Chapter Text
Tommy hated the cold.
He hadn’t always. It used to remind him of playing with his brothers and Phil made them tea. It used to remind him of swimming way too early in the year. It would remind him of Tubbo’s weird cold hands. It used to remind him of home.
Nowadays, Tommy wonders why he ever loved it. Cold tells him how he should probably be dead, skin stretched around cold bones and an empty stomach that pinched him. Reminds him of the ocean he wakes up in everyday, with ice cold water filling his lungs as he tries desperately to get to land and cough it all out. It’s what surrounds him at night, when he’s alone in his tent on something that barely counted as a bed and a shitty blanket.
Tommy’s sure he looks like shit. But no one cares enough to actually check on him. Even Dream, his best friend, had finally grown tired of him. Tommy had been trying so hard to be on his best behavior so he could have at least some company now that Ghostbur had abandoned him.
It didn’t work, obviously. Now he was alone. Sitting in the nether, staring at the bubbling lava below him. In his hand he had his discs and the compass. He didn’t need the compass anymore, Tubbo hated him, was so annoyed with Tommy that he had exiled him. Tommy wonders briefly what would happen if Wilbur had fallen down this road, rather than the one that led to Tommy’s home being destroyed.
Tommy kept the compass.
Some small part of him hoped for someone to walk through the portal, he didn’t hope for them to worry or care for him, he wasn’t stupid, but he did want someone to see. So more than just him and the mobs walking around aimlessly, and the lava that would soon consume him.
It didn’t matter.
On shaky legs he stood up, stretching out his nonexistent muscles and shuffled just a little closer to the edge of the pathway leading back to his…. home. Tommy sets the compass down, part of him hoping that it somehow stays with him even if he leaves it there and the other part hoping he never sees it again.
He held the discs close to his chest, softly humming how Chirp, Tommy hopes he gets to meet Clara and give her her disc back.
Dry, hot air enters weak and damaged lungs, burning Tommy’s throat. He smiled, he would finally be free.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he flew somewhere better.
Tommyinnit tried swimming in lava. 0 lives left.
-
Nobody was really sure what to do.
This was the fourth permadeath. Wilbur and Schlatt had come back, but Mexican Dream had stayed dead. Would Tommy come back?
Why was Tommy even in the Nether in the first place?
Tubbo stared at his communicator, willing the message to change, but it never did. Tubbo prayed that Tommy had just fallen or was attacked, because the idea of his best friend killing himself… God, what had Tubbo done.
-
Phil, Techno, and Ghostbur had been together when they got the message.
A few moments beforehand Ghostbur had begun freaking out, crying and shaking but unable to actually tell the two men what was wrong. He didn’t have to say anything, because once their communicators beeped loudly, they knew who Ghostbur had felt entering the void.
Phil stayed and comforted Ghostbur, silently grieving the fact that he lost another son. Phil learned later that Techno had left to pack, demanding they go to L’manburg and learn about what had happened to his youngest brother.
The blond could only agree.
-
Tubbo had sent out a party, in hopes of finding Tommy’s body, and even if everyone knew it was pointless, they still searched anyway, hoping maybe the lava hadn’t swallowed Tommy whole.
He had set up a city wide meeting, discussing the plans of Tommy’s memorial and burial. Tubbo held in his emotions, even as he heard Niki sobbing, and Quackity’s yelling telling them all that Tommy couldn’t actually be dead, and even as a crying Phil entered with a distressed Ghostbur and angry Technoblade at hand.
Tubbo could barely process what had been happening, just focusing on getting his speech done and setting up the next meeting. Phil’s eyes remained on the young president the entire time. The blond was ignored.
The second the meeting ended Tubbo fled, offering a quick half thought comment about relieving Techno and Phil’s exile until after the memorial, and then locked himself in his office.
-
It wasn’t sure what had happened. It remembered flying high above an orange ocean before falling down to swim. It didn’t swim for long.
It had discs. It remembered the discs, the discs had meant something. It hums one, it thinks it’s the disc ‘Chirp’, it’s voice gargled and raspy. It remembers a compass. The compass would lead home.
It stood up on shaky legs, stretched out its large flaming orange wings and began it’s search for the compass.
-
The compass hadn’t been hard to find. It was close to where it woke up. The compass was named ‘My Tubbo’, the compass’ name reminded it it’s name was Theseus.
Theseus felt a sour feeling enter his mouth at the name, but Theseus needed to get home rather than worry about that. Wherever home was.
-
On the way home, Theseus passed by a lake. He knew he couldn’t touch the water, the water would hurt his wings, but he stared into it. It was different than his orange ocean, lava a piglin had told him. Theseus knew he looked different, but wasn’t sure exactly what had changed.
He was covered in soot and dirt, hot orange tears always seemed to be falling from his eyes, his wings glew softly surrounding him in a soft yellow light, drips of lava and feathers of fire and embers would fall from them occasionally. His hands and feet were burned black like the shores of the lava ocean.
Theseus’ eyes were blue. Like the lake. Everything else reminded him of his orange ocean, except his eyes. A small headache formed as images of people he recognized but couldn’t but a name too entered his mind.
A blond birdman like him. A young boy with horns and a big smile. A piglin hybrid with bright blue weapons. A tall musician with fire in his eyes.
Theseus frowned. Theseus liked remembering, but he only seemed to remember the bad things. Remember people who had hurt him. He hoped his Tubbo hadn’t hurt him.
His stare flipped back and forth between his wings and eyes.
The birdman was named Phil. Phil had killed the musician. Phil had hurt Theseus.
Lava burned hotter as it slid down Theseus’ cheeks. He needed to get home.
-
Theseus had learned he hated loud noises. Loud noises reminded him of the musician. Flashes of the musician’s loud joyful laugh turning to screechy shouts demanding revenge and death. Explosions going off around him, before Theseus could handle fire. His skin burns hot when he thinks of the musician. Theseus knows the musician is dead. Theseus still misses Wilbur.
He also sees the masked man. The masked man was loud in the way that his voice was everywhere, telling Theseus to put his belongings in a hole so the masked man could blow them up. The masked man made him feel sick around the color green. He hated the masked man. He hated Dream.
Theseus would also see the young boy that liked bees dying in his arms. A loud firework had been shot into his chest and killed him. The piglin had done that, before surrounding Theseus in flashes and bursts of destruction. The piglin’s loud voice screaming Thesues’ name before demanding for his death rang in his ears. Theseus was scared of the piglin, he was scared of Technoblade.
-
Whenever Theseus remembered the rivers of lava falling down his face would get worse, burning the grass or branches below him.
As it became more frequent, he had learned how to continue on his journey despite the tears blurring his vision. The closer he got to home, the more he remembered what had happened to him.
His death was clearer now. He had jumped. He hadn’t wanted to come back.
Yet he was cursed to remain forever. The undying flame of the phoenix, always destined to rise from the ashes.
Theseus felt less happy the more he remembered. The boy with the large smile had been Theseus’ best friend before he had banished him. Theseus remembers the cold, the loneliness, the betrayal. His Tubbo was the one to lead him to Theseus’ orange ocean.
He wishes he could hate His Tubbo, but he still yearned for His Tubbo’s hugs and laugh and smile. He wants the boy to be there with him. He hates himself for wishing for someone that doesn’t care.
-
Sometimes, he would remember the warm things. A girl with pink hair, Niki he thinks, baking and laughing at something the musician, Wilbur had said. The piglin and the bird, Technoblade and Phil sparring. Excited voices screaming and cheering for Theseus, for Tommy .
Tommy liked those memories. They felt so warm and fuzzy his tears would burn though his shirt as they dripped down. He likes thinking about what once was his family, it tells him he wasn’t always hated. People had loved him once.
Maybe people could love him again.
He hoped he could still be loved, even as a monster.
-
Walking up to the gates of his home resembled the grainy image of it in his head. The sign above the gate stating it to be L’manberg. L’manberg was something the musician, Wilbur had created.
Tommy felt his body feel much warmer as pushed the gate open and walked along the streets of the familiar yet foreign city. His ears could pick up a multitude of sounds coming from one area, one he assumed to be the city square.
His wings remained tense, because even with the knowledge that he wouldn’t die, Tommy still knew he could be walking into a group of people that wanted him dead. As he got closer he saw flowers and signs. Had someone passed? Should he have gotten a gift to give the family?
The closer he got, the better he saw a large picture displayed on a stage behind a podium. The picture looked familiar. Tommy hadn’t seen the boy in his memories before. Had he joined the city when Tommy had left?
Tommy was now standing right in front of the stage and was carefully following the sign below the picture.
20XX-20XX
Theseus ‘Tommy’ Innit
A beloved hero and friend
Oh, it was a funeral for him, but why? He knew he was hated, so why would he have a funeral? He didn’t get much time to ponder on it before he was started out of his thoughts by a voice he could barely connect to a face.
“T-Tommy? What happened to you?” His Tubbo was sad. Maybe Tommy shouldn’t have come back.