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His head pounded. It was as if a sledgehammer had been sent into his skull . He couldn't remember why it was so painful but there wasn't much tat could be done about it. Sam wasn't due to give them more food for wat he assumed to be a day. Who knew how long it'd be really. Time had lost all meaning to Tommy, with no clock and Dream being the unhelpful bitch he was. He did what he wanted when you wanted because schedules were non-existant.
Most of his time in jail was spent singing high and off tune, or sleeping. Tommy knew the floor of Dream's prison like the back of his hand. This, was not the cell. The softness that seemed to engulf his head was not the carved blackstone he was used too. It felt like an actual feather pillow. Not when which was made from chicken drops but one with actual care for the feathers.
He wasn't in the prison, he wasn't with Dream.
Tommy couldn't open his eyes to find out who and where. It was one of the few things Phil had taught him that he still stuck by (There was no cutlery in prison and fuck kindness when your cellmate is a dick). Take care of yourself when you're sick. If that meant being helpless to a pounding headache ,which he didn't remember getting, then so be it. It wasn't that bad anyways. There were worse places to be and he couldn't hear anyone. His body wasn't held down.
Maybe he'd been taken out?
Someone grabbed his hand.
It wasn't the hooves of Puffy.
It wasn't the muddy hands of Sam.
They were tough, like sandpaper.
At the same time they were soft, as if it had been so long since they gathered any more scars.
Tommy only knew one person who had hands like that.
Wilbur Soot.
Wilbur Soot who was as dead as a doornail.
"Tommy, you're going to have to open your eyes. Whatever your feeling right now isn't going to pass. I can summon some healing potions if you want the pain to lessen?"
Wilbur Soot who sounded exactly like the voice talking to him.
That was enough for Tommy to look at where he was.
He was met with blinding light and a gag. Crashing back into the bed was the natural response. Wilbur cursed and pressed a bottle into his hand.
"Do you need help help drinking it or can you do it yourself?"
Despite the heaviness of his limbs, Tommy could drink a potion all by himself. He was tired not weak.
He missed the mark by a fair point. The pink liquid splattered down on the floor. The glass shattered. Tommy gasped, the only large amount of air he'd be getting for a while.
From there it was a struggle. From there it was garbled words as he tried to apologize to Wilbur. He'd wasted one of their resources and he had nothing to give.
There was another bottle in his hands,
"Calm down. Can you calm down for me? We have as many as you'll need. We can work on co-ordination and the dizziness later. Deep breaths Tommy."
Deep breaths.
Prime, how hadn't he thought of that?
Wilbur's second hand moved too his chest. "Follow me okay. Can you follow my breathing?"
Right, that was what he had to do. Weird but he could handle it. Wilbur's breaths were exaggerated. Following them was easier than if it hadn't been there.
The gasps started to slow down, then deepened.
Once it was calm enough that he wasn't dying, the healing potion was pressed against his lips.
Tommy wanted to press it away, he wanted to smash the bottle. They couldn't have that many as they claimed. He just wasn't in a position to do it.
The potion went down.
"Try get more sleep? It won't settle in for a while and you're probably still tired from dying. I'll wake you up in a hour yeah?"
Wait.
Who said anything about dying?
Waking up again, was slightly easier. First off was that someone was shaking him instead of having to come o terms with living all alone. The second fact was that he didn't have a headache. Or one that felt like his head was actibelt splitting apart.
He opened his eyes, shocked to see the double vision that he defiantly hadn't had before waking up. And Wilbur.
The memories of the last time he woke up popped up. Tommy shuffled up the bed to see the three over dead people staring at him.
Oh, that was was what they meant by dying.
"Tommy, is anything off right now? Like an impaired vision? Are you dizzy? We need to know just to make sure we don't just leave you on the ground or something."
"Visions impaired, the world isn't spinning though."
"Better than I expected with that head wound."
"Right, I'm dead?"
"Well, that or we all fucking came alive." Schlatt exclaimed, he had crossed his arms. To the left of him was a bottle. So he still had that habit apparently.
"So this is hell? I'm in hell after all I did?"
"More like purgatory. "
"mm, depends how you view it. It's good enough but definitely isn't haven."
"Would heaven have that much alcohol? No, neither of us deserve to be here. None of us in here deserve to go to heaven Schlatt. We had the conversation soon after coming didn't we."
Oh god, oh fuck, had it been like this when Tommy first arrived? When did Tommy first arrive? How long has he been dead?
"Eyy man, that isn't very nice of ya is it? We have bigger concerns don't we?" His finger was pointing at Tommy and all he wanted to do was curl in on himself.
the bickering went silent.
"We do don't we. Want to come see what we've made so far Tommy?"
The shift is so sudden, as if they don't care about the previous argument and it's all wrong. Wilbur is meant to hate Schlatt and he's meant to be trying to kill him, actively against him. Tommy is not suppose to be as worthy as land. The new version of L'manberg. that was imply how everything worked since the dream smp came into their ives. Why is it so different here than before.
He nodded, . Might as well seen what they've been up too since they died.
It turned out, he was dizzy, just not when he was in the bed. The world was twisting in funny angles. His attempts at walking straight and not alerting any of his world mates was failing. Tommy was toppling over grass he couldn't even see.
A hand pulled him into their waist, it was a pillar to keep up against.
"Did you really think you could hide that from me?"
"Yeah, actually. I did didn't I. I had you for a while."
"Awwww, did you think you were a big man? Did you think you could hide it from me?"
"I do not know what you're talking about."
"But you did. Don't lie to me Tommy. I know when you're lying."
"Show me these buildings then. Where are the buildings?"
Wilbur snorted and pulled Tommy towards the largest thing he had ever seen.
"This! This is my finished symphony!"
The world toppled for a while. He couldn't make out what Wilbur thought was his finished symphony. Not unfinished, not taken from him. Something he finally had for himself.
It was a...
It was a...
It was a casino.
A hto dog van.
A revelation.
That wasn't enough.
But a casino was?
Schlatt stared at the building as if his life had been taken into the after afterlife.
"You're competitive Solitaire arena? Really?"
"Well, I'm going to add that later aren't I! It's not actually finished yet Tommy but it's there on the most part. It's like, I can still build statues but the foundations are there! Come inside! We can play solitaire!"
"What the fuck is Solitaire?"
Pogtopian Wilbur was manifesting before his very eyes. Oh fuck, what had he done. Had not knowing what solitaire was actually just end his death? What universe was he living in?
As quickly as he came, Wilbur went back to what he been like previously. Jokey, touchy and okay. Safer.
"I'll have to teach you. I'm finally going to have someone to play competitive solitaire against. Schlatt here prefers poker but its okay. We play that too occasionally as well. Come inside with me, I'll teach you."
By the time Wilbur had finished explaining, Tommy was sick of solitaire. It seemed like a cool game and all for the first few seconds. Then he kept going on.
And on.
And on.
And on.
And on.
He didn't care if he 'always should play a two' or if 'you never move a card unless you have too'. Who gave a fuck about whether or not he should build an ace stack or not. 'Always turn up the first deck card only' well that would depend more on his mood than strategy. 'Always keep colour in mind' No shit Wilbur, it's almost as if that what the game was based off? Expose large stacks first? What even was a large stack?
He wanted to know how to play.
Tommy was dead, he had all the time in the world to learn the ins and outs of the game.
Wasn't the fun of playing a game learning the ins and outs with Wilbur or on his own? Or did that just not matter?
"So, do you want to play competitive solitaire with me!"
"I don't want to play competitive solitaire."
"Well how do you know that? You haven't even played it yet? Do you not want to pay attention to your dear friend? Your dear brother? We just met again for the first time in tears and all you can say is no? To my competitive solitaire? We have all the time in the world-"
"And what if I don't want to play competitive solitaire huh? We have all the time in the world blah blah blah. Why must I play solitaire now?"
"Well I just think if we have all the time in the world why don't we play solitaire now?"
"Then we can play it later? I think you're just being selfish."
"I would argue you're being selfish. Not playing with me-"
"I cannot hear you!" Tommy shouted, "I am sorry Wilbur I cannot hear you other the sound of me not playing solitaire."
"Well then do you want to see the town nearby all our ancestors made? It's nicer than round here but they've had millennia to make their place look nice. We're going to do it even sooner!"
"Yeah, because you totally have building skills. Where was the last pace was? Oh yeah, a ravine you didn't even like me decorating. I bet they didn't want you anywhere near them because of awful design skills. You're so bad at design skills."
Tommy couldn't see the town from where they were. The whole place was white.
A void.
That apparently had a town in it somewhere.
He wasn't going to question it. If they said it looked good, that was that.
"The kid has a point." Schlatt said as he floated above them all, "That probably was one of the reasons we were banned from that pace."
"Wait wait wait. You were actually banned?"
Wilbur was glaring at him. If looks could kill, Tommy would be long dead.
"They didn't want me to over throw them. I'm pass that though. I am pass overthrowing people for the sake of it. They aren't a tyrant like Dream. I would be worse for them. They know it. They aren't like the smp Tommy. They know I destroy everything I came into contact with, They're clever enough to keep me far away."
"Okay, I get it. You're salty people don't want to join you. Now let me see this house of yours so I can fix it and save it from your terrible skills."
"I... I don't think it's terrible Tommy. Schlatt and I spent a lot of time on our house."
The house was a shack.
You know what could have helped it! Some diamond blocks!
Tommy voiced his amazing idea. He was very rudely shot down by the two ex-presidents. They thought they're shack made from wood was p e r f e c t.
It could have done with some gold at the very least but even that was too far.
At least Mexican Dream agreed with him.
.