and he ignored it. “No? Do you want to play another game? We could play hangman? Tik Tac Toe? I can draw a picture and you have to guess what it is?”
“Those are stupid games.”
“You’re not much fun to talk to,” Dream pointed out, the smile never leaving his lips. He was having fun.
“Then don’t fucking talk to me,” Tommy bit back, curling up tighter. “I just want out of here.”
He stupidly felt like crying. He wasn’t even overly sad. Just empty. His chest had been scraped out with a shovel. He hated this feeling. He wanted to go back to the absolute nothingness. He wanted to go home. He didn’t really know where that was.
“Hey Toms,” Dream’s voice was soft, and he shuffled closer, stopping when Tommy tensed. “You’re okay. I’m sure Sam will be here soon alright? Just a little while longer.”
“How long has it been?” Tommy asked, turning to stare at the lava wall. He couldn’t do this. The bubbling liquid felt enticing.
“Not sure without the clock,” Dream shrugged. “Three maybe four days? You were out of it for a while.”
That didn’t feel right. But Tommy didn’t know enough to prove him wrong. He hated that more than anything. He hated having to depend on Dream for anything. How could he have let his guard down like he did? What if Dream had tried to do something while Tommy was drifting? He was completely vulnerable. He had promised himself to never be in that position again. Frustration welled up inside of him and he dug his fingers into his arms once again.
“Are you okay Tommy?” Dreams voice was dripping with sympathy. Tommy knew it was fake. He hated how it made him feel slightly better. How long had it been since someone asked that? Normally people didn’t mention it when he was acting off or just didn’t notice his strange behaviour at all. Dream did. It was bullshit.
“I’m stuck in this small fucking cage with you, what do you think?” He snaps, and Dream didn’t react at all, his face still neutral.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that,” Dream’s voice was even. “I promise you don’t have to be afraid of me. I’ve changed. I’ve become a better person. Prison has helped.”
“You said you don’t regret what you did,” Tommy challenged. He knew this game; knew the cycle of apologies he gave before hurting him all over again. He refused to play it. He was better than that. He might be susceptible to flashbacks and imense panic, but he refuses to let Dream manipulate him again.
“It’s complicated Tommy,” Dream’s voice didn’t change. Tommy wishes he got mad, or at least upset. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“And were you?” Tommy challenged. “Do you still think that? Do you regret it at all?”
“Of course I do Tommy-“
“Do you regret it only because you got caught?” Tommy cut him off. “Because you’re in jail? Do you regret it only because it didn’t work? If it had worked and I was stuck in here and Tubbo was-“ Tommy cuts himself off, taking a deep breath to calm the surge of panic that spiked at that thought. “If that all happened, would you still feel bad? Would you let me out? Would you bring Tubbo back? Would you apologize?”
Dream was silent. Tommy felt vaguely victorious. Dream looked down; his face still blank. Tommy wondered why he wore a mask when he never seemed to have any actual meaningful facial expressions anyways.
“Was it worth it?” Tommy whispered. “Giving it all up? Sapnap? George? Everyone else? It must hurt, having nothing. Knowing you’re stuck here and no one will visit.”
“People come to visit,” Dream said, and he sounds almost defensive.
“Bad right? But I’m guessing he was just doing some weird egg thing. Whatever the hell that’s about. And Sapnap too right? I remember seeing him after, he was pissed. And sad I think. You really fucked him over huh? Kind of an asshole thing to do. Sapnap deserved better than that. We all did. So two people? Who both came like once?”
“And you?” Dreams voice was firm, and he looked up to stare Tommy directly in the eyes. Tommy forced himself not to look away even as his hands shook. “You’ve come Tommy. A few times too. Couldn’t stay away could you? And now you’re stuck.”
Dream was trying to get a rise out of him, to put him off and scare him. Tommy was too tired to fall for it. For once he felt like he had a bit of an upper hand and he wasn’t going to let it go. Because Tommy knew that deep down Dream still cared. He still had attachments, even if he had ruined them.
“I came to say goodbye,” Tommy said softly. “And the times before it was because I struggled with what you did to me and I wanted to feel like I had some sort of power over you. I wanted to rub it in that I won and you lost.”
Tommy doesn’t know why he’s saying this. He didn’t really want to, but he figured there was no better time than now.
“So you’re no better than I was,” Dream said softly. “Do you think everyone thinks of you the same way? Do you think people see you and think you’re as bad as me? Do you think people are glad you’re locked in here like I am?”
Tommy swallowed hard. He was afraid of that. More than anything. The one thing he hated was the person Dream made him, the person he was when he was with Techno. He hadn’t wanted to be like that, angry and lashing out at those around him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, but he had craved their acceptance, their approval, and worst of all their love.
He knows now that it was a doomed quest. That tearing himself down in order to become someone they could get along with was the biggest betrayal he could commit.
“Maybe,” Tommy whispered. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better and that’s more than you have ever done.”
“Is it?” Dreams voice was hard now, cutting. Tommy hated it. He hated how easily the power dynamic had shifted between them. He wonders if he will ever have any semblance of control when it came to Dream, or if he was forever doomed to become some weak traumatized kid whenever he was around. “Does it matter when they already hate you?”
“They don’t hate me,” Tommy tried, but it felt like a lie to even his own ears. Who really did he have? Sam? Tubbo? Puffy? Quackity? He wasn’t really sure anymore.
“Where are they?” Dream asked. “You think they care you’re in here? Or are they dicking around, having fun without you? How much you wanna bet that they haven’t even noticed you're gone?”
“Shut up,” Tommy hissed, curling into himself.
“How many people will come to your stupid hotel?” Dream laughed. “You think that thing will actually work? No one cares Tommy. If they did they would’ve come to visit you in exile. They would have fought with you in Doomsday. You are excellent in pushing people away Tommy, it’s what made my work so much easier. I barely had to pull any strings! No one cared then and they won't care now.”
“Is this when you say you care? That you're my only friend?” Tommy snarled, closing his eyes and trying to push back the nagging thoughts that Dream was feeding. His chest was starting to tighten again. He wanted to get out.
“I don’t Tommy,” Dream’s voice was soft again. “I don’t care. You and I both know that. Maybe on some level I saw you as a project, as an objective. Means to an end. But that’s all you were. And I’ll admit, you’re fun Tommy. You have that stubborn light in you that is very hard to blow out, but it burns Tommy. Everyone around you burns and you let them. You couldn’t even convince Tubbo, your best friend and the biggest pushover on this server, to like you for that long.”
“Don’t talk about Tubbo,” Tommy snarled, anger spiking up. “You know nothing about us.”
“I wish that wasn’t true,” Dream snorted. “I barely had to apply any pressure for him to cave and kick you out. You have consistently put him and the others above everything, and they won’t do the same. It’s kind of sad. Where are you going to put all that devotion when no one wants it? When all it does it ruin you. That’s what I was trying to teach you, attachments, people, things you care about, it’s weakness! Because they will never love you the same way you do. All they will do is drag you down.”
“You disgust me,” Tommy whispered, his voice piercing the air. He was struggling to breathe, to pull his racing thoughts together. Tears were filling his eyes but he raised his head to stare Dream down. “You talk big, but you're full of shit. My attachments are what keep me strong. It’s what keeps me from giving up. What do you have? Pipe dreams of a united server? What makes you wake up in the morning? What keeps you going? Maybe they’ll never love me, maybe I’m a fucking horrible person and unlovable, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I love them and that’s enough.”
“Is it?” Dream whispered, cocking his head to the side, looking almost sad. “What has your friendship ever got you? Your loyalty and bravery? Your ridiculous heroics? What did you earn from that Tommy? A broken and destroyed nation? A dead brother? A ruined friendship? What do you have Tommy? Cause to me it looks like you have nothing. Nothing but that stupid hope that keeps letting you down. So go on Tommy, what do you have?”
Tommy didn’t know.
He simply didn’t know anymore.
“I could say the same to you,” Tommy whispered, ducking his head down. He didn’t want to be here anymore.
He took a step back, and everything faded once again. He felt like crying. He felt nothing at all.
______________________________________
It was Dream who brought him back the next time. Through the blissful nothingness Tommy was distantly aware of Dream approaching him, crouching down and grabbing his shoulder, pushing him against the wall. The pain broke through the protective barrier Tommy kept around his mind, snapping it in half and making him blink as everythign swirled back in.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy asked, slightly confused. He hadn’t really been focused on what was happening before he zoned back in.
“I’m bored,” Dream said mildly. “I wanted to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” Tommy shuffled away from Dream, the closeness suffocating. The peaceful numbness he had the last time he drifted back into his own mind was gone, replaced by the panic over the small room with dark walls. He hated this stupid claustrophobic feeling pressing down on his chest.
How long had he been in here? How much longer was he going to have to suffer?
“Too bad,” Dream shrugged, standing up. “Do you think Sam’s actually going to come and get you?”
“Of course he is,” Tommy scoffed. “As soon as the security measure is fixed.”
“How long does that take?” Dream questioned. “It sounded like a lot of TNT, but this place is made mostly of indestructible resources. It would be easy to repair. I didn’t think it would take the entire week, but it seems like it will.
Tommy had no idea how long it had been. There was no way to tell without a clock. Dream grinned at him.
“Personally? I think they decided you were better off in here,” Dream said, sounding amused. Tommy wanted to punch that smug off his face.
“They wouldn’t do that,” Tommy frowned. “Sam wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t he?” Dream raised an eyebrow. “He’s all about the safety of the server, what if you have been labeled as a liability? It would make sense. You do cause a lot of trouble.”
“I do not,” Tommy snapped, blinking. “Or well, I did but I don’t anymore! I've kept out of conflict. I’ve been good.”
“Good enough?” Dream countered without missing a beat. “I mean, I’m not so sure without a clock, but it does almost feel like a week has passed.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy snapped. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Tommy would notice a week passing.
“What? Were you aware enough to tell the passage of time?” Dream mocked him with a roll of his eyes. “I’m used to telling time in here. I’m guessing it has almost been six days now. Much longer than this security measure should have taken.”
“You’re lying,” Tommy accused, even though he didn’t have any proof. He didn’t know anything. He stood up, shaking out his sore limbs and turning to face away from Dream. He started pacing, nervous energy filling him. When would he get out of here?
“Maybe you’re stuck in here with me for longer,” Dream sounded pleased. “That would be nice. I meant it when I said you were fun Tommy. We could learn to get along in here! We could have a grand ole time Tommy. Haven’t we already? I’ve had lots of fun.”
“I hate you so much,” Tommy sighed, pacing more. It was too small in here. He hated small spaces. He remembered being trapped between a wall and a piston in Pogtopia, Wilbur laughing at him cruelly. He shivered, forcing the thought out of his mind. He was once again painfully reminded of all of his triggers in this place. It was almost like it was designed to torture him. Fucking bullshit.
“You don’t want to spend all of eternity in here with me?” Dram sounded like he was having fun. “Just hours spent with me, no escape, no leaving. We could become actual friends this time around! No betrayals, no hurting, just the two of us doing whatever we want.”
“No,” Tommy shook his head. Panic was crawling along his skin for some reason. He didn’t want to be here. He couldn’t stand this anymore. He wanted away from Dream, who was only a few feet away at all times. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Are you?” Dream laughed. “I don’t think you are Tommy. I think they forgot.”
“No, Sam wouldn’t,” Tommy couldn’t breathe. Something was squeezing his chest tightly. “Sam!”
He didn’t know why he was shouting again. He had already proven that to be fruitless. He couldn’t help but do it. There were coms in here right? Sam could just buzz in and tell him everything would be alright, that he was working hard to fix the issue and get him out.
“Oh yeah, start screaming again,” Tommy could hear the sarcasm. “That will help.”
“Sam!” Tommy shouted. He wanted his friend back. He gave good hugs and never teased Tommy for wanting them. He was kind and made jokes with him. He had built a robot from the ground up in order to make Tommy happy. “Sam please! Just say something! Anything! Just let me know you’re out here.”
“No one is here,” Dream whispered. “No ones coming. It’s just you and me. It’ll always be you and me.”
Tommy was standing in front of the lava pit.
The bubbling liquid heated his skin and he felt like he was burning. Panic clawed at his chest and he was never going to escape. Dream would always be here, hovering and crowding him and the room was too small. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted out. Sam could just talk to him and that would help. He’d feel better just hearing someone’s voice that wasn’t Dream’s. He needed out.
“Sam please,” Tommy whispered, tears racing down his cheeks. He was shaking. He stared at the lava until his eyes were burning and he could see an orange glow whenever he closed his eyes. “I can’t- I don’t- I can’t do this anymore.”
“You won’t do it,” Dream was behind him, whispering in his ears, Tommy flinched away, but there was nowhere to go to escape him. Wherever he went Dream could just follow. He was trapped. He was cornered. “I know you won't Tommy.”
He stares at the lava, and felt longing hit him hard in the chest. It would be so easy. Just step in, let the lava take him. Then he’d never have to hear Dream’s voice again. He’d be free of this painfully small box filled with reminders of the pain he went through.
Would anyone care? Would they miss him? Mourn him?
Did they even care he was in here? Was Tubbo working to help save him? Was Sam? Was Puffy waiting out there with warm arms and encouraging words? Would any of them care at all?
Why didn’t Sam move him to a different cell? Why was he locked in here? Why did it have to be him?
“Please,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing me?”
“Its fun,” Dream whispered back, a smile in his voice. “You are so incredibly easy to break Tommy. You really are pathetic you know. So easy to shatter and mold. It’s not even a challenge at this point.”
Tommy couldn’t stand it. Was getting out in a couple of days even worth listening to this? Even if he got free eventually he’d have to spend hours sitting in this cell with Dream first, listening to his poisoned words, never able to truly escape or get out. He couldn’t do it.
The lava was warm. He wonders if it’ll feel like someone’s hugging him. Sam gave good hugs. So did Puffy. Tubbo didn’t but Tommy loved them either way. When was the last time they had hugged? Tommy can’t remember.
He didn’t want to be here anymore. He couldn’t stand it. Even when drifting he was painfully aware of Dream’s constant presence, pushing down at him, staring at him. Dream could do anything to him and Tommy wouldn’t be able to stop it. Even after weeks in prison Dream was stronger. Or at least Tommy thinks he is. Tommy doesn’t feel very strong at the moment.
And right now? Right now he felt painfully there. There was no escape, no blissful numbness and drifting. Tommy felt very real and it was terrifying. He was real and he was trapped.
Tommy remembered how trapped he felt during exile. How alone he was. He remembered how helpless he was in those weeks, practically dependant on Dream and hoping for an escape that would never come. He remembered finally locking him up and the overwhelming feeling of safety and freedom that came with it. He remembered promising himself to never be like that again, helpless and at Dream’s complete mercy. And here he was, trapped and helpless with Dream standing behind him.
That freedom he felt in coming here, in closing the book and finally moving on was gone. The freedom that he felt and treasured in every moment after Dream was locked away was shattered in a couple of horrible days. He was trapped. Freedom and safety had been in his hands and it slipped through like water.
Tommy couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t do this again. He would get his freedom one way or another, no matter what. He wouldn’t sit here and let himself be helpless again. He wouldn’t give Dream that power.
He’s running forwards before he can even think about it anymore. He couldn’t stand it. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to feel freedom once again, even if it felt like burning alive.
He reaches out his arms, fingers brushing the burning hot liquid and the pain felt like a release. Arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him up, stopping his movement and almost tumbling them to the ground. Tommy knew nothing but panic, the touch slimy and hurting and he needed the lava, he needed to escape, he couldn’t take it anymore.
Dream was holding him, dragging him back away from the lava with strong arms wrapped around his waist.
“Let me go!” He screamed, thrashing and trying to break his hold. It didn’t even falter as Dream pulled him further away from the familiar heat. The heat felt like Wilbur’s arms around him. The burning flesh of his fingertips smelled like Niki’s bakery. The bubbling liquid sounded like Tubbo’s laugh. “Please, let me go. Let me go.”
“I can’t let you die Tommy,” Dreams's voice was gruff, firm and struggling. Tommy tried to slither away, not letting Dream get a single second of rest. “It’s not your time to die.”
Tommy hated those words. He hated this man. He hated that he was trapped here and wasn’t allowed to escape and once again Dream was the one controlling his last life. Tommy screamed, throwing his head back and feeling satisfaction when he heard a crack and Dream’s swearing.
“Let me go!” He screamed. “Let me die! Let me fucking die!”
Dream said nothing, but they were on the ground now, Dream pinning Tommy’s arms and holding him down with his weight. His nose was bleeding and his eyes were hard. Tommy’s vision danced dangerously but he kept struggling with a single-minded focus. Dream wouldn’t win. Dream couldn’t win.
“Help!” He screamed. “Dream please, I can’t do this. I can’t! I want to go! Let me go!”
He doesn’t know how long he screams. He doesn’t know how long he struggles. All he knows is that he’s pinned to the hot obsidian floor and Dream is on top of him, his heavy weight keeping Tommy down. Dream’s head was now resting on Tommy’s shoulder, his hands leaving bruises on his arms and Tommy did not stop struggling, even as his entire body hurt and his fingertips screamed in pain.
He was so tired. He just wanted to go. He didn’t care about the consequences. He wanted out, one way or another.
But Dream wouldn’t let him. Tommy wanted to scream. He did scream. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
Finally Tommy gave up, his screams turning into sobs as he lay there, tears streaming down his cheeks and an overwhelming sensation of helplessness overcoming him.
“It’s okay,” Dream’s rumbling voice was soft against his ears and Tommy hated it. One of Dream’s hands left his wrist, hovering expectantly as if waiting to see if Tommy would start struggling again. He was too tired. He doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to. Dreams hand reached up to cradle his cheek. Tommy hated it. The touch burned. He leaned into it anyways and hated himself a bit more. “It’s going to be okay Tommy, I’m here.”
Tommy felt himself break, shattering into a million pieces. It wasn’t the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. But lying there, every sensation surrounded by wrongness and filled with Dream, Tommy thinks he might be dying either way.
________________________________________________
He drifts in and out of it for what feels like forever. Most of the time he sits in that wonderful detached place in the back of his mind, where he doesn’t feel real and his hands shake and move of their own violation without his control.
Dream forces him to eat and Tommy doesn’t taste the mush on his tongue. He doesn’t feel much of anything.
Sometimes, although rarely, he feels alive again. And everything becomes too much. No matter where he looks another memory looms. Sometimes it’s the control room, sometimes exile, occasionally doomsday and the disc war. It doesn’t really matter. They all blur together, Dream the focus of them all.
Dream talks to him during those times. A few times it’s nice, when Tommy’s too tired and numb to protest and fight back much. They talk and Dream tells jokes and laughs at him and he’ll sit by Tommy’s side and hold his hand even though Tommy tells him not to. He’s always too tired to protest it that much. Other times they scream, and Tommy cries, but he never goes for the lava again, no matter how much he wants to. Dream taunts him and Tommy fights back but sometimes he wonders if Dream is right.
If he really was the problem. If he was better off in here. If anyone really cared. He tried not to believe it, but the longer time went on with no sign of rescue the worse Tommy felt. He had no way of telling how long it had been, especially with how often he drifts out of focus. Dream tells him it has been longer than a week. Tommy had no choice but to believe him. He wonders if he’ll ever see the light of day again. The bubbling of the lava grows louder.
But mostly, Tommy doesn’t think at all. He retreats to that safe place in the back of his mind where nothing can touch him. Where there’s no panic or anger or fear. Where Dream’s words sound convoluted and like they’re an entirely new language. Where the feeling of heat on his skin is nothing but a dull ache and his fingers don’t feel like anything at all.
He’s staring at the solid wall of lava when it happens. For a second Tommy finally believes he’s lost it. His mind has completely broken and now he’s hallucinating the escape he never will get.
The lava is retreating, and Tommy can see Sam standing at the other end of the bridge, walking towards them. He’s wearing full armor and is holding his trident in his hand. Tommy likes this vision, it feels safe. It feels fake. He feels fake too. He wonders if he actually died in prison and now he’s just a ghost flouting around with a faulty memory.
“Looks like you are getting out of here,” Dreams voice makes him blink, and he turns to the other man, who looks almost disappointed. “It’s a shame, I was getting used to sharing the silence with you.”
Tommy blinks, frowning in confusion. His brain isn’t able to move faster than a couple seconds at a time.
“Tommy,” It’s Sam’s voice that brings him back to reality. It takes him a second to realize that he was the person Sam was talking to, and his eye widen as he turns to the man who is now standing at the front of the cage. His face is hard but Tommy can almost hope that the spark of worry in his eyes is real. He looks real, and Dream acknowledged it.
Was Tommy getting out of here? Was this real? Shouldn’t he be happier? Why couldn’t he feel anything at all?
“Time to go Tommy,” Dream’s voice singsonged behind him. “Feel free to visit anytime! I had so much fun.”
Tommy thinks he hates him. He thinks he hates himself. He thinks he hates nothing at all. It’s all too confusing.
He stumbles to his feet, and Sam holds out a hand towards him, not tearing his eyes away from Dream. Tommy stumbles on weak limbs towards the man, whose fingers wrap around his arm. Tommy blinks and isn’t able to restrain the shudder. Touch feels oppressive on his skin, heavy and warm and very real against his very fake skin. It feels like Dream’s pinning him down, like Dream is holding him in a mockery of comfort.
Sam seems to notice his reaction because he’s suddenly looking at Tommy, worry alight on his face as he looks him over. He glances back over to Dream and his face is hardening once again.
“I’ll be back to deal with you later,” Sam’s voice was hard. Tommy watches as Dream shrugs, lifting a hand to wave goodbye.
“Can't wait! Good luck Sam,” He says cheerfully. “And see you later Tommy.”
Tommy shakes at the words, at the thought of being trapped in that horrible box with that man again. Sam is pushing him forwards onto the platform, and the netherite bars are going back up and Dream fades into the distance once again as Tommy and Sam drift over the lava. Tommy wonders how easy it would be to just go limp and fall in. He doesn't have enough control over his limbs to do so.
Tommy stands on the other side as the lava starts to fall once again. He stares at Dream until the lava overtakes his vision again and the other man is gone. He should feel relieved. He doesn’t. He doesn’t feel happy about it either. Tommy doesn’t know what to feel, so he doesn’t.
“Tommy?” Sam’s talking again, his voice soft and Tommy turns to it, blinking in an effort to make sense of everything going on around him. He’s hovering in a place between numbness and nothingness, far away from feeling but not completely lost and tucked away in the back of his mind. “Tommy are you okay?”
Tommy opens his mouth but his tongue doesn’t feel like his own and he doesn’t remember how to form proper words. He doesn’t remember the script, what he was supposed to be saying to make everyone feel better once again. Sam is staring at him and Tommy knows he’s waiting for something but Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to give it to him.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Sam mutters, and his hand is on his shoulder again. Tommy wants it gone. Sam feels too real and nothing else does. It’s Sam’s hand but it also feels like Dreams. It feels like Wilbur and Techno and Schlatt and Eret.
He’s stumbling away, head ducked as he feels a bolt of panic race through him and he retreats into himself a bit farther, distancing himself from the overwhelming feeling. Sam’s hand is off of him now, raised in surrender. He’s talking, low soothing words that Tommy doesn’t register properly. But they sound soothing. Tommy’s okay with pretending like Sam cares. He thinks that would be nice.
“Come on kid,” Sam’s voice is back and Tommy just nods, forcing his legs to follow Sam out of the prison. He thinks they go through protocols but Tommy’s starting to drift a bit more the second he sees the lava. He’s free he thinks, but he’s also still back in prison. He’s also in exile, and in Pogtopia, and in the final control room. Tommy is in a thousand pieces scattered throughout time and it’s hard to stay firmly in this one, so he doesn’t.
Sam’s leading him outside and the sun hurts his eyes. He stares up at it, marveling at how different it feels from the obsidian and lava he was staring at for the past however many days. The sun feels real. Tommy wishes he could feel the same.
He was free. He was free. He was free.
Maybe if he thinks it enough times it’ll start feeling like the truth.