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“Dream please detain and escort Tommy out of my country,”
was the phrase that broke him. It was certainly a shock, a setback at surface level, but Tommy is strong and capable. He’d fought in wars and conflicts and survived thus far. He would be able to make a new home on his own. Anyone could visit him whenever they felt like it, and he wouldn’t even have to follow any rules the government put in place. He was free to do whatever he wanted as long as that wasn’t setting foot in L’manberg.
Right?
Well, Dream made quick work of that expectation.
As soon as the two were out of earshot, he led Tommy away.
Far, far away.
As the rain poured down from the skies, he confiscated every item Tommy had with him but the clothes on his back and the shoes on his feet, but Tommy still held his spirits high.
He’s a big man, he can do this.
Surely he’d make it through this.
Dream returned every single day, taking and burning everything he had worked for over and over...
Dream and Ghostbur built him a tent, Ghostbur built him a fort nearby, and Bad decorated it when he came to visit, but every material item he had was always demolished in smoke.
As strong as he tried to be, he was mentally deteriorating fast.
He missed his home. His real home.
He missed his friends. Quackity, Fundy, Niki,
And… Tubbo.
He wanted to stop thinking about him. His best friend had gone against their plan and just sent him away like it was nothing! He had betrayed him and sent him, unknowingly, into the hell Dream was creating,
but Tommy couldn’t help but miss him terribly.
Ranboo visited him often. In the first few days, they wrote to each other in a book they passed back and forth between them by leaving it in a box under Tommy’s mattress. Soon, those messages stopped coming, too.
“Ranboo has bigger problems. No one visits you anymore because everyone else has moved on!” Exclaimed Dream on the twelfth day of Tommy’s exile, standing up and casting a shadow into the tent. Tommy was sitting on his bed, looking up at Dream with hair over one eye.
“But I care about you, Tommy! That’s why I visit.” Continued Dream. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Once Dream had left, Tommy laid down on his side, curled into the smallest form he could manage.
Did really no one care about him? But- they were his friends! He cared for them! He would have died for them if it came to that. Did they ever reciprocate?
Would anyone care if he died?
Suddenly a face flashed across his mind. A face, then a smile, then a laugh.
Tubbo.
Surely, after everything, Tubbo still cared about him, even if just the slightest bit. They had been through so much together, they had each other's backs when no one else did, they risked their lives for the other’s safety.
But surely if that was true, he would be out here each and every day. Tommy surely would've, had the roles been reversed.
He tucked his head into his knees as tears threatened to escape his eyes.
No no, he’s a big man, he doesn’t-
A tear slipped down the side of his face, landing on the bedsheet with a small sound he wouldn’t have been able to hear had it not been for the deafening silence that surrounded him.
His body began to shake with sobs, and he cried. He screamed unintelligibly, not to anyone or for anything, just pure grief, fear of the unknown, and loss of what once was.
He was completely and utterly isolated.
Tommy awoke the next morning as the new rays of the sunrise broke through the thin fabric of Tnret. He groaned quietly as he pushed himself up, noticing how scratchy his throat felt at the action. It must have been from all the crying.
He sat, hunched over himself on the side of his bed, his feet on the floor. This makes- nearly 2 weeks of exile? Damn. He was not doing as well as he thought he would. 3 weeks ago, the thought of being isolated with absolutely nothing 100 kilometres away from his friends wouldn’t have even been an idea possible without seeming incredibly insane.
Were they even his friends anyways?
It doesn’t matter.
At the thought, the back of his throat tickled, and Tommy coughed weakly. The feeling didn’t go away, so he coughed a little harder this time, but still, it remained.
Water.
Shit- the canteen was in Logstedshire.
Tommy ducked out of the tent, coughing violently. He tried to draw in air, but such an action was only met with more of a need to cough.
He sprinted as fast as he could to Logstedshire, but he was losing oxygen fast.
He just had to get water before he passed out choking on his own spit in isolation-
He coughed harder than he had so far, just at the entrance of Logstedshire. The sensation finally ceased as Tommy finally hacked up the source. It wasn’t his own saliva, well not fully.
It was a single, pink flower petal.
Tommy stared at it, resting in the dust, with wide eyes.
“What the fuck.” He said under his breath.
Had he- eaten something maybe?
No, he hadn’t eaten a whole-ass flower. Besides, it's December. No such flowers are even around for him to even do such a thing in the first place.
“TOMMY!”
Tommy spun around to face the voice, finding Dream standing in all his smile-mask glory at the portal.
Tommy quickly kicked dirt over the petal, putting on a smile.
“Hey, Dream.” He returned.
“Tommy- why is your face so red?”
Tommy had to force his eyes from going wide. That would be a sure give-away to a lie, no matter what he said.
“I just had a coughing fit, that’s all. I’m good now.”
Dream nodded. “You get water?”
Tommy nodded.
“Good. Have any items?”
“No, I’ve only just woke up.”
“Okay. Let’s get started. What do you want to do today?”
It was 10 pm that evening when the same thing happened again.
Tommy was lying flat in his tent, eyes looking up, but unable to see anything but the pitch black of the night air. Tommy was again deep in thought, trying to think about anything other than L’manberg. Other than home.
The conscious effort to divert his thoughts only made it worse.
He missed home so, so much.
He released a deep sigh, and that’s when he felt it.
The same itch as last time.
Oh no.
His gag reflex kicked in, and Tommy sat up straight, leaning over the side of the bed. Since this morning, he knew a little better how to force the petals out of his throat, assuming it was still the same cause
He coughed harder and harder, eventually hacking up the source. He couldn’t see the damage in the dark, and after a moment of contemplation, he determined that he did need to dispose of the evidence just in case Dream arrived before he awoke.
Stepping carefully around where he knew the pile to be, he carefully opened his chest, feeling around for a lantern and a box of matches. Upon finding both, he brought the fire to the wick and turned to see the damage.
Earlier, there had been just one flower petal,
He counted them carefully.
...and now there were three
He stared at them until his vision went blurry.
How was this happening? Why was this happening? Why to him? What did he do to deserve hacking up fucking flower petals?
He had just, so many questions. So many questions he didn’t know how to ask.
Who would he present with the question of ‘why am I violently hacking up flower petals?’
Exile hadn’t made him crazy quite yet. He wasn’t ready to be the maniac of the server.
Tommy knelt, carefully collecting the three flower petals and carrying them down to the ocean. The ocean was always scarier when it was nothing but a dark void, hearing the tide come in, Tommy held his hand just above the sand. Sure enough, the sea collected them from his hand, safely carrying them away.
No one had to know.
Since that night, Tommy hadn’t coughed up another flower petal. Until the evening of day nine.
Dream usually stayed with him from eight or nine in the morning to one in the afternoon, sometimes assisting Tommy in his survival mission and other times spending his day ridiculing everything Tommy did.
Today, Dream had arrived much later than usual, at just about high noon. He stayed with Tommy as the sun set, even treating him to a campfire and a bench made out of a single log.
Tommy was at first suspicious of the gifts, but then he remembered what Dream had told him.
“But I care about you, Tommy!”
Perhaps Dream really was helping him. Maybe what he told him was true. Maybe the insults and comments were just intended to be in his best interest.
Tommy sat beside Dream, on the far side of the log, but still beside him. He stared into the fire almost longingly, or maybe it was longingly. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.
He wanted everything to be okay. He hadn’t been able to remain calm since he coughed up that first flower petal. He hadn’t been able to remain calm since he first thought of Tubbo, of Tubbo having forgotten him. Of Tubbo having left him behind. He missed him. He wanted everything to be okay between the two of them he-
Something caught in his throat.
No no no no no no-
The dull sounds of Dream saying something rung in the back of his ears.
Don’t interrupt what he’s-
He was suddenly gripped with violent coughs. Worse than the first time and worse than the second time. This time, it pushed against the inside of his throat. He was fully unable to breathe, and each cough burned his throat.
“You good?”
Tommy shook his head quickly, gesturing for help.
Dream obliged, patting him on the back, forcing Tommy’s body forward a little.
Tommy felt the source coming up, so he turned away from the fire so Dream couldn’t see.
He reached into his mouth just a little, pulling on the object his hand made contact with. He looked at it in his hand, shielding it from Dream with his body.
The head of an entire flower rested on his palm. He couldn’t tell exactly what colour it was, but based on the last two times this had happened, he guessed it to be pink.
“Tommy?”
Tommy immediately dropped the flower beside him and turned to face Dream. The pain lingered in his throat and he took a moment to catch his breath.
“Yeah, sorry. Think I’m coming down with something.”
Dream tilted his head.
“Yeah? I’ll bring a health potion from L’manberg tomorrow. Speaking of L’manberg, I should probably get home. I have work to do.”
Tommy nodded. “I’ll clean this all up by tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. This pit can stay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a reward. You have obeyed everything I ask of you.”
“T-thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Mhm. Bye Tommy.”
As soon as Dream disappeared through the portal, he let out a sigh of relief. Dream hadn’t noticed him cough up a full flower head. He had bought his lie and would be bringing him a health potion. Maybe that could help with his- condition, whatever it was.
Tommy returned to his tent, relighting the same lantern before walking back over to the bench. He knelt down with the lantern in front of him, squinting at the flower.
His eyes widened in horror.
Resting in the dust, surrounding the flower, was a small puddle of blood. His stomach felt like it did a flip. Something was very wrong with him. He had heard of times people coughed up blood, but never flower petals, and definitely not both.
Nothing made sense, so he ignored it.
Tommy gently picked up the flower, walked back over to the beach, and set it free in the tides once again. He returned to the bench, kicking dirt over the blood.
No one was going to know.
As the days wore on, Tommy continued to cough up flowers. Sometimes it was a bunch of petals, sometimes it was the flower head, and other times the only thing that came out of his mouth was the stem. Sometimes he coughed only blood. Sometimes his chest hurt so much it was hard to breathe.
Dream brought him a health potion the day after he coughed up his first full flower as promised, and Tommy drank it as fast as he could. The warmth it spread over his body was a short period of relief, causing his chest to loosen and the pain to subside.
But it couldn’t last.
As the days wore on, each flower was accompanied by more and more pain in his chest and blood on the floor. It seemed the health potion hadn't solved the problem as he had hoped. He had never seen a case where a health potion or regeneration potion didn’t solve an illness if that’s even what he had at all.
On the sixteenth day of his exile and the ninth day of his sickness, things took a turn for the worst.
When Tommy had awoken in the morning, he immediately coughed up blood and petal over the side of the bed onto the floor. He tried to move to clean it up or at least cover it up, but the only response he was met with was another flower.
This time, the flower petals were a dark burgundy.
He recognized these ones at least. They were rose petals.
He didn’t have a moment to process before a sharp lasting pain ripped through his throat. He would have screamed if his windpipe wasn’t blocked. He coughed violently, unable to breathe. He reached in his mouth, gripping the head of a flower and pulling it out. Even more pain tore through him, but the culprit was removed.
A Rose.
A Rose with its full stem.
A Rose with all its thorns.
Tommy let out a low sob upon seeing the thorns. The thorns that had torn at his insides.
Would these flowers be his fate? Condemned to unending pain at the hands of thorns?
His body felt weak as he kicked dirt over the blood. He wiped the blood from his chin and pulled the thin blanket he had over his chest, which had amassed a bit of blood from the coughs. He knew he didn’t have the materials or the strength to try and remove the blood from his shirt.
Coincidentally, today was the day Ranboo decided to visit.
Tommy didn’t hear the portal in his delirious state, or maybe he was preoccupied with the pain in his chest. Blood flowed continuously from his mouth even without coughing. When he did cough, blood poured from his lips like water in a pitcher.
Tommy didn’t hear when Ranboo called his name. He didn’t hear when Ranboo walked up the path to the tent. Tommy only noticed his presence when he ducked his head into the tent.
“Tommy? Are you oka-” He stopped his sentence abruptly. His eyes going wide.
“You- You’re- there’s blood all over your mouth! What happened?”
Tommy tried to speak, but he only coughed violently, coughing up blood onto the floor. Luckily, no flowers came up this time.
“Oh my- Tommy?!” Ranboo rushed over to his side, putting a hand on his back and lightly rubbing circles into it. He could feel his spine and ribs distinctly protruding out of his shirt. Tommy put his head back on the pillow, a steady stream of silent tears fell from his eyes and onto the fabric.
“I- I’ll get help!” Ranboo turned to run, but Tommy grabbed his wrist. His hands were so, so cold. He looked up at him with pleading eyes, unable to muster words.
“Tommy I need to get you help! I don’t know how to treat you-” Tommy loosened his grip, but didn’t fully let go.
“I- I’ll bring you a health potion, okay? I’ll get Dream or someone to treat you. Just hang in there, okay?” Tommy nodded weakly, dropping Ranboo’s hand.
Ranboo pushed Tommy’s hair out of his eyes. Tommy’s forehead was nearly as cold as his hands.
“I’ll be back.”
Ranboo sprinted faster than he ever had before to the portal and down the bridge. Tommy could be moments from death, and as far as he knew, he was the only one aware or at least aware of the serenity of the situation.
Just as he neared the portal into the greater SMP lands, he was met face to face with someone he both didn’t want to see and needed to find.
“Dreamdreampleasehurrytommyhurtbloodcoughidontknowhattodo-”
“Woah, slow down there. What’s happening?”
Ranboo took in a quick inhale before starting again, slower this time.
“I went to visit Tommy and he’s very weak and coughing up blood! I don’t know what to do and I need help.”
Dream’s eyes went wide behind his mask, but he stayed still.
“Are- are you going to help him?”
Dream nodded.
“I’ll handle it. You go and rest. I’ll bring him a health potion.”
“I- can I come with you? I want to be by his side-”
“No. Stay here.”
Dream’s aggressive tone startled Ranboo, but he nodded.
“Can I come back tomorrow, assuming he- he doesn’t-”
“No. I’m sure he’s fine. Now go.”
Ranboo nodded, walking back to the portal. He knew that Dream’s words alone couldn't keep him away. He saw Tommy’s condition. He was pale. He was cold. He was weaker than Ranboo had ever seen someone, or had he? Something in the back of his mind told him he had seen something like this before.
Something in the back of his mind told him he had seen this exactly before.
He just- couldn’t remember.
Tommy again didn’t hear as Dream approached his tent. To be completely fair, Dream wasn’t making much noise as he made his way up the hill in no rush. He had a grin on his face behind the mask. Whatever sickness Tommy had could be used against him. Maybe Dream could force him to behave by holding a remedy over his head.
Dream wasn’t expecting as much blood as there was. There was blood on the walls, the bedsheets, the pillow, the floor, and all over the source.
Tommy had blood on his hands, his chin, his neck, his shirt, his eyes from wiping the ever-flowing tears. He was deathly pale, a stark contrast to the crimson blood.
Tuberculosis, perhaps?
He hadn’t seen it in years, but he knew that Tuberculosis of the lungs causes the victim to cough up blood. He hadn’t ever seen it in these quantities, this looked more like a murder scene than the product of an illness, but it’s all the same.
“Tommy? What happened?” He laughed.
Tommy didn’t respond, only looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.
A single drop of blood escaped the side of his mouth.
“Hey, chill. It’s probably Tuberculosis or something.”
Tommy knew it wasn’t tuberculosis, but he nodded anyway.
“I guess the last potion was just faulty. I’ll give you another one.” Dream reached into his bag and pulled out a corked vial of a red-pink glowing liquid.
Tommy reached a shaky hand out, but Dream wasn’t done quite yet. What fun was it if Tommy was cured right away? No no, Dream could get so much fun out of this.
“Mmm… I don’t know, Tommy. Do you really deserve this?”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, but only a hoarse cough escaped his lips, along with a substantial amount of blood.
‘Please.’ He said with only his lips.
Dream pushed his mask up so Tommy could see his grin. Dream shook his head.
“I’m not so sure about that. You know, I always thought exile wasn’t as bad as it came across.”
Tommy’s eyes were wide.
“Maybe you can hang tight for a bit. You know, really getting a punishment that fits the crime, you know?”
Tears from freely down Tommy’s cheeks. Dream enjoyed looking at the look in his eyes. He knew he was completely at Dream’s mercy.
Dream turned to leave, but he was met by a whimper from Tommy.
“Oh? Do you want the potion? Are you sure? Don’t you think Tubbo would-”
Tommy immediately coughed violently, he leaned over the side of the bed as best he could.
Dream didn’t notice the two rose petals covered in blood among the mess.
“Mmm, okay. You can have the potion. I’ll have to bring you to justice another time.” Said Dream with a sigh, uncorking the bottle and handing it over.
Tommy downed it like a shot, desperate for relief.
“You should be fully recovered in two days. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Tommy didn’t try to stop him, only laying down on the pillow. The pain in his chest grew lighter. He felt his hands become filled with the warmth of the potion. His throat still burned, but he could almost feel each physical wound from the thorns repair itself.
Maybe Dream was right and the last potion had been faulty. He knew better than Tommy, right?
But yet again, the potion effects only brought short relief.
Yet again, the pain came back worse than before. His hands were the first thing to revert. Before they had been freezing, now they were numb. The pain in his chest returned suddenly, summoning a whimper from Tommy. Tears returned to his eyes.
His throat tingled again. He coughed violently, unable to breathe again.
No please, not again.
The thorns tore through his freshly healed throat, the tissue still delicate and tender.
When the rose finally emerged, it came with more blood than he had seen in a single cough so far. Just when he thought that would be over for at least a moment, it happened again.
Rose after rose,
Thorn after thorn,
Petal after petal,
For hours upon hours.
He didn’t sleep that night. He was so exhausted as he continued to hack up the flowers all through the night.
He sobbed the whole time, his eyes aching from the tears and lack of sleep.
As the night wore on, he became colder. His chest hurt more and more and his vision blurred. He noticed as the sun began to rise on the, but his blurry vision made it hard to see anything. He couldn’t make out the outline of each flower, only seeing the giant dark void of blood.
He layed back in bed, his head in his hands. He just wanted this to be over, and based on the state of his condition, maybe he wouldn’t have long to wait. Blood gathered in his throat, and he leaned over the side of the bed to spit it out.
Up came another rose, tearing at his insides, ripping his throat. Eventually, he was able to grip it tight enough to pull it free, dropping it on the others.
“Tommy?!”
Tommy fell back to his pillow, still sobbing from the pain.
Ranboo ran over to him, kneeling and looking from him to the pile of maybe three dozen roses on the floor.
“You- You’re coughing up roses!” Tommy made eye contact with Ranboo, giving him a dazed entreating look. Ranboo tucked his hair behind his ear, hardly caring about touching a piece soaked in blood. Blood on his hands was the least of his worries unless the blood was metaphorical.
He needed to save him.
“We need to get back to L’manberg and fast. I- I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”
Tommy nodded, his eyes staring past Ranboo’s head. Ranboo tucked one hand behind Tommy’s neck and the other under his knees. Ranboo wasn’t sure exactly how long Tommy had been sick, but however many days had caused Tommy a dramatic weight loss. Ranboo didn’t even have to strain himself to pick him up, and he could feel his spine poking out at the back of his neck.
Ranboo didn’t know a lot of things about what had happened to Tommy, but instincts kicked in.
Holding Tommy close and carefully monitoring his condition, Ranboo began to sprint to the portal. Once through the portal, he ran faster than he had when seeking help from Dream even with Tommy in his arms. Speaking of Dream, where was he? Why hadn’t he helped Tommy?
“Who do I take you to? Who do you need, Tommy?”
Tommy looked up at him again, blood trickling down from his mouth. He coughed lightly, sending an array of blood-soaked rose petals flying past them like some horrible confetti.
“Tubbo.” He croaked out. The first words Ranboo had heard Tommy say in weeks.
“Okay. I’ll get you to L’manberg. To Tubbo.”
Tommy began to cough violently all of the sudden, his eyes going wide with fear. He knew what was coming.
He sat up a little more, reaching up and using Ranboo’s neck for support. Tommy hacked up yet another rose, all its thorns, all its petals, and all his tears.
Ranboo felt a tear of his own fall from his eye, sizzling upon contact with his skin. Crying hurt him more than anything, but he couldn’t stop himself this time.
Ranboo needed a clear passage to safety to L’manberg, and yet fate tried again to stop him.
Ranboo met the man he really, truly this time, did not want to see.
Dream,
Again.
Dream looked down at Tommy then back up at Ranboo.
“You’re not thinking of taking him back to L’manberg, are you? You do remember he happens to be exiled from both there and the place on the other side of this portal, yes?”
‘Dream was slain by Ranboo’
Fate tried to stop him, but he wasn’t playing games anymore.
Ranboo sprinted down the prime path. The sunrise lit his way and the red sky reminded him of his goal. Save Tommy by any means necessary.
Save Tommy, get to Tubbo.
People were staring at him as he ran, but Ranboo didn’t pay attention to who was there and who was yelling at him.
Save Tommy, get to Tubbo.
Ranboo continued to run as a small pack of people began to follow him.
Tommy coughed up some petals that flew behind him, and Ranboo felt them stop their quest.
Ranboo briefly remembers someone yelling the phrase “What the fuck” as they came in contact with the bloodied petals.
The walls of L’manberg came into his view. He was so close.
He ran across the bridge over the river to L’manberg. In the distance, people were outside their houses, watching as he entered the city.
Standing at the entrance of the city, was Quackity, almost like a guard or border control.
“RANBOO, WHAT ARE YOU-” Quackity stopped when he noticed Tommy. The blood on his face, how pale and weak he looked, and of course, the blood-covered rose weakly held at his side.
“What the- what’s wrong with him?!”
“He- I don’t have time to explain,” Panted Ranboo, “but I need to get to Tubbo- Please.”
“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but as long as I stay with you-”
Ranboo didn’t even confirm the offer before he sprinted through the city, Quackity chased after him as best he could.
As they approached the white house entrance, Fundy stood by the door, watching as Ranboo and Quackity made their way to them.
“GET TUBBO! NOW!” Yelled Quackity with a sense of urgency. Fundy nodded and ran inside.
As Ranboo reached the door, Tubbo and Fundy came back outside.
“Ranboo what’s going-” He too was silent when he saw Tommy.
“Set him down, here in the grass.” Said Tubbo quietly and with a shaky breath.
Ranboo did as instructed, gently placing Tommy on the ground. Tubbo knelt, leaned over him, holding his head up with his hands.
Tommy looked up, making eye contact with Tubbo immediately sent him into fits of coughing. He coughed up some blood into his hands, along with a few rose petals. He fell back into Tubbo’s arms, shaking slightly with a mix of every emotion.
Tubbo froze, feeling tears in his eyes.
“You have hanahaki disease.” He whispered, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair.
Tubbo pulled Tommy’s increasingly limp body closer.
“Why- how? Tommy-”
Tommy looked into his eyes, blood running freely down his chin and eyes bloodshot. A smile on his lips as he spoke weakly.
“I missed you, Tubbo.”
Tears suddenly and without warning became a waterfall from Tubbo’s eyes. His face contorted into an expression of pure horror.
“No no no- Tommy please- I love you! I’m so, so sorry- please don’t leave me, I love you, please!”
His voice dissolved into sobs by the end, only crying and pleading and reassuring Tommy that he loved him and begging him to please, please stay.
“Y- you do?” Asked Tommy, almost too quiet and hoarse to hear.
“Yes! With every bone in my body- please don’t go, I love you-”
At the last ‘I love you’, Tommy suddenly began to cough violently, leaning his face towards the ground. First came blood, then came petals, soon came more roses, and finally, up came roots.
Roots.
Tubbo assisted in freeing the roots from Tommy’s throat, allowing him to finally breathe.
When the last of them came up, Tommy collapsed back in Tubbo’s arms.
“I’m so, so sorry, Tommy.” Said Tubbo with a tear rolling down his cheek, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Tubzo. It’s okay..”