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“bye-bye baby blue.
i wish you could see the wicked truth.”
tommy welcomes death with open arms, because that's what he's always wanted, really.
“ it's isn't your time to die, tommy.”
death has- death has always been there, in tommy's life. death breathed over tommy's shoulder, and he used to be scared of it, but now he's pretty sure they're just old friends. tommy's knocked on its door more times than he can count, and he doesn't think he cares.
he finds it ironic, really, as he feels a punch land right in his gut. he wheezes, but his spot lying limp on the cold obsidian floor doesn't change. dream had gone on and on about how tommy was hope. he was hope, and so was the cat- tommy's killed him now, he couldn't stand that thing- and dream's killing him. he would laugh, if he wasn't currently getting his head slammed in.
tommy thinks of how he asked, “ do you love pussboy?”
and dream had answered, “ i- what? yes.”
he could cackle at how cruel that is. dream didn't give a shit about spirit, or his family- his friends. he wouldn't say he loved george or sapnap but he'll say he loves some random cat who came from god-knows-where.
that makes tommy chuckle humorlessly, and he can feel the anger vibrating off of dream. the green man hasn't been more angry since- well, forever.
dream would say he hasn't been this angry since spirit died, since he's been betrayed by everyone, sapnap, george, punz- tommy. it thrums in his veins and all he can think is kill kill kill. his punches and kicks and taunts and screams and growls all echo straight into tommy, because he's the only other human in this god forsaken cell. he ignores as drops of blood come from tommy’s mouth.
tommy starts to get worried, because his health is decreasing- and he hasn't apologized to the people who need it. tubbo, techno.
(he wishes for wilbur.)
dream isn't stopping, and tommy screams, pleads for him to stop because he's going to die- and dream doesn't give a shit. tommy’s surprised he's doing this, because dream would emphasize how him and tommy are friends, but here he is killing him. he feels tears accumulating in his eyes, poking at the corners, and his screams become croaks. pain flares in his everything , and he wants to be home, safe, with tubbo. a kick lands on the side of his head, and he gets knocked to the side. fuming heat spikes in his heart, bones, deep in his skin. it feels like lava is circling his heart.
he thinks he's dying, and that's painfully obvious, but tears helplessly stream down his cheeks and consciousness slips from his fingers.
as tommy goes limp, dream’s anger that had clogged his vision clears. he notices the blood gushing from tommy, the sprouting bruises, the burn marks. he looks pale- paler than ever. he's not breathing, dream doesn't see his chest moving. his gloved hand reaches and picks up tommy’s wrist, and he presses his thumb against his paper-thin skin. he doesn't hear a heartbeat.
dream swallows, because shit, this is bad, this is really, really bad, because he didn't mean to go this far. the kid was pushing his buttons, he didn't mean to lash out at him-
he stands before tommy’s lifeless body, and he rocks back on his heels. dream can feel tommy’s blood rushing down the side of his face, trailing over his eye, and dripping down to his upper lip.
dream listens to the drip drip drip of the obsidian and whispers, “ it’s quiet.”
tommyinnit has been slain by dream.
when tommy awakens, he opens his eyes weakly, slowly, then shuts them when he sees a blinding whiteness.
he can feel a deep ache throughout his body, and the slight shift of his body really hurts. all he can do is lay pathetically on the floor, breathing quietly. the memories from the cell flood back, and screams of stop! please! circle his brain. he remembers falling on the harsh floor that was very unwelcoming to his back.
he wonders if dream regrets it. it would be unlike him, because dream doesn't seem to regret anything, but as tommy said, “ you're just a sad little man behind that mask.” the kid wouldn't be surprised if dream was hiding tons of regrets behind a manic smirk, but tommy wasn't going to be the one to find out.
his eyes flutter, and he realizes there's a hand in his hair, stroking in a comforting manner. he leans into the touch, because such touch hasn't been given to him in what felt like decades. there's a gentle hum echoing, and he recognizes the voice, but he can't put his finger on it.
he hears the sound of a cap being unscrewed, following by the sound of swallowing. a sigh comes after, and quiet murmurs circle his head.
when his vision settles, he finds that his head is in someone's lap, and he can't find it in him to be embarrassed. not when the person holding him is wilbur.
tommy gasps, and wilbur’s hard gaze at whoever’s next to them shifts to soft and loving. tommy feels like he's staring at a ghost, but he definitely feels wilbur’s hand gently carding through his fluffy blonde hair.
his brother’s grin is small, but it's a sigh of relief from the crazed curl of the lips he saw a few months ago.
“ hey, tommy.” wilbur smiles. his brown eyes study him, and his smile doesn't fade. “ welcome home.”