Chapter Text
There were bruises littering his face, chest, back, and arms, he had been punched and kicked in multiple places. There was blood covering half of his face from where he had hit the floor after getting beaten and knocked back by Dream’s fists. He could only see red. It wasn’t painful, Tommy didn’t feel much pain after exile, or any pain at all, maybe the nuke radiation really had affected him. But Tommy didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to lose his last life in the small box with Dream. He still had the hotel to live for, he had Sam Nook, Tubbo, and Puffy that were helping him, as well as Jack once in a while, even though he was doubtful of Jack’s intentions after the nuke testing happened and he was almost killed. Tommy could continue to feel Dream pounding him with his boot, but he was beginning to feel weaker and weaker, failing to successfully fight back. That’s when Tommy began to slip in and out of consciousness, and barely a minute later, his head hit the ground one final time. Then everything went black, the world around him faded into nothing, just void darkness.
Dying wasn’t exactly how Tommy thought it would be. It wasn’t as painful, horrifying, and scary as Ghostbur had described it as. It was simply, nothing. No intense pain, just dull aches where Dream’s fists made a home on his skin only moments ago. Nothing to be scared of, just the void of which Tommy was familiar with, just not in a physical form. He wasn’t sure if he was deaf, blind, or both. There were no indications that his eyes were even open until a dim light started appearing in the distance. He stood there, pondering for a moment only to realize that it was taking a familiar shape, a shape of a person, no, multiple people he knew. Or, used to know.
The first person he recognized was Wilbur, not Ghostbur, not Villbur. Just Wilbur, who had already seemed to notice him. Tommy doesn’t remember the last time he spoke with the real Wilbur, maybe it was right before they lost the election, but at that point, he was sure Wilbur already knew of their fate. Maybe it was when they finally won independence, he remembers Wilbur’s words like it was yesterday, the smile on his face, and the glimmer in his eye when he learned that they truly had independence. When they were happy, safe, and free.
The next person he recognized was Schlatt. While not so happy to see him again, he remembers fondly of when he used to idolize the man, to the point of wearing the same suit, and using the same phrases because he looked up to him so much. Back when he first met him on the Prime path, how Schlatt had oh-so-generously performed the cuck-shed ordeal for him. He smiled at the thought, but the venomous memories came seeping back into the corners of his vision. He remembers being exiled the first time, Wilbur getting shot while running, Tubbo breaking the walls, and singing the anthem one last time. His smile faded.
Next, his eyes moved to Mexican Dream. He was immediately reminded of his time in exile. All the days he spent alone, with Dream. Even the good times, when he would laugh along with Mexican Dream and Girl Dream who were "playing" in the wood shack. Tommy doesn’t have many memories with him, as MD had such a short lifespan, but a good one nonetheless.
Tommy and Wilbur's eyes met, Wilbur's eyes looking so alive and yet so dead and lifeless. Wilbur stood there, unmoving, horrified at the sight ahead of him. Shortly after, Schlatt and Mexican Dream spotted Tommy as well.
Tommy made his way over to them on stumbly feet, tears rushing down his face because he is
100%,
Undoubtedly,
dead.
Dead.
If Tommy were being honest, he knew this day would come, just not as soon as it did. He thought he could still run his hotel and see his friends and be happy with Sam and Puffy. But no. They left him just like everyone else did. Stood around doing who knows what, not caring that he was dying while everyone else was turning a blind eye. Sam had left him, just like everyone else did, and let him fucking die to Dream's hands. He didn’t know why he had actually believed that he wouldn’t be left in the dust just like Phil had done to him, just like Techno had done, just like Wilbur had, just like Tubbo.
Tommy never got to say goodbye to Tubbo, never got to apologize to Techno and admit he might have been in the wrong. Never got to ask Jack to run his hotel while he was gone. He never got to thank Sam and Puffy for the generosity that left him just like how they left him to rot in prison with Dream. Tommy had many regrets, and now all he has is Wilbur, Schlatt, and Mexican Dream. He wondered if they had regrets too. Well, now he has all the time in the world to find out.
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POV Wilbur
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…
…
“Tommy?”
Holy shit. What the actual fuck is Tommy doing here? He shouldn’t even be here. I just never thought I’d see Tommy here before I got to see him back in the land of the living. I just can't believe he's dead just like us assholes are. Tommy’s arrival here is not what any of us would have wanted. Even if we wanted some new company. We all bet on who would die next, and of course, it was between Tommy and Tubbo. But when I saw that little light, I was hoping just as much as everyone else could that it wasn’t either of the two of them. Neither of them deserved to die, and yet here Tommy is, in front of me, dead.
“Hey… Wilbur. It is you right Wilbur? I’d hate to be calling you that and then have you respond like ‘Bitch that’s not me! He’s dead on another level!’ or something like that.”
“...”
“Wilbur?”
“Give him some time to register the situation, Tommy.” Schlatt had piped up from behind me. I forgot he was here.
“Heh, yea… sorry Schlatt. I kind of forgot about that part already, especially since seeing you lot here.”
So it really is him, huh? How did he even die? He looks like shit.
“Hey, Tommy. I’ve missed you… You look like shit.” Tommy looked up at me, smiling and relieved that I had said something to him since he got here. It wasn't a sight I would ever have wanted to see, but here I am. Having it bestowed upon me.
“I know big man, sorry about that, I’ve been stuck in prison for a long time, with Dream actually. God I hate that guy.” Tommy said nonchalantly. There was a pause until he spoke up again.
“Y’know Dream is actually a pretty shitty guy. Kept on insisting he was some shitty god, and when I finally put him in his place, he beat the shit outta me and I fucking died! Even though I deserved it for pissing him off so fucking much, it was so anticlimactic am I right? Not the TommyInnit way of death at all! Not that there’s anything I can do about that, but it’s the thought that counts.” Silence again, what the fuck are any of us supposed to respond to that with.
“So let me get this straight man? Dream, beat YOU to death? I wish I could've been killed by those godly hands, amigo.” Mexican Dream said. Schlatt and I looked at him unimpressed. This was a bad time for those kinds of remarks.
“Really Mexican Dream? Really?” Schlatt said, taking a sip of his whiskey. Mexican Dream shrugged.
“Well we’re just being honest here my friends! Nothing to lie about so might as well be honest!” Tommy smiled a little. But then it dropped. “It wasn’t fun to die again. It was like the other times I died, painful, sad, and at least three people were rejoicing.”
“Why were they rejoicing?” I know we had many enemies in my time, but who rejoiced this time? Why would they rejoice over the death of a child?
“Dunno, but all I know is that they’re glad I’m gone, every last one of ‘em! They didn’t care while I was alive so why would they be anything but happy now? At least it’s all over and I can finally rest now. After everything. Finally, I can rest. No more war, no more Egg, and no more Dream.” Tommy looks like he had taken death well at this point. I'd expected him to be a little more stubborn but I guess not. At least he looks... better. He looks like he’s at peace. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. I don’t know how to feel.
I took Tommy in my arms and held him close.
“Welcome to the Afterlife, Tommy.