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Chapter Text

After an entire week in exile, Tommy has found himself falling into the gruelling routine which Dream has set for him.

He wakes up, collects anything he gained from the previous days and waits for Dream’s arrival by the shore. When Dream arrives either minutes or hours later, Tommy claws at the ground until there is a hole deep enough to suffice. Tommy drops his items and watches as they are blown to bits in front of his very eyes. 

After Dream deems he has had enough fun with Tommy, whether by threatening to blow up his tent, telling him stories of how happy everyone is in L’manberg, or even just giving him a couple more bruises to add to the mirage covering his body, he leaves.

Tommy then picks himself up and forces himself to work through the pain, gathering enough ores to create a pristine set of armour for the next day.

By the end, Tommy barely is able to drag himself back to his original tent and lay across the bed before passing out. Ready to start the cycle again the next day.

Tonight had been no different.

He’d gone through the motions of the day. Barely even flinching at the explosion from his and Dream’s “ritual.” He’d gathered some extra iron for tomorrow and even made sure to get a couple of diamonds as well. 

Maybe Dream would reward him for the extra work. Tommy could only hope after what happened. Dream had seemed even more irritated today. His patience had been short and his temper even shorter. 

When Tommy had quietly asked about the whereabouts of Ghostbur, Dream had blown up. Any progress Tommy thought he gained from his lack of reaction to the TNT explosion was lost when Dream whirled on him and snapped at him. 

He tried to apologize, maybe lessen the blow, but the man had only gotten more heated. Tommy ended up with a new black eye and a snap of “Nobody cares about you Tommy, not even your family. Nobody, but me. Never forget that.”

After dragging himself into bed that night, Tommy curled up under the thin sheet of wool Ghostbur had gathered for him from a sheep nearby. One of the last ones, before Dream had purposefully killed the rest stating that “Tommy needed to work harder if he wanted a nice meal”.

Shaking himself of any reminder of what was to come the next day, Tommy turned over and stared silently at the wall of the tent. He shut his eyes tightly and silently hoped that he was at least allowed a pleasant dream. He allowed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside the makeshift tent to lull him to sleep.

-

Tommy wakes to silence. For a small moment, he allows himself to groggily turn over in his bed in the hopes of falling back to sleep before Dream arrives. Maybe he can even get a full 8 hours. 

He absentmindedly reaches for the blankets covering his body and pulls them closer around him.

Wait.

Tommy shoots up from his bed and immediately realizes that something is very wrong. Firstly, he is definitely not in Logstedshire. Secondly, he has no clue where he is.

The room is entirely unfamiliar. Way too big to be any place on the SMP, at least any he recognizes. Everything in the room feels ten sizes too big and way too expensive for Tommy to be anywhere near it. 

Not to mention the bed he woke up on is better than any he has slept on in his entire life. 

Even back before all the wars and fighting, when he was growing up outside the DreamSMP lands, his bed back home couldn’t even compare. The mattress itself feels like a cloud and the blankets are softer than any he’s ever felt before.

Tommy hadn’t even slept in a proper room since before the first exile with Wilbur. Even after reclaiming L’manburg, Tommy found himself too busy trying to rebuild to focus on finding a proper place to sleep. 

Usually, he’d bother Tubbo during the day and trudge his way back to the bench at night, falling asleep on the last remaining piece of peace. The only thing untouched from all the wars.

At the thought of Tubbo, Tommy’s blood runs cold. With shaking fingers, he reaches blindly towards his chest hoping to feel the comforting piece of metal which connects him to his best friend. Even when his fingers only meet the silk(?) pyjamas he’s wearing, Tommy quickly fumbles around the bed searching for any sign of the compass. 

He throws the blankets off the bed, lifts the sheets, and even searches beneath the pillows. He can’t lose this compass. It’s the only thing he’s been able to protect during exile. 

How could he have lost it?!

Just as Tommy gets ready to crawl beneath the bed in his haste to find the compass, he hears a knock against the door.

Tensing, Tommy waits for the door to burst open and Dream to enter. Ready for the inevitable punishment he’ll receive for leaving exile.

He hopes it’s not his own life

Before Tommy can panic any further, an unrecognizable voice calls out, “Prince Tommy, are you awake?”

Prince?

Tommy has been called a lot of things in his life: brat, soldier, Vice President, brother, Theseus. But Prince? Tommy must be dreaming. 

Worried by his lack of answer, the knocking sounds again. “Prince Tommy?” The voice repeats hurriedly, “Are you awake?”

Unsure how to respond, Tommy hesitantly calls out, “Yeah?”

“Oh good! Breakfast is ready, and I’ve been asked to escort you.” 

Tommy pauses. On the one hand, he’s still very unsure of what is going on and where he is. He’d very much prefer to play it safe and avoid losing his last life being reckless.

On the other hand, he’d like to know what the hell is happening, and he sure isn’t going to find answers trapped in this room.

Making up his mind, he stands and approaches the chest of drawers at the front of the room. Opening it, he quickly pulls out the first shirt and pants he finds. Satisfied, he quickly throws them on and heads to leave.

Tommy spots a soft blue cape hanging by the door. It looks… familiar. Might as well. Shrugging, he wraps it around his shoulders before opening the door.

He’s met with the sight of a man dressed in a guard uniform. Not giving Tommy any time to process, the man bows in Tommy’s direction before swiftly moving down the hallway. 

Tommy lets out a quiet curse before rushing to follow. Along the walk, Tommy makes sure to take note of the surrounding. He’s definitely in a castle. With the large windows and grand hallways, Tommy feels very out of place. This place is huge.

However, as intimidating as it is being in an unfamiliar place, the castle hallways don’t feel threatening. The castle feels strangely lived-in. Almost like home. He wonders who lives here.

Making their way through the corridors doesn’t take long, and before he knows it, Tommy finds himself standing before two large ornate doors.

The guard opens the door and gestured for Tommy to enter. Glancing hesitantly towards the man, Tommy steps through into a large room with a long table in the centre.

Okay, this is definitely a dining room. Bit overkill though. 

Following the man towards the table, he glanced at the four sets of plates laid out at one of the ends of the table. 

Well, one must be for him, but who are the other three?

The guard leads him to the edge of the table before pulling out a chair for Tommy. Tommy stares at the chair for a second, not sure if it’s a trap or not.

Unsure, Tommy slowly lowers himself into the seat as the guard exits the room. The door closes with a loud thud, and Tommy is finally alone.

He’s not sure if he should let out a sigh of relief or be even more scared. Where the hell is he? What is happening? Should he try to wake himself up? Should he try to get back to Logstedshire?

The problem is, Tommy isn’t even sure how to get back to Logstedshire if he wanted to. He noticed the frost layering the windows on the walk here, so he must be in the arctic somewhere. But Logstedshire was in a warm plain, he could be miles away from exile at this point.

The thought should make Tommy elated. All he’s wanted since being exiled was to leave, but he wanted to go home. Now he just feels empty staring at the elaborate decor that surrounds him. 

God, Dream is gonna be so pissed when he finds out.

Tommy’s blood runs cold. Oh shit. Dream. Dream was gonna kill him. 

He’s probably out right now searching for him, and when he finds him, Tommy’s as good as dead. He never got to say goodbye. He never got to say goodbye to L’manburg. He never got to say goodbye to Tubbo. He never got to say goodbye to his-

The entrance to the room opens and two guards emerge. Entering in sync they break off and stand at their posts next to the door. The guards stand at attention and it makes Tommy sit up straighter as well.

He’s not sure whether to stand as well or to sit. Should he keep looking at the door or should he pretend to not have noticed and stare at the table? 

Before he can get further caught up in his indecision, he sees a figure walking through the door. Tommy remains frozen.

A silver crown lay on a head of blonde hair. The man walks forward nodding his head in acknowledgement of the guards. While the dark green royal robes the man wears may be unfamiliar, Tommy would recognize the inky black wings that follow anywhere.

Philza

Dad

Tommy lets out a small gasp before he can stop himself. Philza is here. His dad is here. Tommy should feel relieved, but he can’t help being slightly more afraid.

The last time he saw his father was right before the man plunged a sword deep into his brother’s chest. The two had locked eyes at that moment and Tommy could never forget the look of guilt that shone in them.

Tommy kept himself scarce following the death of Wilbur. Only coming around to “help” Tubbo. He couldn’t bear to be around Phil at that time. He felt bad whenever he shrugged the man off, but he needed time. He just needed time.

Then he got exiled, and he hadn’t seen the man since.

Now, his dad walked towards him with a warm smile on his face. He hadn’t done that since before the SMP. Tommy missed it.

Approaching Tommy, the boy tensed up afraid of what was to come, but Phil merely placed a hand upon his shoulder and a tender kiss in the boy’s hair before seating himself at the end of the table. 

It burned. His skin burned at his father’s touch. Tommy felt so tightly wound he might snap.

Might snap and rush into his father’s arms and cry about the hell he has been put through. Might snap and rush out of the room in search of the nearest place to empty his stomach.

Before he can do either, Phil places his hands on the table and turns to Tommy with that warm grin again. 

“Tommy,” Oh, how he missed this, “How are you?”

How is he supposed to respond to that? Does he tell this clone of his father everything he’s been through? Does he say that he doesn’t know where he is? Does he lie?

Sensing his hesitation, Phil sighs. “I understand that you may not be the most pleased with the whole situation, and I’m sorry about that, but I promise you it won’t last forever.”

Tommy gives a confused look at that. The situation? Is he talking about why Tommy escaped exile? Does he know something about what’s going on?

Before Tommy can ask, the doors to the dining room open once more. 

“Oh!” Phil perks up and smiles towards the figure walking towards them. “Good Morning, Techno!”

Despite his father’s warm welcome, Tommy can’t help but feel his blood run cold. If he thought seeing his father again for the first time since the war was chilling, the sight of Techno was enough to make Tommy want to bolt.

Oblivious to his current panic, Techno approached the table with a small smile in return. 

Tommy tensed as Techno passed behind him. Prepared for his brother to slit his throat, finish what he started, make him die like the hero he was meant to be. 

Techno only walked past with a small ruffle of Tommy’s hair and a small murmur of “Good morning”.

Tommy wanted to throw up. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. 

He was here, in this castle, with his father and brother. Nobody was trying to kill him. It didn’t make sense. It was like he had stepped through into an alternate universe where apparently his family is functional and royalty(?) apparently. 

Techno sat down across from Tommy and gave him a long stare. Raising his eyebrow, he silently mouthed an “Are you okay?” in Tommy’s direction. 

Techno, as quiet as he is, is very perceptive. He always knows more than he lets on, especially when it comes to his family. He remembers the way Techno would stare at Wilbur when the other wasn’t looking, searching for any answer to why their brother had become so unrecognizable.

Many thought Techno was heartless, that he only cared for himself, but the opposite was true. Techno would do anything for his family, even if it meant putting himself at risk in their place.

Maybe that’s why it hurt so much. Him standing across from Tommy, yelling at him, telling him to die like a hero. Maybe that’s why seeing him again hurts.

Tommy nodded stiffly before Techno shrugged and turned to their father. 

He’s safe for now.

“So, what’s for breakfast?”

Tommy blocks out their voices as they begin to talk. He stares blankly at the table as he tries to fully process what has happened. 

He went to sleep in his tent like normal and has now awoken in an alternate universe. He doesn’t even know how to get home even if he wanted to. What was he supposed to do? 

He couldn’t tell Phil or Techno. They probably would think he’s crazy, and how does he even explain the situation anyways? “Oh yeah, I just went to bed after being exiled from my country in another timeline and woke up here. Sorry for the trouble, guys!” 

What are they going to do when they find out he’s not their Tommy? 

Oh god. What happened to their Tommy? Is he in Tommy’s world?

Tommy feels himself grow even more sick at the thought. Phil and Techno would kill him if they found out he’d sent their Tommy to that hell. That hell with exile, and war, and Dream.

Would they even know who Dream is? 

No. He’s just going to have to figure this out by himself. He’ll just keep his head down and fix it himself. It’s what he’s always done anyways. There’s no reason this situation should be any different.

He’ll do it himself.

Looking up he notices his father and Techno still discussing their days. The two seem so carefree. For a moment, Tommy could picture himself, in another world, sitting here as well. Interjecting with his own quips as Techno and Phil roll their eyes in fond annoyance. Just like old times.

He hopes that the alternate version of him was happy. He hopes he knew how good he had it. Tommy feels sorry that he took this away from him.

Tommy feels like he could cry. Maybe this is just a cruel nightmare and he’ll wake up back in exile. Back in his world where his family is shattered, where he’s completely alone.

As if sensing something amiss, his father and Techno stop talking and turn their attention to Tommy. 

They both must see the way he’s staring at them with a hopeless look. They must see the way he looks one wrong move from shattering completely. 

His father looks concerned as he softly asks, “Are you okay, mate?” 

With both their attention on him, Tommy feels even closer to tears. He just wants to wake up, and stop being haunted by this perfect world that he’ll never experience. 

Not sure how to respond without revealing too much, he just nods quickly. 

He catches the looks on his family’s face grow even more concerned, and he feels himself silently beg for them to just let it go. For them to just move on and forget he was even there. But he should know better than to believe that his family would just drop it.

However, the universe must have heard his pleas. As soon as Techno opens his mouth to push further, the door to the dining room swings open for the final time.

“Oh!” Phil exclaims teasingly, “Look who finally decided to show up!”

Tommy’s head shoots to the door.

He was so caught up in the confusion of being with his father and brother again that he’d forgotten about the presence of the fourth seat that lay empty at the table. 

It can’t be. Of everything Tommy has seen today, he can’t believe this. This is the appropriate time for him to wake up. 

Tommy has to grab the table to ground himself as he feels his hands begin to tremble.

He needs to wake up. He can’t stand this anymore. Why is the universe taunting him like this? Why must it be so cruel?

The tears that had been previously growing in Tommy’s eyes begin to fall and the boy is unable to stop as he lets out a choked sob. 

Against all reason, there he stands, his dead alive older brother.

Wilbur.

Chapter Text

When Prince Tommy opened his eyes to the sound of waves crashing against a shore and the feel of the cold wind against his skin, he knew something was wrong.

He peeks his eye open and spots the ratty tarp of a poorly thrown together tent. 

Well, guess his dad was right about the need to increase security. Shame that he had to go and get kidnapped in his sleep not even a day afterwards.

Oh god, Techno was gonna kill him.

He quickly moves his hands to push himself up on the bed and notes that they aren’t even tied together. Weird. Must be some shitty kidnappers who have taken him. Why wouldn’t they even bother to tie his hands? Also what was with the tent?

Upon sitting up he quickly takes note of the state of his clothes. Gone are the silk pyjamas he wore to bed and instead he finds himself wearing a ratted red and white shirt and khaki shorts.

Why would they change his clothes? This keeps getting stranger and stranger.

He feels a cool chain around his neck and reaches beneath his shirt to pull out the compass(?) that lay beneath.

He certainly did not have this when he went to bed. 

Opening it up, he finds that the compass is enchanted and is pointing towards the ocean by his tent. On the lid of the compass is a poor inscription of “Your Tubbo.”

Tommy’s face twists in confusion. Who the hell is Tubbo?  

Growing up, Tommy never really needed to leave the castle. He played, learned, and did everything else a child did within the castle walls. While Tommy knew most of the guards’ names, he couldn’t recall ever knowing one called “Tubbo.”

So why does he have a compass pointing towards him?

Tommy shook his head. He could worry about that later. For now, he needed to focus on getting out of this weird camp and back to the castle.

Not wanting to alert any of his potential abductors, he slowly creeps to the exit of the tent before peeking out.

He’s only met with what can only be described as a mess of a campsite. Or more appropriately the closest thing to hell Tommy had ever seen.

There were multiple pillars of logs with lit netherrack on top, a wall of stripped logs that surrounded an RV(?), and a nether portal. 

Tommy had seen a nether portal before when Phil showed him the castle’s portal before warning him to never go through without him, Techno, or Wilbur with him. However, Tommy had never heard of one outside the castle. Transportation to the other realms was heavily restricted, or in the case of the End, strictly forbidden.

Confused, Tommy stepped forward to get a closer look and instead bumped against a chest just outside the tent. 

Now that was interesting. Maybe he could find some things to help him get back home. He could look at the rest of the camp later, first, he needed things.

Crouching down, Tommy undid the latch and opened the chest. He was nearly blinded with the shine of iron armour. 

Damn, these kidnappers were really fucking stupid.

Snickering, Tommy quickly pulled out the chest plate. He caught his reflection in the shine of the armour and nearly dropped the chest plate in shock. 

His face looked awful. He had a black eye and a busted lip, but other than that he looked half dead. His eyes held bags that made it seem like he hadn’t slept in weeks and the sunken state of his cheeks indicated that he probably hadn’t eaten in weeks either.

How long had he been gone, and how could he not remember any of it?

He needed to get back home and fast before his dad and brothers tore the kingdom apart in their search for him.

Tommy quickly donned the chest plate and the rest of the armour before making his way to the wall of logs.

Despite the worn-down look of the walls at first glance, the walls couldn’t have been built more than a week ago.

There’s a sign placed at the entrance which reads Logstedshire . 

Hm. That’s a stupid fucking name. Though it is fitting.

Tommy is about to go investigate the rest of the camp when he hears the portal whoosh behind him.

He quickly turns around and spots a man wearing a full set of netherite armour. Okay, maybe his attackers aren’t as stupid as he thought.

Tommy quickly steps back as he realizes that, shit , he forgot to grab a weapon. Though he’s not sure where he would have found one anyways.

The man turns to look at him and Tommy has to suppress the gasp at the sight of his face. Or well, the lack of one. The man wears a pristine mask with a mocking smile etched into it.

“Tommy!” How did he know his name? “It’s so great to see you again!”

Again? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Who the hell was this guy?

“I see you got some armour. Good job!” The man pulled an axe from his pack and pointed to the ground. “You know the drill. Put your armour in the hole, Tommy.”

“What?! No! Fuck you!” Tommy spluttered. “What do you even want from me?”

The man stepped forward threateningly. “I want you to put your armour in the hole, Tommy.” He seethed.

“No! You think you can just kidnap me and tell me what to do? When my family finds out what you did, you’re as good as dead!” Tommy threatened. 

He knew that his family was probably scouring the kingdom looking for him, and when they found him, well this guy would wish he had never messed with the Antarctic Empire.

Usually, such a threat would at least make most think twice before laying a hand on the Prince, but the man only stepped closer.

Tommy stepped back in fear as the man approached laughing maniacally. “You never do listen, do you?” 

Tommy’s back hit the wall of Logstedshire and he stared up with wide eyes as the man only got closer.

“I tried to help you, Tommy, but you just never listen. I thought after yesterday you’d learn your lesson, but I guess we need to have a little review.”

Before Tommy could react the man raised the axe above his head and swung down. Thankfully the armour took most of the blow, but the axe hit Tommy’s head with a resounding thud.

His body crumpled to the ground as the man stepped over him. Tommy felt as he unclasped the armour he was wearing and threw it off to the side.

Tommy was helpless to watch as the man pulled out a stick of TNT and threw it onto the pile of armour.

The blast was close enough that Tommy could feel the heat against his face.

Sighing, the man turned back to Tommy. “This wouldn’t happen if you just listened. Never forget your place, Tommy.” 

Leaning down the man ruffled his hair in a sickeningly affectionate manner and softly said “See you tomorrow.”

Tommy watched as the man walked off towards the portal, disappearing with a quiet whoosh.

What the fuck just happened .

Groaning, Tommy pushed himself up onto his elbows. His head spun and he quickly wanted to lay back down. Placing a hand to his head, he attempted to sit fully up as his vision spun and his stomach turned.

He needed to get out of here.

Pushing through the pain, Tommy stood up on unsteady feet. He couldn’t stay here, but where could he go? He had no idea where he was or what direction home was in.

To one side there was an ocean and the other was more land. Seeing as he didn’t have a boat, Tommy guessed he’d have to just walk until he, hopefully, found some sign of civilization.

Sighing, Tommy slowly began his trek.

-

After around half an hour of walking later, Tommy began to notice the air around him begin to chill.

After an hour of walking, the snow crunched beneath Tommy’s feet. 

The boy felt himself grow a little more hopeful at this. The snow meant one thing.

The Arctic.

Home.

God, he couldn’t wait to get back. His family would scold him to hell and back, but it wouldn’t last. Tommy knew his dad would wrap him up in a tight hug, wings protecting him from any harm, whispering promises to keep him safe.

Techno would probably stand guard by his bed while he rested, not sleeping a wink until he was sure that his brother was safe inside the castle walls. He’d stand there all serious-like as Tommy made his best attempts to crack him, eventually making him roll his eyes and chuckled despite himself.

And Wilbur. Wilbur would stay by his bedside and play him a lullaby as he drifted off. His brother would set his guitar down and join Tommy to rest and encourage Techno to join, the three of them sleeping piled together like when they were kids.

Their dad would find them in the morning, and he’d laugh at his boys. Together. Safe. 

God, Tommy couldn’t wait to be home.

After about an hour and a half of walking Tommy’s pace slowed to a little more than a crawl. His skin burned with the chill Arctic wind piercing it, his teeth had stopped chattering a little while ago, and his head pounded.

What he wouldn’t give for his cloak right now.

When he was really young, he had wandered outside intending to build a snowman. He hadn’t been wearing a coat. Phil had rushed out an hour later and found him lying in the snow shivering. He thinks he had been trying to make a snow angel.

His dad had immediately wrapped him up in his wings and chided him for leaving without telling anyone. He was taken inside and immediately wrapped in Phil’s cloak and given a steaming cup of hot chocolate. 

After being warned of the dangers of frostbite and the cold, he had been sent on his way. The next day Phil had delivered him a cloak of his own designed after the ones his dad and brothers wore.

He wished his Dad were here to warn him now.

His body ached and he could feel his movements slow as time passed. His feet like heavyweights as he trudged through the snow. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go. 

He just wanted to go home. 

After an undetermined amount of time, Tommy saw a blur of warm light in the distance. Perking up, the boy picked up his pace as much as he could and hobbled his way forwards.

Upon closer look, the light came from a small cabin. It looked very homey and warm. Just what Tommy needed.

A small part of his brain protested at the thought of entering into an unknown house in the middle of nowhere after being kidnapped, but Tommy quickly brushed it off.

He was going to freeze to death otherwise, and hey, he’s the prince, it’d be treason (or something) to leave him to die in the cold.

Tommy reached the door to the cabin and slowly pushed it open. The warmth to the cabin surrounded Tommy like a warm hug and the boy sighed in relief.

The room he entered appeared to be a storage area as it was filled floor to roof in chests. Whoever lived here must be really wealthy to stock up this much stuff.

Tommy brushed it off though. He needed somewhere to sit down. And rest. The sooner he could lay down, the better.

He slowly approached the ladder at the side of the room and placed his hands on the bars. His vision still spun a little as he pulled himself up the first rung, but Tommy kept climbing til he reached the main floor of the cabin.

He first noticed the couch against the far wall and let out a quiet “Yes!”. Pushing himself up to the floor Tommy moved his way to the couch and stopped.

His excitement upon seeing a place to rest was immediately soured.

There was a portrait.

More specifically a portrait of his brother. 

What the fuck.

Tommy quickly approached the couch in disbelief. There was no way that this random person had a portrait of his brother hanging in their living room. 

That’s fucking weird.

Forgetting his need to rest, Tommy began searching around the cabin for any information. He needed to know who lived here, and how they knew his brother (or why they needed his photo.) 

Pushing open one of the chests in the room, Tommy sighed in disappointment. Nothing. The chest was filled with useless junk.

Maybe not entirely useless. Tommy’s stomach grumbled as he eyed the golden apples laying in a corner of the chest. 

Hey, if they’re gonna have a weird portrait of his brother, it’s only fair that he gets some reimbursement.

Tommy quickly snatched a handful of the apples and immediately took a large bite from one. Feeling the pressure in his head lighten and the emptiness in his stomach lessen, made him relax. 

Well, that is until the door to the cabin swung open.

Tommy quickly spun around to defend himself only to stop at the sight of his brother in the doorway.

Oh. 

“Techno!” Tommy smiled rushing forward to hug his brother. He’d been through hell today, but it was okay. His brother was here, and they’d be able to go home, and he’d get to see his dad and Wil again.

Before Tommy could reach Techno, however, the man placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length.

Tommy looked up at Techno in confusion but was met with a glare in return.

Why is he looking at him like that?

“What are you doing here, Tommy?”

Tommy chuckled, “Um, I think I should be asking you that.”

Techno only appeared to grow more agitated at the response. “What do you mean? This is my house!”

Tommy furrowed his brows, confused. “No, it’s not.”

Tommy was the one who got the blow to his head, so why was his brother acting like this?

Techno growled in frustration and pushed Tommy back. 

“What are you even talking about, Tommy? I come home to find you digging through my stuff like a freaking raccoon! What are you even doing here?”

A flash of hurt crossed Tommy’s face before he felt himself grow more frustrated. Techno was looking at him like he’d gone insane. What was going on? Why couldn’t they just go home?

“I don’t know! I woke up this morning after being kidnapped and was attacked by this man in a smiley-face mask. He beat me with an axe, Techno! Now, my head hurts and all I want is to go home. I tried making my way back but I was lost and didn’t know where I was. I found the Arctic but I got cold and I found this cabin to rest in so I came here.”

Tommy felt himself grow more and more emotional with each passing word. “But you showed up, and now you’re acting like I’m crazy, and I just want to go home and see Dad and Wil, but I don’t know how to get there, so please, Techno, can we go home?”

He couldn’t stop the stream of tears flowing down his face now. He just wanted to go home. Why couldn’t his brother see that? Why was he being so mean?

Techno stared shocked as Tommy stood there, crying. Unsure of what to do, the man slowly approached the boy and pulled him into a hug.

Tommy slumped against Techno in relief. Thank god. At least he still had this.

Clutching his brother’s red(?) cape in his fingers, Tommy quietly asked, “Please, Techno, can we go home?”

Techno was unsure how to respond. He really hated lying, but seeing the way his brother had reacted to his prior questioning, he felt that it was for the best to reassure the boy.

He could figure it out later, for now, he needed to help Tommy.

Wrapping his arms tighter around the boy, he whispered, “Yes, Tommy.” Techno rubbed his back comfortingly, “But you should rest now.” 

The boy nodded against Techno’s shoulder, and Techno felt the boy slowly drift off in his arms. 

Sighing, Techno lifted Tommy and slowly carried him to the couch in the room. 

Laying him down, Techno reached into one of the chests nearby and pulled out an extra blanket before laying it on top of the boy.

Tommy immediately pulled the blanket closer and curled up tighter in his sleep.

What the hell happened?

Techno ran his fingers through Tommy’s blond locks and took note of the bruises that cover the boy's face. His baby brother looked like he went through hell. He looked half-dead.

He knew that exile would be rough on his brother, but Techno thought it would just be another deserved punishment. 

He said that Dream hit him with an axe .

God, Techno wanted to find that bastard and rip him limb from limb. The voices heavily agreed with the notion.

Earlier that morning Techno had awoken to the voices screaming at him. It was mostly indistinguishable, but he got the general gist.

Something was wrong.

Thinking that it was general unrest with the voices, Techno grabbed his axe and planned to venture out, kill some mobs, and return home with the voices sated.

However, the voices didn’t calm down. Only growing louder as each hour passed, so much so that Techno returned home with a frustrated sigh and a pounding headache.

He assumed that the failed attempt to silence the voices would be the worst part of his day.

He was wrong.

He arrived home to Tommy rummaging through his stuff, and before he could be filled with rage the voices arose in a loud chorus.

Tommy!

Wrong Tommy!

Send him back!

He had to grip the door to keep from falling over. Why were the voices being so loud?

Then Tommy turned around, and it all made sense. 

The boy looked half-dead. A black eye and a busted lip were the first injuries Techno noticed, but he knew that more hid from the way the boy held himself and favoured his left side.

Something happened in exile.

Techno tried to figure out what the hell brought his brother to his house, and specifically his chests, but Tommy only spouted nonsense back.

It was like he had stepped through from another universe.

Techno only grew more confused, frustrated, and above all concerned the more the boy spoke. 

Techno didn’t think this can be fixed with some healing potions.

Pulling out his communicator, Techno searched for the right contact. Upon finding it, Techno typed a hurried message, before throwing the communicator to the side and resumed tending to Tommy.

Technoblade: Phil, I need your help.

-

Tommy awoke to the sound of voices.

“Well, didn’t you say he hit his head? What if he’s just concussed?”

“No. I’m telling you, Phil, you didn’t see him. Chat thinks something is up, and so do I.”

“Whatever you say, mate. Let's just focus on making sure he recovers, okay?”

He heard a deep sigh and some rustling before a quiet, “Yeah.”

Tommy slowly opened his eyes and saw Techno and Phil out the corner of his eye. Tommy felt a warmth grow in his chest.

His dad was here. Things would be okay.

Tommy leaned over and opened his mouth to let out a shaky “Dad,” before bursting into a coughing fit.

At the sound, the two immediately perked up and rushed over to his aid. Phil helped him sit up and rubbed his back encouragingly.

Once the coughing died down, Tommy slumped forward against his father. 

Phil stiffened before letting out a weak chuckle as he began to pet Tommy’s head. 

“Hey, mate,” Phil began, “How are you feeling?”

Tommy groaned in response as he complained, “I feel like shit.”

Techno and Phil shared a look of concern over Tommy’s head.

“Tech, grab me a healing pot and some soup, please.”

He heard the man let out a quiet grunt of acknowledgement before climbing down the ladder to the storage area. Tommy could hear the clinking of glass bottles below as the man got to work brewing.

Phil, meanwhile, pushed Tommy up to sit, the boy letting out a whine in protest. Phil ignored him and began meticulously checking Tommy’s head for any visible bumps or wounds.

“There doesn’t seem to be any visible bumps,” he hummed.

Tommy let out a rough laugh and quipped “No permanent brain damage. Pog.”

He felt a rush of pride fill him as Phil let out a quiet chuckle. “Not exactly.”

Tommy was about to ask what he meant when he heard the ladder to the main floor creak under Techno’s weight. The man pulled himself up with one arm while the potion and the bowl of soup were balanced precariously in the other.

Phil rushed up to help Techno and relieve him of the soup. Once they reached the couch Techno handed Phil the healing pot before returning to his chair on the other side of the room. 

Techno pulled his reading glasses on and pulled a book from the shelf. Tommy guessed that it was probably one of his mythology books. Techno used to read them to Tommy before he went to bed, threatening to stop when Tommy mispronounced the names on purpose.

Phil handed the bowl to Tommy and helped guide the soup to the boy’s lips. 

“You can eat this first, and get some food in your stomach. Then, hopefully, you can have the health pot without any nausea.”

Tommy didn’t realize how hungry he had been until Phil had handed him the soup. He drank down the broth in large gulps and had to slow down when Phil pulled the bowl back with a warning not to eat too fast lest he make himself sicker.

The boy listened and soon enough the bowl lay empty on the floor next to the couch.

Phil slowly tugged the cork to the health pot open before handing it to Tommy.

“Drink this, and it’ll hopefully help with most of the bruises and wounds.”

Tommy grabbed the potion and raised it to lips, grimacing at the potent smell of magic that drifted from the bottle.

He’d always hated potions. They were more effective than natural medicines but tasted ten times worse.

When Tommy had twisted his ankle as a kid trying to “surf down the grand staircase,” Phil had to coax Tommy into drinking the health pot with the promise that the unpleasantness of the taste would be worth the remedy to the pain in his ankle.

Tommy listened, albeit reluctantly, and Phil had rewarded him with a bowl of ice cream for his bravery. 

Now Phil just stared at him confused as he hesitated. 

“Is something wrong?” Phil asked, laying his hand on Tommy’s knee.

Tommy, not wanting to focus on the weirdness of the situation any longer, shook his head and quickly chugged the potion in one go.

Bad idea.

Tommy’s face immediately scrunched up in discomfort as he felt the potion make its way into his system. The overload of magic made him feel light-headed, and he had to lean back against the couch before the feeling passed.

Phil worriedly grabbed the boy’s arm. “Oh my God, Tommy. Are you okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak without entering another coughing fit, Tommy elected to nod.

Phil slumped in relief before he quickly scolded Tommy, “You shouldn’t chug potions like that, mate. I thought you knew that.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed in response. Why would he know that? He hated potions, and therefore only had used them when strictly necessary. Even when he did use them, they were heavily diluted and in very small doses.

What was his dad talking about?

Oblivious to his son’s confusion Phil sighed, “Well, now that your bruises are being taken care of, we need to check to see if you have a concussion.”

Tommy opened his mouth to do his usual bout of complaining, but at Phil’s sharp glare Tommy sunk back into the couch without a word. 

Phil stood up and began checking over Tommy as he asked, “How are you feeling? Any nausea, dizziness?”

“Nope,” Tommy shook his head, “I have a small headache, but I haven’t been nauseous or dizzy since yesterday.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Phil leaned down and looked into Tommy’s eyes, “Can you tell me your name?”

Tommy giggles and points his finger towards his Dad, “Can’t remember my name, old man? Maybe you should be the one getting your head checked out?”

Phil doesn’t laugh.

Tommy sighs, “Tommy.”

Phil holds two fingers out. “Grip my fingers as hard as you can,” Tommy complies, and Phil drops their hands before continuing his questioning.

“Do you know where you are, Tommy?”

“Not really. I guess it’s Techno’s vacation home.” Tommy glanced over Phil’s shoulder and saw Techno’s ear twitch at the sound of his name. Tommy leaned closer to Phil and stage whispered, “Dad, I don’t think it’s fair that Techno gets a vacation home all to himself. Maybe he should share, it’s only fair.”

Techno let out an annoyed grunt as Phil slowly pushed Tommy’s head back. Tommy frowned. Why was everyone being so serious?

“Tommy, Techno is an adult. Also, this isn’t a vacation home, Techno lives here, so he doesn’t need to share.”

Tommy’s frown grew even deeper at that. What?

“What?” Tommy asked, “What do you mean Techno lives here? Since when?”

Phil stared at him incredulously, “Since he fled from L’manburg.” Phil said the words as if the answer should have been obvious, but the response only raised more questions for Tommy.

L’manburg? What the fuck was L’manburg, and why did his brother need to flee? 

How long had he been gone from the castle?

At seeing Tommy’s confused stare, Phil sighed before gently asking, “Tommy, can you tell me everything you remember from when you hit your head?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded. “Well I went to sleep in the castle, but when I woke up, I’d been kidnapped.” He paused. “Sorry for not listening to you about that, Dad.” 

Phil stared blankly in response.

Tommy let out an awkward cough, “Anyways, I woke up and I was in this weird camp and I didn’t know how to get home, so I tried to investigate. Then, this man in a smiley-face mask showed up, and he told me to drop the armour I found in a hole. I said no, and he hit me over the head with his axe. He took my armour and blew it up, then he left! How fucking weird is that?!”

Tommy turned his attention to his dad and brother but only found them staring back with their mouths agape. “Um, but it was fine because I got up. I didn’t really know where to go or how to get back to the castle, but I eventually found this cabin to rest in and apparently Techno lives here, so that was strange.”

At their continued staring, Tommy grew more and more concerned and began to backpedal. 

“I’m not really sure what’s going on or why you guys are staring at me like I’ve gone crazy, but all I really want is to go home, and nobody has told me when we can do that.” 

His eyes moved frantically between his dad and brother looking for any sign that they understood. That maybe they had been pranking him this whole time. But he was only met with their wary looks.

Techno stood from his chair and slowly placed his glasses and book on the side table before making his way to them. Crouching down in front of Tommy, he slowly asked, “Tommy, can you tell me my name?”

Tommy looked uncertain before he quietly responded, “You’re Technoblade.”

“No.” Techno shook his head, “What’s my full name?”

Tommy slowly understood before reciting, “You’re Technoblade Watson, crown Prince of the Antarctic Empire. You’re my brother.”

He heard Phil gasp to his left, but he kept his eyes on his Techno as his brother nodded. 

“That’s good,” he encouraged, “Now, can you tell me Dad’s full name, as well?”

Tommy and Techno shared a glance at their father before Tommy complied, “Philza Watson, King of the Antarctic Empire, and our Dad.”

Techno nodded once more before he laid a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Normally the action would make Tommy feel relaxed, but Tommy only felt more unsettled as his brother uttered the words,

“Tommy, I think you are a very long way from home.”

Chapter Text

Time had seemed to stand still in that moment. 

Wilbur was alive.

His brother stood there in front of him, and all Tommy could do was stare as his brother rolled his eyes in response to his father’s teasing and flash his typical smile.

“Oh my bad, father,” Wilbur quipped, “Sorry some of us would like our beauty sleep. Not all of us can-“

Wilbur was cut off as something collided against his chest. He stumbled back as he caught the sight of a head of blonde hair against his chest.

Tommy had wrapped himself tightly around his brother. His brother who was here. Who was alive. He was talking and smiling, and none of it was shadowed by paranoia or darkened by memories of war and betrayal.

This was his brother, a brother who got to live the life he always should have. 

Wilbur slowly lowered them to the floor, unsure of what to do. He wrapped his arms hesitantly around his brother and slowly rubbed a comforting hand on his back.

Tommy pushed his head further into his brother’s chest. Turning his head slightly to the right, Tommy’s ear pressed against his brother’s chest and he heard it. 

A gentle thump, thump, resounded beneath Tommy’s head and he almost collapsed further into his brother’s arms in joy.

It’s real. He’s real. He’s alive.

He heard a round of commotion around him as Phil and Techno rose from their chairs to come closer to the two. Tommy only nestled closer in an attempt to hide his tears.

He felt Wilbur’s fingers card through his hair, and he vaguely heard Wilbur begin to speak in cooing whispers, “Tommy. Hey, Tommy. It’s alright. What’s wrong?”

Tommy shook his head against Wilbur’s chest and clutched tighter to his robes. “Wilbur,” he sobbed brokenly. 

Wilbur curled tighter around him, and softly whispered, “I’m here. What’s wrong, bud?”

He’d shattered. He’d been going on for too long, held together only by the necessity to. He'd been pushed too far for too long, but it was okay because he could shatter.

Wilbur was here.

His brother was here. He was in his brother’s arms and they would keep him together. Tommy didn’t have to keep fighting. He could rest, Wilbur would keep him safe.

Tell him!

Tommy couldn’t contain his babbling even if he tried. “Please. Please don’t leave again, Wilbur. I missed you. I missed you so much.”

“Tommy, what are you talking about?” Wilbur whispered. 

“You bastard,” Tommy only broke further. Gripping Wilbur’s shirt tighter in one hand he began to beat against Wilbur’s chest with his fist. “How could you? You left me alone! You promised.” 

He dug his pointer finger into his brother’s chest accusingly. He left him, and he had the nerve to be alive in this weird fantasy world.

A world he’d never get to enjoy.

“Tommy, I need you to look at me.” Wilbur attempted to pull Tommy away from his chest in order to see the boy, but Tommy only gripped him tighter. 

“No!” Tommy was shaking now. Shaking his head and mumbling constant pleas.

Wilbur’s hands still rested halfway in the air. He didn’t know what to do.  

“What do you need Tommy?” Wilbur leaned his head down straining to hear what the boy was mumbling.

“Please.” Tommy whispered as if afraid Wilbur would say no, “Just please don’t leave again. Please stay.”

Wilbur looked up at Phil and Techno who stood close, watching with uncertain eyes. Phil looked like he wanted to help, but didn’t want to push the boy. Techno just stared blankly as their youngest brother broke in his twin’s arms.

The boy was curled right into his embrace, fingers turning white from how hard he grabbed at Wilbur’s cloak. 

He hadn’t seen his brother this upset... well, ever. Tommy was always a little bit of a crybaby growing up, but it was always soothed relatively easily with a hug from his brother or dad. Never like this.

Tommy seemed grief-ridden. The loud sobs shaking his body as he babbled nonsensical pleas towards Wilbur. 

Wilbur felt helpless. What the hell happened? Who hurt his baby brother?

Wilbur shook his head and clutched the boy closer. Pushing his face into his blonde hair as the boy continued to sob. “It’s okay,” Wilbur shushed, “I’m here. I’ll stay with you. I’m not going to leave. Wilbur’s here, bud.”

Phil crouched down and rubbed the boy’s back comfortingly. His wings spread around his boys, shielding the two from the eyes of the guards at the door.

The two helped soothe the youngest while Techno stared down at them. He heard the whispers of the voices in the back of his mind rise in volume as he looked upon his baby brother.

They all agreed on the same thing.

Something was wrong with Tommy.

-

After he’d calmed down enough, Tommy had sat up from Wilbur’s embrace and quietly asked if he could be excused.

Phil and Wilbur seemed hesitant to let him go without eating breakfast but he assured them he’d eat an extra-large lunch.

They reluctantly agreed before Phil ordered one of the guards to help escort Tommy back to his room.

Tommy couldn’t help the frustrated, “No!” he let out. He immediately felt guilty at the way his brother and father jumped in shock. He could see the look of shock morph into disappointment.

Sighing, Tommy apologized, “I’m sorry, but I just want to be alone.”

Phil went to lecture Tommy, but he was once again interrupted by Techno who waved a hand dismissively in Tommy’s direction. “He’ll be fine, Dad. Let him go.”

Phil went to protest, but Techno shot him a look. Tommy nodded and immediately went to the large double doors he originally entered the dining room through.

The guards gave him a small bow as he passed but he elected to ignore them.

Exiting the dining room was the closest thing to a breath of fresh air Tommy had gotten since waking up in this weird world.

He leaned his back against the doors and let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his messy hair.

This was not going to be easy.

Taking a step away from the doors, he let his feet guide him down the long hallway instead of up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t know where he was going, but anywhere was better than that room with eyes that look at him with so much love and affection it’s suffocating. That room with conversations so light, he feels like he could pass out. That room with his dead brother and his estranged father and brother. 

What a lovely family reunion.

Light poured in from the grand windows along the corridor casting Tommy in a golden aura. It was like a sick spotlight pointing out to all who walked past look who doesn’t belong!

He wonders how obvious it truly is. He’s not royal. He’s not their perfect Tommy, or at least as perfect as any version of himself could be.

He’s Tommy, child-soldier, turned shitty Vice President, turned exiled politician, turned traumatized hero, turned shitty Vice President (again), turned exiled burden. 

What a fucking joke.

His feet reached the end of the carpet and he looked up to see another grand wooden door before him. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he checked to make sure nobody was looking. He waited for a beat, before nodding to himself and pushing the door open.

The door closed with a loud thud and he turned to find himself in another hallway, less well-lit.

The hallway was lined with candles to light the way leaving most of it concealed in shadows.

A part of Tommy wanted to turn around and return to his room. 

The shadows on the walls unsettled him. They reminded him too much of Pogtopia who’s shadows were impossible to escape no matter how many torches he crafted. 

He’d told Wilbur about his fear their first week in the cave and the man had only offered that “beggars can’t be choosers” before disappearing down one of the many tunnels the cave offered.

Sometimes he’d sleep next to the farm Techno made. It was the only place in Pogtopia which was always well-lit out of necessity for the crops. It worked out fine until Techno found him there one morning and snapped at him for “crushing the potatoes.”

Techno and his fucking potatoes.

Tommy snorted despite himself at the thought. He wondered if this Techno had the same weird obsession, or if in this universe he was obsessed with carrots instead.

How different were these versions of his family? 

Different enough that they are able to love someone like him.

Tommy pushed the thought to the back of his mind and instead reached for one of the torches that hung on the wall. 

Just like Pogtopia.

Tommy raised the torch and lit up the rest of the hallway. It wasn’t much different from the original one. It was still unnecessarily extravagant.

The walls were the same icy blue as the rest of the castle with gold trim surrounding them. There wasn’t much furniture besides a couple of vases placed sporadically throughout.  

However, the main decor of the room was the collection of portraits lining the wall. 

Tommy turned his head to the right and looked at the first portrait. It was of his Dad. He was sitting on a throne with the same silver crown he had been wearing earlier resting on his head. He looks…

Awkward.

Tommy can’t suppress his giggle at the painting. His Dad looked so out of place like someone had shoved him into the throne and ordered him to sit still. He holds an awkward smile which makes his eyes squint the tiniest amount, but his shoulders look rigid and his wings look tense. 

He must’ve really hated having to sit still that long .

His dad was built to move, to fly, to explore. Asking the man with wings to sit still for hours at a time probably wasn’t the wisest decision, but the painting still looks decent. Definitely that of a king, albeit an untrained one.

Moving on, Tommy approached the next in line, and almost did a double-take. The portrait was mostly identical to the previous one except his father holds two small boys in his lap.

Techno and Wilbur .

The smile his father presented was no longer awkward but full of joy and warmth. He looked happy . Wilbur shared a similar look, smiling so wide you can see his tiny tusks poking out of his mouth. Techno looked, well, he looked like Techno. He wasn’t smiling instead looking at Wilbur with a confused, bored stare. 

That must have been interesting to paint.

Tommy approached the next portrait and felt his stomach drop. His father still sat on his throne, Wilbur and Techno standing to his sides, but in his arms was a small red bundle with a tiny tuft of blonde hair sticking out. Techno and Wilbur both had matching smiles as they looked towards the painter. 

His dad, however, wasn’t looking towards the painter at all. Instead, he stared down at the little bundle in his arms with the warmest eyes Tommy had ever seen. His dad’s smile was so soft, so full of love and joy that it hurt Tommy to look at. 

Tearing his eyes away from the portrait, Tommy hesitantly took slow steps towards the final portrait. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to look. He was fairly certain he knew what it was, but he couldn’t bear to see it. 

He stared as his feet stood before the portrait. Tommy took a deep breath and let it out before slowly raising his head. At first, all he could see was a portrait staring back. Wilbur and Techno had grown up a lot since the previous painting, both towering over their dad who sat on his throne. His dad still smiled at the camera, but instead of a typical smile, it looked like the man had just finished one of his long fits of laughter. It looked normal.

Then Tommy’s eyes met blue. Bright blue. A blue that hadn’t been dimmed from war, and tragedy, and death, and loss. Blue eyes that stared back like the whole world was at their fingertips. His counterpart had the bluest eyes Tommy had ever seen. He stood to the right of his Dad in front of Wilbur with a proud smile flashed across his face. 

Prince Tommy of the Antarctic Empire.

The portrait cut through Tommy with a knife. They looked happy. They looked perfect. They looked like a family. 

And he took that away from them. 

Tommy swung the torch down and let the room be bathed in darkness. He was done looking at the portraits. 

Coward .

Tommy placed the extinguished torch back into one of the holders before slowly making his way down the hallway feeling his way along the rest of the wall.

He reached the end of the corridor where another door sat. He didn’t bother checking behind him this time and instead pushed the door open to find a library.

Tommy felt his shoulders lift and a small smile grow on his face.

Maybe coming down here wasn’t such a bad idea.

He quickly entered the room and made sure to close the door behind him. The room itself was small, but the bookshelves themselves stretched to the ceilings. A small rolling ladder sat at the end of the nearest shelf, and next to it was a small table and chairs.

Tommy wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for, but he knew if he was going to find any information, this would be the best place to start.

Tommy began to scan the shelves near the floor. 

Ancient Mythology

Lessons in Piglin Culture

Potion Brewing

History of the Antarctic Empire

Wait…

Tommy stopped and looked at the book. Running his fingers along the spine, Tommy slowly slipped it off the shelf. It looked well taken care of. 

Tommy stalked over to the table and sat down. Sitting the book on the table, Tommy stared down at the cover. Sighing, he slowly flipped open the book and began to read.

Over a couple of centuries ago, there existed a kingdom ruled by the Ender King. The king ruled his kingdom with an iron fist. He was greedy and controlling, and the people suffered greatly. 

The Ender King sought to gain control over everything. He sent men on expeditions to every land across the world ordering them to return with as much as possible. Lands were scavenged, monuments were stolen, and biomes were destroyed.

Yet, the King still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to conquer other realms. 

At first, he sent his men into the nether with orders to not return until they had conquered a fortress.

Of the 300 men to enter the Nether, only 7 returned. They spoke of the horrors they endured. Severe burns and a sickness that couldn’t be cured by any known medicine. Wither poisoning was what they called it. 

They were the lucky ones.

However, there was one more realm for the King to conquer.

The End.

The King ordered 10 of his best men to explore the realm and return with riches. Using the loot from the Nether expedition and after hunting down any endermen in the kingdom, the men created 12 pristine Eyes of Ender. 

The men entered the portal and the Kingdom waited with bated breath for their return. A month passed, then another. Eventually, a year had passed without news from the realm. 

Rumours spread. Many spoke of a monster, the likes of which nobody had ever seen, which guarded the riches of the End and the portal which brought you home. Going through the portal seemed like a death sentence.

The Ender King locked himself away within his castle. Still seeking the riches that lie within the portal, the King made a decision.

An announcement was made that any brave warrior would be allowed passage through the portal. If they were able to defeat the dragon and return, the King would offer them the greatest riches in the land. 

The idea attracted many as hundreds, young and old, arrived at the portal armed to the teeth with the hope of returning home rich.

None ever returned.

Eventually, the portal remained untouched. The people of the kingdom started warning their children of the dangers that lie through the portal. It was assumed that the mysteries of the End would never be solved. 

Until one day, a lone traveller arrived in the Kingdom. People say the man was followed by a flock of crows. They had heard whispers of him:

The Angel of Death

It was said wherever the man went, death quickly followed.

Not even hesitating, the man was said to head straight to the portal. The guard posted at the portal tried to warn the man of the dangers of the portal. He told the traveller of all those who had come before and had never returned.

The traveller smiled and pulled out his sword before plunging into the portal. 

The day passed and the village people assumed that the man had met the same fate as the other.

Until sundown, when a roar so loud it is said to have shaken the ground erupted from the portal. The townspeople raced to get a closer look.

All fell silent and for a moment everything was still.

Then a figure erupted from the portal and with a beat of black wings the figure perched on the portal.

The Angel had returned.

He had slain the dragon and earned his wings for his bravery. 

For the first time in a decade, the Ender King exited his castle and stepped up the portal.

The King praised the Angel for his bravery and repeated his offer for the riches of the land. 

However, before he could finish his sentence, the Angel struck.

The Ender King was slain by the Angel where he stood.

The Angel ripped his sword from the King’s chest and raised his head to meet the eyes of the people.

The people who had suffered for far too long under the King’s reign.

The Angel looked upon the people and uttered two words:

“You’re free.”

The people rejoiced. A feast was held, people danced in the streets, and fireworks were sent to the skies.

In thanks for his benevolence, the Angel was named King.

The man had smiled and told the people to, “Just call him Phil.”

The kingdom was renamed the Antarctic Empire with its new King.

King Philza.

The empire flourished and so too did the people. King Philza ordered for the portal to the End to be locked away and sealed from the public. 

Nobody would ever go to the End realm ever again. 

One day, the King took a trip to the nether in search of potion ingredients. However, when the King returned from his journey he brought with him baby piglin-hybrids seemingly abandoned by their clan.

The King named them Technoblade and Wilbur and announced to the kingdom that the two boys were his sons and princes of the Empire.

Time passed and the boys grew as did the Empire. Its reach spread across the continent.

Then, on one of the King’s many solo expeditions into the Arctic wilderness, the King was approached by one of his crows. He followed the crow until he was led to a small clearing. There he found it. A baby boy lying in the snow. Returning to the castle with the boy cradled in his arms, the King announced his intent to raise the boy as his own, the newest prince to the Antarctic Empire. Prince Tommy.

The kingdom rejoiced at the newest addition to the royal family saying the boy was a gift from the goddess Death herself. 

Since that day, the kingdom has prospered and the royal family has lived happily within the castle walls.

Until now. 

He took that away from them. 

There was a hole in the royal family. A space he couldn’t ever hope to fill. He wasn’t, and could never be, that boy with bright blue eyes.

Tommy felt the familiar sting of tears building behind his eyes and he immediately smacked himself in shame.

He didn’t understand why he was crying so much. He needed to pull himself together

He always was a crybaby. He just never had the luxury of tears when he had to worry about the war, then the election, and eventually he forgot what it was like to cry at all.

Tommy shook himself and forced himself to calm down. He needed to figure a way to return this Tommy back to this world. 

“Doing some light reading?” Tommy heard over his shoulder.

Jumping up, Tommy slammed the book shut and slid it across the table. He turned and met the eyes of Technoblade doing his typical dry laugh.

“You’re awfully jumpy today,” Techno smirked, raising his brow.

“What do you want, Techno?” Tommy sneered.

Techno sighed and walked over to the extra chair at the table. He pulled it out and turned it around before sitting, resting his arms on the back. 

“I was going to try and be patient, but seeing as you’re in one of your moods. I’ll keep it simple. Something is wrong, what is it?”

Tommy froze before slowly responding, “Nothing. I just want to be alone, Techno.”

Techno gave him a disapproving glance. “You can’t lie to me, Tommy.”

Tommy was prepared to let another lie slide off his tongue. Techno would get bored, sigh annoyed, and leave him alone. Then he could go back to researching in peace. 

However, he stopped himself. He could use this to his advantage. Techno needed something from him, and he could get something he needed in return.

Tommy let a sly smile grow on his face.

“I’ll tell you,” Techno ears perked up, “if you take me to the village outside the castle walls.” Techno ears dropped.

Techno’s brow furrowed and he quickly shook his head. “Nah, Nah. Not happening. Try again next time, kid.”

Tommy's smile remained as he exaggeratedly pushed himself up from his seat and slowly made his way to the door.

“Well,” he called over his shoulder, “I guess you won’t know anything, then.”

He shot a cocky grin towards his brother. “Try again next time, Blade!”

He heard his brother’s seat scrape against the ground as he stood up.

“Fine!” 

Bingo.

“I’ll take you to the stupid village.” His brother approached. “But you can’t let Dad know. Not a word. You hear me?”

Tommy stared up at Techno with a bright look in his eyes. He quickly nodded.

Techno gave Tommy a small smile in return and ruffled his hair, “Go get ready. We need to leave quickly before Dad realizes.”

“Oh, Dad won’t even know we’ve left with how stealthy I can be,” Tommy joked.

“Sure,” Techno rolled his eyes, “just go get ready, you little pest.”

Tommy froze.

“You’re like an annoying pest in my room, and you piss me off. So I had to take you outside. Now I’m just making sure you stay outside.”

Tommy felt a hand touch his shoulder and couldn’t suppress his jump. 

“You alright?”

Tommy schooled his expression and gave a quick nod to Techno.

“Let’s just get going.”

-

They reached the castle gates when Techno put a hand out to stop Tommy.

“Here, put this on.” 

He handed Tommy a blue cape. It looked similar to the one Tommy had on currently, except it was missing the tell-tale crest of the Empire stamped on the back.

Tommy stared at it confused. “Why? I already have one on.”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Did you forget who you are? People will recognize you, and if they do, word will get back that the princes were in the village.”

Tommy groaned before he unclasped the cape around his shoulders. Just to spite him, he threw the cape at Techno’s face enjoying his displeased grunt. 

Tommy snorted and wrapped the new cape around him. It was just as soft as the previous one, but he missed his old one still. 

He turned to continue the walk to the village, but Techno’s arm shot out to stop him once more.

“What?!”

Techno reached behind Tommy and pulled the hood to the cape over his eyes.

“Hood up, dummy.”

Techno walked forwards as Tommy groaned in annoyance. 

This was going to be a long trip.

-

By the time they’d reached the village the sun was at its highest. Even still the chill of the arctic wind was enough to make Tommy grateful for the extra layer of his cape.

The village was bustling with people. Kids were playing in the streets, shops were set up at the edges of the path, and people rushed by oblivious as Techno and Tommy strolled through the village. 

For a moment, it all seemed relatively normal.

Until they came upon the village centre.

Where the rest of the village was cheerful and full of life. The centre seemed dull. 

Gone were the kids running through the streets and the townspeople rushing to and fro. Instead, they were patrolling guards.

However, the biggest difference was the giant obsidian building that lay directly in the path. The building showed no signs of its purpose except for the line of guards surrounding the premises.

Tommy tried not to allow himself to be frightened by the guards' presence, but if he leaned a little closer to Techno as they walked past, nobody had to know otherwise.

“What the hell is that ?” Tommy whispered to Techno.

Techno glanced back at the building before quietly explaining, “It’s the Stronghold. It leads to the portal to the End.”

Tommy glances around at the lines of guards surrounding the centre before huddling closer to Techno.

“Why so many guards, though?”

“I mean there usually are guards here protecting it anyways,” Techno shrugs lowering his voice, “but Dad ordered more to be sent after what happened yesterday.”

Yesterday? The day before he arrived. If something happened yesterday that was bad enough for that many guards to be added to patrols, maybe it has something to do with the swap.

“What do you me-” Tommy went to ask for Techno to explain but is cut off by a body colliding into his own. 

Tommy glanced down and saw a head of brown hair and horns against his chest.

It couldn’t be.

The boy pulled back and met Tommy’s eyes preparing to apologize. Tommy held his breath.

The two locked eyes and gasped.

Tubbo recognized him.

Tommy couldn’t help himself from blurting out an excited, “Tubbo!” before the boys’ eyes widened further and he took off in the opposite direction.

Tommy felt himself panic as he took off after his friend. “Wait!”

Tommy barely stayed around long enough to hear Techno’s exasperated, “Tommy!” as he chased after them.

The two sprint off into the crowd of townspeople, racing through the street. For a moment Tommy can imagine the two racing through the field back home laughing as one of them trips, soiling their clothes in the dirt. Trying to see who could reach home faster. 

Maybe Tubbo remembers too.

Tubbo was fast as he raced between people and darted around corners. 

Tommy attempted to keep up with the boy but could feel himself growing tired. Usually, he could run for ages. He had to be able to. Had to be able to flee at the sight of betrayal, or the sound of TNT hissing. 

This body must not be used to the same kind of treatment. A body that never had to worry about surviving.

Thankfully, the next corner Tubbo turned down was a dead end. Tommy quickly followed him into the alley and heard Techno’s footsteps quickly behind him.

Tubbo backed up cautiously, eyes searching for any possible exits. Seeing there was nowhere to go he placed his back against the wall and glared back at Tommy and Techno.

“Hey.” Tommy raised his hands and approached slowly. He slowly pulled the cloak’s hood from his head and gave a tentative smile. “You recognized me, right?”

Tubbo nodded and for a moment Tommy let himself hope. Tubbo got swapped, too. He wasn’t alone.

Then Tubbo whispered, “You’re Prince Tommy.”

And Tommy felt cold wash over him. His smile dropped and so too did his hands. 

Tubbo didn’t recognize him. He recognized the Prince.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” Tubbo quickly asked. “I mean, I’m really sorry about running into you! I genuinely was not paying attention and didn’t even recognize you until after! Promise!”

Tommy quickly raised his hands and responded, “No! No! You’re fine, man.”

Tubbo quickly relaxed and his expression quickly changed from that of fear to confusion. 

“Then how do you know my name?”

Tommy froze once more. 

Shit.

He completely forgot about that one. He was so caught up in the idea that Tubbo recognized him that he ended up blurting out his name without thinking. 

“Yeah, Tommy.” At Tommy’s hesitance, Techno stepped up beside him. “I am also interested as to how you know his name. Care to explain?”

Techno gave Tommy one of those looks which screamed “You are going to be in so much trouble when we get back.” Tommy couldn’t suppress his grimace.

He couldn’t lie, Techno would see right through him, and it’s not like Tubbo would be there to help make it seem more believable.

But if there is one thing Tommy has learned during his time on this Earth it’s if you can’t lie, deflect .

“Give me your communicator.” 

Tubbo and Techno let out twin “What?”s in response.

Tommy rolled his eyes and placed his hand out in Tubbo’s direction. “Give me your communicator,” he repeated.

“I don’t have one.”

Tommy was almost about to ask why not when he remembered how they found Tubbo in his universe.

Tubbo was an orphan.

That would explain the boy’s appearance. Tommy hadn’t glanced at it before but Tubbo looked, not the greatest. His clothes were covered in dirt and his shoes had holes in them. 

They’d need to fix that. 

Soon.

Tommy quickly reached into his pocket for his own communicator. He hadn’t looked at it since he arrived. It looked pretty standard, but it was in much better condition than his back home which was covered in scrapes and had a giant crack in the screen.

Tommy ripped the charms off it (a guitar string, a strand of gold, and a feather attached to the back), ignoring Techno’s protest, and handed it to Tubbo.

“Here.”

Tubbo stared at it shocked for a moment before hesitantly grabbing it.

“Tommy! You can’t just give him your communicator!”

“Why not?” Tommy looked up at Techno, “I’m the Prince. I can just get another one.”

Tommy walked up beside the boy and pressed the sequence of buttons he knew would completely reset the system. 

Wilbur taught it to him back during Pogtopia when his brother had been so paranoid of Manburg reading their comms that he made the two do it every night before bed.

“Besides, it’s his communicator now.” He nodded his head towards Tubbo and smiled. 

Tommy guided Tubbo’s thumb into the slot to read his fingerprint. The screen flashed green indicating a successful reading. 

“All yours now, Tubso.” 

Tubbo stared down at his new communicator in shock before glancing back up at Tommy as if to ask if he was sure.

“Make sure to keep it safe!” Tommy walked back up to Techno. “I already know your info, so I’ll be in contact soon!”

Tommy bumped his elbow into his brother’s side, “Come on Big T, let’s get out of here!”

They began to walk out of the alleyway but stopped when they heard a yell of “Wait!”

“What do you want from me?” Tubbo yelled. He had that look on his face where he tried to be intimidating but ended up looking more confused than anything.

Tommy laughed. “To be friends, obviously.”

-

The rest of the walk home was pretty uneventful. Tommy felt slightly disappointed that he didn’t find any Earth-shattering revelations about why he had been transported to this universe, but the feeling was easily overshadowed by the looming dread of what was to come when he reached the castle.

Techno had been eerily silent the entire walk home. Typically that would be normal for the hybrid, but Tommy could tell by the way his brother walked straight ahead not even sparing a glance at Tommy the entire way.

Tommy had some explaining to do.

When they reached the castle, the two dropped their hoods and walked through the castle doors. 

Techno led the way through the halls as they weaved through corridors. They were just about through one hallway when Tommy’s stomach rumbled loudly.

Oh, right. He hadn’t eaten yet. He’d promised Phil that he would eat a good lunch to make up for the breakfast he missed. However, he completely missed lunch due to his and Techno’s expedition outdoors.

Judging by his brother’s sharp glance he’d remembered the same.

Techno grumbled quietly underneath his breath before pointing towards Tommy.

“Stay put,” he ordered before walking off down the corridor.

Tommy waited patiently until Techno returned with a plate of baked potatoes. 

Tommy chuckled.

Some things never change.

Munching happily on the potatoes, the two continued walking. By the time they’d reached the library again, Tommy’s plate was empty and his stomach was full.

Techno grabbed the plate from him and set it down on the table before pulling out a chair. He pointed at it, and Tommy rushed to sit down.

Instead of sitting down himself, Techno leaned against the table and stared down at Tommy expectantly. 

For a moment, Tommy considered sidestepping the conversation. Trying to barter for my time to search. He hadn’t been able to get anything truly useful from the village besides finding Tubbo.

Then he looked at Techno. His brother had raised a questioning brow and crossed his arms.

There was no getting out of this one.

Sighing, Tommy went over in his head how to actually explain what the hell happened. He still wouldn’t tell Techno everything, hell no. Only the swap. First, though he needed to make sure that his brother wouldn’t snitch the second the words left Tommy’s mouth.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Dad,” Tommy insisted.

“It depends on what you tell me, Tommy.” Techno insisted, “If it’s for your own good, I have to tell Dad. You know that.”

Tommy shook his head and gave Techno his biggest glare. His brother flinched back in surprise. 

“Promise me, Techno.”

Techno’s ears slumped as he sighed. He gave Tommy one final look of concern before promising, “I won’t tell Dad, Tommy.”

Tommy gave a short nod, before taking a deep breath. 

It’s now or never .

Meeting Techno’s eyes, Tommy stated, “I think I am in the wrong universe.”

Chapter Text

Techno and Phil had explained the basics.

Tommy sat as they told him stories of leaving home with Wilbur at 15, starting a nation, war, election, exile, calling for help from Techno, the second revolution, Phil’s arrival and his best friend’s presidency. 

The same presidency which drove his friend to exile him. Driven out by Dream, the man who Tommy had encountered the prior morning.

They told him he’d only been in exile for a week before he’d come to this universe. The thought should have confused Tommy more.

A week shouldn’t have done this to him. A week shouldn’t have left his body broken and bruised. A week shouldn’t have left him with tattered clothes and only a compass to his name.

Yet, Phil and Techno voided any further questioning.

It wasn’t a trial. There was no jury, no judge, no executioner. Only Tommy. Only their son, their brother. 

It was only Tommy who sat absent from his own surroundings. Glued to the couch Techno had laid him on the night before. Watching this strange new world around him like a spectator.

He couldn’t do anything more even if he tried. 

It was only Tommy that they stared at with reluctant eyes. Slowly moving around the cabin as if pretending he wasn’t there. 

Like he was a ghost.

Techno left out the front door a little while ago while Phil continued working around the house. He’d opened the door and the cold Arctic wind rushed in after. Tommy couldn’t suppress the shiver.

He was cold.

The sun had only begun to rise, the light rushing in through the windows from the far wall.

The light shone across Tommy’s face and it made him squint as he looked around the room.

He noticed Phil rummaging through the Enderchest underneath the window sill. While Tommy couldn’t see the inside of the chest because of the magic seal, he could hear the sounds of items hitting against each other and the edge of the chest as Phil’s hand made wide swipes through.

With each swipe of his hand, Phil grew more and more frustrated. Finally, with a huff, he closed the chest with an aggravated slam before standing up. 

As he stood the man unconsciously spread his wings, and Tommy gasped.

Tommy didn’t remember the day Phil found him. He was only an infant. But his Dad had reminded him every night growing up the story of the day. 

His Dad had been wandering the Arctic wilderness attempting to escape from the pressure of his duties for even an hour.

He’d tucked Techno and Wilbur into bed that night and had quietly left, flying away into the cold dark night.

His dad had landed in one of the few forests covering the continent. He’d continued on foot enjoying the silence only broken by the crunch of snow beneath his feet. 

Then he heard the beat of wings as a small crow perched on his shoulder. Reaching up, his dad pet the creature. It let out a satisfied caw before hopping down in front of his dad.

The crow hopped in front of his father to gain his attention. When Phil crouched down, the bird hopped once more before taking off in flight towards the edge of the forest.

His dad, confused, followed behind quickly using his wings every so often to keep up with the crow.

By the time Phil had caught up with the crow, the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon. The crow had led him to a small clearing in the forest.

At first, Phil turned to look at the crow confused for why it had led him here until he saw it.

A small bundle lying in the snow.

Phil had gasped before rushing forward.

The child was resting. Phil wasn’t sure how long they had been lying in the snow, but the boy seemed pretty at ease. Well, that was until the rays of sunlight forming over the horizon caused the child’s face to scrunch up in discomfort.

Cute.

Phil raised one of his wings as a shade over the bundle and had to stop himself from falling over as the child’s face smoothed out. 

By gods, it was adorable.

Phil let out a small coo as he picked the baby up from the snow. The child opened its eyes and Phil truly did have to beat his wings to keep himself on balance.

Blue eyes as bright as the morning sky above them. Blue like the familiar crest of a kingdom he ruled. Blue like his own.

The child looked just like him.

The child’s eyes looked around in wonder as they took in the world around him and the mysterious man who had awoken them. Blue eyes looked at the sky, the snow, and the trees soaking up every image with childlike wonder.

Then blue eyes met Phil’s wings and the child smiled and released a soft noise of excitement before their eyes met Phil’s again.

Phil smiled warmly down at the child and wrapped said wings around them before whispering, “I’ll keep you safe, little one, I promise.”

Now Tommy’s face scrunched up once more in displeasure as he watched those wings that always shielded him, always protected him, allowed light to seep through singed, mangled feathers.

Phil turned around in shock at Tommy’s gasp. 

“Tommy what’s,” he cut himself off as he followed the boy’s line of sight. 

“Oh.” He said softly before quickly retracted his wings pulling them close to his back underneath his tattered cape. 

Tommy wanted to speak, to ask, to beg his father to tell him. He wanted to know, needed to know what happened. Why weren’t they telling him anything? Why were they acting like this was normal? This wasn’t right, shouldn’t be right.

He stayed quiet.

Phil stared blankly at where his wings once were, then slowly turned to Tommy. Tommy thought maybe now would be the moment that his father would crack, and tell him everything he’s missed. Maybe he’d hug him, or ruffle his hair, or even just smile in his direction. 

Maybe Tommy would finally be able to feel warm.

Phil only nodded his head to the ladder at the end of the room. “Techno laid some clothes upstairs for you to change into. Once you’re done, we can show you how to tend to the turtles and bees.”

Tommy nodded methodically and stiffly climbed the ladder to the top floor. There were three doors. Tommy peeked into the first door and found what he assumed to be Techno’s room. There was a large bed with a simple white shirt and trousers laid out.

It looked like his clothes back home. All he needed was his cape and his image would be complete. 

As complete as he could be in an entirely different universe.

Tommy quickly threw off his dirty shorts and shirt before changing. He pulled the trousers on and reached for the shirt. Wrapping it around himself, Tommy felt a small bit of tension drain from his shoulders. At least he was allowed this little bit of normalcy.

Looking down to begin buttoning the shirt, Tommy froze. Along his torso were two raised scars, both mortal in nature. 

Tommy shakily raised one hand to the bigger scar along his stomach. 

Stabbed through the stomach.

His other hand moved before Tommy could realize touching the one on his chest.

Arrow wound to the heart.

Holding his hands there, Tommy felt his knees give out beneath him. He hit the floor with a quiet thud, but the noise was distant to his pounding ears.

This Tommy had died. Twice. He had been wounded twice and had lost his life. He had been the same age or younger than Tommy and had died.

He couldn’t feel it.

Tommy clutched at the scars tighter. His nails digging into the raised skin. He couldn’t imagine. He couldn’t feel the pain. He couldn’t feel anything. Just scars. Only reminders of a pain long past. A pain Tommy had been spared.

Why? Why was he here? Why was he feeling this? He wasn’t feeling anything at all, and it wasn’t fair. Why did he feel so disconnected in this body that wasn’t his own? Why?

He needed to feel the pain. Wanted to understand how this version of himself could go through such a thing and still stand. Still live. 

Why couldn’t he feel the pain?

Tommy closed his eyes tightly and tried to imagine. Tried to pretend to feel the blade sinking into his skin, feel the air get knocked from his lungs as the arrow embedded itself in its chest.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t understand it. 

It wasn’t fair.

A knock resounded on the door to the bedroom and Phil’s voice drifted through, “Hey, mate. Techno’s back if you’re ready to help with the turtles. We’ll be downstairs.”

Phil’s footsteps softened as he made his way back downstairs and Tommy felt himself break further.

Everything was too normal. It shouldn’t be normal. He shouldn’t have to keep going when there were two deadly scars plaguing his body. He shouldn’t have to pretend. 

But his counterpart never got that luxury.

Tommy forced himself to stand on shaking knees. His face pulled together in a serious concentration, he buttoned up the shirt dutifully ignoring the way his hands still shook.

The scars were locked away behind the shirt and he turned around to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes met the image of him in clothes typical to his world. 

Prince Tommy of the-

He felt the scars beneath his shirt itch. No. He was just Tommy now.

Just Tommy.

Throwing one last glance in the mirror, Tommy turned and left.

-

And so the three fell into somewhat of a routine.

Tommy learned to tend to the bees and turtles, he was introduced to the dogs and taught what to feed them and when, and he learned what needed to be done around the house each day before they all went to sleep.

And so he did. Tommy woke up and did his chores. 

But questions still lingered and he still watched as Phil and Techno worked around him. 

He wanted to ask what they were planning to do about the swap, but it was like they’d completely forgotten about it. It was like they’d completely forgotten about Tommy entirely. Tommy rarely even saw the two despite living with them.

Tommy would wake up to a house already vacant as Phil and Techno had fucked off to do gods’ know what. He’d drag himself into the kitchen and quickly eat the plate of food left by Phil before setting off to do his tasks. 

All the while a thousand questions plagued him. 

Why were they avoiding him? Why did they seem so serious all the time? Why were they acting so distant? Were they not a family in this universe? What happened to his dad’s wings? Where was Wilbur? What had happened in this world to make things like this? Why couldn’t they all just talk ?

Then one day, while Tommy was tending to the turtles, he finally got to ask a question. Techno had arrived with a basket for the scutes while Tommy was checking on the state of the newest eggs. 

A couple of them would hatch soon. Maybe Tommy could sneak out that night and watch them. Watch them make the trek from sand to water.

When a female turtle finishes laying her eggs in the nest, she abandons them. Not out of malice but because hatchlings can and must make the trek to shore themselves.

In the wild, the hatchlings have a 1 in 1000 chance of surviving to adulthood left on their own. 

Here, in the farm, all the hatchlings will survive living peacefully with the rest of the turtles.

But the hatchlings will stay forgotten. Even trapped together in the enclosure, it was every turtle for themselves. 

What a sad life to live.

Tommy glanced up as Techno began collecting the scutes from the shore. Even out here in the middle of the Arctic collecting remnants of turtle shells his brother was armed to the teeth.

It was an interesting sight, his brother gently chiding the turtles who tried to knock over the basket while covered in full netherite armour and a glinting sword strapped to his hip. It would almost be funny if Tommy didn’t know better.

He looked like he could take on an army while tending to the turtles as gentle as one would a newborn baby.

Tommy couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Why are you wearing all that?”

He could see his brother tense before slowly continuing to collect the scutes. 

“Wearing what?” Techno refused to look Tommy’s way.

“Your armour, dumbass,” Tommy rolled his eyes and gestured to his brother even though he wasn’t looking. “Why are you wearing all that just to check on the turtles? Afraid they’re going to snap at you or something?”

Techno stopped picking up the scutes. 

“Do you remember-“ he cut himself off. Tommy was worried he was going to shut him out once more. Leave him wondering with only the slightest hint that an answer existed in the first place. 

Then Techno turned and faced Tommy. His brother looked tired. That was the first thing Tommy noticed. It wasn’t the tired you got from a bad night’s rest. It was much deeper. A tired you got only from carrying yourself tightly for too long. A tired where even when you begin to break, you only tighten the coils holding you together. 

He wondered how long Techno had been going for.

“A while back, I got into an argument with you, or this universe’s version of you. I had done something I didn’t want to, and he was pretty upset at me for it. We argued but we couldn’t get through to each other, so Wilbur-“

Techno stopped himself for a moment before continuing, “Wilbur decided that we should fight it out. We both agreed and not much later we’d done just that. I gave him a black eye before his friend Tubbo called it.

“I thought that would be the end of it, but Tommy was still mad at me. He wouldn’t stop screaming at me, and I finally got fed up and told him that ‘The only universal language is violence,’ and left.”

Tommy was confused as to what Techno was getting at, but his brother continued.

“I still believe in that. People can argue all they want, Tommy. They can try to explain how they feel hurt, but when it comes down to it, when people get really desperate, really scared of not being heard, they hurt others.”

“And people will listen, and then they’ll say their piece. The conversation continues.” He gestured to his armour, “I’ve said my piece, now I await the response.”

Without waiting for Tommy to respond, Techno grabbed the basket of scutes and turned back to the house.

Tommy didn’t go see the turtles hatch that night.

-

Things had only grown more tense in the cabin after that interaction. Tommy hadn’t seen Techno since the day at the turtles, the man spending hours out of the cabin even after the chores for the day had been finished.

That was the way it was tonight. Tommy had finished his tasks and returned to the cabin to find Phil cooking a pot of soup in the kitchen. He’d given Phil a subtle nod on his way into the cabin before shedding his cloak by the door.

They’d eaten dinner in silence. The only sounds being their spoons knocking against the bowls and the wind rattling against the windows. 

It was unsettling to eat meals like this. Back in his universe, meals were special. It was the one time nobody was allowed to interrupt them. Unless the kingdom was on fire or there was a threat to their lives, his dad ordered his guards to wait until they’d finished their meal.

That didn’t mean meals were peaceful. Not in the slightest. He and his brothers were menaces, and on a three-man mission to make their father regret ever eating with them.

Tommy worked in loud, elaborate stories, while Wilbur would ask increasingly concerning and random questions usually surrounding consuming inedible substances. The two would usually get into a long argument increasing in obscurity with Techno adding in his own quips to add fuel to the flames.

All the while their father sat there attempting to follow his sons’ conversation getting increasingly more bewildered as time went on. Though eventually, one of them broke and the table dissolved into wheezing laughter. 

Tommy hadn’t realized how much he cherished those meals until he had to go without them.

Eventually, the silence became unbearable, and Tommy had placed his bowl on the counter before retreating to 

It’d been 4 days and Tommy still was sleeping on the couch. 

Tommy curled up underneath the blankets trying to drift off to the shadows dancing against the walls in the low candlelight. 

Phil was sitting in the armchair across the room, tending to his wings, or wing. He brushed through the feathers on his right wing with gentle dutifulness, making sure each was set correctly before moving on to the next. His left wing lay untouched, mangled feathers left to remain out of place and uncleaned.

Tommy stared as Phil continued his preening in silence. He’d seen his father do the same back in his universe, every night his dad would sit himself on the couch in his room and preen. Looking over every feather and sorting them accordingly making sure none are left unchecked.

His dad had described it like taking a long shower, “You have to do it, but it can be really nice if you do it right.”

This Phil only looked upon his wings like it was a chore to be completed. Another in the long list of things they did today. 

He looked sad.

Tommy once again felt the question bubble out of him before he could stop.

“Why aren’t you preening the other one?”

Phil’s hand faltered on his wing. The left one twitching unconsciously as if understanding that it was being mentioned.

Phil seemed to turn the words over in his head as he continued to run his fingers through his feathers.

“Sometimes,” he paused, “instead of focusing on mending what has been broken, it’s better to focus on protecting that which you still have left to lose.”

Even as Phil said the words he didn’t look at the mangled wing to his side instead choosing to stare out the window to his right. Phil finished preening his wing quickly and made his way to his room without another word.

For some reason, Tommy felt like the words weren’t about the wing at all.

-

The next day found all three of them within the cabin for the first time since Tommy arrived. 

Techno had arrived back at the cabin late the previous night. Tommy wouldn’t have noticed him entering if it wasn’t for the sound of his axe hitting the floorboard above Tommy’s head with a dull thud.

Tommy had awoken and laid awake as he heard Techno shuffle around and fall into bed. He had peeked out the window and found the moon a quarter way from setting. 

Techno had a long night.

Though, Tommy didn’t need to know what time his brother returned to the cabin last night to know that. The hybrid looked two steps from falling over as he organized the bookshelf in the living room.

At least he was taking it easy, today.

Phil, meanwhile, was busy laying out all the ingredients for lunch. Tommy couldn’t see much from the couch, but he thought he saw some of the rabbit meat Techno had brought back the other day. He sighed in relief.

Thank god it’s not potatoes again.

Tommy wasn’t doing much himself. When the sunlight had made its way through the window across from his bed, Tommy had rolled over in protest. 

He wasn’t getting up today. He just wanted some time to himself.

Tommy had spent the majority of the morning counting snowflakes on the window panes. He had lost count about an hour ago around 336. 

This was boring.

It was something he’d said to Wilbur back in his universe as a kid when the man had forced him to do the same inside the castle walls.

There was a blizzard in the kingdom and Tommy had wanted to go play in the snow. Wilbur had set him upon his lap and pointed at the large window in his room. 

“Start counting, child,” He teased.

“I’m not a child,” Tommy had elbowed Wilbur in the ribs before whining, “and there's too many snowflakes. I can’t count. It’s impossible!”

Despite the bruise forming on his ribs, his brother had let out a loud laugh. “That’s what makes it fun. The idea of doing the impossible. even if you can’t do it perfectly, you’ve still done it. Haven’t you?”

Looking back, Tommy thinks Wilbur had just done it to help him learn his numbers better. Yet, he couldn’t help himself from starting from the beginning again as more flakes danced against the glass.

He missed Wilbur.

A knock sounded at the door and he heard Phil move to open it. The chill Arctic wind brushed through the cabin as he greeted their guest.

“Hello, Phil!”

Tommy knew that voice.

Techno dropped the book he was holding and turned towards the door. Tommy did the same and strained to see the face he knew hid behind Phil’s spread wings.

Of all the times for him to use his wings.

“What are you doing here, Gho-“

“Wilbur?” 

Phil’s wings finally dropped and blue eyes met an endless void of white. A desaturated mimicry of his brother’s face gave Tommy a bright smile before exclaiming, “Tommy!”

Time stood still in that moment.

Wilbur was dead.

Tommy couldn’t move as the spectre bounded towards him. He heard Phil and Techno shout protests but the ghost ignored them. 

The spirit reached him and attempted to wrap his arms around Tommy. Yet Tommy couldn’t feel anything but a chill breeze against his arms.

He couldn’t feel his brother.

Too cold.

Why was he cold?

It was so cold.

He couldn’t feel him.

Ice formed around Tommy’s heart. He was frozen still staring straight through the translucent form of his brother. He could see the snowflakes covering the window. 

1, 2, 3…

Techno moved and grabbed Tommy’s arm. The boy was dragged behind him as Techno snapped, “What are doing here, Ghostbur?”

He couldn’t see the snowflakes anymore.

Ghostbur’s face dropped into an imitation of disappointment before it quickly morphed into realization.

“Well, I was actually looking for you, Phil!” his voice echoed throughout the cabin, “I was in L’manburg and I couldn’t find you so I went to your house, but Tubbo and the rest of the cabinet were there.”

Tommy saw Phil and Techno tense.

Ghostbur’s smile went warm, or as warm as it could get. “Oh, Tubbo’s been doing a great job as president. Have I mentioned that?”

“Just keep telling your story, Ghostbur,” Phil sighed.

“Anyways, the cabinet was there, and they asked me if I had seen you. So I told them I had been looking for you. They said they needed to find you as well, but the door to your house was locked.

“I offered to help by unlocking it. I looked in the spot you used to put the key back home, under the flowerpot with the lilies but it wasn’t there.” Ghostbur’s face turned dark, “When I didn’t find the key, Quackity pulled out an axe and broke down your door.”

If Phil’s face hadn’t been angry before, the look his father wore showed nothing but pure unbridled rage. 

Ghostbur must have sensed this as he began to wave his hands frantically. “I tried to stop them, I swear, but they were insistent!”

Phil’s face softened somewhat. “It’s alright. Just keep talking,” he encouraged.

Ghostbur nodded, “Okay. Well, when Quackity broke the door, they went in and began going through your things. They said they ‘needed to see if you were conversing with the enemy.’ I tried to ask who that was but Tubbo found this compass and they all started cheering.”

Phil let out a quiet curse as Techno slowly stepped forward. 

“Ghostbur,” he implored, “I need you to tell me where they are right now.”

The spirit’s face morphed into confusion as he quietly confessed, “I followed them here. They’re just in the forest outside your house. I don’t know why they’re here, but I saw your house and stopped by to say hello.”

Without another beat, Techno and Phil broke into motion. Techno rummaging through chests and pulling out a set of brewing stands while he yelled orders of ingredients to Phil. The man had slid down the ladder and returned not a minute later with an arm full of nether wart, blaze powder, glass bottles, and turtle scutes.

Techno frantically reached for the supplies and began placing them into the stands. After setting his own potions to brew, Phil made a dash up the ladder to his room and returned wearing the spare set of netherite armour Techno had gifted him.

All the while Ghostbur and Tommy stood by watching. Two spectators alike in their uselessness. They didn’t move nor did they speak as they watched their family prepare for battle

When the potions finished brewing, Techno reached into a chest and tossed some spare golden apples towards Phil. 

Soon enough, the two looked ready to take on a whole army. Techno peeked out the window and gave a quiet nod to Phil.

They were here.

Techno and Phil made their way to the door before Techno froze and returned to the living room. He reached the enderchest before retrieving two golden statues.

Tommy couldn’t suppress his gasp.

Totems of the Undying.

Items so rare that Tommy had only heard of them in legends his dad recited to him before he went to bed. They were said to be powerful enough to stop death itself. 

Tommy chanced a glance at Ghostbur before he felt cold metal being pressed into his hands.

He looked up to see Techno in front of him. “Tommy, I need you to hold onto this and stay in here. No matter what you hear, you don’t let go of this and you don’t leave this house.”

He looked down to the totem in his hands. Techno gave him a totem. One of the most sought after items in the world and his brother had just pushed it into his hands without a second thought.

This was going to be dangerous.

Tommy shook his head and tried to push the golden artifact back into his brother’s hands. “No. You need it more than I do.”

“No. I really don’t,” Techno chuckled before turning to Ghostbur. “Make sure he stays in here, alright? L’manburg can’t know he’s here.”

Ghostbur nodded and stepped closer to Tommy. Tommy tried to suppress a shiver as the chill air from the ghost’s form passed over his side.

Techno turned to leave but Tommy grabbed his wrist. “Let me help.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Techno reached and removed Tommy’s hand from his wrist. “Can you even fight?”

No. He really couldn’t. There was never any need to learn back in his universe. The kingdom had been in peacetime for over a century now, and any threat was easily thwarted by the guards or his father. 

Before Tommy could consider lying, Techno scoffed, “Thought so. Like I said, kid. Stay inside and hold onto the totem. Those idiots will be gone by the hour.”

Tommy wanted to protest. He wasn’t useless. He needed to help. What was even the point of him being here if he was just going to stand around and watch as his family was attacked?

“Techno, they’re here,” Phil called from the door.

Techno nodded and gave Tommy one last look before returning to Phil’s side

Tommy gripped the totem tighter in his hands as his dad and brother walked out to greet their attackers.

Chapter Text

“Heh?” Techno blurted.

Tommy rolled his eyes and slowly repeated, “I said, I think I’m in the wrong universe. Actually, scratch that, I know I’m in the wrong universe.”

Techno stared blankly at him for a second as if waiting for Tommy to start laughing and declare that he’d been pranking Techno. When Tommy remained silent, Techno bluntly stated, “You’re not lying.”

Tommy shook his head in response. Techno hummed and they sat in silence for a few beats. Techno seemed to be considering what to do with the newly found information. Not knowing what else to do, Tommy began picking at the threads on his pants.

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the silence was killing him. Maybe he thought Techno would doubt him more, but the man had taken his word as truth fairly early.

It was not something he was used to back in his world, where it would’ve taken until the sun was setting for Tommy to get through to Techno. Techno had always been one of those who had to see it to believe it, and Tommy surely couldn’t show that he’d been transported to another universe. He needed to be trusted, and this Techno had given him that trust without much of a second thought.

“Where is he then,” Techno broke the silence, “Where is our Tommy?”

It wasn’t angry, but the words made Tommy curl closer into himself all the same. What was he supposed to say? He was pretty sure he knew where their Tommy was but was it even worth disclosing that when he’d have to see this version of his brother grow to hate him as well? Resentful over the hell he’d sent that version of him too.

He’d have to see this man’s face morph into that same spiteful loathing, that same pure ire over Tommy causing problems once more.

Tommy curled his hands into the fabric of his pants before he softly confessed, “I don’t know. I went to sleep in my world and I woke up here that’s all I know.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. 

Techno’s face softened the smallest amount, “Kid, I’m not upset. I’m just trying to understand what happened. Are you sure you don’t have any more information?”

Tommy shook his head once more. He wasn’t even lying this time. He truly did not know much else besides what he already told Techno. He didn’t know how actually he got here, why he was here, or how to send him back.

The thought of being stuck in this universe forever crept its way into Tommy’s mind. What if he was trapped here forever? What if he spent the rest of his life here, never worrying about when he’ll lose another home, another friend, another life? 

Wouldn’t it be nice?

Tommy stopped the thought. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t stay. It wasn’t fair to this world’s version of his family, and it certainly wasn’t fair to this world’s Tommy.

If he even existed anymore.

Techno sighed and ran his hand through his hair. His braid came a little loose from the motion, but Techno paid it no mind. “We need to figure out what the hell happened and how to undo it.”

“What do you suggest we do?” 

“As much as I know you’ll disagree, we probably need to tell Dad.”

Tommy shook his head vehemently, “You promised you wouldn’t tell him.”

Techno gave him a small glare, “Tommy, I think this extends outside the bounds of our original agreement.”

“An agreement is an agreement,” Tommy declared, “I thought you would know this with all your stupid books.”

“And that agreement is void when made under false pretences. Especially when one party is impersonating someone else,” Techno snipped.

Tommy couldn’t hide the flash of hurt that crossed his face at the words. He knew they were true, but the confirmation from Techno that he wasn’t the Tommy Techno wanted stung nonetheless.

Once more Techno’s face softened as he sighed. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean it like that.” He stood up and collected Tommy’s abandoned plate from the table. “I do have to tell Dad though, the situation is too serious to leave him in the dark.”

As Techno passed by Tommy’s seat at the small table, Tommy reached out and grabbed Techno’s arm. The man stared down in shock as Tommy looked up to him with pleading eyes. “Please, Techno. Just give me some time. I just need some more time. Please don’t tell, Dad.”

Techno silently removed Tommy’s grip from his wrist. Tommy shrunk down in his seat. He guessed that was to be expected. Tommy had no clue what he was going to do, what Phil was going to do with him. Techno seemed somewhat calm, but Phil was the King, would he be more cautious of Tommy? Techno walked to the door to the library and stopped. 

“48 hours.” 

“What?” Tommy asked.

“You have 48 hours to tell Dad yourself,” he turned around and gave Tommy a serious look, “After that, your time is up and I will tell him myself.” With that, Techno left Tommy alone in the library. 

Fuck.

48 hours was not a lot of time. It was better than nothing, but it was still not enough time for Tommy to do much of anything he needed to.

Where did he even start? He’d gone into the town and didn’t find anything useful besides seeing the Stronghold and finding Tubbo.

Tubbo!

Oh, he’d totally forgotten! He needed a new communicator, so he could talk to Tubbo.

At first, Tommy intended to just talk to Tubbo because he missed his best friend, but he could really use all the help he could get now and Tubbo was one of the few people Tommy could truly trust to always have his back.

Until he exiled him.

Tommy shook himself from the thought. He needed to get shit done before the 48 hours were up. He wanted to curse Technoblade for being such a prick but he also understood Techno’s reasoning as well.

They wanted Tommy gone as much as he did.

Tommy pushed himself up from his seat and left the library. Walking through the corridor with the paintings, Tommy kept his eyes glued to the floor. When he reached the main hallway, he stepped out into a hall bathed in tones of pink and orange. The sun was setting. Was it truly that late already? 

Tommy stepped forward into the corridor. He needed to find someone who could get him a new communicator. Maybe he could talk to Phil himself? Was there a specific part of the castle for stuff like that? Could he just ask a guard?

“Prince Tommy!” a voice called.

Tommy’s head shot up as a guard sped down the hallway towards him. There was a small part of Tommy that instinctively wanted to run the other way. Maybe he could hide in the library. He wasn’t even sure what he did wrong.

The guard reached Tommy and only bowed.

Oh right, he was the prince. He wasn’t in trouble.

Raising up, the guard continued, “I was just looking for you, Your Highness. Your father has requested you and your brothers for the evening meal, and I was asked to escort you.”

Tommy wanted to decline, he had just eaten, but judging from the guard’s words the invitation to dinner wasn’t a request but a requirement.

Guess he was eating lunch and dinner at the same time.

“Sure,” Tommy nodded, “Lead the way.”

The guard then escorted Tommy through the hallway. Tommy wasn’t entirely sure why he needed to be escorted around his own home. It was making getting what he needed to get done a real workout.

Tommy quickly remembered why he left the library in the first place and quickly asked, “Actually, could you notify someone that I’m in need of a new communicator?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” The guard quickly glanced back at Tommy face slightly concerned, “If I may ask, is there any reason you need a new one?”

Yeah, he had just given it to a random peasant in the town he wasn’t supposed to be in.

“I just misplaced it,” Tommy casually explained, “I woke up this morning and couldn’t find it anywhere. Honestly, Wilbur probably stole it to mess with me.”

The guard nodded face relaxing the tiniest amount, “Prince Wilbur has always been one for pranks,” he chuckled to himself, “My first day on the guard he tried to convince me and another guy to leave our posts.”

Tommy hummed, “Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“He must have pitied us somewhat, or at least seen the look of panic on our faces, because he started laughing before we’d even moved,” the guard glanced down at Tommy, “I’ll work on getting you that new communicator, but I’m sure Prince Wilbur will return yours eventually. A prank is no fun without the reveal.”

Eventually, they’d reached the doors to the dining hall. It would have felt like deja vu if not for the fact that instead of nauseating fear he only felt mildly annoyed at being interrupted.

Probably just like Prince Tommy himself sometimes felt.

Tommy gave a quick thanks to the guard before pushing his way into the room. Instead of being the first to arrive like that morning, he was met with the sight of everyone gathered around the table.

“Well, guess he finally decided to show up,” Techno smirked, “I expect my reparations for doubting me, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shoved Techno’s shoulder only to let out a quiet yelp as the man retaliated by smacking Wilbur over the head. His glasses fell against the table narrowly avoiding the steaming bowl of soup in front of him.

He whirled on Techno and began lecturing him on how that was his third pair of glasses for the year and if Techno was the reason he needed a fourth he would never forgive him.

All the while, Phil smiled gently at Tommy, “Hey, mate.”

Tommy walked into the room with slightly more confidence than he’d previously done, now knowing where to sit. However, he couldn't hide the awkward grimace on his face as he made his way to the table. 

This was awkward. It shouldn’t have been. He was just having dinner with his family. Just a simple meal, where they’d laugh and smile and joke, and not try to kill each other at the first wrong move.

Unlike at breakfast, the first portion of the meal was already laid out on the table. It looked to be some kind of soup.

Tommy had to admit it did look somewhat appetizing. Maybe he could stomach another meal after all. He dipped his spoon into the broth and brought it to his lips blowing lightly as it steamed against his face. When he was satisfied, he took his first bite.

Holy shit.

It was the best soup he’d had in years. It reminded him of his Dad’s recipe he’d make from the carrots in the garden when the harvest was finished. Tommy went back for another spoonful when he caught the look of Wilbur across the table.

He was staring at him expectantly, raising his brow like he was prompting Tommy to do something. Tommy, unsure, glanced over at Techno but the man was absorbed in his food and didn’t notice Tommy’s dilemma.

Damnit, Techno was the only one who knew about the swap and could bail him out if he fucked up playing the part of Tommy. Though, he’d say he didn’t do too bad a job earlier. His family had been more concerned rather than suspicious so it was a win for Tommy regardless.

Tommy just gave Wilbur back one of his typical glares, a brotherly way of saying “fuck off I’m busy,” before going back to his soup.

Wilbur apparently did not appreciate it as Tommy felt a sharp kick against his shin from under the table. He jumped up and the soup spilt from his spoon onto the table.

Tommy dropped his spoon in his bowl and gave Wilbur the fiercest glare he could manage. Wilbur only raised his eyebrow and nodded his head towards Phil.

What the fuck was Wilbur asking him to do? Talk to Phil? Growing impatient, Wilbur sent another kick to Tommy’s shin and Tommy immediately retaliated with a blind kick of his own. He must have hit his target as Wilbur jumped once more.

“What’s your pr-“ he was cut off by Techno elbowing him in the side. Wilbur glanced at his twin who shook his head solemnly.

Not now.

Wilbur’s expression dropped from frustration to concern immediately looking between his two brothers. Wilbur looked like he wanted to press, but Techno only tapped his spoon against the side of his bowl with a small chime. 

Just keep eating, Wilbur.

Phil who had been peacefully sipping his soup the entire time placed his spoon down before gently asking, “Everything alright?”

Before Wilbur could speak, Techno quickly replied, “Yep. I was just curious what went into the soup,” he turned his head to Wilbur, “what do you think, Wilbur, any guesses?”

It took a beat for Wilbur to catch on, still staring at Tommy with a confused look across the table. When he finally processed the words, he perked up, albeit slightly less than normal, “Well, Techno, I would wager that there must be some algae in here somewhere.”

Phil let out a choked laugh as he set his spoon down, “Algae?”

Wilbur nodded, “It’s actually edible, I promise. I should know.”

Tommy met Techno’s eyes across the table. He gave a small nod.

Thank you.

Techno’s face shifted to something more sombre as his eyes shifted to the rest of his family before he returned the action. Turning his attention back to the conversation, Techno smirked, “Pray tell, Wilbur. How would you know that?”

Wilbur’s eyebrows rose to his hairline and he exaggeratedly waved his hands around in defence, “Hey man, sometimes when you’re on vacation, you have to try out the new cuisine.” Despite appearing nervous, Tommy saw the glint in Wilbur’s eyes as he hurriedly finished his sentence. A glint Tommy would recognize anywhere. 

He was acting.

Wilbur had always loved exaggerating his emotions, his stories, and his actions. Tommy remembered Wilbur taking him and Tubbo out to the prairie by their house allowing them to play war with him being the fearless general leading the two brave soldiers into battle.

It was a shame that the scene didn’t end when dinner was called for. Wilbur loved playing his part, and he played it well. Yet, there came a point where he never exited stage left. Where the weight of the spotlight followed his brother through every moment, causing him to lose sight of the wings. It caused him to forget that there was an out to it all.

At the end of his life, his brother took his last breaths on a stage. 

Yet, this brother across from him would exit stage left. He’d take his final bow and leave sight of the audience behind him. This brother would take his last breaths as his brother.

Tommy watched as this family interacted, as they flowed so seamlessly together. 

When Techno questioned Wilbur’s point, his brother would only add another outlandish claim to his argument. The two bouncing back in forth in an endless argument only overshadowed by their father’s joyous laughter at their antics.

There were moments where they stuttered, where they fell silent waiting on a part that would never be played.

It was his cue.

Tommy would stay waiting in the wings. He didn’t know the script, a shit excuse for an understudy. 

It was alright, though. The show would go on. His part wasn’t that important all the while.

The conversation still continued until it delved into silence as they focused on finishing their now cold soup. Tommy assumed such silence would be suffocating, would be a sign that something was wrong, but it didn’t feel like the end. Just a simple break from the chaos, to sit in silence and enjoy each other’s company.

An intermission.

Techno was the first to finish his meal, slowly setting his spoon into his bowl and removing the serviette from his lap. Instead of getting up, though, he stayed seated fiddling with his earrings.

Wilbur and his dad finished not long after, and the conversation began once more as Phil asked, “So what have you been up to today?”

“Tommy and I hung out in the library.”

“Oh?” Phil’s head perked up at that, “What did you two do in there?”

Techno’s ear gave a slight twitch as he tried to conjure up an easy lie for their father, “I found the gremlin rummaging through my books, so I gave him a crash course on mythology.”

Phil gave a small smile, turning to Tommy, “Yeah? What did he teach you?”

Tommy felt himself freeze. His Techno was obsessed with mythology, sure, but Tommy never truly learned much. He fumbled as he spoke the first name that came to mind, “Theseus. He told me about Theseus.”

Phil leaned forward in his seat. “Really? I’ve never heard about that one. Tell me more.”

Tommy peered at Techno across the table. Only a small time ago he did the same thing to a Techno across the chasm of his once-home. A Techno who spoke of a man called Theseus. Tommy carefully recited what he heard, “His country was in danger, and he sent himself to fight for them. He slew the Minotaur and saved the city.”

Phil nodded in understanding, “So he was a hero?”

“Yeah,” Tommy whispered. “He was, and for his sacrifice, he was exiled. He died alone and in disgrace from his own people.”

He could see the way Phil and Wilbur’s shoulders sagged at the comment. Wilbur pushed his glasses up, “What kind of lesson is that supposed to teach? Shit myth if you ask me.”

“It’s not shit. It’s true,” Tommy shook his head, “Good things don’t happen to heroes.”

He should know. When Techno first shouted the words, Tommy assumed his brother was just on another one of his pretentious rants about justice, but he was wrong. He was so wrong. 

Techno was issuing a warning. Techno never intended to kill him, he didn’t have to. He knew Tommy’s fate had already been sealed. Had been sealed long before that day, before Techno had even arrived before L’manburg even existed. Tommy’s fate was sealed the second he went against Dream.

It was always Dream.

Wilbur and Phil both sat awkwardly silent after Tommy’s confession. They looked at him with concern and it made Tommy vastly uncomfortable. 

“Well,” he quickly covered, “that’s just what I learned about it! I’m not the best at this, you know?”

Phil let out a small chuckle, “It’s alright, mate. I hardly know any of them anyways.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur laughed, “it’s alright you're not the brightest, Tommy. We never expected anything else.”

Tommy whirled on Wilbur, “What is that supposed to mean, dickhead?”

“I’m just saying that some of us have higher IQs and that’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Yeah, and mine is higher than yours, so I suggest you kindly shut the fuck up.”

“Okay,” Phil placated, “let’s calm down. Thank you Tommy for telling us about the myth. I’m sure you and Techno had a lot of fun today, right?”

The question was directed at Techno mainly. Tommy turned to look at his brother to find him staring right at him. “Yeah,” he answered without looking at Phil, “it was interesting.”

Tommy wanted to hide away from Techno’s gaze, but luckily for him, Wilbur chimed, “Well, I sure had a productive day!”

“What did you do today, Wil?” Their father asked politely.

“Well, I finally got to work on-“

Wilbur was interrupted by the doors to the dining hall opening. A guard walked in looking slightly frazzled. 

“Your Majesty,” he spoke hurriedly, “apologies for the interruption.”

Phil sat up straighter and gave the sharpest glare Tommy had seen. “You know my policy for meals. Why are you here?” He looked pissed. Tommy almost felt bad for the poor guard at the other end of his father’s stare.

“I do know, The guard nodded, “however, there has been an update to the current situation.”

Phil seemed to grow tenser for a moment before his shoulders fell. “Understood. I shall only be a moment,” he waved his hand towards the guard, “Thank you for informing me. You are dismissed.”

The guard rushed out of the room, and Phil sighed, “I’m sorry, boys, but I’m going to have to leave early.”

“Why?” Wilbur protested, “You never leave meals? You promised!”

“I know,” Phil looked guilty, “I’m sorry.”

Wilbur slammed his hand on the table, “This isn’t fair! Can’t it wait another hour?”

“I’m sorry,” Phil repeated, placing his hand over Wilbur’s on the table. Wilbur slightly calmed down, only staring at Phil with disappointment. “I promised you all that I wouldn’t leave meals unless it was detrimental to the kingdom or our family, and that promise remains true.”

Phil stood up from his seat, “I hope you all understand, and I promise that this will soon pass.” With that, he left with only the small thud of the dining room’s doors resounding through the now silent room.

“I didn’t even get to tell him about my day,” Wilbur mumbled.

“Dad told us it was important, so I think it’s best we believe him, and look forward to when things go back to normal.”

Wilbur groaned leaning back in his seat, “Yeah, but who knows when that will be? I just wish he would tell us what’s going on!”

Techno’s eyes shifted to Tommy for a moment before he consoled his twin, “It’s alright. Dad’s got it under control.” He placed his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but I wanna know!” Wilbur sat for a moment before he quietly sat up, “Do you think this had something to do with the Strong-“

“Wilbur,” Techno warned, curling his fingers tighter into his twin’s shoulder, “Now is not the time.”

Interesting.

Wilbur shoved Techno’s hand off. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. I just wished he would be more honest with us.”

“Dad is honest with us. We just have to trust him, all of us.” Tommy hardened his stare as Techno met his eyes. 

Wilbur sighed, “Yeah. Yeah. I’m gonna go.” He stood up flicking Techno’s forehead on his way out, “Later.”

As soon as Wilbur had left, Techno turned his attention to Tommy. “How did you know about that story?”

For a moment, Tommy considered telling the truth. How would this Techno react? Knowing that he compared Tommy to Theseus. Knowing he told him to die like the hero he was? Would he feel guilty? Did Tommy want him to feel guilt? 

No, he didn’t.

“I didn’t lie,” Tommy shrugged, “You told me.”

Techno hummed, “Why did I choose that specific myth?”

Tommy gave Techno one last shrug, “Not sure, guess you just found it fitting.”

Techno nodded and pushed himself up from his seat. “48 hours, Tommy,” he warned, “Don’t waste it.

Tommy needed to get shit done, and fast.

—

First things first, Tommy needed to figure out what the hell was going on with Phil and the kingdom. If the kingdom and the royal family were at risk, then it’s entirely possible it had something to do with whatever caused Tommy to swap. 

Even if it wasn’t, Tommy couldn’t focus on getting back to his universe if he died in this one.

Tommy considered his options. He could try and hunt down Phil and try to get information by eavesdropping, but if he got caught, he was not sure he could talk his way out of that one.

He’d probably need someone there to back him up if things went wrong. He couldn’t ask Techno, though. Techno would just insist that they just tell Phil.

Tommy let his lips turn up into a mischievous smile. There was always another brother he could ask. A brother who would never turn down the opportunity to cause trouble, no questions asked.

Tommy assumed that Wilbur’s room couldn’t have been far from his own. He made the trek up the stairs to where he remembered his room to be. It would really suck if he got lost now.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he heard a soft melody drifting through the air.

Oh.

Tommy gripped the bannister tighter. He hadn’t heard that sound in so long. The soft drifting strum of guitar strings. The melancholy voice echoing above it all, carrying lyrics written on anything his brother could find at the most inopportune times.

He missed it.

He climbed the rest of the stairs quickly and followed the melody as if in a trance, the sound growing louder with each step. The sound came from behind one of the many large white doors. 

It was the same melody Wilbur had been working on during the election. Tommy had heard him up throughout the night in the van humming the same tune, furiously writing down lyrics when he’d found something he liked. 

The song was never finished. They weren’t able to grab Wilbur’s guitar when they fled L’manburg the first time. It was so silent in the cave those first few weeks. Even when Techno retrieved the instrument from Manburg on one of his reconnaissance missions, Wilbur never picked it up. 

Wilbur never played another song. Tommy never got to hear the melody finish, always humming an unfinished tune as he mined away in that stupid cave. 

Sometimes he’d grab the guitar and try to recreate the song he’d heard Wilbur play so long ago, but his fingers always seemed to fumble, never able to play the right notes, forgetting which chord came next. Eventually, he’d taken to just holding the guitar close humming along to an imaginary Wilbur happily strumming his song.

Resting head on the door, Tommy let the familiar tune begin as a hum on his lips. He remembered this part, easily harmonizing with Wilbur’s voice through the door. He could almost sign along if he was brave enough, allowing his voice to meld with his brother’s. 

But Tommy is not brave, so he hums a tune long since forgotten in his world. Barely growing louder as his brother’s voice crescendos on the final note. The last chord strummed and everything fading into silence. 

Wilbur finished the song.

Tommy brings his palm up to the door. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could imagine him at home in his universe, coming to call Wilbur to dinner. He’d open the door with his stupid beanie and overworn yellow sweater, and try to hide the growing mess of notebook paper littering his room. 

Tommy sucked in a deep breath and made a fist against the door. Raising his hand he lightly knocked, allowing his hand to fall to his side. 

Through the door, he could hear frantic rustling as Wilbur made his way to the door. Tommy stepped back as the door creaked open.

“What do you want, prick?”

Well, that was rude. Tommy scowled about to argue back. He caught himself, though, he was here for a reason.

Wilbur leaned against the door frame staring down at Tommy. He had a smug smirk on his face seeing his little brother’s annoyed scowl. 

God, Tommy wanted to beat the shit out of him sometimes.

Later.

“I need you to help me sneak into Dad’s office.”

For a moment, Wilbur’s eyebrows rose before he gave Tommy a cheeky smile, “I’m in.”

-

When Wilbur opened the door to invite Tommy in, the first thing he noticed was the size of the room itself. Tommy assumed they could fit a replica of the Camarvan within the room itself and still be able to keep the original furniture in place.

The walls were the same icy blue as the rest of the castle, and, just like the room Tommy woke up in, it had a small balcony to the right of the bed. He could imagine Wilbur standing there counting the stars.

It was something Wilbur always used to do with him back home. They’d sneak out through the back door after Phil and Techno had gone to sleep and lie in the field. 

Wilbur would raise his hand to the sky and trace the stars on his fingertips. Usually, they’d test to see who could name the most, but sometimes Tommy would lie there drifting off as Wilbur softly counted each star under his breath. 

Would the stars here still be the same ones he used to count?

Wilbur climbed upon his bed and crossed his legs, patting a spot next to him. The bed was clean save for the multiple books scattered around the comforter with a single quill on a nightstand.

Tommy smiled softly before setting himself on the bed pushing the books to the edge. As soon as he settled, Wilbur leaned forward with a sly smile. 

“So, what’s the plan?”

Tommy hadn’t really considered that part yet. He didn’t even know where Phil’s office was, let alone how to get in. “Well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “I need to get inside Dad’s office, and I need your help to do that.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “You’re lucky I already know what to do.” Wilbur leaned over to the nightstand and pulled out an old sheet of parchment. Rolling it out on the bed, Tommy realized it was a map of the castle with dots and lines drawn on it, “This is a map of all the guard outposts and patrols.”

Wilbur pointed to a spot at the end of a hallway, “Dad’s office has two guards stationed there at all times,” he moved his hand to the adjacent hallways, “and the closest patrol comes through here about once every two hours.”

Tommy shook his head, “What does all that mean for us, though?”

“It means,” Wilbur grinned, “that this will be easy as hell.”

-

After Wilbur had spent over half an hour going over the plan with Tommy and then going over it a second time as Tommy “just wanted to make sure he understood,” they made their way to the hallway outside their Dad’s office.

“You remember the plan, correct?” Wilbur whispered.

Tommy groaned rolling his eyes, “Yes, Wilbur.”

The plan was simple. Tommy would stay out of sight while Wilbur approached the guards posted outside Phil’s office. Wilbur would claim that he noticed something suspicious from his balcony and lead them away. Tommy would take the opportunity to get inside the office and find out what Phil was hiding from them.

Wilbur shoved Tommy before ruffling his hair, “Whatever you say,” he peeked around the corner, “I’m gonna go ahead. If anything goes wrong, just use your comm.”

Tommy considered telling Wilbur that his comm was currently in the hands of some random village boy, but elected to just nod instead.

Wilbur flashed one final smile before his face morphed into one of pure panic. He took off down the corridor with a cry of, “Guards!”

Tommy peeked his head around the corner trying to stay out of sight. He was currently hidden behind one of the large pots containing what he assumed to be some kind of shrub. The leaves scratched at his arm but Tommy ignored it.

The guards at the door stood straighter as the Prince approached them. Wilbur was wildly waving his hands around, and Tommy thought he saw a couple of fake tears sliding down his brother’s cheeks.

Damn, he was really going for it.

“Please help!” Wilbur pleaded, “I saw something! There’s something outside my balcony.”

One of the guards tried to placate his brother but Wilbur just shook it off with a louder cry of “Oh god! They’re going to kill me.”

Tommy had to stop himself from giggling. The poor guards looked absolutely mortified. His brother really was not going to let them get away from this one. His brother erupted into a louder sob curling in on himself. 

The other guard stepped forward, “What can we do to help, Your Highness?”

Wilbur calmed down somewhat and softly pleaded, grabbing one of the guard's shoulders, “Please. You need to come to my balcony. There is someone. I think they’re trying to kill me!”

The words must have struck a chord in the guards as they both immediately looked between each other frantically. 

The guard turned back to his brother, “Lead the way, Your Highness”

“Thank you!” Wilbur’s face morphed into relief as he took off down the hallway, the guards following close behind him asking him various questions about what he saw.

Tommy waited until the sound of their footsteps faded in the distance before he sprinted to the door. He tore the door open before quickly slamming it shut behind him, leaning against it and taking deep breaths.

He made it.

Tommy took a moment to calm down before he pulled himself off the door. Finally looking around his Dad’s office, he was underwhelmed.

It was smaller than he had expected, certainly smaller than their bedrooms. It wasn’t cramped though. It felt cosy. The back wall of the room had a large window which would probably typically provide light for the desk that lay in front of it.

It was dark now, so the room was lit with an array of candles scattered throughout the room. 

Definitely cosy.

There were three chairs in front of the desk made of different colour fabric: gold, blue, and red. They must have been for his brothers. 

Of course, Techno would want a fucking gold chair.

Tommy quickly moved around the chairs. He wasn’t here to worry about dumb chairs, he needed information. Making his way behind the desk, Tommy found the desk slightly cluttered with an array of trinkets and parchment.

This was gonna take a while.

There were a bunch of useless notes scattered about. Reminders of schedules, a list of things to do, a note of what Wilbur and Techno wanted for their birthdays that year (new guitar strings and gold earrings), and random doodles obviously done during a very boring meeting.

Tommy collected the notes and shuffled them to one side of the desk. They weren’t really much use to him. There still was a large pile of documents on the desk that needed to be sorted.

Tommy grabbed the first one and began skimming through the letters and documents left.

After what seemed like an eternity of going through every document left on the desk, carefully scanning every word for any sign of trouble, Tommy threw the last page down on the desk with an annoyed sigh.

Useless.

All of it was useless. Trade agreements, reports for production, guard lists, orders for deliveries to the kingdom. None of it told Tommy anything of what Phil was hiding. It was all just normal kingdom garbage. 

Sighing, Tommy gave up on the stuff on the desk. It was stupid of him to believe that Phil would leave something serious lying out anyways. He moved onto the drawers.

Tommy pulled open the top drawer and peered in. 

More papers.

However, these weren’t just any reports or documents, they were probably more important to Phil than any of that. It was why they were kept in the top drawer in the first place. Always close in reach.

They were children’s drawings.  

Tommy reached down and gently pulled the first one from the stack. It was a rough drawing of the castle scribbled in with crayons. Flying over the castle was a giant black dragon breathing purple fire. 

It would be a pretty grim image if not for the slightly disproportionate drawing of his father wielding a sword in the sky. Across the bottom of the page in blocky messy letters are the words: Hero Dadza

Tommy smiled and flipped the page over to see inked cursive writing on the back.

6 Year Old Wilbur’s Masterpiece. Painted after Techno read the History of the Antarctic Empire all by himself!

Tommy shuffled through the rest of the drawings. There were a lot of random drawings of trees, the ocean, random knights with swords, among other various scribbles usually annotated with some note describing which of his brothers drew it and a small anecdote about the drawing itself.

Then Tommy reached the final drawing in the drawer. It was more recent than the other drawings in the pile. It was a simple drawing of 4 stick people holding hands.

The first two were roughly the same height. One had short brown spirals for hair and large round glasses over his eyes. The other had long pink lines for hair with golden spikes on his head which Tommy guessed was supposed to be his crown.

Next to Techno and Wilbur was what Tommy supposed were Phil and him. His dad had blonde hair and two black circles by his shoulders (were those supposed to be his wings?). Next to his dad was the tiniest stick figure with blonde hair.

All of them had smiles drawn on their faces, as they stood under a blue sky in a scribbled field of colourful flowers. In the sky, in childish writing is the word “Family,” with small hearts drawn around it.

It’s so cheesy it makes Tommy feel sick. Turning over the page, Tommy sees the same elegant cursive annotation.

5 Year Old Tommy’s first family portrait. Delivered to us by the big man himself after he got new crayons for his birthday. I insisted on framing it in the office, but the boys protested. 

Tommy carefully set the drawing back in the drawer and closed it quietly. He had to sit still for a moment, and process it all. Phil really did love his family in this universe. 

It stung a little more than he cared to admit. Maybe in another life, Tommy could see the drawing and roll his eyes in fond annoyance as he went on with his attempt to prank his dad. 

Maybe he wouldn’t have to bite down the small part of himself that told him that it didn’t have to be in another life if he just stayed here.

He could just stay here.

Tommy shook himself once more and moved onto the next drawer. He opened it up only to find a load of trinkets and extra supplies. He noticed a Yo-Yo toy probably left by Wilbur, some extra quills and ink pots, and even some gold lockets probably gifted by Techno. 

Tommy closed it with a groan. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Who knew when Phil would be back from wherever the hell he was. There was one more drawer on the desk, but Tommy noticed it was locked and needed a key to be opened. 

It was likely that Phil took the key with him, and Tommy should just give up. Groaning, he fell back into the large seat behind him. Tommy rubbed his face in annoyance. 

He looked out at the desk in frustration. He’d already searched all the existing drawers and shuffled through the stacks of papers. All that was left on the desktop was the ink pot, a quill, and a small pot of lilies.

Wait.

Tommy shot up and reached for the pot. Turning it over, immediately confirmed his suspicion. There was a small key taped to the bottom of it. Tommy ripped the key off the pot and placed it back on the desk.

Holy shit.  

Tommy crouched down and shoved the key in the final drawer. Twisting it he heard a small click as the lock unlatched. Tommy hurriedly pulled open the drawer to find another stack of papers.

However, Tommy didn’t have to look far. On top of the stack laid a pristine envelope. 

Bingo.

Tommy reached with gentle hands and removed the envelope from the stack. The envelope had remnants of the broken red wax seal. There was no address on the envelope itself.

Weird.

Tommy unfolded the letter and began to read.

King Philza,

You may not know me, but I know you. I know there are two things you wish to protect most in the world. Your family, and The End.

However, you cannot protect these things for long.

Do not fret. I do not wish to harm your children. Yet.

I seek access to the End. The dimension you have wrongfully forbidden from the common people to keep such power to yourself.

I know you, though. You won’t submit to a simple commoner’s demand. Thus, I offer this. 

By the time this letter has been delivered to you, the sands of time have already begun sifting through the hourglass.

You have one week, King Philza, to open the gates to the Stronghold before I make a move of my own.

Your sons’ lives will be a small payment for the suffering you have caused me. I assure you, I won’t target your successor first, I am no monster. 

It will be the blood of your youngest on your hands.

Act wisely,

:)

Chapter Text

As soon as the door shut behind Techno and Phil, Tommy flung himself to the nearest window. 

There were four trespassers standing outside the cabin. The man at the front with a beanie and an axe thrown over his shoulder, who Tommy assumed to be their leader, was flanked by three hybrids.

The first was a fox hybrid wearing a similar garb to their leader: a bloodied apron thrown over casual clothing. Instead of holding his axe over his shoulder, he wielded it in front of him with a concentrated look.

The second was what Tommy assumed to be an enderman hybrid, judging by his height. The boy easily towered over the rest, but he looked the most uncomfortable of the bunch. He wore a simple suit and didn’t even carry a weapon, instead clutching a worn leather book in his arms as he stared warily towards the house.

Tommy almost felt bad for the poor guy. Hopefully, Techno and Phil wouldn’t be too rough.

Finally, there was the smallest member of their army. It was a boy who couldn’t have been much older than Tommy himself. He appeared to be some sort of hybrid if the small horns peeking out from his brown hair were any indication. He also wore the same bloodied apron as his leader over a pristine suit.

Ghostbur did say they were part of a cabinet.

“What are you doing here, Quackity?”

Techno and Phil stepped down into the snow in sync. The two stood together as if they’d already rehearsed this scene once before. His dad already had an arrow notched in his bow, his wings spread wide behind the two of them. 

His dad once told him it was a way for him to appear more dangerous to anyone who could threaten them. Tommy didn’t fully understand, there was no reason for his dad to need to appear dangerous. He was already dangerous enough. He was the Angel of Death for a reason. 

Techno held his axe to his side, but even Tommy could see the way his fingers gripped its handle tight.

Techno was nervous.

The man at the front of the group, Quackity, dropped the axe from his shoulder, “You know why we’re here, Techno.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Techno kept his face carefully blank.

The smallest boy stepped forward, “We’re here for justice Technoblade. You spawned withers in our nation, now you need to pay for your crimes.”

Withers? 

Tommy had only heard of the wither from the stories Techno would read him as a kid. A monster the likes of which nobody had seen, spawned by placing three skulls on the sand from the soul valleys of the nether. 

It was said to be able to cause wither poisoning without ever coming into contact with its victim.

Those stories always kept Tommy awake at night in fear.

And Techno had spawned multiple of them.

Techno and Phil hadn’t mentioned this when they told him the story. They hadn’t told him any of this. 

Techno said he had said his piece. Was that what he was talking about?

Tommy couldn’t stop himself from gripping the totem tighter in his hands. What more were they hiding from him? 

There was a small part in Tommy’s mind telling him to run as far as his legs could carry him. There was a part of him that was telling him he should be afraid, afraid of the strangers outside. Strangers who looked too similar to the very people he should be able to trust. That it was only a matter of time until he too was caught in the endless cycle of violence.

He probably already had been, judging by his scars.

However, the larger part of Tommy’s mind rejected that. He recognized the strangers. Recognized the flowing pink hair and inky wings. Even if things were slightly different with hair shorter than he remembered or wings with tattered feathers. 

They were still his family.

That was his family outside, and no matter what they’d done, he’d have to trust them. He’d have to believe that they wouldn’t hurt him because he was their family too.

Techno, outside, let his shoulders slump the slightest amount. “Listen I’ve gone into retirement,” he tilted his head and his ear twitched slightly, “The voices have been demanding blood, and I’ve denied them. I’ve fought back. Please don’t make us kill you. Please just leave.”

The butcher army looked amongst themselves for a second before Quackity stepped forward and raised his axe in front of him. “Techno, you are coming with us one way or another. Come peacefully, or we will be forced to kill you.” 

Techno glanced at Phil and they each gave the other a slight nod. “Alright then,” he shrugged as he and Phil pulled out three bottles from their belts. They raised them above their heads and shattered them against the ground simultaneously.  

The bottles hit the ground with a loud crash, the magic from them swirling around Techno and Phil. The gunpowder within the bottles reacted with the impact creating a large cloud of fog separating the two from the army. 

Phil immediately used this to his advantage as he began firing arrows through the fog at the shadows on the other side. A quiet yelp of pain was heard from the other side and Techno charged. 

He seemed to be going for the smallest boy, while Phil focused his attacks on the other two hybrids firing shots from afar instead of using the sword on his hip. He was trying to keep them at a distance to avoid having to fight close-range.

Techno reached the boy and was relentless in his attacks. The boy barely had time to get a hit in on his brother instead focusing on blocking the attacks.

The boy raised his axe above his head as he was knocked down. Techno took it to his advantage and began swinging his sword relentlessly down at the boy trapped on the snow.

The boy cried out with each resounding clash of metal against his axe, “Big Q, do something!” Techno raised his sword, “Big Q!”

“Technoblade, stop!”

Techno turned and found the man with his axe pressed to Carl’s throat. 

Tommy noticed the way Techno hesitated in that moment.

Techno loved that horse. On Tommy’s first day at the cabin, Techno had shown him all the ways of tending to the animals. When they’d reached Carl’s small stable at the front of the house, Techno had reached out to pet the horse with such tender care. He went over all the ways Carl needed to be tended to and warned Tommy that Carl needed to be cared for extra well.

Tommy had looked over at his brother still petting the horse with a fond look in his eyes and asked, “What’s so special about this one?”

Techno hadn’t even looked away from the horse as his ear twitched, “Chat loves him,” he hesitated as he brushed the horse’s mane gently, “and I’ve grown quite fond of him myself.”

Tommy always made sure to sneak Carl an extra treat at the end of the day after that. While it wasn’t a surprise to Tommy that Techno had grown fond of the horse, it was rare for his brother to vocalize such a thing openly. 

His brother cared for things deeply, but it was rare he ever spoke the words out loud. Always opting for gifts or even just general actions to convey his affection. It was shown in the gold earrings Techno gifted him back in his universe, the way he’d sit and listen to Wilbur’s songs as many times as his twin asked, the potato soup he’d make when one of them got sick.

The way he gave Tommy one of the rarest items in the world to keep him safe.

That was the scariest part of it all, though. His brother cared too deeply sometimes. When Techno cared for something, he’d do just about anything to protect it. 

Even if it meant risking himself in the process.

Tommy watched in horror as Techno’s ear twitched and his eyes shut in pain. He pushed through it and raised his sword once more in Quackity’s direction with a deadly look in his eyes, “You get away from that horse, Quackity.”

Tommy noticed how Phil hesitated as well, distracted with concern for Techno. It was a small mistake which gave the two hybrids the chance to reach him, pointing their weapons steadily at him.

“Drop your things Phil and Techno, or I’m going to kill this horse right in front of you.”

For a moment, time stood still.

Tommy could see Techno’s grip loosen on his axe, and Phil’s wings drop in resignation.

Tommy couldn’t watch this. He had to do something. Tommy turned from the window and rushed to the doorway, throwing on the spare red cape around his shoulders.

Tommy was doing up the clasp on the front when he felt Ghostbur pass behind him. “Where are you going?”

Tommy continued fiddling with the clasp, “I’m going to help Techno and Phil.”

“But Techno told me to make sure you stay inside! You can’t go out!”

Tommy let a mischievous smile grow on his face as he pushed open the door, “You gonna stop me then?”

Ghostbur let out a quiet yelp of “Wait!” as he reached out to grasp Tommy’s arm. It was no use as Tommy stepped through the cold brush of air into the Arctic.

The door shut behind him with a thud. Tommy assumed Ghostbur was sitting on the other side panicking. He felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of him like that, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

He needed to help Phil and Techno.

Techno was right when he said Tommy couldn’t fight, but that didn’t mean he was useless. Techno claimed that the only universal language was violence. 

It was a good thing Tommy wasn’t from this universe then.

Tommy couldn’t handle this the way this universe expected him to, but that was alright, he’d do it his way if he had to. 

He’d seen his father do it a million times before, right before walking into the throne room for diplomatic meetings. 

Stand up straight, shoulders back, arms crossed behind the back, and speak as if you were born to be listened to.

Tommy morphed his expression into the calmest one he could muster. Even as he clutched the totem in trembling hands behind his back, he did not allow the fear to show on his face.

He could almost imagine the comforting weight of gold on his head as he took slow steps down to the snow. 

By this moment, the butcher army had become aware of his presence, along with Techno and Phil. He could hear various cries of his name from the members of the attackers, but Tommy paid them no mind.

He caught Techno’s eyes. His brother looked furious. It almost made Tommy hesitate.

He was going to be in so much trouble when this was all over.

“Tommy!” Quackity stepped forward, “What are you doing, man?”

“What am I doing?” Tommy steeled his face, “You have invaded our territory, threatened my family, and now threaten the life of an innocent horse. Leave peacefully at once, or we will be forced to defend ourselves.”

A ray of shock spread across the army’s face. Quackity and the fox-hybrid looked betrayed. The enderman hybrid only appeared confused. 

The smallest boy, however, looked at Tommy with a sombre expression. It caused him to pause for a moment. He allowed a flash of confusion to pass by his face before he carefully schooled his expression.

Later.

The butcher army had yet to move, though they had let their guard down in the confusion. If they weren’t going to leave with his words, he’d have to follow through on his promise.

Tommy looked to Phil. His father was staring at him in confusion but met his eyes nonetheless. Tommy glanced to Quackity and back to Phil raising his eyebrow the slightest amount.

God, he hoped that hadn’t changed across universes.

Recognition flashed on his father’s face. Without hesitating, Phil nocked an arrow in his bow and let it fly. The arrow hit its mark in Quackity’s shoulder, the man dropping his axe in favour of grasping for the wound. 

Tommy took a step forward and looked out upon the army once more.

“Leave,” he seethed.

As soon as the words left his lips, the butcher army fled. The fox-hybrid abandoned his axe in the snow in favour of stumbling off towards the woods. The enderman hybrid approached Quackity and helped guide him away from the cabin.

The smallest member of the group slowly walked backwards until he reached the edge of the woods. Tommy watched as the boy stood still, hesitating, as he stared back at Tommy.

Tommy was confused as to who the boy was. He knew he was a part of the cabinet for L’manburg, but he couldn’t be sure what position he actually held. 

A call of “Tubbo!” came from the woods.

Tubbo gave Tommy one last glance before disappearing into the tree line.

Tommy unconsciously raised his hand to his chest feeling the cool metal under his clothes.

Your Tubbo.

It was him.

When Techno and Phil were sure the butcher army had fled, they made their way to the door. Techno grabbed Tommy’s shoulder along the way, pulling him from his daze and into the cabin.

As soon as they entered, Ghostbur was in front of them waving his hands frantically in front of him. 

“Oh, Techno! I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop him, and I didn’t know if I should go out because you told us not to. I’m sorry!”

Techno shook his head, “It’s alright, Ghostbur.”

“Yeah, everything worked out just fine,” Phil stepped forward shaking the snow from his wings.

Ghostbur smiled warmly and began to explain how excited he was that L’manburg came to visit and how they should all go visit sometime soon.

Tommy tuned out the noise as he stared through the window. He could still see the bloodstain from Quackity’s wound staining the pristine white snow. 

He still didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand anything about this world he was in. Techno and Phil didn’t tell him much of anything. They wouldn’t tell him anything.

Tommy needed answers, and fast.

He needed to talk to Ghostbur.

-

The next morning, as Tommy was preparing for his morning chores, he found Ghostbur in the kitchen with Phil discussing breakfast.

“We should start having family meals again! I could make pancakes!”

Phil chuckled as he stared down at the eggs in the pan, “Sure, Ghostbur.”

“Oh!” he beamed, “What if we went and picked berries in the forest for some jam?”

“That sounds lovely. I’ll be sure to tell Techno about that whenever he wakes up.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy stepped forward, “Want to help me with feeding the dogs?”

Phil gave Tommy a suspicious glance, but Ghostbur paid it no mind as he nodded vigorously, “I would love to!”

Tommy nodded his head to the door and Ghostbur quickly followed. Ghostbur gave a cheerful call of “Goodbye, Dad!” as they exited the cabin and Tommy threw a small wave over his shoulder as well.

As they trudged through the snow towards the dog house, Tommy glanced over at Ghostbur. The spirit wore nothing but a yellow sweater and a beanie to protect him from the Arctic winds.

Ghostbur seemed mostly unaffected, though. Which was strange, to say the least. Wilbur and Techno were born of the nether and weren’t used to the cold. Tommy remembers the two always having to wear extra layers when they would play which he would relentlessly tease them for. Now, Ghostbur seemed perfectly fine in the chilled weather. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Tommy asked.

“Nope!” he chirped, “Being dead means I don’t feel cold, or hot, or anything at all!”

It was disturbing how easily Ghostbur could say stuff like that. It was like nothing bugged him, almost like he was happy to be dead. Everything felt hollow around the ghost of his brother like he wasn’t even there at all.

Ghostbur looked just like Wilbur, besides the obvious differences. His eyes crinkled the same way when he smiled, he tilted his head to the left whenever he needed to think. Tommy even noticed him fidgeting with the sleeves on his sweater throughout the day.

But Ghostbur wasn’t Wilbur. He didn’t ruffle Tommy’s hair when he floated past. Instead of one of his many notebooks full of lyrics and ideas, he carried blue dye he claimed was able to cure sadness. 

Ghostbur didn’t feel sad though. No matter the occasion, no matter what occurred around him, it was like he wasn’t there at all. It was like he forgot about it entirely, the memories dripping through his fingers staining the world blue around him as he moved on untouched.

Maybe the dye worked after all. It just left everyone else sad in his place.

Tommy remained silent the rest of the walk as Ghostbur hummed an unfamiliar tune. Tommy reached the gate and slowly undid the latch for the dog house. He hurried inside, closing it back up before any dogs could escape.

That’d happened on his first day feeding them, luckily Techno’s dogs were well trained and didn’t go far, instead piling on top of him and smothering him in their fur.

He had to admit, it was one of the best days of his life.

Even still, the dogs rushed to greet him as he stepped inside, jumping up for pets as he waded his way through the mass of fur. 

Ghostbur easily floated over the gate, giggling as all the dogs tried to jump on him yet landed back on the floor. They looked back up at the spirit with a betrayed look on their tiny faces.

“They’re so cute!” Ghostbur cooed.

Tommy gave him a small smile, “Yeah, but they’re little menaces when they’re hungry.” He reached the back of the dog house and climbed the ladder to the second floor. “Speaking of,” he reached for the large pile of dog food Techno had left and begun pouring it down the various tubes which led to the bowls at the bottom.

Phil had apparently come up with the system after growing tired of almost being smothered when he had to feed the dogs. Techno said that he’d woken up one morning to find Phil setting up the finishing touches. Tommy had to admit, it worked really well, and it ensured that none of the dogs were left hungry.

The dogs were currently chowing down on the kibble at their respective bowls. Ghostbur stood at the gate watching the scene with delight. Tommy hopped down the ladder quickly and sat himself down on the hay covered floor. One of the dogs must have already finished its breakfast and laid its head down in Tommy’s lap.

Tommy pet the dog absentmindedly as he looked at his brother, “Ghostbur.” The ghost’s head shot towards him and Tommy continued, “Can I ask you some questions?”

Ghostbur nodded, “Of course, Tommy!” He floated closer to Tommy and lowered himself to the ground. “What would you like to know?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me about what happened before I came here, with your Tommy, I mean.”

Phil and Techno had explained the situation to Ghostbur the night before. Tommy wasn’t sure Ghostbur fully understood the whole picture, but he knew enough. 

“Sorry, Tommy, but I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask,” Ghostbur gave Tommy an apologetic smile, “I don’t have the best memory for this kind of thing. Why don’t you ask D ad or Techno?”

Tommy sighed, “I already have, and they didn’t tell me anything useful.”

“Well, I’m still not sure I am the best option,” Ghostbur doubted.

Tommy let his fingers curl into the fur beneath him as he pleaded, “Please, Wilbur. Anything you can tell me is good enough. I just need to know.”

Ghostbur’s face morphed into one of shock before he quickly smiled back at Tommy, “Of course, Tommy. Where should I start?”

“The beginning.”

“Okay,” Ghostbur nodded, “Well, you and I left home the week after your 15th birthday. You’d gotten a letter inviting you to come live in the DreamSMP. You were so excited to go, but Dad strictly forbade it.

“I remember how mad you were. You stomped out of the house in a fit and didn’t return until sunset,” Ghostbur chuckled fondly, “Wilbur felt really bad that you couldn’t go, so I talked to Dad and offered to go with you. He agreed, and next week we were on the next ship to the SMP.”

“How did Dad or Techno react to us leaving?” Tommy asked.

“Dad seemed alright. He was a nervous wreck the week before we left, though.”

Tommy raised a brow, “Oh?”

“Yeah!” Ghostbur laughed, “I remember how he carried a notebook around the house writing down every piece of advice he could think of or small reminders that we could possibly need. He gave it to me before we left,” he paused, “I wonder what happened to it.”

It was nice to hear that this version of his father wasn’t always so distant. He still was his dad. Tommy remembered him joking to them when they were kids how he was sure he got “bird instincts” when he got back from the End.

His dad would pull them all into a tight hug and whisper that he needed to make sure his baby birds were safe in the nest. They were all embarrassed by it at the time, but Phil would just laugh and hold them closer all the same.

He guessed it made sense that this Phil also felt that pull to make sure his kids were safe, at least at one point.

He wondered what happened to it.

“What happened after we got to the SMP?”

Ghostbur smiled, “We started L’manburg!”

Tommy had heard the name before, but still asked, “What’s that?”

He could see the way the smile dropped off Wilbur’s face for a beat before quickly returning, “It’s L’manburg. Home! You and I created it together to get away from Dream.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Why did we need to get away from him?” Maybe he could finally get an answer as to what the hell was going on, and why the name Dream seemed to be tied to it all.

“For freedom of course!” Ghostbur cheered, “We emancipated ourselves from the DreamSMP, and Dream didn’t approve. That’s why we started the revolution!”

Tommy felt the scars on his chest itch. Techno mentioned the revolution to him, but that was before the concept of violence had truly set itself in Tommy’s brain. He hadn’t faced the fact that a revolution was still a war, one where people were hurt, people were killed.

“Is that how Tommy lost his lives?” he whispered.

“What?” Ghostbur stared back in confusion.

“Tommy only has one life. Did he lose his other two in the revolution?”

“I don’t remember anyone dying during the revolution,” Ghostbur shook his head, “all I remember is you winning the war for us.”

“How did I do that?”

Ghostbur shrugged, “I’m not entirely sure. I know Dream was involved somehow,” he paused for a moment smiling, “I also know that Wilbur was very proud of you. He was very happy that day.”

The memory should’ve made Tommy feel comforted to know Wilbur was proud of him, but Tommy couldn’t help but feel unsettled by it all. Wilbur was gone, and Tommy was down two lives. It wasn’t necessarily a situation which called for reminiscing. 

“What happened after that?”

“Well, that’s when it gets a little fuzzy. I know I became President and you, Vice President, but there’s a lot of blank space after the war,” Ghostbur paused brows furrowed before his eyes lit up with recognition, “Oh. There was the election!”

“An election?” Tommy questioned.

“Yeah! We won the election! Though, I don’t remember too well what happened after. Sorry.”

Tommy shook his head, “Wait, that can’t be right. Phil and Techno said we lost the election. That’s why Techno came in the first place, to help you guys out after you lost the election.”

It didn’t make sense. Did Phil and Techno lie? No that didn’t make sense either. None of the story made sense.

Ghostbur shook his head vehemently, “No. I’m sure we won the election,” he reached into the small pack at his hip and brought out the dye. Blue dripped through his fingers as he stared blankly at the floor. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m sorry.”

Tommy wished he could comfort the ghost, but he knew any attempt would be futile, so he allowed the dye to stain the floor beneath them.

“It’s alright, Ghostbur. Just tell me the rest of what you know.”

“It’s all blurry after that.” Ghostbur hummed in concentration for a moment. “Oh! I remember Dad!”

Now this could be useful. Techno and Phil said that his dad arrived at the final war right when things went south, but didn’t tell him much more than that. Maybe this would be his moment to finally get an answer.

What the hell happened on the 16th of November?

“What happened when Dad arrived?” Tommy quickly asked. 

Ghostbur beamed, “He killed me!”

Tommy felt the world shift beneath him. He couldn’t have heard that right. He quickly croaked out a “What?” as he stared at the ghost in disbelief.

All the blue had evaporated from Ghostbur’s fingers as clapped his hands together excitedly, “Yeah, I don’t remember much, but I do remember Phil stabbing me. That’s how I came to be!”

Tommy had to place his hand down on the floor to steady himself. Phil stabbed Wilbur. Phil killed Wilbur. His dad had killed his brother. Tommy stared down at the floor as his fingers twisted in the puddle of blue.

He raised his hand staring at his stained palm. Maybe Ghostbur was right, the dye did cure sadness. 

Tommy didn’t feel sad at all. The blue on his palm dripped back to the floor and Tommy let it. Tommy didn’t need it. Tommy wasn’t sad. 

Tommy stood up, the dog in his lap flopping to the side and giving a small bark of betrayal. Tommy paid it no mind as he marched towards the entrance of the dog house.

Tommy could hear Ghostbur’s shouts behind him, but paid them no mind, pushing through the swarm of dogs in front of him.

Ghostbur didn’t give up though and floated in front of Tommy at the main gate. He held his hands out to stop Tommy. “Tommy! Hey! I’m sorry for upsetting you. Please come sit back down. We can sit with the dogs again?”

Tommy didn’t even bother looking Ghostbur in the eyes as stepped straight through the spirit and the gate. A rush of cold air passed through him and he couldn’t suppress the small shiver that came over him. 

Tommy grunted and pulled the red cloak closer around him, clutching it tighter in his fists. He hated that stupid cloak. Wanted to rub his blue-stained hands over it furiously in the hopes that he could ever forget that it was a different colour. In the hopes that he could ever forget such a version of his brother’s cloak even existed.

Tommy used to love the colour red. It reminded him of the poppies that sprouted up in the snow. A fragile little thing, bold and beautiful, surviving against all odds in a world not built for them.

His dad used to say Tommy reminded him of poppies. A small red bundle lying in the snow, so fragile, yet so bold. He survived against all odds.

There were no poppies outside Techno’s base. Only remnants of blood past spilt staining the billows of white that stretched for miles.

Was Wilbur’s blood the same shade?

Tommy wondered if Phil looked at the red surrounding them and was reminded of Wilbur’s blood dripping from his blade. Wondered if Phil watched Ghostbur’s blue drip to the floor between his fingers and felt relieved that it wasn’t red. He wondered if the man hated red just as much as he did.

How could he? How could the both of them keep this from him? How could they act like this was normal? How could they keep going knowing their brother, their son was dead, and one of them was the cause?

Tommy reached the cabin and climbed the stairs two at a time, pulling himself up to the door as he slammed it open. Tommy ran past the kitchen where a plate had been left out for his breakfast.

Wilbur wouldn’t get to eat breakfast that morning.

Tommy stormed into the living room where Phil and Techno were lounging on their respective chairs. 

“You killed him!”

Phil and Techno both jumped, looking at Tommy.

Phil sighed and stood up slowly as if dealing with a wild animal, “Tommy-“

Tommy didn’t let him finish, “You killed my brother!” He screamed, “How could you?”

Phil jerked back in shock and Techno stood up as well. “I don’t think you understand, Tommy.”

“No,” Tommy shook his head, “I don’t think you understand!” He turned back to Phil, “How could you do that? He’s your son! What is wrong with you?”

“Tommy,” Phil sighed, “Wilbur was my son, but-“

“Wilbur is your son,” he seethed.

“Wilbur is my son, but I did what I had to. You really don’t understand the situation.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air exasperated, “Of course I don’t understand the situation. You didn’t tell me the situation. You lied!”

Techno stepped forward, “We didn’t lie Tommy. Phil just thought it was best not to overwhelm you with unnecessary details,”

“Unnecessary details like my own father killing my brother?” Tommy scoffed, “Did your Tommy even know about this?”

“He did,” Phil nodded, “In fact, he was there.”

Tommy had to take a step back at the admission. He was there? Did he watch his father kill his own brother? Was this Tommy okay with that? 

Phil’s eyes softened as he stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Tommy, you need to understand. Your brother wasn’t the same person you know when I killed him. Things were,” he hesitated, “complicated at the time.”

“Complicated enough that you would raise your own blade against your son?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Phil dropped the hand from Tommy’s shoulder, “as I said, I did what I had to do.”

Tommy glared at his father, “Was it really what you had to do? You had to kill your own son. Can you not see how insane that is?”

Phil sighed once more, as Techno spit out, “Tommy, you really don’t understand what you’re talking about, here.”

“Then fucking explain it to me! Explain how my own father could kill his own son!”

“Because he asked me to, Tommy!” Phil shouted, “Wilbur asked me to do it, and I had no other choice.”

Tommy felt a chill cross over him. Wilbur asked for Phil to kill him, and Phil did. His brother’s blood coated his father’s hands and they treated it like it was normal. 

It wasn’t normal, though. Fathers don’t kill their own sons at their request, brothers don’t get exiled while the rest stand by, and families don’t move on like everything is normal when a piece of them is lost.

“You still don’t care, though.” Tommy accused, “Wilbur’s dead, and you still don’t care. Tommy got exiled and you still don’t care. You act like this is normal,”

“Tommy,” Techno growled, “Drop it.”

Tommy snapped, “No! Even if what you said is true, how could you? How could you go on like everything is fine? What is wrong with the two of you? Don’t you feel any shame?”

Techno stepped forward as if to reprimand Tommy once more, but Phil cut him off, “I do feel guilt, Tommy! I feel guilty every day. Do you think I wouldn’t? Wilbur is my son, and I hate myself every day for what happened.”

Techno placed a comforting hand on their dad’s shoulder, “Dad,” he calmly started but was cut off by Phil once more.

“I hate myself for what happened, and I didn’t go on like everything was fine. I spent weeks searching for a way to bring Wilbur back. I prepared for weeks to bring him back,”

“So why haven’t you?” Tommy stressed, “You’ve had every opportunity to, and you haven’t brought him back. Why?”

“Dream explicitly forbade it.”

Dream

Everything came back to one name. An invitation, a revolution, an exile, and now his brother’s death. Dream was always there. Dream was always the reason. Dream was always the one pulling the strings.

It was like his family had been strung up like puppets on a string being tossed around by one puppet master. Forced along through each new form of suffering like some sick show. 

Yet, his family didn’t seem to notice. They were so caught up in this twisted world and its twisted ways that they couldn’t see the reason behind it all. 

Tommy scrunched his fists and groaned in frustration, “Fuck Dream!”

“Tommy,” Techno warned.

“No!” Tommy rejected, “Why does Dream have all the power? Why does he get to say if my brother can’t come back? Why are you listening to him?”

“He’s the leader of the SMP,” Phil explained.

“Who cares? We’re family! Shouldn’t that matter more? He hurt us! He is hurting us! Can’t you see that?” Tommy cried.

Phil stepped forward to placate Tommy, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “Tommy,” he urged, “this is just the way things are.”

Tommy understood that his dad was trying to comfort him. He knew that. He could feel the way he gently rubbed at the boy’s shoulders and the soft regretful look in his eyes.

There was a small part of Tommy that wanted to lean into the touch, to give in, and allow himself to just let it all go. A part of him whispered that maybe this was his reality, and he should learn to find what little comfort he can instead of pushing against the grain.

He was really tired. Maybe it would be better to just rest. 

Tommy shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. None of this was right. How could they not see that? 

Tommy doubled down, “How could things get this bad, though? How could it get so bad that you would be okay losing your wings?” he pushed a finger into Phil’s chest, “How could it get so bad that Techno spawned withers?” Tommy pushed Phil back and stepped forward, “How could it get so bad that Wilbur-“

Before Tommy could reach Phil, there was the sharp sound of a sword being unsheathed and Tommy’s chest touched the end of it. Tommy turned to stare helplessly at his brother.

Tommy glanced down sadly at the sword and whispered, “How could it get so bad that I would find myself on the other end of my brother’s own blade?”

Techno had the thought to look somewhat guilty as he lowered his sword in shame, but Tommy was already out of the house before he could hear his brother’s soft call of his name.

Chapter Text

Tommy felt his knees hit the floor before he could stop it. The small letter floating to the ground next to his crumpled form.

Tommy dragged his fingers against the wood floor. 

He thought he was safe. He thought he could be safe.

There was a small part of Tommy that wanted to check once more, let his eyes scan over the symbol maybe a million more times just to make sure that what he saw was the truth. 

Yet, Tommy didn’t need to do that. He knew that. That symbol had been burned into his memory like a brand. A reminder that no matter how far he ran, how hard he tried, Dream always follows.

He remembered getting that letter in the mail all those years ago. He saw the green seal on the front and tore open the letter like his life depended on it. His eyes scanning the page, taking in every word, and beaming at the small smile penned at the bottom of the page.

God, how naive he had been.  

That mocking smile followed him everywhere after he and Wilbur arrived. It stared into him from a tower with a dull melody echoing around them, across a wooden path as he felt an arrow imbed itself into his chest, in front of him with a sword pressed to his chest while his brother carried an armful of explosives in the background, and over a defeated Tommy with ears still ringing miles away from home.

And now it was here.

Tommy wanted to scream, wanted to claw at the floor until his fingers bled, wanted to rip that letter to shreds and forget it ever existed. Most of all, though, Tommy wanted to cry.

So he did.

Tommy let out a heartbreaking cry as he curled closer into the floor. His body shook with the harsh sobs that fell from his lips as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together. Trying not to completely break at the revelation.

He wasn’t safe here.

He wasn’t safe anywhere.

Dream was going to kill him. He couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t fight it. 

For a small moment, the world flashed around him and he was back in exile. Dirt beneath his fingers and cold metal pressed to the skin of his neck.

He could hear Dream’s chilling voice ordering him to “Dig.”

So he did.

Tommy scraped his fingers against the dirt, rushing to make a hole big enough to satisfy Dream. Not wanting the metal to dig further into his skin, sever the precious artery he knew lay just beneath a fragile layer of skin. 

Yet, the dirt beneath his fingers didn’t budge, didn’t move no matter how hard he clawed. Tommy cried as he dug and dug but reached nothing but endless topsoil. 

Dream was going to kill him.

Tommy wasn’t sure he could keep going. Wasn’t sure he cared. Did it matter? Tommy collapsed to the side, exhausted. He awaited the inevitable swing of Dream’s axe as he turned his head for the sky.

Maybe he could count the stars one last time.

But he didn’t see stars, only the ornate wooden ceiling of the office. Tommy’s head lolled back and he let out a quiet sigh touching the skin of his neck.

Oh.

He felt his pulse beat under his fingertips. He was safe. He wasn’t in exile. Dream wasn’t there. He was alive. Tommy felt the small shake of his hands settle as he pushed his hands against the floor, sitting up. 

His hands fell to the small scratches against the wood. Tommy grimaced. He didn’t mean to damage it. A small part of his mind rose up in a panic that he was going to be in trouble, but Tommy quickly pushed it back.

He needed to pull himself together. It wasn’t just his life on the line here. It was Techno’s life. It was Wilbur’s life. It was for the greater good of the Antarctic Empire as a whole. Dream couldn’t break his family apart once more, and he certainly couldn’t reach the Stronghold.

Tommy wiped his hands on his pants and stood up, grabbing the letter in his clenched hands. His eyes scanned over the paper once more. It seemed like Dream had delivered this somehow the day before Tommy arrived if what Phil said meant anything. Which meant that he only had 6 days before Dream came to kill him. 

It was better than 48 hours.

Tommy glanced out the window of his dad’s office. The moon was high in the sky, the light pouring in and illuminating the dark room. 

Make that 5 days.

Tommy tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a quiet groan. This was just his luck, honestly. He really couldn’t go a single day without being pulled into some new issue. Tommy could already feel himself falling into the same habits he had back during the war.

His shoulders were tense, and he could feel his fingers twitching at his sides, searching for a weapon that wasn’t there. He needed a weapon if he was going to do any of this, but where could he even find one in the castle? Did this Tommy even know how to fight? Did any of his family? 

Too many questions raced through Tommy’s mind as he tried to sort through the list of things he needed to accomplish before it was too late. He needed a weapon but didn’t know where to get one. He needed to find out where Dream was hiding, but couldn’t leave the castle. He needed to prepare potions for when Dream arrived, but he couldn’t find a portal to the nether anywhere.

This was going to be difficult.

He was going to need someone to help him with most of the things on his list. He could ask Techno, but Techno would immediately demand that they tell Phil, or even worse he would just tell Phil himself. Wilbur was also an option, he was usually up to indulging Tommy in his crazy ideas, but stealing weapons and entering the nether probably would cross that line of “this is too dangerous” for his older brother to agree.

Then there was Phil. Tommy knew that Phil would know eventually, if Techno’s warning meant anything, but Tommy still wanted to keep his secret between Techno and him for as long as possible. 

As selfish as it sounded, Tommy wanted to keep his dad for as long as possible. This Phil looked at Tommy with such warm eyes. This Phil listened to him with open ears. This Phil kissed his head and would maybe even hug him, wings wrapping around him if he played his cards right. This Phil would be his dad, if only for 40 more hours.

Tommy couldn’t bear to let that go, couldn’t bear seeing that warmth drain from his father’s eyes and smile, see those wings droop in disappointment, so he would hold it close and cherish it while he could. He would handle the fallout when it came.

He ran his hand through his hair, tiredly. He really wanted to rest, but time was already ticking away, he needed to get to work. He’d probably work on getting an idea of the layout of the castle tonight, maybe he could find the way to the armoury or the healers. He could sleep when he got back to his world.

Tommy shuffled the papers on the desk back to their original messy state and closed the drawers. Placing the key back under the pot of lilies, Tommy surveyed the desk and nodded in satisfaction. Knowing Phil, he probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss, too busy adding more to the infinite mess of his desk.

With everything in order, Tommy gave one last glance to the office around him and headed for the door. He would probably need to find Wilbur, wherever he was and give him an update. Wilbur was probably stressing at the moment, Tommy had been in the office for a good 3 hours at this point. It wouldn’t be fair to leave his brother in the dark, or at least without knowing that Tommy “wasn’t able to find anything of importance, they’d just have to snoop somewhere else or wait for Dad to tell them.”

Tommy stepped around the desk, letter still in his hands. He was gonna have to hide it somewhere in his bedroom before he went to Wilbur, not wanting his older brother to worry. Before Tommy could reach the door, however, the door creaked open and Tommy rushed to stuff the letter in his back pocket.

He wasn’t sure the letter was fully secured, but thankfully it was mostly concealed by the blue cloak he wore. Tommy froze as he watched his father step through the door. He had his head down and his shoulders were hunched. He looked exhausted.

Not exhausted enough that he didn’t catch the sound of paper crinkling and shuffling in front of him. Phil’s wings immediately spread and he reached for the small dagger he kept on his hip. “Who’s-“ he began before meeting Tommy’s eyes and instantly softening, “Tommy?” he questioned quietly.

Tommy attempted an awkward smile as his father walked towards him. “What are you doing in here?” Phil asked. Tommy remained silent, unsure of what to say.

When Phil got close enough to see Tommy’s face in the dim moonlight, his face immediately morphed into one of concern as he quickly approached the boy. Phil’s hand immediately met Tommy’s cheek. For a quick moment, Tommy allowed himself to press against the touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of his father’s hand against his face. Phil’s thumb brushed beneath Tommy’s eye, “You’ve been crying,” he whispered.

Tommy cursed himself. He’d forgotten about that, so caught up in the need to plan, to fix things. He assumed that nobody would see him in this state, that he’d have time to collect himself in his room when he hid the letter.

Now, Phil was here after Tommy had snuck into his office. His priority should have been to be suspicious. He should be questioning what Tommy was doing, why he went against Phil’s orders to trust him. He didn’t seem to consider the implications of Tommy being in the office, though, his only concern being the half-dried tears staining his son’s face.

It made a lump form in Tommy’s throat as he met his father’s eyes. Phil stared at him with pure concern as he gently wiped at Tommy’s cheek, “What happened?” Tommy could only stare helplessly as his vision slowly became clouded with tears once more.

Tommy tried to bite back the tears, but Phil kept staring at him with those familiar eyes. He’d seen them when he’d scraped his knee as a kid, when he would crawl into his dad’s bed after a nightmare, when he and Wilbur were standing with their bags packed ready to leave for a new home.

He missed this. God, he missed this so much. 

He missed his dad so much. Tommy’s hand reached for Phil’s wrist pressing his hand tighter against Tommy’s cheek. He just needed some time. Just a little more time with this. Phil’s hand fell for only a moment, Tommy letting out a small choked protest, before the man pulled Tommy into his chest, wings wrapping securely around them.

Tommy’s sobs were quietly shushed by Phil as he slowly caressed the back of Tommy’s head. “What’s wrong, Tommy,” he whispered, trying to understand what had upset the boy so greatly. Tommy was typically the brightest of his son’s, never had he seen the boy so distraught, it worried him.

Tommy pushed his head more deeply into Phil’s chest. He so desperately wanted to spill it all to Phil, to tell him everything, but he couldn’t bear to let this go. If he told the truth, he’d have to let Phil go. He’d have to watch the man’s gaze turn cold, watch as he pulled away. 

Phil wouldn’t give up without knowing, though, and Tommy wasn’t sure he was prepared to lie either. Everything was wrong, and here his father was offering the chance to fix it, if only slightly, and who was Tommy to refuse. He could be selfish for just a moment longer.

“I don’t think I’m meant to be here,” he mumbled into his father’s robes. He knew the man heard him when he felt Phil stiffen above him. There were a few long seconds where Tommy was sure Phil was going to realize, was going to understand the true meaning beneath those words, but the man only pulled back and gave Tommy a sad smile.

Phil brought his hands to Tommy’s face and began wiping the newly formed tear stains once more, humming a small comforting tune. When Tommy’s face was dried of his tears and all that remained was a slightly confused expression on the boy’s face, Phil reached for Tommy’s hands and led him to the far corner of the room with the mirror.

Phil stepped behind Tommy and placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. Standing behind the boy, Phil gestured to the mirror in front of them, “What do you see in front of you?”

Tommy’s eyes lifted and met blue. A dim blue. Not the same bright icy blue that once looked upon the world with only youthful optimism, reflecting the light they had seen back onto the world. His counterpart should’ve still had these eyes, but Tommy only looked in the mirror and saw his own.

The entire reflection before him felt off-kilter and disturbing to look at. The body before him was not his own, did not carry the same scars, yet the boy before him was not the Prince everyone once knew. The boy before him held himself like he was ready for a war that would never come. Tommy didn’t recognize him at all.

“I don’t know,” Tommy mumbled sadly, “I don’t know what I see.”

He could see the slight slump of Phil’s shoulders before the man quickly resumed his original point. A small smile grew on Phil’s face as he gestured to the mirror before them, “Well, I know what I see,” he began.

Tommy’s eyes met a different blue. A more calming, subdued blue, but blue nonetheless. A blue that looked into Tommy’s own with nothing but love as Phil continued, “I see Tommy.” 

He looked away from his father’s gaze uncertain.“I see Tommy,” Phil repeated, reaching up to his crown and removing it from its rightful place. Phil slowly lowered the crown until it laid softly on the top of Tommy’s head. “Prince of the Antarctic Empire.”

Phil’s wings spread as the words fell from his lips. The soft moonlight crested over the top of his wings, illuminating the crown upon Tommy’s head in a brilliant glow. Tommy stared upon his reflection, just a boy wearing his father’s crown. 

The weight of the crown felt heavy on Tommy’s skull settling within the strands of golden hair. Maybe the weight would have felt comforting, but Tommy could only barely suppress a shiver at the sight of it.

A crown of thorns slowly weaving its way into his hair, fixing itself to his very being. The crown whispered words that Tommy ached to hear. Promises of peace, of safety, of love if he just stayed.

He could stay.

He didn’t need to go back.

He should stay.

He didn’t want to go back.

He wanted to stay.

For a moment, Tommy entertained the thought. He raised his head, crown barely shifting as his eyes met blue. Not necessarily bright, but blue nonetheless. Eyes that could have the whole world at their fingertips, if he just stayed.

“More importantly,” The image was broken when Phil’s hands met Tommy’s shoulders and slowly turned him around. Phil looked down at Tommy with such warm eyes as he lovingly whispered, “I see Tommy, my son.” Phil pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before holding Tommy close careful not to jostle the crown that laid on the boy’s head.

Phil hummed above him, “You’re my son, Tommy. My blessing from the goddess, herself,” he rubbed a comforting hand on Tommy’s back, “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. You’re exactly who you’re meant to be. You’re Tommy. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Tommy didn’t need to see Phil’s eyes to know they were so blue. A deep blue ocean so full of love for his sons that you could drown in it. Love for a son which Tommy was not and could never be. He was foolish to think otherwise. Phil would always be his dad, but Tommy could never be his son.

Tommy pulled away from Phil’s embrace. Phil smiled down at him, but Tommy couldn’t meet his gaze. It wasn’t fair to let Phil believe he was saying these kind words to his son. Tommy’s shoulders scrunched up as he quietly admitted, “I’m not your son.”

Phil’s expression to one of concern as he carefully grasped Tommy’s face, lifting his eyes to meet Phil’s worried gaze. “What? Why would you say that? Of course, you're my son.” 

Carefully, Tommy grasped Phil’s wrist and removed his hand from Tommy’s cheek. He dropped Phil’s wrist before raising his head. Tommy stared into Phil’s confused and slightly hurt eyes before reiterating, “No, Phil. I’m not your son.”

The room was silent save for the soft thud of a crown hitting the floor.

-

Tommy found himself in the same room he awoke to this universe in that morning. He was awkwardly sitting on the bed, fiddling with his thumbs while Phil stood quietly in the corner of the room refusing to look at him.

He expected the reaction, but it still stung nonetheless. Phil had alerted the guard outside his office to summon Wil and Techno to Tommy’s room at once for an emergency family meeting.

Now, they waited for the two to arrive. Tommy had no idea where Techno was, but he could assume Wilbur had long since fallen asleep too impatient to wait for Tommy’s return. 

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Techno stiffly entered followed shortly behind by a yawning Wilbur already dressed in his silk pyjamas. Techno must’ve noticed Phil’s distant attitude and gave Tommy a worried glance.

Wilbur, on the other hand, looked rightfully annoyed. Wilbur tossed his head back exaggeratedly and groaned, “Are we here because you got caught by Dad? I was trying to sleep.”

Both Techno and Phil shot Tommy confused looks as Tommy rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t. Thanks for abandoning me, by the way, asshole.”

Wilbur’s eyes opened wide as he shot back, “I told you to message me through your comm if something went wrong! What happened to that part of the plan?”

“Well, I lost my comm, so it was a shitty plan to begin with.”

“How do you lose your comm?”

Tommy sent a glare Techno’s way as he opened his mouth, “Actually, he gave it to some kid in the village.”

Wilbur sent him an incredulous look, “Why would you just give your comm away? Don’t you know-“

Wilbur was interrupted by a large gust of wind that blew through the room. They all turned their heads to see their father standing with his wings spread and a stern look on his face. “That’s enough,” he turned to stare at Tommy and the twins followed the action as Tommy shrunk in his seat. “Tommy, would you mind explaining what the hell is going on?”

As Tommy stared at the mirage of faces before him, he hesitated. He’d already explained the situation to Techno who had taken it, mainly, in stride. Tommy kept most of the details out, only explaining what was strictly necessary.

He didn’t think he would be able to do the same with Phil and Wilbur. While Techno gave him a slightly sympathetic look, Phil and Wilbur were both doing that particular stance where they crossed their arms and raised their eyebrows skeptically. It made Tommy feel like he had just gotten in trouble, which to be fair, he probably would be in trouble once they knew.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Tommy begrudgingly repeated the phrase he had said too many times, “I’m not your Tommy.”

Techno didn’t even flinch and Phil only looked on expectantly, waiting for Tommy to continue. Wilbur, however, did not take the news lightly. “What do you mean you're not our Tommy? Who are you?”

“I am Tommy,” he admitted, “just not the one from your universe. We got,” he hesitated, not sure of how to explain something he wasn’t fully sure of himself, “swapped, I think.”

Phil frowned at the admission before he asked, “How did this happen? Did something happen that caused this?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy sighed, “I went to sleep in my universe and next thing I knew I woke up here.”

He could see when they finally began to process the information. Phil was staring at the ground with a troubled expression. Techno, although none of this was new to him, seemed to follow Phil as he stared down with furrowed brows. 

It was Wilbur who looked slightly hopeful as he hesitantly asked, “Well, do you have any idea how to fix it?”

Tommy sadly shook his head and watched as his family’s expressions morphed into something he could only describe as despondency. Tommy sat awkwardly to the side as he watched them silently grieve the loss of their brother and son.

A small part of him wondered if he should comfort them. Offer Wilbur a hug, maybe poke Techno’s buttons until he forgot about the problem entirely, or even crack a joke to get Phil to drop the serious look and wheeze out a strained laugh.

Though, he didn’t think it would be welcomed. The three seemed alright on their own as Wilbur leaned subtly into Techno’s shoulder and Techno looked to Phil for reassurance. Yeah, they could do this on their own.

Though, maybe a small part of Tommy wished they didn’t. He wished he could duck into Wilbur’s arms under the guise of helping him, or let Techno ruffle his hair as Tommy pestered him. Tommy wished he could go back and remain silent in Phil’s arms as the man spoke of his love for the wrong son.

That wasn’t fair to them, though, so now they were here. Eventually, the silence became unbearable and Wilbur lifted his head and quietly asked the question Tommy had been dreading to hear, “If you’re here, where’s our Tommy?”

“I’m not sure. He’s probably in my world if I had to guess,” Tommy shrugged.

He knew it was coming, but Tommy still grimaced as Techno wondered, “What is your world even like?”

The question caused each member of his family to turn their attention towards Tommy in anticipation. Tommy knew they were curious, but he didn’t know he could tell them the truth. What if their confusion and grief over losing their youngest turned to anger and resentment at the person who took him away from them? Would Tommy be able to take it, seeing them hate him all over again?

Tommy shook his head and quickly objected, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you.”

“How are we supposed to swap you back if we don’t even know where we’re sending you back to?” Wilbur questioned.

Tommy faltered, he didn’t know how he was going to work his way out of this one without giving away exactly what he feared they would know. He was trapped. If he remained silent, they would assume the worst. If he told them, they would know the worst. There was no way to win. 

Tommy was snapped out of his thoughts by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Techno’s eyes. “Kid, we’re not upset. We won’t be upset. We promise. We just need to know as much as possible so we can make sure that the both of you get home safe.”

He offered Tommy a small comforting smile, or as much of a smile as Techno could offer. It was more a slight upturn of his lips, but Tommy took it for what it was. A sign of reassurance. Tommy gave a slight nod in return and Techno returned the action standing back up and returning to Wilbur’s side. 

Guess he had no choice now.

Turning to stare once more at his family, he took Techno’s words for truth. Techno promised, and Tommy had no choice but to believe him. Biting back a sigh, Tommy warned, “I’m not sure my world is gonna live up to your expectations,”

“Tommy, it’s okay. Just tell us what you can,” Phil reassured.

And so he did.

He told them of growing up, not in a castle, but a simple house in a small prairie. He told them of gardening with Techno, flying with Phil, and playing pretend with Wilbur and Tubbo. He told them of a family so similar to this one but not the same.

Techno let out a small snort, “So that’s the kid you gave your comm to?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, smiling, “He’s my best friend. Dad never officially adopted him, but he was there nonetheless.”

“You said he was in this world as well?” At Tommy’s nod, Phil processed the words for a second before smiling, “We’ll have to do something about that.”

Tommy couldn’t help the bright smile that grew across his face. At least he could help this Tubbo find a home as well. “Later, though. Tell us more,” Phil prompted.

Tommy couldn’t stop the way his body stiffened as he continued. He spoke of a 15th birthday, and an important letter inviting him to a new land. He spoke of stomping out of the house in a fit and a kind brother offering him adventure. He spoke of a father fretting over their departure with a chuckling Techno standing over his shoulder.

He could see the way their shoulders loosened and reassured smiles bloomed on their faces. Wilbur elbowed Techno and whispered something to his twin which resulted in the two bursting into snickering laughter. Phil looked upon them with fond exasperation, chuckling silently to himself.

Tommy truly wished the peace could last, that he could end the chapter on a light note and shrug and say that the rest of the story was pretty boring. He wished he could tell them that his world was not a story at all, but rather just a life where he and his family lived the rest of their days in peace. Tommy’s life was a story though, a story of tragedy and loss. His life was a warning, a tale that eventually an estranged brother would recall to his sibling across the chasm of their world.

Tommy cleared his throat and didn’t give any warning as he continued hesitantly. He told them of arriving in a new land, of getting new discs and instantly fighting to keep them from Dream alongside Tubbo. He told them of Wilbur’s plan to create a nation where they could be free, of declarations of independence, of declarations of war. 

He ignored the looks of concern that grew between them, as he told them of fighting and survival with nothing but a small van to their names. He talked of being a right-hand man, of walking into battles. He talked about the walls and the man who built them. He talked about being led by that man into a small dark room where he pressed a button. He talked about the feeling of betrayal only countered by the feeling of a sword entering his back, the feeling of bleeding out in a cold dark room with the rest of his allies dead around him.

He could hear the three rouse to a chorus of gasps and protests, but Tommy pressed on. He spoke of TNT detonating beneath their feet and fleeing to another dark room. He spoke of listening to a sombre tune and talks of surrender. He spoke of challenging the opposition to a duel, and the sombre advice whispered by his brother before he stepped upon a path. He spoke of the shock of the arrow through his heart, the draining feeling of dying twice in the same night. He spoke of a desperate deal, a plea, an offer of two discs for the happiness of his nation. He spoke of an agreement and the cheers of his allies, the bright smile Wilbur wore as he pulled Tommy in close and whispered his praises.

Wilbur wasn’t smiling now, though. His brother’s face was pale as a sheet, and Tommy couldn’t help the sick comparison he found between his complexion and that of a familiar ghost. Though, he wasn’t at that part of the story, yet. He’d have to wait until they reached the next part.

Tommy explained the short peace-time soon ended by his brother’s own restless worries. He explained the election and the parties which formed soon after its announcement. He explained the debates and the talks of alliances and coalition parties. 

He paused for a moment, knowing what occurred next. He recalled standing on a stage cheering for a presumed victory. He remembered being led off the stage by a silent brother as their opponent gave his victory speech, his first decree of their exile. He could never forget the panic, the running through their homeland in terror, the horror of watching his brother get shot in the back but having to remain quiet as he fled deeper into the tunnels.

Wilbur, at this point, had given up all attempts to hide his horror as he leaned heavily against his twin's side grounding himself with the fabric of a cape clutched between white knuckles, only supported by the arm wrapped around his shoulders as Techno stared holes into the wooden floor beneath them, looking a single step away from snapping.

Tommy hesitated to continue. Was it really worth it? Would they be able to stomach his reality? He contemplated just leaving the story as is, they must have heard enough to understand, but Phil interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s alright, Tommy,” he assured even through the slight tears Tommy could see growing in the corner of Phil’s eyes, “Just keep talking. It’s okay.”

Tommy gave a reluctant nod, taking a deep breath before resuming. He told them of a dark cave and calling for help from their eldest brother. He told them of long cold nights and his brother’s slow withdrawal. He told them of quick fights followed by even colder nights. He told them of the announcement of a festival and the declaration of violence from a brother long since lost to the whispers of paranoia and memories of betrayal.

The sound of Wilbur’s own bout of curses was barely covered up by Tommy’s recounts of a festival gone awry. The death of Tubbo at the hands of Techno through the pressure of the president. The fights and the pit, a declared vow of universal languages from one brother and a promise to finish a conversation once and for all from the other.

Then he recounts the silence, the small bit of time where allies were made and the date was set for the finale to this story. The 16th of November. A day that would make history.

Tommy spilled the details of the dawn of disaster. The planning and the vault. The initial attacks and the seemingly easy victory as the allies overpowered the few remaining enemies with ease. Surrounding the disgraced President within the old van, as he choked out his last breaths before their eyes. He recounted the feeling of victory as they rejoiced and the presidency was passed from Tommy to Wilbur to Tubbo, the next leader of L’manburg. The speech of hope and peace.

He can see the small bit of a relief that fills his family's eyes at the admission. The belief that maybe the end was in sight, that surely, after all that, there must be a happy ending for their youngest’s counterpart.

Oh, how wrong they were.

Tommy choked out the details with shuddering breaths. The anger of his eldest brother and the disappearance of Wilbur. The fighting and the explosions. The appearance of their father, overshadowed by the image of a familiar blade entering the chest of his brother. The stillness of Wilbur’s body as Phil mournfully lowered him to the ground. The immediate distraction as his only remaining brother held a haunting skull in his hands, screaming a warning of the tale Theseus. 

Techno let out a growl and Tommy couldn't help the flinch as he stared at his brother. He took in the sight of his family. Wilbur no longer held the look of righteous anger, but instead, his face held no emotion as he stared blankly ahead. Phil, on the other hand, was barely concealing his tears as he tightly gripped his son’s arm for support. 

Techno, however, looked wrathful. Tommy couldn’t help the small part of his brain which told him to run, to hide. They all knew the truth about his world, and the hell he’d sent their Tommy to. It was no wonder they couldn’t even bear to look at him anymore.

Techno must have noticed his anxiety as he calmed down, albeit slightly, and softly asked, “Is that all, Tommy?”

“Pretty much. You fled L’manburg. Wilbur came back as a ghost, and Phil helped rebuild,” he paused, “then I got exiled.”

He could see Wilbur snap back to attention at that, “What?” he screeched, “You’re kidding, why?”

Tommy shrugged, “Dream demanded it, and Tubbo decided it was the best option. I was led away from L’manburg by Dream and brought to Logstedshire with Ghostbur. That’s where I last was before I got swapped here. If your Tommy is anywhere, he’s probably there.”

He could see the anger grow on his family’s faces. Techno and Phil both looked ready to commit a murder, while Wilbur looked ready to burn the world to the ground. 

It was scarily familiar. He recognized those looks, it was the look of Wilbur in a dark cave ranting about villains and their symphonies and Techno across a chasm screaming about heroes and their tales. It was the look Tommy had known for far too long, yet never could get used to.

His body froze and he could feel his hands begin to shake as he stared back. They were going to kill him, he’d sent their Tommy to an unimaginable hell and now they had no way of knowing when or how they were going to get him back.

It was fair for them to be resentful, Tommy expected it even, but he couldn’t help the small part of his brain that whispered for him to run, to hide, to do anything to spare him from what was about to come. 

Tommy let out a shaky breath as he heaved out a heavy apology, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he could see the way they directed their attention to him, and shut his eyes tight in fearful anticipation.

He felt a soft hand land on his shoulder and flinched before opening his eyes to meet the soft brown eyes of his brother. Wilbur was crouched before the bed staring up at Tommy with sad eyes. Wilbur carefully relaid the hand back on Tommy’s shoulder before calmly whispering, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Tommy. It’s not your fault.”

Tommy rapidly shook his head, his eyes stinging as he shuddered, “No, you don’t understand. Dream-“

“Is not someone you need to worry about anymore,” Techno stepped forward, “You’re safe now, Tommy.”

Wilbur sat himself on the bed next to Tommy nodding along to Techno’s words. He placed a comforting hand on the boy’s back. Tommy wanted to believe them, but even though he was away from exile and his Dream, he wasn’t safe just yet. He felt the letter burn a hole in his back pocket and Tommy silently reached to pull it out.

He could hear Phil let out a gasp and he held the letter out in front of him, “Tommy, how’d you-“

“I’m sorry for stealing, I know I need to work on that, but I don't think you understand,” he unfurled the letter staring at the mocking symbol at the bottom of the page, “I’m not safe from Dream because he’s here too, and he’s going to kill me.”

He had said it stoically like it was just another piece to his story, an already written chapter that he methodically recited to his family. No matter how they reacted, the text didn’t change. His fate had been sealed with two little dots and a small curve at the bottom of the page. 

He felt a hand touch his cheek and his head was slowly turned until he met Wilbur’s eyes. “You’re safe, Tommy,” Wilbur glanced at their father and brother, “We’ll make sure of that.”

Tommy felt the stinging return to his eyes, he tried to bite back the tears but ended up letting out a shuddering gasp instead. Wilbur noticed quickly and pulled the boy into his chest, laying his head gently in the head of golden locks. 

Tommy’s head rested once more above the steady beat of his brother’s heart. His body shook with silent sobs despite no tears falling from his eyes. Wilbur shushed his cries all the same, petting his hair and whispering, “It’ll be okay, Tommy. Just rest for now.”

Slowly, Tommy let himself drift off to the soothing beat beneath his head and the calming whispers of Wilbur’s voice into his hair.

-

Once Tommy had fully drifted off, face smoothing out in a peaceful expression, Wilbur had rearranged them so the boy slept quietly against his chest while he leaned against the headboard.

Phil had shortly come over to sit on the edge of the bed, softly running his hands through the boy’s hair. They had been sitting in silence for a long while, when Techno spoke, “I’m going to kill him.”

Phil paused his hand as he quietly sighed, “Techno,”

“No! You heard what Tommy said. We can’t just sit back and do nothing. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“I know, but we need to be careful,” Phil stared softly down at the sleeping boy gently brushing the hair from his face, “He’s been through so much he needs time to exist without fighting.”

“How could we let this happen?” Wilbur whispered.

Both Techno and Phil glanced at him curiously before Wilbur continued, “That version of me brought him into a war. He died fighting for a cause I created. Then I abandoned him when he needed me most. I hate myself for it.”

“He said I told him to die. I compared him to Theseus. God, how could I do such a thing?” Techno rubbed a hand across his face in frustration, “What is wrong with me? I don’t get it!”

“He said I killed you,” Phil whispered, refusing to meet Wilbur’s eyes.

“Dad,” Wilbur started.

“No. I know, but even still, it tears at my soul,” Phil had tears gathering in his eyes once more as he reached his hands up and grasped each of his sons’ hands, “Never, would I raise my own sword against you. No matter what. I couldn’t live with myself,” he paused, taking a shuddering breath, “and I know that counterpart of mine must feel the same way.”

Wilbur shook his head, “How can you be so sure?”

Phil gave a small smile before letting go of their hands to resume petting Tommy’s head. “I can’t, but when I look at this boy, who isn’t even supposed to be my own, I still see my son. I still see Tommy,” he glanced back up at Wilbur and Techno, “Who’s to say we aren’t the same way?”

Wilbur glanced down sadly at the boy in his arms, sleeping peacefully. He couldn’t believe that such a young boy could already have gone through so much and still keep going. He cursed himself for not realizing sooner, but when Tommy smiled at him, when he showed up at his door with the proposal of mischief, Wilbur had only looked down and seen his younger brother.

Even when the boy had broken down at breakfast or forgotten the sacred ritual of dinner, Wilbur had assumed it was just a rough day for the boy. Even at his worst, Tommy would always be Tommy, he’d always be Wilbur’s little brother, alternate version of him or not.

Techno grunted above them, “Yeah, well what changed? Something must have happened to screw his world up that badly. What could possibly have happened that would make things the way they are?”

Phil hummed for a moment, considering, before he leaned over to grasp the crinkled letter at the foot of the bed. He held it up, placing the ominous signature on display, “I think his name was Dream?”

“So, what do you suggest we do, Dad?” Techno crossed his arms.

“For now, we rest,” Phil glanced at Tommy with a small smile before turning his attention to his two eldest sons, “Tomorrow,” his smile turned sharp as the Angel of Death showed his true colours, “we plan.”

Chapter Text

Tommy’s feet didn’t carry him far from the house as he ran into the snow. He didn’t plan where he was going, but at the sound of a soft sigh, Tommy’s head shot up to meet Carl’s beady stare. 

His lips turned up in a soft smile as he approached Carl’s small stable. He’d meant to visit after speaking with Ghostbur, possibly give Carl some extra treats after the incident with the L’manburg army yesterday, but obviously, things had gotten sidetracked.

Tommy raised his hand and laid it on Carl’s forehead, gently petting him down his neck. Carl leaned into the touch appreciatively and Tommy sighed. 

He just didn’t understand.

Tommy didn’t understand how things could’ve ended up the way they did. He didn’t understand why Phil and Techno kept it from him, or why they allowed themselves to just accept what happened. 

Didn’t they want to be happy? Didn’t they want to fix things? Tommy had been in this universe for almost a week at this point and he had seen it from both Techno and Phil. 

They weren’t happy.

He saw the way Techno walked with the weight of the world on his shoulders. The way Phil would stare longingly at the sky, wishing to touch it once more. Yet, despite it all, they never complained, never fought back. They just kept going, trudging along awaiting the next tragedy to inevitably take place.

It killed him to look at his family so beat down. It wasn’t as if his family in his universe never experienced struggles or rough times, but never would it have torn them apart such as this. At the end of it all, they were family and that was the most important thing.

No conflict couldn’t be solved with a calm conversation, a sincere apology, and maybe a nice hug or two. At worst, Tommy would find one of his brothers sulking in their rooms before Tommy would inevitably draw them out with a promise of mischief or a request to visit the gardens.

There wasn’t any room for mischief or time for a walk through the gardens in this universe. Everything was done with the sole purpose of survival, always sticking to yourself to avoid getting hurt once more. Even when together in Techno’s cabin, away from any sign of danger, his family remained broken and distant.

What a sad life to live.

Tommy’s fingers caught in some tangled strands in Carl’s mane. Tommy shook his head as he reached for the brush by the gate. “I’m sorry, buddy. I should’ve been here earlier, but I’ll sort it out now.”

He slowly ran the brush through the horse’s mane, gently detangling the knotted strands. Soon enough, Carl’s mane was tangle-free but Tommy found himself absentmindedly continuing the action. Raising the brush and letting it flow through the dark strands.

Tommy could almost close his eyes and imagine he was back home, sitting behind his brother before they went to bed slowly brushing through long pink strands before carefully braiding them together when he deemed fit. Braiding Techno’s hair was always calming, laying each section over each other and repeating, even if Tommy and Techno both knew that the braid would get ruined once Techno left the room to rest.

In the morning, Techno would emerge from his room and silently make his way next door, not even bothering to knock as he entered, brush already in hand. Before Tommy was found by their dad, it was Wilbur who braided Techno’s hair day and night. Wilbur was the only one Techno trusted to do it perfectly, and his twin did it without complaint every morning since they were kids.

Tommy usually wasn’t there for the early morning braiding sessions, typically still asleep across the hall. However, even on the few mornings, he was awake he rarely entered Wilbur’s room when he knew they were braiding Techno’s hair. He knew Techno liked being able to just get ready with his twin like when they were younger and shared a room, not because of space but because they were inseparable. 

Even when they eventually got separate rooms; they made sure to have the morning just for them where Wilbur would gather Techno’s hair and slowly braid it for him, taking care to make sure no strand lay out of place. 

Yet, Techno’s hair in this universe lay unbraided, no twin to gently comb through the tangled strands and carefully lay them over one another in a smooth braid. Techno had no twin in this universe and he went on like it was fine, hair roughly cut lying just below his chin as he worked tirelessly around the cabin, always shoving it behind his ear in frustration.

Wilbur was gone and Techno acted like everything was just fine.

Things weren’t fine, though. They wouldn’t be fine so long as they continued the way they were. So long as his family allowed Dream to continue running the show, continue driving a wedge between them, slowly corrupting them until they were nothing more than ghosts of their former selves.

Tommy set the brush down and placed his arms around Carl’s neck, burying his face in the horse’s mane. Carl only let out another small sigh allowing the boy to nestle deeper in his neck. 

“I don’t know what to do, Carl,” Tommy admitted softly.

Tommy certainly didn’t expect Carl to respond to him, so when he heard a soft call of his name he couldn’t hide his startled jump. He quickly dropped his arms from around Carl’s neck and turned to look where the voice came from.

Techno stood there awkwardly, hands loose at his sides. Tommy’s eyes drifted to the sword still strapped at his hip. Techno noticed Tommy’s gaze and turned himself so that the sword disappeared from Tommy’s view. He stepped forward and repeated once more, “Tommy.”

Tommy quickly shifted his gaze back to Carl, distracting himself once more with the horse’s mane, fingers drifting through the strands seamlessly. Techno let out a soft sigh, and Tommy could hear the snow shift under his feet as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” Tommy’s fingers dropped from Carl’s mane.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I shouldn’t have pulled my sword out on you.”

In his own universe, Tommy would have probably announced that he forgave his brother and that he knew Techno didn’t mean it. They would move on with a small hug and a promise to not let it happen again, but this wasn’t Tommy’s universe. Tommy was allowed to be petty.

Tommy turned his attention back to Carl and silently picked up the brush from before. There was no reason for Carl to be brushed anymore, all the tangles had been sorted and the brush flowed seamlessly through the strands. Techno must have noticed this as he stepped forward once more with a frown, “Tommy, I really don’t think you understand. I don’t know about your universe, but in this universe, things are complicated .”

Tommy only hummed in response, silently weaving the silky strands of Carl’s mane together in a small braid. Techno gave a small huff of annoyance as he continued, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but this universe’s Tommy and I don’t have the best relationship. He betrayed me. He used me. He-“

“He loved you,” Tommy turned to stare at Techno. The hybrid’s features were frozen in a mixture of shock and confusion. “You were his older brother. He thought the world of you.”

He watched as Techno’s brows furrowed and his mouth dropped into a sick scowl. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do know. I know Tommy because I am him,” Tommy knew the words struck a chord as Techno’s fingers twitched at his sides next to his sword. He probably should have stopped, should have backed off and let Techno cool down, but he couldn’t help but whisper the words, “I know you as well.”

When the sound of a sword being unsheathed echoed through the tundra, Tommy didn’t even flinch. He stared blankly at Techno who looked to be barely holding himself together, face set in a dark expression. The sword stayed at Techno’s side, but he could tell that it wouldn’t take much for the man to change that.

“I want you to take those words back right now,” Techno seethed, clutching the hilt of the sword tighter in his hand.

Maybe Tommy should have felt afraid. Maybe he should have stuttered out a quick apology and forgotten about it all. Maybe he should have accepted the fact that this world was too far gone. But when Tommy stared across the way at Techno, he only saw his brother. A brother who, despite as much as he tried to hide it behind hand-crafted armour and blades so heavily enchanted they could kill an enemy in a single strike, was afraid.

He could see it in the way Techno’s fingers subtly fidgeted around the hilt of the sword, the way his ears twitched and he fought to hide the look of pain that crossed his face. 

“I know you, Techno.” He stepped forward, ignoring the way Techno gripped the sword tighter, pointing it towards Tommy’s chest. “I know you’re my brother. I know your favourite colours are blue and gold. I know you love myths and you’ve read the Iliad more times than you can remember,” Tommy slowly reached up and lowered the sword in front of him with his hand, “I know you won’t kill me because I know, even though you would never admit it, you love Tommy, too.”

When the sound of a sword hitting the snow beneath their feet reached Tommy’s ears, he took the final step forward and stared straight into his brother’s piercing gaze. “You know me, too, and you know I’m right,” Tommy finished.

Techno’s gaze hardened for a moment before he softened letting out a small scoff, “Figures you would be such a pest in every universe.”

Tommy stared indignantly back, “Hey!” he protested, “I am awesome in every universe is what you meant to say.”

“Sure, kid,” Techno rolled his eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He reached over and ruffled Tommy’s hair to which Tommy let out a squawk of annoyance. “Let’s just get inside before you get frostbite.”

Techno turned to leave, leaning down and retrieving his sword from the ground and delicately brushing the remnants of snow from the blade. Tommy couldn’t help but roll his eyes and call out, “Love you, too, asshole.”

Techno froze, and for a moment Tommy was afraid that he’d fucked it up, that he’d crossed a line, but Techno only turned and gave Tommy a small warm smile and nodded his head to the cabin, “Come on, Tommy.”

-

The next morning, Tommy awoke to the sound of wheezing laughter and the clinking of silverware. He rubbed his tired eyes as he made his way into the kitchen. 

For the first time since he arrived, he was met with the sight of the table fully set and three figures sitting together, a single chair left empty. 

There was a single moment where Tommy’s chest tightened as he stared at the scene. His dad seated at the head of the, smaller than usual, table with the twins seated to his left. 

“Tommy!” he heard to his right, “Techno was just about to come wake you up!” Tommy turned his head and met Ghostbur’s empty stare. For a moment the scene shattered and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t home, but the ice growing in his heart was quickly melted by the way Techno met his eyes and smiled. 

“You slept too many hours for someone who didn’t finish all of his chores yesterday,” he teased.

Tommy rolled his eyes and silently sat down in the empty chair. He looked down to see a plate with two fluffy pancakes waiting for him. He saw a bowl of ruby jam pushed under his nose and looked up to see Techno and Ghostbur snickering.

“Techno helped me pick the berries in the forest outside the cabin! We made some jam this morning,” Ghostbur paused for a moment then quickly added, “It’s for the pancakes!”

He gave Ghostbur a small appreciative smile and grabbed the jam from Techno’s hand, “Thank you.” As soon as he’d covered his pancakes in the appropriate amount of jam, the amount where it looks more like a massacre than a meal, he placed the bowl back in the centre of the table.

Sensing that everyone was content, they all began to eat. Even though it was silent, and there were still moments where they fumbled and the silence became suffocating, it was enough for Tommy. They were all there, together, family. He allowed a small smile to grow on his face.

It was progress.

But with every step forward, it was custom for them to take another two steps back. Once they had all lowered their forks and awkwardly sat in silence staring at various items around the room, Techno cleared his throat and quietly announced, “I think we should bring back Wilbur.”

Phil’s hands dropped against the table causing the cutlery to rattle with an obnoxious clang. “What?” he asked.

Techno ignored their dad’s perplexed stare and turned to look at Tommy, “I thought about what you said, and you’re right, Tommy. There isn’t any reason to not bring him back anymore.”

Tommy almost felt happy at his brother admitting that he was right, but it was quickly soured at how Phil interjected, “Absolutely not. Dream explicitly stated that we were not allowed to do that.”

“Since when should we care about what that homeless man thinks?”

“Since he was the leader of this land.”

Techno scoffed, “Yeah, cause that means anything. He has no power. He only derives authority from the fact that people listen to him.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that we’re not really in the position to fight right now,” Phil hissed, not even trying to hide the way his eyes drifted to Tommy.

Techno groaned, “I think we’re more than capable of keeping him away from them.”

“We don’t know that for sure Techno, and how can you be sure bringing Wilbur would even be for the best? What if it’s not what he would want?”

“Doesn’t Wilbur’s happiness matter enough to take that risk?”

Tommy sat as a silent observer as he watched the two continue to bicker across the table. By this point, Techno and Phil had begun to lean forward in their seats as their voices rose. Tommy stared down at his plate empty save for the few drops of red jam staining the pristine white.

He glanced across the table to a similarly empty plate save for the small droplets of blue dye that would most likely forever stain the pristine white of the porcelain. Ghostbur’s hands fidgeted as Techno and Phil continued to argue over his head, completely oblivious to the ghost of the man whose fate they currently were debating.

“Do you wanna come back, Ghostbur?” Tommy blurted.

The table fell silent save for the sound of dye hitting porcelain.

“What?” Ghostbur asked.

“Do you want to come back to life?”

“I-,” He could see the way Ghostbur faltered. The moment the question fully settled its way in the spirit’s mind as he seemed to become even more translucent. Ghostbur awkwardly glanced between Techno’s hopeful eyes and Phil’s sad stare. He clutched the blue tighter in his hands. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he wanted.

Then Ghostbur blank eyes met blue. Not the dark blue of the dye which slipped through his fingers, but a warm bright blue. The blue of the sky on a sunny day. A blue which reassured him that everything would be okay, no matter what choice he made.

Ghostbur wiped his dye-stained hands on his pants before saying with the confidence of a man who once looked his own father in the eyes and asked for his own demise, “I want to come back to life.”

Tommy gave him a warm smile, “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

-

The moon was high in the sky by the time Phil and Techno had set up everything for the ritual. They were gathered in the basement, a bed set up fully made in preparation for when they would need to lay Wilbur’s body to rest.

Ghostbur was standing at the far wall close to the bed fidgeting with his blue. Phil was crouched down next to him digging through the ender chest they had brought downstairs.

Tommy felt himself lean slightly into Techno while they waited. They had been setting the room up all day and Tommy could feel his eyes slip shut against his will every now and again. He felt a small nudge against his shoulder and looked up to see Techno giving him a concerned look. “You can go to bed if you would like, Tommy. Wilbur will be here in the morning when you wake up.”

“I’m not tired,” shaking his head fighting off the yawn that threatened to escape, “and I need to see this.”

Techno seemed like he wanted to argue but simply nodded instead as he allowed Tommy to lean against him once more. Phil stood up after he had retrieved what appeared to be an unused diamond sword. Tommy could see the small sparks of the fire aspect enchantment glint in the dark room. 

“This,” Phil held the sword in his cautious hand and raised the blade checking to make sure everything was perfect, “is the sword I killed Wilbur with.”

“The ritual calls for the deceased party to hold a totem of undying as they recreate their death.” He let the sword drop to his side out of view of the spectators and turned to face Ghostbur. “Ghostbur,” Phil called as he gathered the spirit’s attention, “Do you have the totem?”

Ghostbur fumbled around and dropped the remaining of his blue on the floor as he quickly reached into his pocket. “Yeah,” he raised it up as proof, giving Phil a beaming smile. Ghostbur held the totem tightly to his chest, the gold of the metal shining brightly against the dull faded tone of his yellow sweater. The totem thrummed with energy in his hands, allowing the ghost to be semi corporeal, enough for the ritual to work.

Phil nodded and stepped forward once more, steeling himself for what was to come. “Once I,” he paused, “Once the first part of the ritual is done, the totem will activate and pull Wilbur’s body and soul back together.”

Tommy knew what Phil was referring to. For the totem to activate, Ghostbur would have to die. Phil would have to stab his son once more. Sure, it was for the purpose of bringing him back to life, but Tommy didn’t miss the way Phil’s knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the sword, the way his expression remained blank forcing himself to push any emotion to the back burner. 

Both Tommy and Techno stood stiffly to the side, exhaustion pushed away in favour of remaining alert in case their Dad or brother needed them. Techno looked very ready to offer to do the task himself, but both he and Tommy knew that Phil needed to be the one to do it.

The same blade wielded by the same hand.

“Are you ready, Ghostbur,” Phil tensely asked. The ghost opted to only nod in response as Phil stepped closer to him. “Remember to not let go of the totem, okay?”

Tommy couldn’t see Phil’s face anymore, but Ghostbur’s eyes softened as he let go of the totem with one hand, the energy from the totem allowing him to place it gently against his father’s cheek, “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll be back before you know it!”

If Phil let out a choked sob in that moment, none of them mentioned it. Soon, the excess energy faded from Ghostbur’s hand and only the feeling of chilly air against Phil’s cheek remained. Ghostbur dropped his hand to clutch the totem once more and smiled at Tommy and Techno over Phil’s shoulder.

“See you guys, soon!” he called.

Techno silently nodded while Tommy gave him a small wave. Ghostbur’s smile didn’t falter as Phil took the final step toward and slowly raised the sword once more. 

Phil took a deep breath and held it for a beat before looking Ghostbur in the eyes and plunging the sword deep in Ghostbur’s chest pulling the ghost into a close embrace, wings wrapping around the two. Tommy couldn’t stop the cry as he watched the scene, and Techno quickly moved to pull Tommy’s head into his chest to stop him from looking.

Tommy shook against his brother’s chest as he heard the slow sound of something dripping to the floor. When the room drifted back into silence, Tommy turned to stare at his father and brother’s forms. 

Phil slowly lowered Ghostbur’s body to the ground, a practiced motion, careful not to let the totem fall from the spirit’s pale hands. “Any moment now,” Phil whispered. It sounded less like a statement and more of a reminder to himself. “Come on, Wilbur,” Phil placed his hand to the ghost’s cheek hoping to feel the cool air transform into smooth skin once more.

There was a small moment where everyone held their breaths, where they had to confront the fact that maybe the ritual didn’t work, that maybe Wilbur was gone forever. Tommy felt himself grow sick as he turned to bury his face back in his brother’s side. Techno slowly ran his hands through Tommy’s hair, less for the boy’s sake and more for his own.

What if Wilbur was gone for good? What if he just had to watch his brother die for the final time and all that they would be left with was a translucent incorporeal projection of his dead body? Would Phil and Techno blame him for this? It was his words which pushed Techno to suggest it. Was it his fault that they were here? 

For the first time since arriving in that world, Tommy was afraid.

Suddenly, a small humming sound emerged from behind them and Tommy and Techno quickly turned their attention to the totem. The golden metal slowly shook in Wilbur’s hands before it burst into multiple pieces, golden flakes disintegrating in Wilbur’s hands, the energy slowly swirling around his body until it settled in the wound in his chest. 

Tommy watched in fascination as the translucent skin slowly stitched itself back together, bits of reality weaving their way together until all that was left was the slumped form of Tommy’s older brother sleeping peacefully on the floor. 

They all released a collective relieved sigh as Phil placed his hand on Wilbur’s cheek feeling firm skin beneath his fingers, “Thank God,” he breathed.

Then Wilbur woke up. His eyes shot open as a deep gasp left his lips. He sat up quickly ignoring his newly healed wound as he clutched at his chest feeling the racing heartbeat beneath his fingers. His eyes danced between the three figures who stood cautiously in front of him, but it seemed like Wilbur didn’t recognize a single one of them.

His eyes drifted to the figure just in front of him, holding a bloodied sword in his hands. Phil noticed Wilbur’s gaze and quickly dropped the sword, but it was too late. Wilbur’s brows raised as he flung himself back, quickly crawling until his back hit the stone wall behind them.

Phil stepped forward raising a cautious hand in front of him, “Wil-“

Phil’s words were covered by Wilbur’s whimper of pain as he covered his ears and scrunched his eyes in pain. “Please stop. It hurts. It fucking hurts,” he cried out, pressing his hands tighter against his ears.

Phil stood shocked to the side as they watched Wilbur slowly break down in front of him. Tommy had seen it happen before, the unstable breathing, the tears, the overwhelming feeling of panic. Wilbur used to deal with them back in his universe, too, but the only thing that could truly bring him out of such a bad one was-

Before Tommy could finish his thought, Techno had let go of Tommy’s shoulder and rushed to his twin's feet. He crouched down, ignoring Wilbur’s panicked sob, and pulled Wil’s forehead against his own, letting a soft rumble emanate from his chest. 

Wilbur focused on the sound and his breathing slowed until his eyes drifted shut and he slumped forward against Techno. Techno quietly lifted Wilbur’s limp form and carried him to the bed. Laying Wilbur down on the bed and carefully covering up his sleeping form with the brown knitted blanket Phil had made sometime in his free time.

For a moment, they were all silent as they listened to the quiet sound of Wilbur’s breathing, as they stared at the way the blanket moved up and down with his chest. Phil quietly approached the bed and once more placed his hand on his son’s cheek. He didn’t say anything as he slowly began to card his fingers through Wilbur’s curls, fixating on the single grey strand at the front of his head.

“I don’t think we should leave him alone. Someone should be here for when he wakes up,” Phil said softly.

Techno didn’t even hesitate before he stepped forward, “I’ll do it.”

Phil turned to look at Techno with concern but Techno only shook his head in response. Techno took his place by Wilbur’s side and paused before taking his twin’s hand in his own sitting on the ground next to the bed.

None of them wanted to leave. Wanted to sit in that moment and just breathe, allow themselves to just exist, all four of them, together, no need to worry about war, or betrayal, or death. They were alive, that’s all that mattered.

“It’s going to be okay,” Phil whispered to the silent air.

Yeah, it was.

-

The next morning, when Techno couldn’t put off his chores anymore and Phil had left for the nearby village to pick up more supplies to compensate for the extra (now living) addition to their house, Tommy was left to watch over Wilbur.

Wilbur had been sleeping for almost 14 hours now, and Tommy would be lying if he said it didn’t worry him. Wil’s face was perfectly blank, expression relaxed as slept peacefully in the cold dark basement beneath their feet. 

Tommy found himself staring off towards the wall across from them, letting his thoughts drift as he listened to the quiet sound of Wilbur’s breathing. Techno or Phil should’ve been returning within the next hour or so which gave Tommy some time to himself as he waited for Wilbur to wake up.

There were no windows in the basement, so Tommy spent the time counting the shapes he could find in the stone walls. It wasn’t snowflakes and it was easier to lose his place or forget which shapes he’d seen before, but Tommy persisted. He found himself whispering the numbers under his breath. He was almost to 240 when he heard a voice interrupt him.

“There aren’t any stars down here, Tommy.”

Tommy looked down and met Wilbur’s brown eyes. His brother was staring at him with a soft stare and a warm smile. Tommy couldn’t stop himself from launching himself at Wilbur and wrapping his arms around the man with an excited shout.

Wilbur let out a pained huff and a cry to “Watch it!” before he softened, rolling his eyes in fond annoyance and wrapping his arms around Tommy as well. 

Tommy pushed himself further into Wilbur’s chest, turning his head slightly to the right until he heard it. The gentle thump of his brother’s heartbeat beneath Tommy’s ears. He felt himself slump in relief against Wilbur’s chest as he smiled.

Wilbur was alive.

It was all going to be okay.

He could feel Wilbur’s fingers card through his hair as the man let a small hum reverberate through his chest. Tommy leaned his head into the vibrations, vaguely recognizing the tune as the one Ghostbur would hum around the cabin.

He’d never bothered to ask Ghostbur about the melody, usually too preoccupied with his chores or his own thoughts to worry about the song, but Ghostbur always smiled as he let the hum echo through the house usually beginning again as soon as the last note echoed to a missing audience, a silent call for an encore that only Ghostbur could hear.

This time the melody was more broken, the notes rougher as if Wilbur wasn’t sure whether he wanted to finish the song but pushed through anyway. Even still, the melody calmed Tommy as he leaned closer to his brother, enjoying the comfort of being together even if the man wasn’t the brother he grew up with.

He let his eyes slide shut as he drifted off to the choppy lullaby. Eventually, the hum faded as the final note rang out through the room leaving the two in silence, Tommy barely awake on Wilbur’s chest. 

He heard a chuckle above him as Wilbur’s finger poked at his forehead. “Come on, you don’t get to go to sleep. Not as soon as I wake up.” Tommy scrunched his face in displeasure but pushed himself up anyways. 

Wilbur only smiled at Tommy as he sat across from Wilbur on the bed, crossing his legs on the bed and leaning his head against his palm fighting off the sleep that still pulled at his eyelids. Looking at Wilbur across from him now, though, Tommy forced himself to stay awake.

Wilbur looked alive. His skin was full of colour and his eyes were the same warm brown that Tommy remembered. Even if he looked a little rough with the grey strands of hair and bags under his eyes, he still looked like Wilbur.

Tommy couldn’t help himself from whispering, “I missed you so much, Wilbur.”

It was like a glass shattering as Wilbur’s face quickly dropped and the colour filling his face drained until he was left as pale as his undead counterpart.

“What?” Wilbur whispered.

Maybe Tommy should’ve stopped. Wilbur looked uncomfortable, frightened almost by the admission, but Tommy couldn’t help himself. It was the truth. 

“I missed you, Wilbur,” he repeated, “We all did.”

Wilbur didn’t even meet Tommy’s eyes as he stared at the floor distracted. He looked confused, like the prospect of anyone missing him while he was gone was a foreign concept. It took a moment for the words to fully process in his mind before Wilbur looked up at Tommy with a sad expression.

“Tommy,” he started, hesitating as he stared into his younger brother’s bright eyes, “maybe you shouldn’t have brought me back.”

“What?” Tommy whispered. “Of course we should’ve brought you back. You didn’t deserve to die, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shook his head and scoffed. Tommy stared at him helplessly reaching down to grasp Wilbur’s worn hand in his own. “Wilbur,” he looked Wilbur in the eyes, “you didn’t deserve to die. Why would you think otherwise?”

The shock faded from Wilbur’s expression and was quickly replaced with anger as he ripped his hand from Tommy’s. “I did deserve to die, Tommy! I was the villain, and the villain doesn’t get to stick around,” he huffed, reaching up to tug at the grey hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, “The villain certainly doesn’t get to be brought back after the story is over.”

Tommy flinched back involuntarily, slightly scared at the way Wilbur’s voice raised with every word carrying more and more frustration and anger. In the dim lighting of Techno’s cold basement, stone walls surrounding them on all sides, Tommy’s body screamed at him to run. That this was something that had happened before. 

His hands shook and he couldn’t control the stinging behind his eyes as he stared at Wilbur’s outburst. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He didn’t need this right now. Tommy furiously rubbed at his eyes and returned his attention back to his brother.

“Stop that!” Tommy shouted. Wilbur looked at him shocked for a moment before Tommy continued, “This isn’t some fucking story, Wilbur. You’re not a villain. You’re my brother.”

He thought maybe the words would get through to Wilbur, but the man just rolled his eyes and let a twisted smile on his face. Though, Tommy could see the way the sides of his mouth strained against the action like he was fighting to maintain control, to keep playing his imaginary part and play it well.

“You haven’t changed a bit since I’ve been gone. Have you, Tommy?” Wilbur turned his attention to the walls around them, raising a hand to run his fingers against the cool stone, “This all feels familiar, doesn’t it? Like we’ve done this conversation before. Deja vu, perhaps?” He laughed like it was some sort of sick inside joke.

A joke that maybe would have made the normal Tommy’s stomach turn at the implications, but Tommy could only stare blankly at Wilbur’s theatrics. He didn’t remember whatever Wilbur was referring to. He had been thrown on stage, a forced understudy after intermission. He didn’t know the script. He didn’t know his lines or cues.

Though, that was okay. Tommy had always been good at improv. 

He shook his head and repeated his previous point, “Wilbur, you didn’t have to die.” 

Wilbur sent a sharp glare towards Tommy before he released a soft chuckle, his expression returning to the same warm smile Tommy was used to seeing on his brother’s face. It was slightly unnerving to see him swap so fast between two vastly different states and Tommy was unsure whether he should relax as well or run as far as he could.

Wilbur turned back to look at the walls of the basement, “Can I tell you a secret, Tommy?” Tommy nodded even if he knew Wilbur probably couldn’t see his reaction, “It wasn’t Phil who was supposed to kill me in that room,” Wilbur turned and gave Tommy a small smile, “It was you.”

Tommy felt the colour drained from his face. Now, that was a sentence he could understand. No context necessary. Even still Tommy couldn’t help but whisper out a choked, “What?”

“Every story has to end eventually. The hero has to defeat the villain. I realized this when we had this conversation before. It was always going to be you and me, Tommy. The Hero and the Villain.

“Then the day came, and I was standing in that godforsaken room. The end was in sight. I could finally rest, and you’d be the one to help me do that, Tommy,” Wilbur chuckled, “Then Dad arrived. It was a slight deviation from the plan, but I thought I could still make it work. That we could still end the story.”

Wilbur shrugged as he stepped closer to Tommy, “So I blew it up. I pressed the button and watched as everything we built was reduced to ash. I fulfilled my part as the villain and now it was your turn.”

Wilbur paused for a moment and met Tommy’s eyes, his gaze the same warm and loving one Tommy knew so well. “But then I looked out across the rubble and I saw you,” Wilbur took another step forward and carefully laid his hands on Tommy’s cheeks, cradling his face gently in his palms. “You’ve always had such a tender heart. So loving. So selfless. It’s what I always loved most about you.”

Wilbur had a downcast expression as he stared into Tommy’s suddenly dim blue eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I looked at you, and I knew you couldn’t do it. You wouldn’t do it, but the hero still deserves his happy ending. You deserved a happy ending, so I asked Dad.”

A smile pulled at Wilbur’s lips as he dropped the hands from Tommy’s face and turned around in a giddy spin, “And he did it! He killed me, and the story was finally over! My death was the best option for everyone! It was meant to be!” He released a loud laugh throwing his head back as he finally finished his story, the final words falling from his lips in a mocking tone. 

“Was it the best option for you?”

Tommy stared blankly as Wilbur’s head dropped and he quickly turned to stare at Tommy. “What?” Wilbur shakily asked. 

“Was it really the best option for you? Dying, I mean.” Tommy repeated.

He could see the way the words overwhelmed his brother. Wilbur stared back confused as he continuously shifted between furrowing his brows, opening his mouth to speak, to gazing helplessly at Tommy as if the boy could save him from the answer he so desperately wanted to avoid but knew he couldn't. 

“I-” he started before the sound of the door above them slamming open echoed through the empty cabin. Tommy could hear the slight rustle of wings shaking snow from their feathers and a slight huff as their father presumably deposited his gatherings on the table.

“Tommy?” Phil called from above them.

Tommy gave one last look at Wilbur who stood deadly still in front of him before yelling his reply, “I’m still down here!”

The footsteps above them got louder until their father’s figure descended down the ladder to the basement dropping from the rungs and turning around. Phil’s soft smile only grew wider when he noticed the second figure standing behind his youngest. 

“Wilbur,” Phil breathed as he quickly gathered the man in his arms, holding him close and feeling relieved at the way hesitant arms reached up and wrapped around him in return. Unconsciously, Phil’s wings spread and surrounded the two in a second embrace protecting them from the outside world. 

Tommy looked at the two with a soft smile. “I’m going to go do my chores,” he said, not surprised at the lack of response as he left to give the two the privacy they deserved. He could finish his conversation with Wilbur later. 

Once Tommy’s figure disappeared upstairs and the sound of the door closing echoed once more, Phil released Wilbur from the hug, still leaving his hands on his son’s shoulders as he spoke a mile a minute. Wilbur didn’t hear a word he said as stared at the spot his younger brother previously stood.

He still couldn’t answer the question.

Chapter Text

Tommy woke to the sound of whispered voices above him. He couldn’t decipher any of the words that passed over his head, but he knew one thing.

They had woken him up from a damn good sleep.

Tommy let out a tiny grumble and buried himself deeper in the pillow beneath his cheek. The voices stopped above him and for a moment Tommy thought he could get a couple more hours of rest.

Then his pillow began to shake beneath him as the sound of Wilbur’s quiet laughter echoed above him.

Fingers began to move through his hair as Wilbur whispered, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Tommy cracked open an eye to stare petulantly at Wilbur’s smirking face. The action only served to make Wilbur laugh harder, further disrupting Tommy’s plans of going back to sleep.

In retaliation, Tommy beat his fist into his brother’s chest relishing in the small grunt of pain that the action elicited. 

“Okay. Well it seems someone’s grumpy this morning,” Wilbur said pushing Tommy off his chest and back onto the mattress, “If you wanted to go back to sleep you only needed to say so, child”

“Wilbur, leave him alone.”

Tommy opened his eyes to find Phil and Techno. The two still wore the same clothes Tommy had seen them in the day before, and he could see the way Techno’s hair was loosely falling out his typically pristine braid.

It looked like they hadn’t slept at all.

Wilbur was no better. Although he was still in the pyjamas he wore the night before, Tommy could see the slight sag to his posture and the subtle exhaustion on his face.

Phil must have noticed his staring because he quickly turned his attention to his youngest, seating himself at the edge of the bed.

“How are you doing, mate?”

“I’m fine,” Tommy grumbled, still slightly upset at being woken up.

Phil’s expression didn’t ease as he pressed slightly more, “Are you sure? Yesterday was a lot.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the bed, “I’m fine. I promise. Just wondering why you all are hovering like a bunch of vultures while I’m trying to sleep.”

“Tommy, you literally-” Wilbur started.

“We’re just worried, mate,” Phil cut him off, giving Tommy a gentle smile. 

It was unnerving. Tommy had worried that telling his family about his past would result in them being angry, but he wasn’t sure that this wasn’t worse. He felt like he was under a spotlight with the way their eyes stayed locked on him. He knew the look that laid behind their eyes. The soft smiles and the gentle touches, while nice on the surface, made Tommy wish they had just yelled at him. He knew what they thought.

They pitied him, and he hated it. 

Tommy crossed his arms. “Well, you’re kind of creeping me out. I’m fine.” He could see the way Phil and Wilbur wanted to protest, but Techno beat them to it.

“Guys,” Techno butted in, “He said he was fine. Give the kid some space.”

Almost immediately, the two gave him the space Tommy desperately craved. Wilbur went silent and crossed his arms, barely bothering to hide the look of concern that remained on his face. Phil sighed before pushing himself up from the bed moving to stand next to his other two sons.

He gave a small glance to Techno who nodded his head in response. Phil returned his attention back to Tommy with a warm smile. “Well, we’ll let you get some rest, mate. Just know that if you need anything we’re here for you.”

They turned to leave, while Wilbur bounded forward and ruffled Tommy’s hair with a small chuckle, “Sleep well, child. We’ll see you later!”

Before Wilbur could pull away, Tommy snatched Wilbur’s wrist. “Where are you all going anyways?”

Tommy knew his family. He knew the way they look when they are hiding something. He noticed the way Phil’s wings stiffened, the way Wilbur tried to deflect by laughing and screaming pulling his wrist from Tommy’s grip as if the question itself was irrational, and the gruff tone Techno used before he spat out, “Business.”

“Bullshit,” Tommy rolled his eyes, “You’re planning something. Something that probably involves me, and you’re leaving me out on purpose.”

Sure, Tommy was well aware that if worse came to worst he could just do what he’d always done and sneak around for information, but he thought that maybe they’d trust him enough to tell him anyway.

Phil turned and approached Tommy, crouching down to meet his son’s eyes. “Tommy,” he reached and grabbed one of the boy’s hands, “we just want to keep you safe and get you home. Trust us that we are doing everything we can to make that happen.”

“Then you should trust me enough to let me know what you’re doing.”

“We do trust you, but,” Phil hesitated.

Tommy scoffed, “But what?”

“We don’t want you getting involved, Tommy,” Techno snapped, “Drop it.”

Phil sent a harsh glare over his shoulder to which Techno just shrugged. Wilbur laid a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Tommy, you don’t need to be involved. You’ve gone through so much already. Just let us handle this, okay?” Wilbur’s lips curled up in a soft smile, but Tommy could see the way his expression was strained, his eyes almost pleading with Tommy to agree.

Tommy almost did. He heard the small whispers in the back of his mind grow louder at the suggestion. He could  just go back to sleep and let the rest of his family handle it. He could   wake up and go on like nothing was wrong.

He could  just stay forever if he wished.

Tommy shook himself once more. No, he needed to go with them. He trusted his family to protect him, but they needed him. 

“No,” He shook his head, ignoring the way their shoulders slumped, “You need me,” he saw the way Techno’s mouth opened to argue and continued anyways. “Or do you have another way of finding out about how to get me home? About Dream?”

They all hesitate. The room is silent, and Tommy lets a smirk grow on his face. “Thought so. Now, what’s the plan?”

They are silent for a moment longer before Techno lets out a quiet huff, “Alright, you can help, but you still need to be careful,” Tommy nodded, but Techno wasn’t finished. “You don’t have to do this by yourself, kid. So promise me you won’t.”

Techno’s gaze was unwavering. He wasn’t going to let Tommy get away that easily. Tommy met Techno’s eyes, giving him a stiff nod. Techno softened slightly, nodding once more and replying, “Good,” before making his way out of the bedroom.

Wilbur’s laugh echoed above Tommy’s head once more and he felt his brother’s fingers ruffle his already messy hair. He slapped Wilbur’s hand away with a scowl.

Wilbur let out a quiet yelp in response before standing as well. “Get up.” At Tommy’s confused stare, Wilbur rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to accomplish anything with you still in bed. Get dressed and meet us in Dad’s office.”

Wilbur left, and Phil followed closely behind after giving a small kiss to Tommy’s head and a tiny whisper of, “See you in a bit.” 

Then, Tommy was alone.

He didn’t waste much time before standing up and approaching the original chest of drawers he’d found on his first day. He pulled out an identical shirt to the one he was already wearing.

He didn’t necessarily feel the need to change out of his clothes. It felt wasteful almost, to need so many clothes. Tommy never really had much in terms of possessions besides the shirt on his back, and the statement remained true all the way until exile.

He remembered when Wilbur had arrived back in L’manburg on the eve of the Revolution with navy uniforms cradled in his arms. Tommy never took that damn uniform off, no matter how much Tubbo persisted that it needed to be washed.

It was the first time since entering the SMP that Tommy had more than that silly red baseball tee. He felt important.

Then they got exiled and Wilbur had burned the remnants of navy fabric, soon to be replaced with a  familiar red tee and a new patchwork coat. It didn’t bug him that much. He had grown used to the familiar scratch of the worn seam against the back of his neck and the countless stains that scattered across the previously pristine white fabric.

He cared for that shirt because it was all he had, but there was only so much he could do when he got exiled once more. He didn’t have Tubbo or Wilbur there to sew up the holes that formed when he injured himself collecting resources. He didn’t have the energy to wash out the stains that found their way into the cotton. He couldn’t even protect the shirt on his back.

Tommy deftly unbuttoned the shirt and quickly shrugged on the new one. He looked up to the small mirror above the chest. His fingers faltered as he reached for the first button. 

He hadn’t noticed it before. He’d been too focused on figuring out where the hell he was. 

Tommy slowly watched his reflection raise his hand and rest it on an unscarred chest. The skin was smooth under his fingers, the familiar bumps and ridges of raised red skin absent from his chest.

A shaky breath left Tommy’s lips as he pressed his palm harder against his skin. He never thought he’d see his body like this again. He never thought he’d be able to feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his palm and not have to feel the raised skin that reminded him that, at one moment, that beat had fallen short.

It was Dream’s arrow that had done that. Dream’s sword which left the twin mark just next to it. It was always Dream who was ruining things for Tommy.

Except, this Tommy didn’t have that, and he wouldn’t. Not if Tommy had any say in it. He’d keep the skin beneath his palm smooth if it killed-

Well, maybe he couldn’t rely on his usual tactic of getting things done. As much as he hated to admit it, he might need help. Tommy’s attention drifted to the wooden door to his left. 

It was a good thing he knew exactly who could help.

Tommy smiled and pressed his hand against his chest once more before quickly buttoning his shirt, concealing the smooth skin beneath it.

Yeah, things would be alright.

-

Tommy exited his room and found Phil waiting for him and his brothers in the middle of the hallway. He hadn’t even looked like he changed, his robes still the same dark green he’d been wearing the day before. 

He smiled, and before Tommy could ask about the whereabouts of Techno and Wilbur, the door across the hall opened to reveal his brothers. Just like Tommy, they wore clothes almost identical to their previous ones. The only indication that they’d actually gotten ready was the newly done braid draped over Techno’s shoulder.

Phil smiled and silently turned and walked down the hallway, the rest of them trailing behind. Wilbur yawned exaggeratedly, leaning his weight on Tommy’s shoulders as he walked. 

Tommy tilted his head and glared, “Do you mind?”

Wilbur smirked and yawned once more, “Nope. I didn’t get my beauty sleep this morning. None of us did,” they glanced at Techno whose feet were dragging subtly against the carpet. “This is payback for using me as your own personal pillow all night, child.”

Tommy shoved his elbow back roughly, delighting in the pained wheeze Wilbur released. He felt the weight on his shoulders lighten, and for a moment, Tommy thought he could find peace.

Then a heavier weight rested against his head. Tommy glanced up and found Techno’s smirking face staring back.

“Yeah, I’m tired as well.”

Tommy groaned, and three different laughs erupted around him in sync. He felt the weight on his shoulders return and turned to find Wilbur and Techno’s twin smirks. He rolled his eyes once more but didn’t make the move to push them off.

It was nice being able to be this close to them again.

-

Eventually, they made their way to Phil’s office. Light seeped in through the windows and illuminated the once dark room. It looked much more open during the daytime, less intimidating than the room Tommy found himself digging through the night before.

As soon as the door opened, Wilbur and Techno removed themselves from Tommy’s side and found their way to their respective chairs. Phil sat himself behind the desk, leaving only a single red chair left for Tommy.

It felt weird sitting in a chair so clearly meant for him, a chair that was well used with the sides worn out from where his predecessor’s knees had dug into the fabric. Tommy sat in the chair normally for a moment before pulling his legs up to his chest, his knees slotting into the dents perfectly.

The rest of his family smiled at the sight. For a moment, it was almost like they could pretend that it was their Tommy sitting in the chair. That they were all here just to bug their dad while he worked for the day.

Then, the moment was broken as Phil laid the letter on the desk. He twisted the paper around facing the letter towards Tommy and his brothers.

“Okay, Tommy,” Phil said, “I need you to tell me everything you know about this letter and the person who sent it.”

Tommy leaned forward to stare at that familiar smile one more time. He raised his hand and pressed his finger against the symbol. “It’s signed by Dream. That’s his symbol. It’s how he signed my invitation to the SMP, and the creepy bastard wears it everywhere as a mask anyways.”

Phil hummed as they all stared at the haunting smile. Techno leaned forward and quickly skimmed through the note. “What was he in your world? Was he important at all? Powerful?”

“He was the leader of the SMP.”

Techno hummed, “And before that?”

Tommy hesitated. He really didn’t know. He shook his head, “Nobody knows. It was like the dude appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly was the leader of this new SMP that people were scrambling to be invited to. He was probably just some guy.”

They sat in silence for a moment, stumped. Wilbur leaned forward with a furrow to his brow. He scanned the letter once more, searching over every letter for any sign of why this stranger was going after his family. 

“Is there any reason he would want access to the End?” Wilbur turned his head to Tommy.

Tommy shrugged, “I don’t know. The portal in the SMP hasn’t been opened, and it’s not meant to be open. Dream is the one who controls the portal, and he hasn’t opened it yet, so I don’t know why he would want it in this one”

They all ran the information through their heads, each trying to fit the final piece of the puzzle together. Techno and Wilbur both wore twin expressions, staring holes into the letter on the table.

Phil had lowered his head as he brought his fist up to his mouth, biting the edge of his thumb as he began to slowly pace back and forth behind his desk. Then, he suddenly stopped and his hand fell to his side. 

Techno and Wilbur looked up as Tommy softly whispered, “Dad?”

“Is something wrong,” Techno asked.

Phil shook his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing, and if it has any chance of helping Tommy you should tell us,” Wilbur pressed.

Phil hesitated, wings tensing under his cloak. “I remembered something from before that might explain why Dream wants to go to the End, and possibly how the swap could’ve occurred.”

They all nodded, urging him to continue, and Phil sighed, “Most people think that the reason the End was so dangerous was the dragon, but that’s not really the case. There’s something else in the End, something much more horrifying and dangerous than that dragon ever was, something that probably caused all those men before me to fall.”

“Was it the endermen?” Tommy asked hesitantly.

“No,” Phil chuckled, “They’re dangerous, but mostly peaceful as long as you leave them alone.”

“Then what was it?” Wilbur leaned forward, curious.

“The void.”

The three of them stared back confused. “The what?” Techno asked.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. A dark cold void that rests beneath the End islands. If you were to peer over the edge, you’d find it staring back. It’s the beginning and the end, and everything in between. The void is the universe itself, and it calls to all who find their way into its presence.”

Phil turned his back to them, staring out of the window, “It was,” he paused, “very tempting to listen to it. It was like these tiny whispers in my mind, louder than my own thoughts, calling me to the edge. I remember I had my bow aimed at one of the towers, vision locked on my target, and the next thing I knew I was staring at it.”

Tommy froze. Whispers. That sounded familiar.

“I had the universe staring back at me, and all I wanted, all it asked me to do was touch it and it could be mine.” Phil shuddered, “I almost did. The idea of controlling the universe is enticing to many.”

“What did you do?” Techno asked.

“How did you snap out of it,” Wilbur’s words overlapped.

Phil shrugged, “Pure luck. The dragon’s roar shook the ground, and it must have knocked me off my feet. I scraped my palm against the stone, and it was enough to bring me back. The whispers were still there, but it became easier to ignore once I remembered why I was there.

“Then I killed the dragon, and the whispers stopped. For a moment, I thought it was over, that I had escaped the void’s grasp,” his father’s wings spread, stretching across the room, and he stared at them with a sad smile, “Then I got these. A piece of the void forever attached to my back, a blessing and a curse for slaying the dragon.”

His wings fell back under his cloak, hidden from sight. “The void called to me again, one last time, but I knew better than to listen. Even with my wings, if I attempted to touch the void, to mess with the universe itself, I’d never escape.”

He walked around his desk and kneeled down before them. “So I left, and I made a vow to keep anyone from ever entering the End again, to save them from hearing the void’s call, from falling prey to the false promise of ultimate power.” He reached for the letter behind him. 

“And now, that vow is being challenged by some fool, hungry for that promise of ultimate power. He doesn’t know what he is messing with, especially when he threatened you three.”

The anger in his father’s eyes was something Tommy had forgotten ever could’ve existed. It wasn’t an anger driven by feelings Tommy had seen countless times in his world. Feelings of pride and betrayal. 

No, this anger was brought on by something more lasting than those feelings, something which drove a person to drop all regard for themselves and protect that which they hold dear. It was a selfless anger, that Tommy had found himself the subject of more times than he could remember. 

An anger which drove Tommy to challenge his greatest enemy to a duel. An anger which drove Tommy to foolishly jump into a pit to fight his brother. An anger which, at the end of it all, was driven by Tommy’s love for the people around him. A love which was driving the anger behind Phil’s eyes at this very moment. 

Phil turned his attention to Tommy specifically. “The second he brought your lives into this, was the second he signed away his own.”

Tommy’s eyes widened as the words passed over them. It was a vow Tommy hadn’t been surprised to hear but unsettled him nonetheless. He knew what Dream was capable of, and while he was fairly certain that the Dream in this universe didn’t have power through arbitrary titles, he was still dangerous. Going up against him was truly a bad idea, and it shook Tommy to his core to hear his family so flippant in their declarations against him.

It scared Tommy, as he stared into his father’s eyes, as he felt the presence of Wilbur and Techno at his side. It scared Tommy more than he cared to admit, because…

He didn’t want to lose this.

He didn’t want them to attack Dream and fail. He didn’t want to have to watch Wilbur’s body fall still ever again. He didn’t want to watch his brother and father grow to hate him because of this. He doesn’t think he could bear it.

However, of all the outcomes Tommy could imagine, there was one scarier than them all.

He didn’t want them to attack Dream, and win; he didn’t want to be sent back.

The thought had passed through his mind a couple of times since he’d arrived, but he’d never acknowledged it. Never wanted to admit that the whispers were right . That a part of him wanted to stay so badly, and the thought of losing it, of losing a version of his family he so desperately missed, would ruin him.

Yet, Tommy would never forgive himself if he allowed the other version of himself to lose this as well, so he swallowed down his fear and quietly asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

Phil stood and dusted his hands down his robes. “Well,” he hummed, “I’m not fully sure. I have a couple of ideas, but nothing solid yet.” He set the letter down once more on the desk, turning to glance up through the windows. “Anyways, it's almost noon. We should get some food before we plan anything else.”

Tommy slumped a little in his chair, disappointed. Wilbur, however, jumped from his seat, stretching his arms above his head. “Thank god,” he grinned, “I swear, I could eat a whole pig right now.”

Techno’s head turned so fast, Tommy was sure it would’ve fallen off. “Are you seriously suggesting cannibalism?”

Wilbur chuckled and waved his finger condescendingly in Techno’s face, who looked two seconds away from ripping the appendage off from Wilbur’s hand. “No. Piglins and pigs are biologically different, and anyway, it would be partial-cannibalism at worst.”

“What,” Techno shook his head, “What are you even saying? Piglins and zombified piglins are also biologically different, but you can’t deny they’re related,” He stood up from his chair. “It’s still cannibalism!”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, making his way out of their father’s office. “ Partial cannibalism, Techno. Or did you forget that we’re hybrids?”

Techno ran his hands down his face in frustration, before following close behind his twin. “It’s still cannibalism, Wilbur! There’s no such thing as partial cannibalism!” he yelled.

“Oh don’t get all morally superior on me. What are you vegan ?” he spat.

The door shut behind them but Tommy could hear Techno’s yell of, “Heh?” through the wood. He turned back to face the desk to find Phil looking exasperated. 

“We’re having steak today,” he sighed, and Tommy couldn’t control the wheezing laughter that exploded from his chest with joining in soon after. Once they caught their breath, Phil walked past, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Come on, we need to make sure they don’t kill each other.”

Tommy chuckled, pushing himself up from his chair and following his dad out the door. Before they could make their way to the dining room, however, a guard intercepted them.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” he bowed, “I was just sent to deliver this to Prince Tommy.” The guard presented his hand with a small pristine communicator laid gently in his palm.

Tommy beamed, quickly grabbing the communicator and placing his thumb on the reader. “Thank you so much!”

The guard nodded and bowed once more before disappearing down the hall. The communicator beeped, the indicator flashing green, and the screen lit up with the menu. Prince Tommy’s communicator already had his family’s contacts synced with his fingerprint. Though, there was another contact that Tommy wanted to add.

Tommy smiled and glanced up to Phil. “Would it be alright if I invited someone to lunch?”

“Is this ‘someone’ the infamous Tubbo I have been hearing about?” he asked teasingly.

Tommy nodded excitedly, and Phil chuckled and gestured to the communicator, “Sure.”

As soon as the words left his dad’s mouth, Tommy’s fingers frantically moved across the keypad as he typed out a message to a familiar contact.

-

Not even an hour later, the four of them found themselves at the gates of the castle as a small carriage pulled up. Tommy was practically bouncing on his feet, as a guard went to open the door.

He felt a hand settle on his shoulder. “If you keep doing that, your feet are gonna fall off.” 

Tommy settled down, but not without murmuring a quiet, “Fuck off,” in his brother’s direction. It wasn’t his fault he was excited, and well, anxious. He hadn’t seen Tubbo since he’d given him his communicator, and before that, it had been with his friend staring him down as he was led from L’manburg by Dream.

He knew, logically, that this Tubbo wasn’t going to be exactly like the Tubbo he knew, but, deep down, he believed that the boy who bumped into him was the same boy he grew up with, he fought with, the same boy who was Tommy’s best friend.

The carriage door opened, and a pair of tattered shoes were visible beneath the door. Then a familiar green shirt with the buttons done up wrong stepped out from behind the door and Tommy had to stop himself from running.

Whether he wanted to run to or away from Tubbo, he couldn’t tell.

Thankfully, Phil stepped forward and extended a hand to the, clearly overwhelmed, boy. “Hello,” he smiled, “you must be Tubbo. Thank you for coming all the way up here. I know Tommy has been very excited to see you again,” they both turned and looked at Tommy who was desperately trying to hide behind his brothers.

Wilbur and Techno were not having any of it, though, as they pushed Tommy in front of them and held him there with twin smug expressions. He struggled for a couple moments more before shyly waving to the boy in front of him. 

Tubbo awkwardly waved back as Phil cackled. Phil eventually calmed down and brought his hand up once more, “As I was saying, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Tubbo’s attention was drawn back to the King, and his eyes went wide before he settled into a deep bow. “Thank you for inviting me. It is an honour to be here, Your Highness.”

Phil chuckled, gently grabbing the boy’s shoulder and raising him up. “It’s quite alright, mate, and please, just call me Phil.”

The boy nodded before Phil continued, “We were just about to eat lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“Uh,” Tubbo hesitated, looking back at the three princes standing behind Phil. The two older princes were looking at him with curiosity, the brown-haired one giving him a small reassuring smile. The youngest prince, however, was looking at Tubbo with what he could only describe as hope. 

A part of it unnerved Tubbo. He’d never met the boy before yesterday, but the way the prince spoke to him, the way he looked at him, it felt familiar to Tubbo. Maybe in another life, in another world, they knew each other before today. Maybe they were more than strangers.

Maybe they were friends.

That did sound nice. Friends. 

Tubbo smiled and shrugged, “Sure.” 

-

The guards escorted them to the dining hall where five plates with freshly prepared steak were laid on the table. Tommy and his family took their normal seats, leaving a single chair next to Tommy open.

Tommy glanced up to Tubbo who was hesitating at the edge of the table. Wilbur and Techno had already dug into their meals, while Phil was slowly cutting into his steak. Tommy gestured to the chair next to him. 

“You can sit down if you want. I know Wilbur’s face is horrific, but I promise he’s harmless.”

The sound of silverware clattering against a plate is covered up by Tubbo’s loud giggle as he settled into his seat. Tommy smiled and turned to find Techno grasping Wilbur’s wrist as his twin attempted to point his steak knife towards Tommy. Tommy laughed, “See. He’s harmless! He can’t even get past Techno.”

Wilbur and Techno both froze as the latter turned to glare at Tommy. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tommy, unafraid of death, smugly replied, “Exactly what you think it does, dickhead.”

Techno didn’t hesitate in dropping Wilbur’s wrist in favour of reaching for his own steak knife. “You’re dead, kid,” he stated as he and Wilbur wore twin smirks. Tommy grabbed his own knife and rose from his seat, prepared to retaliate. 

“Stop! Don’t forget we have company,” Phil quickly jumped in. They all froze as their eyes moved to the boy at the edge of the table. Tommy was worried that Tubbo would be uncomfortable, but when they turned, Tubbo was only laughing at their antics. 

They relaxed and the three of them settled back into their seats, a temporary truce while they finished the rest of their lunch in peace. They began to dig into their steak in a comfortable silence for a couple of moments before Phil placed his silverware down and addressed their guest.

“So, Tubbo, I’m afraid I don’t know that much about you. Tell me about yourself.”

Tubbo chuckled nervously, “I’m not sure what to say.”

“Well, what’s your life like? What do you like to do?”

“Um,” he paused, thinking, “I guess I enjoy tinkering with things.”

“Oh,” Phil’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “that’s interesting. Anything interesting you’ve done recently?”

“Yep!” Tubbo nodded, before pulling out the communicator Tommy had gifted him just the day before. The small device was painted a dull yellow, but Tommy could still see signs of the red paint beneath from when the communicator was still in Tommy’s possession. “I fixed it up after Tommy gave it to me.” 

He turned the screen of the communicator to face the rest of the table as he scrolled through the menu. “I added some new features like a map of the village and a game!” 

He selected the option for the game and a small snake icon appeared on the screen and began to move. The snake moved around the screen and began to eat the small dots as it grew larger and larger.

All of them were on the edge of their seats as they watched Tubbo navigate the game. Eventually, the snake ran into its long body and a giant “Game Over” appeared on the screen. Wilbur gasped and slammed his hands on the table in excitement, “You have to do that with mine! That’s fucking sick!”

Tubbo nodded, giggling at Wilbur’s excitement and Techno asked, “How did you know how to do that?”

“I didn’t,” Tubbo shrugged, “I just messed with it.”

Techno and Wilbur released twin sounds of shock as Phil breathed, “Wow. That’s really impressive.”

Tubbo flushed slightly under the praise and murmured a small, “Thank you.”

“What else can you do?” Wilbur asked.

“Well,” Tubbo exited the game and returned to the main menu, selecting the map option he’d mentioned earlier, “You know how I said I’d made a map of the village?” 

They nodded, and he turned the communicator around to show them a pixelated map on the screen. “Well, right now it’s just a map, but I think, with the use of some other tech I could salvage, I could make it so I could set up points on the map that would notify me through the communicator if there is any interesting activity.”

“What kind of activity would you be looking for?” Techno asked.

“Just basic things. Mainly movement, since it’d be easy to set up sensors in certain places. I’d be able to get a message every time it detects something in a certain spot.”

Techno and Wilbur’s eyes lit up in amazement, and even Tommy had to admit he was impressed. He knew Tubbo had a knack for anything scientific, always looking to mess with things in the hopes of making it better, but this was insane.

Phil, on the other hand, looked pensive as he stared at the boy in front of him. “You’re from the village, right?” Tubbo nodded, and Phil hummed, thinking for a moment before he continued, “What exactly in the village do you need to track for its activity?”

Without missing a beat, Tubbo replied, “The stronghold.”

They all froze. 

“The stronghold?” Phil pressed.

Tubbo must have noticed the change in their expressions as he looked up because he immediately smiled tensely as he continued, “Well, to be fair, your Majesty. The village has gone half-mad with worry about what’s going on. People are speculating that you are planning on opening the portal again, or that you’re worried about someone else doing so. You can’t blame me for being curious.” 

He ended his explanation with a small chuckle as if it was merely just a silly conspiracy. Phil, however, slumped back in his chair, deep in thought. His face was shrouded in worry as he processed the information.

The people were restless, and there wasn’t much they could do to prevent it. If the King ignored his people, then it would allow the rumours to grow. If he denied any accusations, it would sow distrust amongst his people, and if he told them the truth, the kingdom would fall into a panic. 

They were trapped.

Phil rubbed his hands across his face and sighed, “I didn’t consider this.”

Wilbur and Techno looked to be in not much better of a state. Techno was frustratedly twirling one of his rings around his finger while Wilbur anxiously fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

“What should we do?” Wilbur asked.

Techno huffed, “There’s nothing we can do. We’re stuck.”

“I know, Techno! I just…” the words died on Wilbur’s lips as he stared frustratedly into the table. The air was tense at the table. With the rest of his family overrun with worry, Tommy took a moment to glance at Tubbo.

Tubbo was glancing curiously around the table, a small trace of guilt crossed his features as he met Tommy’s eyes. Though, Tommy didn’t blame any of them. They were well and truly fucked. 

They needed to reassure the people and bring them together without actually letting them know what was actually happening. They needed to make the people happy, but what made people happy?

Tommy rested his elbow on the table and laid his head against his palm. He traced his nail against the wood, watching his finger twirl around the table like an intricate dance, a single dancer left swaying in an empty ballroom.

Wait.

“What if we held a ball?” Tommy asked.

The rest of his family sat up in different variations of surprise.

“What?” Wilbur asked as he stared at Tommy with a perplexed expression.

“A ball? You know those things where people dance. Like a party.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “Tommy, I don’t think-“

“No,” Phil cut him off, “I think that might be a good idea.”

“Dad,” Wilbur stressed urgently, “you can’t be serious.”

Phil shook his head and stood up from the table, “No. I think it’s brilliant. We can keep the people happy, and it gives us an opportunity to focus our attention on the situation at hand.”

He smiled and clapped his hands together. “Well, it looks like I have some work to do. Tubbo,” he looked to the boy who stared back with a nervous smile, “thank you for bringing this to my attention. Tommy, why don’t you give him a tour around.”

With that, he turned and left with Wilbur and Techno rushing to follow closely behind, most likely prepared to question their Dad’s judgement more. Though, they all knew it wouldn’t work. When Phil set his mind to an idea, it was going to happen.

Tommy turned to Tubbo and stood up, smiling as he reached a hand down. “Come on, I have something to show you!”

Tubbo grabbed his hand, and Tommy beamed as he pulled them from the dining room. He took them all across the castle. Making up crazy stories about every random thing he saw.

He took them to the library, the throne room, the bedrooms, the grand hall, and just about anywhere else that Tommy knew off the top of his head.

Finally, they made their way down one final corridor until they reached a glass door at the end.

“This is the last one. I promise,” Tommy said.

Tubbo nodded, cheeks still red from them running around the castle. Tommy smiled before slowly pushing the door open.

They stepped into a room covered in every flower known to man, the room a cacophony of bright colours and floral scents. Tubbo let out a quiet gasp as he stared in awe of the room. He slowly turned around as he took in every sight.

“This,” Tommy walked forward, “is the garden. Since we’re in the Arctic, we can’t really have a proper one, but Dad built this greenhouse for Techno years ago to foster all the plants and little creatures the world had to offer.”

Even though Techno had told him just hours before while they prepared for Tubbo’s arrival, Tommy recited the information with ease as if he’d known it for years. Tubbo nodded in response hovering over the small line of allium flowers.

Tommy already knew the answer before he asked, “Are those your favourite?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo nodded quickly. He turned around with a smile, “They smell a little weird, but I think they’re cool anyways.”

Tommy reached behind Tubbo and plucked a single allium by the stem. He gave it an exaggerated sniff and let his face twist up in discomfort as the distinct smell of garlic filled his senses. Tubbo threw his head back and laughed at the sight, and Tommy couldn’t stop the smile crossing his face.

They began to walk around the garden once more, letting Tubbo stop at each new row of plants to gawk at each one. Eventually, they made their way to the back of the gardens where a large line of poppies laid before them. 

They paused as Tubbo spun around once more to look at the greenhouse once more. He had the largest smile Tommy hadn’t seen since before exile, before the election, hell, even before the original war itself.

It was nice to see him so happy again.

“This place is so amazing,” Tubbo breathed, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Tommy smiled, twirling the allium around his fingers, “It’s fine. I’m glad you enjoy it. At least someone else other than Techno can appreciate it.”

Tubbo giggled, still looking around them. Tommy let his attention drift to the scene around them. There was a subtle buzzing present around them, and Tommy was quickly snapped out of his daze by Tubbo’s gasp.

“Bees!” he beamed, “I love bees!”

He leaned down to peer at the line of poppies staring at the small fuzzy black and yellow creature gently nestled in the red petals. Tommy laughed at his friend’s excitement. An almost verbatim declaration as one Tommy had heard years ago in his own world. 

Tubbo cringed slightly as he stood, “Sorry. I get excited.”

“It’s fine, man,” Tommy chuckled, waving his hands in reassurance.

Tubbo nodded, going back to studying the bee. Tommy rocked anxiously on his heels staring at his friend, allowing the allium in his hands to dance between his fingers.

“Speaking of,” he spoke watching Tubbo’s head lift slightly to show he was listening, “how would you like to stay here?”

Tubbo’s head shot up from the bed of flowers as he let out a quiet yelp of “What?!”

“How would you feel if you stayed here? Like permanently?”

He could see the words swirl in Tubbo’s head as his eyes darted frantically between Tommy’s own searching for any sign that he was messing with him.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything. You could just live in the castle, but we could use your help with your tech if you wanted, and you could come visit the gardens whenever you wanted!” Tommy frantically spoke, watching Tubbo slowly process the information. He gripped the allium tighter in his fist as he sighed, “Also, it would be nice to have a friend around here.”

Tubbo’s eyes went wide at that as he glanced down at the allium still nestled in Tommy’s hands. He stared for a moment longer before a small smile grew on his face. “Friends,” he whispered, mostly to himself, letting the word settle in the air around them before he nodded with a bright smile, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Tommy beamed and gently laid the allium among the bed of poppies before quickly grabbing Tubbo’s hand. “Come on,” he urged brightly, “We have so much to do!”

Chapter Text

Once more, the cabin fell into somewhat of a routine. Tommy, Techno, and Phil continued their chores while Wilbur was mainly left to his own devices in the cabin while he recovered. 

At first, Tommy worried that being confined to the inside Techno’s cabin would grate on Wilbur’s nerves. He assumed the man would be itching to plan, to scheme, to cause as much mischief as possible. Tommy thought that Wilbur would want to leave, to prepare for whatever new grand idea or purpose he wished to pursue.

But Wilbur didn’t do any of that.

Each day they would all rise with the sun and prepare to set off for their daily tasks. Wilbur would climb the small ladder from the basement and settle on the couch, staring blankly out the window as the rest of them left through the door with a small wave or a short call of goodbye. Then they would return to find Wilbur. A Wilbur who had not moved an inch since they departed that morning. 

It worried them. 

Namely Phil. He threw himself into gathering supplies, coming home with extra firewood to make sure Wilbur didn’t get too cold in the basement, going on adventures for more wool or other fabrics from villages to help stitch together a new cloak for Wilbur or more clothes if he would like.

They also found themselves each night seated around the small table in Techno’s kitchen for dinner. It was the one time Tommy could pull them all together, if even for an hour, and that hour was tense.

If Tommy thought the silence to be suffocating when he first arrived at Techno’s cabin, this silence was crushing. 

Techno seemed too exhausted with having to carry the weight of another person at the cabin to even hold a conversation. Phil seemed much too interested in his own plate, cutting his steak into such small pieces Tommy was sure he would reach atoms before the meal was finished.

And Wilbur just sat there. 

It made Tommy want to scream, to yell at his family to pull themselves together and to just let things be the way they should be. Every step forward in this universe was met with two steps back, and it made Tommy want to cry more than anything else.

He just wanted to have dinner with his family. He just wanted to joke and tell insane stories with his brothers. He wanted to hear his family laugh at his antics. He wanted to see his dad shake his head fondly as they argued but only as a show.

He missed his family so much.

Yet here they were in front of him. Maybe not the exact version he remembered. Maybe not the same people he knew, but the people he loved nonetheless.

So Tommy just talked. He allowed whatever random thought which entered his mind to leave his lips and watched as his family listened. Techno rolled his eyes fondly at his teasing jabs. Phil let a small smile grace his face whenever Tommy would recall one of his memories in the castle.

It made the smile on Tommy’s face grow. His stories grew more extravagant, more exaggerated until he was telling the story of how Tommy adopted a small spider as a pet without telling anyone. A couple of weeks later Tommy woke to find a whole cluster of baby spiders crawling across every surface in his room. 

He didn’t plan on telling anyone until Techno had come looking for the boy only to find his brother covered in the small insects. Techno had left the room screaming his head off, alerting every guard in the castle and causing their father to rush to Tommy’s room in a panic. Tommy swore his father almost fainted when he opened the door to his youngest’s room.

Phil chuckled and he rolled his eyes while Techno let out an annoyed huff. However, a much louder, much more familiar sound covered their reactions. Tommy looked across the table in shock to meet the sight of Wilbur with his head tossed back as he laughed at Tommy’s story.

Tommy beamed as he stared at his brother. It was the first time since he’d been in this world that he’d seen Wilbur smile without a hint of tension, the first time he heard Wilbur laugh without an air of bitterness behind it, the first time Wilbur was just as he remembered.

Wilbur met his eyes, and for a moment Tommy let himself relax. For a moment, it was just Tommy and Wilbur, no titles or roles they had to play, just them. 

Wilbur’s eyes softened and his laughter slowly died until all that was left was a small smile as he stared back at his younger brother. There was a tiny twist at the edge of his smile that spoke not of bitterness or anger, but pure mischief. A mischief that although it would usually make those at the table weary of Wilbur’s next scheme, only brought joy to their expressions. An expression that told them that Wilbur was back.

Then, as if sensing their attention on him, the warmth drained from Wilbur’s eyes. His soft smile was quickly replaced with a twisted scowl as glanced around the table. 

He quickly pushed himself from his seat. As he walked away, Phil pushed himself up as well with a soft call of, “Wilbur, wait!”

“I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to sleep,” he replied coldly before disappearing down the ladder to the basement.

-

After the failed attempt at dinner, Wilbur had returned to his typical routine of appearing upstairs right as they left for their chores and disappearing as soon as they returned.

Even though nothing had really changed around the cabin, something broke between them after that dinner. Phil had found every excuse he could to pick up extra chores, rushing around in a desperate attempt to keep busy, in a desperate attempt to pretend things were okay.

Techno, on the other hand, spent the next day entirely locked up in his room. Phil tried to speak with him, but the man just ignored him, too invested in whatever he was working on to open the door.

Tommy inevitably ended up outside Techno’s door holding a steaming plate of vegetables. He raised his fist to knock and waited until he heard a quiet huff of acknowledgement before prying open the door and stepping inside.

“Dinner,” he said, gesturing with the plate even though Techno’s back was turned to him.

Techno reached to his side and silently cleared a small space on the desk. Tommy rolled his eyes and set the plate down. He glanced over Techno’s shoulder to find the desk covered in letters with familiar handwriting.

“What are you doing?”

Techno ignored him, moving on to the next letter.

“Oi dickhead,” he poked Techno on the forehead, “Dad’s worried about you.”

Techno flicked Tommy’s hand away, “He shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”

Tommy huffed before shoving the small batch of letters to one side of the desk and pushing the plate to the centre and pointing. Techno glared at him, but Tommy just continued to point at the plate. 

“Look,” he sighed, “I just got one brother back from the dead. I really don’t want to have to deal with your lame ghost because you decided you didn’t want to eat.”

Techno softens slightly as he sets the last letter down. “I’m not going to die, Tommy. I just need to sort some things out.”

Tommy gave a side glance to the letters cluttered at the end of the desk, “Well, you better figure it out fast. You know how Dad gets when he’s stressed, and he’s already working on plans to fix the dog house.”

Techno cringed, “That bad?” At Tommy’s nod, he sighed, “Well, you’re going to have to make sure he doesn’t do anything too rash for one more day. I’ll be gone for most of tomorrow.”

Tommy perked up at the admission, “You’re going somewhere? Can I come too?” 

Techno rolled his eyes and shook his head, “No,” he laughed as Tommy slumped slightly at the words, “It’s not a nice place to go, kid. Trust me.”

That made Tommy’s head shoot up. Techno paused from where he had lifted his fork. The steam from the vegetables fogged up his glasses, and Techno sighed before placing them fully down on the table. 

“It’s not dangerous,” he glanced at the letters at the edge of the desk, “just some bad memories.” 

Tommy let his gaze drift to the letters. He couldn’t make out the words written on the old parchment, but he knew instantly who penned the familiar twirling patterns of ink. 

Wilbur was always so pretentious with his writing. Always making sure to ensure every hoop, every dot, every dash were perfect. 

It didn’t come naturally to Wilbur, not like it did Techno, whose handwriting had been elegant and princely since their instructors had first shoved a pen in his hands. 

No, Wilbur had to practice. Spending hours hunched over a long sheet of parchment, glancing between it and an old essay of Techno’s, meticulously rewriting every letter til it was to satisfaction. 

Even still, Wilbur wasn’t meant to have swirling, neat handwriting. When he had an idea too good to wait the extra 10 minutes it took to write it out properly when he was too tired and his hand couldn’t hold the pen the way he trained it, or when he got too stressed to care about his writing, Wilbur’s penmanship reverted back to its original state.

No longer were the letters grand, with their big arches and elegant twists, but they were simple, scrawled scratches on the parchment, barely legible to the untrained eye. 

While the letters on the desk mostly contained the elegant penmanship, Tommy would expect from his brother. There was a single shorter letter, delicately placed to the side, which contained the familiar scrawled lettering. 

Tommy leaned further towards the letter, squinting his eyes to make out the shape of the writing better. 

Techno grunted beside him before giving him a firm shove off the desk. “Didn’t anyone ever give you a lesson in personal space?” he said gruffly, “You said you were raised in a castle, but I have reason to believe it must have been a barn with how you act.”

Tommy opened his mouth to argue, but Techno only pointed to the door, “Shoo. I’ll be back tomorrow. Get some rest, and make sure Dad doesn’t kill himself before I get back.”

He gave a small glance back to his brother before he fully shut the door behind him. Techno’s back was hunched once more over the small desk. He’d placed his glasses back on and held a letter in his left hand while his right continued to scoop the now cold vegetables from his plate.

Tommy knew he was hovering, but he couldn’t just stand by and wait. It wasn’t what he did. He shook himself for a moment. 

Techno said that things would get better. He had to trust him.

Tommy gently shut the door and returned downstairs.

-

The next day, Techno disappeared as promised. Tommy also kept his promise to watch over Phil. The two of them took the day to tidy up around the cabin, running to and fro throughout the small house while Wilbur sat and watched from the couch. 

Phil made sure to light the fireplace and place a small quilt on the edge of the couch just in case Wilbur got cold.

The blankets lay untouched, but Tommy sometimes noticed his brother subtly leaning closer to the warmth of the fire while he thought they weren’t looking.

By the time the sun began to set, no inch of the cabin had been left untouched by Phil’s anxious hands. Tommy coaxed him to sit in the small chair next to the fire while he tended to the flames. 

The warmth from the flames burned at his face, but Tommy couldn’t suppress a small shiver at the cold gaze he felt on his back. He gave a subtle glance over his shoulder.

Phil had long since fallen asleep, resting his cheek against his fist propped up on the arm of the chair. Wilbur was wide awake. The twisting flames reflected in his stare did nothing to bring back the warmth Tommy once knew to reside in his brother’s gaze. Wilbur’s stare was cold, empty. 

It was wrong.

The sound of the door handle rattling and the feel of the chill Arctic wind drifted through the cabin. Phil immediately woke up, and Tommy stood up to meet his brother at the door.

Techno trudged his way into the cabin with a small sack nestled in his arms and a strap thrown over his shoulder. He dropped the sack on the table with a quiet huff.

“What’d you bring back?” Tommy asked peering around Techno to catch a glimpse of the contents of the sack.

“Just some stuff from a dungeon I found.”

Phil perked up at that. “A dungeon? Did you find a-“

Techno shook his head, “Only the usual loot. Though I did find something else.”

He reached into the bag and pulled a small disk out. Tommy’s eyes widened as Techno placed the disk in his hands. 

The disk had a light blue ring around the centre, but Tommy didn’t recognize the name of it. Back in his world, he had a whole chest of disks in his room. Most of them came as gifts from his family throughout the years.

Tommy remembered sitting by the fireplace with the sweet melody of Cat floating through the room. He’d close his eyes and drift off to the music, eventually slumping against one of his family members until the last embers of the fire died out, and he was sent off to bed.

He wondered if this Tommy ever listened to disks like that.

“Wait,” Techno said.

Tommy looked up confused, “What?”

“The disk is called ‘Wait’.”

Tommy nodded, brushing his thumb against the small ring of blue plastic. He glanced back at this brother, “Do you have a pen?”

Techno jerked his head in the direction of the living room. He hurried into the room, disk clutched in his hand and quickly recovered the pen. Tommy snickered quietly to himself as he scrawled the words “Techno’s Disk” on the small ring before setting it gently to the side. 

He’d have to ask Techno about getting a jukebox sometime.

“You’re not going to put it in your enderchest?”

Tommy’s head jerked up to find Wilbur leaning forward in interest. “No,” he gently shook his head, “Why would I?”

An unidentifiable look crossed Wilbur’s face before he merely hummed. 

“Hey, Wil,” Techno’s voice came from the doorway as he pulled the strap from over his shoulder before tossing the item towards Wilbur. “Catch.”

Wilbur caught it easily, staring down at the guitar in his lap with a mirage of expressions. Confusion, shock, and regret flashed by until finally, a small but undeniable smile settled on his face.

“Found it in that old cave,” Techno continued, “Thought you’d want it now that you’re back.”

Wilbur’s fingers twitched against the strings letting a muffled note ring through the air. Even though it’d been almost a year since such a note had been played on the instrument, the familiar noise filled the cabin and caused them all to relax slightly. It felt warm. It felt nice.

It felt like coming home.

Wilbur, however, gave a slight grimace at the noise, pressing his fingers harshly against the strings to cut off the echoing noise. He slowly stood, “I’m tired.”

Phil looked up from his seat, a false sense of optimism covering his features, “Aw c’mon, mate. I bet you’re dying to play again. Why don’t you play us something?”

Wilbur’s fingers tensed so tightly around the neck of the guitar that if the instrument could breathe it would certainly suffocate. Yet, only Wilbur looked as if the air had been ripped from his lungs. He twisted from where he went to rest the guitar, eyes flaring with a dull flame.

“Why?” he seethed, “Do you want to ignore what’s right in front of you again? Pretend that everything’s perfect until you can’t anymore, and then when you finally do something right, you go back on it like the coward you are?”

Techno stepped forward, arms raised placatingly, “Wilbur, it’s just a guitar.”

“It’s not about the fucking guitar, Techno,” he whirled around, “It’s about me! Why did you have to bring me back? I didn’t want this! I didn’t want any of this!”

Wilbur’s attention focused on Phil, who was sat in shock at his son’s words. A small smile graced itself on Wilbur’s face as he stepped closer to the fireplace, the inferno is his eyes now raging in sync with the flames before him. 

The guitar in his hands was held delicately close to the flames, “You made a mistake bringing me back,” he sneered, eyes dancing between the three of them, smile growing as he watched the disappointment grow in his family’s eyes. This was what he always knew, what a part of him once feared, but what he now revelled in. 

He could see the thinly veiled frustration in Techno’s expression, the stark shame and disapproval in Phil’s subtle shake of his head, and then there was Tommy.

Wilbur had categorized every expression Tommy made back in Pogtopia. Every furrow of his brow, and downturn of his lips. Every shouted objection. Every moment where those exact expressions changed. Moments where Tommy’s eyes went wide and his fists held a subtle shake that he couldn’t contain no matter how hard he clenched them. Moments where Tommy stared at his brother with nothing but pure fear.

It used to make him want to cry to see his little brother look at him like that, but that he killed that version of him before it prevented him from killing the rest of what remained of him.

Not like it mattered anymore, standing before his brother once more, the only good part of him still dead with the rest still walking around. A horrific joke, if you were to ask him. 

It wouldn’t be hard to die again, he supposed. Old habits die hard, and he certainly wasn’t dead yet. 

He looked for it one last time, that subtle trembling of his brother’s hands, that wide-eyed look which bounced along the walls unsure of if he should fight or flee. 

But it wasn’t there.

No matter how hard he looked, there was no trace of fear in his brother’s expression. 

The fire in Wil’s eyes was quickly snuffed out as he clutched the guitar tighter in his fist. He hated them for bringing back this part of him. The part that cared too deeply, the part which took one look at his little brother and was willing to tear the world to pieces for him, the part of him which, as much as he hated it, wanted to live.

Wilbur looked at this Tommy. A Tommy who shouldn’t be the same, but still retained that same small furrow to his brow and downturn of his lips. A Tommy who had the same wheezing laugh. A Tommy who still loved his discs, and his family, and the world with that same burning wonder that Wilbur missed so much. 

Wilbur looked at this Tommy and wanted to live.

Huffing in frustration, he turned away from the flames and threw the guitar into the corner of the room before pushing through Phil and Techno. “I’m going to bed,” he said before disappearing down the ladder.

Phil quickly rushed forward towards the guitar, gently cradling it in his arms as if it were his own child, fussing over it for any dents or damages. He sighed in relief when the guitar appeared mostly normal, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed him.”

“You’re fine, Phil. I shouldn’t have brought the guitar back. I guess I just thought things would be…” the words go unsaid, but Tommy can guess what he meant.

He thought things would be easier.

He thought things would be better.

He thought things would be normal.

It wasn’t an assumption Tommy couldn’t necessarily blame his brother for. They’d all seen it, the small glimpses of normalcy from Wilbur which were quickly squashed by the harsh reminder of whatever plagued his thoughts. It was enough to make them pray for some miracle to fix what had been broken. To make things go back to the way they once were.

Wilbur didn’t need a miracle though. He needed help.

And deep down, each of them knew that.

Tommy shivered-whether from the chilling silence settling in the air around them or from the lack of fire which had long since been snuffed out from the fireplace, he couldn’t tell.

Phil sighed and gently laid the guitar safely on the couch, right where Wilbur had previously sat. He brushed his hands down his robes, glancing subtly back at the guitar.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. Although the words should’ve been reassuring, they came out as more of a plea. A plea to the universe to listen, to let them rest for just one moment.

Although, it was rarely ever that simple.

A loud knock from the front door echoed through the house. Tommy attempted to get a glimpse through the kitchen window, but Techno quickly blocked his view.

“Techno,” his dad stepped forward, “were you expecting visitors?”

His brother let out a frustrated huff, “No, but I guess some people don’t get the memo.” He stomped towards the door, peering through the window to the small porch outside before he froze. “Tommy, I want you to go downstairs and get out of sight.”

Tommy blubbered for a second, confused, “What? Why?” 

Techno drew his sword, “Just do it!” he growled. 

Tommy went to protest but a soft grip in the crook of his elbow made him pause. He turned to find Phil giving him a small shake of his head, sword already in hand, as he led them to the ladder downstairs.

As soon as Tommy had reached out for the first rung, staring back at his father with a look of confusion, Phil sighed, “Go. Keep you and your brother safe. Techno and I have it covered up here.” With that, he smiled one last time before returning to Techno’s side and leaving Tommy to descend into the basement alone.

He slowly climbed down the ladder, the chill air of the basement making him shiver with each rung. He could feel the stare of his brother against his back, but he pushed on, focusing all his attention on keeping his grip steady against the rough wood under his fingers.

“Did you come down here to tell me to apologize?” Wilbur sneers from his perch on the cold mattress still resting in the corner of the basement. They intended to move Wilbur upstairs, but his brother protested, wanting to stay among the suffocating stone.

Phil felt guilty, so he loaded the mattress with as many blankets as he could find, wanting to make sure his child was comfortable even in the crypt where he rested. Though, they all knew that no amount of blankets could allow you to escape the chill that came from the pale stone, reminiscent of the worst of each of them.

Tommy shook his head and went to explain but the thundering sound of footsteps above their heads cut him off. He could hear Techno’s feet reach the door and his thinly veiled huff of frustration.

“What do you want, Dream?”

Dream?

What could Dream possibly want with Techno?

Wilbur stiffens across from him, but he still strains next to the ladder in order to hear the next words.

“Geez. What a way to greet a friend. Not even a hello?” Dream chuckles as if he and Techno were old friends.

Were they? Did Tommy miss something?

Techno shoots down that thought immediately as he repeats, “What do you want Dream?”

“Fine,” Dream huffs in frustration, “I was wondering if you had seen Tommy around lately.”

And the silence that followed was suffocating.

Dream was looking for him.

Why?

He felt a sharp grip surround his wrist as his brother hissed, “Tommy! You need to hide,” Wilbur tried to pull Tommy’s grip from the ladder, but Tommy wouldn’t budge.

He needed to hear this.

“I don’t know where Tommy is Dream. Now if you would please leave me to my retirement,” Tommy could hear the sound of the door closing before it was stopped in its tracks.

“Oh come on now, Techno. Don’t lie to me like that. We both know Tommy is here.”

Tommy can feel Techno rolling his eyes from here, “Listen Dream, I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know where Tommy is. Now if you could just…”

“Well if you don’t know where he is, you wouldn’t mind if I came in?”

Tommy’s breath leaves him as the words reach them. Wilbur’s grip tightens as he once again attempts to pull Tommy from the ladder. This time, Tommy’s hold on the ladder loosens and he’s drawn back into Wilbur’s chest.

Wilbur’s whispering to him, possibly trying to get Tommy to move further from the ladder, but the words fall deaf to Tommy’s ears. 

Before Wilbur can carry him far from the ladder he hears a second set of footsteps emerge from upstairs. 

“I think that’s enough, Dream.”

Dream chuckles, “Well I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be here, Philza. I’ve been meaning to ask by the way, how are the wings?”

Tommy doesn’t need to be able to see his father to know he’s already planning Dream’s murder in his head. The sound of a sword unsheathing confirms that fact.

“Leave, Dream.”

“Alright, alright,” the sound of footsteps retreating echoed above their heads, “I was hoping we’d get to chat before the big finale, but it doesn’t matter I guess. Tommy will know when he’s supposed to arrive. He always does.” With a small chuckle and the slam of a door, the cabin falls silent once more. 

Tommy can feel his brother sigh behind him as the tension in the room drains, but Wilbur continues to hold tight to his brother. He can hear the sound of Phil and Techno racing down the ladder towards them but Tommy is still frozen.

“Thank god you two are okay,” Phil breathes out as he reaches them instantly checking over every inch of them even as the words leave his mouth.

Techno is still standing next to the ladder looking up to the main floor every couple of seconds making sure that they are safe. The room falls silent and all eyes are turned to one. 

Phil leans closer, brow furrowed as his lips part silently. They all know the words he hesitates to speak. It’s the questions that have been running through all of their heads.

Why Tommy?

The worst part was that Tommy didn’t know.

Tommy didn’t know who Dream was aside from the faceless man who beat him to a pulp without reason upon waking up in this world. Tommy didn’t know how he got here, nor did he know the part he was meant to be playing in all of this. 

Tommy didn’t know how to help his family at all. 

He was completely useless. 

Phil must have noticed the look of panic on his face because his expression softened and he simply laid his hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“It’ll all be okay.”

Later, after Wilbur awkwardly released him and returned to staring at the cold concrete wall, Phil helped Tommy shuffle up the ladder and led him back to the couch. Phil seemed to retreat back into his overprotective father mode as he rushed around the cabin, wings fluffing up with each step, and began to pile any and all blankets he could find onto the couch. 

Tommy realized what his dad was doing probably before Phil even did. 

Guess the jokes his dad had made were more based in reality than he previously thought. 

It made Tommy chuckle under his breath, but after the fifth blanket piled over his already overheating form, Tommy grabbed his father’s wrist.

“Dad.” He had to repress his laughter at the way Phil’s head snapped around searching Tommy for any sign that he was in danger. “I’m fine.”

Phil’s eyes squinted, looking for any sign he was lying, but Tommy just smiled tensely. Not finding anything, Phil sighed, “Sorry. Just got lost in my head for a sec.”

Tommy threw the blankets off to the side and pointed upstairs, “I’ll be fine. Techno’s already been patrolling out, and the doors have been locked. Go to bed.”

Phil hesitated for only a moment. He turned subtly to check the lock to the front door one more time over his shoulder before relaxing. “I guess I do need my rest.”

“Yeah. Old people typically do.”

“Hey!” Tommy cackled as Phil swatted his shoulder. “I am not that old.” Phil couldn’t help but release a few chuckles of his own at his son’s laughter, but soon the moment calmed down and Phil ruffled Tommy’s hair. “Get some rest too, mate, and let me know if anything-”

“If anything happens. I know. I’ll be fine,” Tommy rolled his eyes, “Goodnight, dad.”

Phil flicked him on his head, “Goodnight to you too, you little shit.”

Phil disappeared up the steps, and Tommy leaned back against the exorbitant amount of pillows behind his head. He had to give Phil some credit; the small nest he’d assembled on the couch was actually pretty comfortable, and Tommy could feel his eyes drooping with exhaustion as he nestled closer towards the warmth around him. 

What a wild fucking day.

As soon as Tommy felt the shadows of rest creep over him, he felt a soft buzzing from his pocket. Groaning, he reached behind him blindly, pulling out the offending item. His eyes squinted, trying to make sense of the object in front of him until it buzzed once more and lit up.

It was his fucking communicator.

Tommy cursed anyone who was insane enough to try to contact him when the moon was already high in the sky. The light from the communicator burned as he tried to make sense of the words in front of him. 

Tubbo: meet me in l’manburg

Tubbo: we need to talk

For a moment, Tommy was confused, but soon the words sunk in and Tommy was left throwing himself out of the nest constructed for him. Without thinking Tommy ran to the front door, grabbing Techno’s spare cape and throwing it over his shoulders and slipping on his beat-up sneakers. 

He carefully lifted the lock and slipped outside before he realized it.

He had no idea where L’manburg was.

Sure, he had heard his dad and brothers mention it countless times, and the militia which arrived at their door claimed to be from there, but he didn’t remember which way they went besides running into the forest outside Techno’s house. 

Tommy huffed. He could just wander in the forest and hope he would stumble upon civilization eventually, but he’d most likely only end up getting frostbite and a trio of worried family members racing after him in the morning. 

He raised his head towards the stars above. Maybe whatever being that sent him here could lend a hand. He was sent here for a purpose, right? He couldn’t do anything if he didn’t have any help right?

Right, God?

“You know Dad’s gonna throw a fit if he finds you out here.”

Tommy jumped out of his skin, turning around finding Wilbur behind him, arms crossed with a shit-eating smirk on his face. 

“What are you doing out here Tommy?” Wilbur asked.

Tommy knew Wilbur probably wouldn’t snitch, but he also certainly wouldn't let Tommy go to L’manburg alone, not after the events of today. He sputtered out, “Well, I- I was just-” he searched the sky behind him desperate for an answer.

Wilbur chuckled, “Watching the stars?”

Tommy normally would have jumped at the excuse, but he couldn’t mask the confusion which passed over his face. Wilbur’s brows furrowed as his face twisted up into a scowl. 

“Right,” he huffed, “You’re the other Tommy.”

It was the first time Tommy had heard someone address the fact with anything more negative than confusion. Wilbur sounded annoyed at the reminder that the boy in front of him wasn’t who he remembered. 

“What did you mean by that?” Tommy asked before he could stop himself.

Wilbur shrugged, “Well you’re certainly not the Tommy from this universe are you?”

“No, not that” Tommy shook his head. “The stars, you’ve mentioned them before. What did you mean?”

Wilbur’s eyebrows rose in shock for a moment, but he soon smiled and walked next to Tommy. He pointed to the stars above them, “When we were younger, Tommy and I used to sneak out to this field behind the house and count the stars.” He laughed for a moment, “Don’t tell the other you this, but I mainly did it because it was the only way to make Tommy get tired. Worked every time.”

Tommy looked at the stars above them, the bright flickering lights intermingled with the pale white snow falling gently around them.

“Snowflakes,” Tommy whispered, “My Wilbur used to make me count snowflakes whenever I got too rowdy.”

Wilbur gave him a cheeky smile, “Well I must say, great minds do think alike.”

Tommy bumped his shoulder into Wilbur’s, “Don’t get too full of yourself. You both are dickheads in my book.”

They couldn’t contain it any longer as they both burst into matching bouts of laughter. Even though Tommy knew their noise was loud enough to probably wake both Techno and Phil, he didn’t care. He was having the most fun he’d had since arriving.

There was something about Wilbur, even in any universe, who could make any situation fun. 

They soon lapsed into silence, both of their eyes on the scene above. Tommy could see the way Wilbur’s eyes darted around and his lips moved silently, counting the stars. In his eyes, there was a sort of sadness that Tommy hadn’t truly noticed before, a grief that Tommy hadn’t accounted for when he first noticed his brother’s angst.

“You miss him. Don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation, just a plain stated fact, and Wilbur didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah,” Wilbur sighed, “I spent so long in the afterlife, in my own personal hell, missing him every second, wondering how he was doing, wishing I could talk to him for even just a moment, to know if he forgave me.”

He took a deep breath, running his hand down his face in frustration, “Then, I get revived against my wishes, and he isn’t even here! He’s gone, and we don’t even know how to get him back.”

At Tommy’s silence, he continues, “I did it all for him, you know? The nation, the war, the election. Even if I know it sounds fucked up, I blew it up for him. It was destroying us. Destroying me, and I was destroying him, so I took out two birds in one stone.

“I thought maybe, I could make it easier for myself and him if I left as I always supposed to-as a villain, but I guess I’ll never know. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me, but I just wish I could let him know…”

Tommy can’t take it anymore, the words bubble out of his throat before he can stop them, “I’m so sorry.”

Wilbur’s head whips towards him, eyes wide as he frantically speaks, “No, no, no. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I know,” Tommy nods, “I know, but I feel like nobody’s ever said that to you before, so I’m sorry. I’m sorry this story, this world didn’t turn out the way it should’ve. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through so much, all of you.”

The grief pooling in Wilbur’s eyes spilled over, and he frantically shook his head futilely trying to stop the tears flowing down his face. When that failed to work, Wilbur reached for the next thing closest to him, crushing Tommy to his chest. 

“God, Tommy,” he choked out, the words seeming to have been lodged in his throat for much too long, but now having the space to flow out in waves, “Thank you, I’m so sorry. I love you.”

Tommy smiled and he hugged back with just as much force, being rocked with the sharp movements of his brother’s chest. “I love you too, big man, but I think there’s someone else who needs to hear it more.”

Wilbur chuckles silently, not lessening his grip on his brother, “Right. We still need to get him back.”

“We will,” he assured, “We’ll get him back. Together.”

Wilbur pulled back slightly to smile at his little brother. Even in a different universe, that same spark remained, the little fire which drove the revolution and the rebellion and the countless escapades Wilbur had thrown himself into over the years. “Together,” he said and crushed his brother back into his chest and relished this first small moment of peace he’s had in a long while.

Though, a rough circular object pushed against his chest with the action and Wilbur traced his eyes to the metal chain and found his eyes lighting up in recognition, “I didn’t know he kept that,” he breathed.

Tommy looked confused for a moment, but Wilbur was already explaining, “I, or well the ghost version of me, gave Tommy that compass.”

Tommy reached and pulled out the small piece of metal that had been resting against his chest since he arrived. He’d honestly forgotten about it, the chill of the metal and the weight around his neck becoming normal as he went about his daily tasks. Though, he didn’t really understand its use. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a compass which directs you to Tubbo’s location at all times,” he clicked open the compass and pointed to the engraving inside, “See it says ‘Your Tubbo,’ and he has one with your name on it with the same purpose.”

Tommy stared in awe at the object, “You mean I could follow this and find him anywhere in the world if I wanted?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to help Tommy feel less lonely during exile since Ghostbur was kind of useless at doing much more than this.”

This was it! His ticket to L’manburg.

Wilbur shivered and glanced back at the house, “We should head inside. My toes are about to freeze off.”

“I’ll head in soon,” Tommy shook his head, “I just need a moment.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes but smiled anyway ruffling Tommy’s head as he stood, “Alright, child, but don’t stay out too long. I don’t want to deal with Phil’s mother henning if you get hypothermia.”

Tommy squawked in protest at his hair being messed up but watched Wilbur go without protest. Once his brother had made it inside, Tommy counted to 30 before he slowly stood and glanced at the compass.

The needle pointed straight ahead. Tommy grinned.

This would be so easy.

-

It was not easy. 

Tommy walked for about an hour before he saw it. Water. Not just water, a whole ocean stood before him.

He let out a loud groan of frustration stomping his feet against the ground, not caring about the creaking of the ice below him. He looked around searching for any land which seemed to cut through the massive body of water, but the ocean stretched on for miles.

Tommy glanced towards the icy shore noticing the piles of boats left waiting for him. 

He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t like it.

Stepping into the boat, Tommy threw his arms to the side as it rocked precariously. The last thing he needed was to fall in. He sat himself on the small bench and grabbed the oars from the floor.

With a small huff and a glance back at the tundra, he started rowing. 

Almost instantly, the air began to chill as he got further and further from shore. He pulled Techno’s cloak closer to him, missing the warmth of the cabin and the small nest his dad had constructed for him.

This Tubbo better have a damn good reason for dragging Tommy all the way out here. 

While he certainly wasn’t weak by any means, most of the activities he participated in the castle involved running away from the palace guards when he and Wilbur would conduct one of their more risky pranks, there was never the need for anything too strenuous.

Tommy didn’t even know how to fight, not really. Not unless you counted the pretentious art of fencing which Techno enjoyed. Tommy thought it was boring, you didn’t even get to actually stab anything, and the helmets made him look stupid. 

Though, he would take fencing any day over the rough work of moving these oars. At first, it seemed simple. You just grabbed the wood and moved it in a circle and the boat moved with it. Right?

Wrong.

With every movement, the ocean seemed to send its own small wave back which pushed against Tommy’s work. His arms ached and he panted from exhaustion as he fought against the tides, trying to stay on target and keep moving forward.

By the time he saw the first flicker of lights on the horizon, the moon had soon reached its peak and Tommy felt ready to pass out from exhaustion in the boat. Still, he pushed forward.

He needed to speak to Tubbo.

Soon, he rounded around the hillside and civilization came into view and Tommy couldn’t suppress his gasp of awe at the sight.

So this is L’manburg.

It’s beautiful.

Floating lanterns scattered the skyline, like tiny stars drawn down from the heavens to light up the city. Tommy could see the scattering building across the land, all built from wood and wool. In another universe, it looked like home.

Tommy stopped the boat, and carefully stepped onto the small dock at the edge of the city. Even in the dead of night, the city looked alive and bright and Tommy was helpless but to follow its light.

However, once he reached the city walls the illusion shattered. Walls of obsidian towered over the city, like a fortress not only keeping people out but trapping its people inside. 

There was a small hole, and Tommy quickly climbed through, glancing once more at the compass around his neck. 

He was close.

Reaching the other side, Tommy noticed the array of posters scattered around the main square. 

Wanted posters with his brother’s face plastered all over them. 

It almost would have made him laugh at the ridiculousness of it all if it weren’t for the fact that those posters almost caused his brother to die. 

He had the urge to rip them down, one by one, but thought better of it. He was here for something else. 

Though, it wouldn’t hurt if he did just the one?

Right?

Nobody would have to know.

Tommy chuckled silently and reached up and grasped the corner of the poster in his fingers. Maybe he could bring it back to Techno and they could laugh at how they messed up his tusks or the overdramatic scowl they placed on his face. 

With a sharp rip, Tommy tore the poster from the sign, the sound echoing throughout the city. 

“Tommy!”

Tommy turned around just in time to see a small blur of brown hair rushing towards him.

Then pain blossomed across his face, and he stumbled back into the sign.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Tommy yelled, “You just punched me!”

The boy before him stood slightly shorter than him, but the slow ache spreading across his cheek told him he was more powerful than he seemed. 

So this was Tubbo.

“Yeah, I did!” Tubbo retorted, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Listen, man, I came here because you asked me to!”

Tubbo only appeared to grow angrier at that answer as he pointed to the item in Tommy’s hands, “No, I meant,” he reached out and snatched the poster from Tommy’s fingers before he could stop him, “Why the fuck are you teamed with Technoblade? Have you not forgotten what he’s done? To L’manburg? To you? To me? ”

Well, Tommy didn’t really remember actually.

“Uh,” he hesitated, “Well he is my brother.”

“Yeah, and I’m your best friend.”

Tommy really didn’t know how to respond to that one, so instead, he just nodded silently. This was awkward. He didn’t come here to argue for Tommy. He didn’t know what was going on, let alone who he was really speaking to aside from recounted tales from his family. 

Fuck it, he could at least get something out of this. 

“Listen, Tubbo. I didn’t come here to argue. I need to know, have you seen Dream recently?”

Tubbo scoffed, “Yeah, I’ve seen Dream. He’s been hounding my ass for the past week wondering why you aren’t in exile anymore.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the comment but ignored it. “No. Have you noticed him planning anything?”

“He’s always planning something. He’s Dream. What are you getting at Tommy?”

“No, no” Tommy shook his head. Tubbo wasn’t hearing him. He grabbed the boy’s shoulders before he pressed, “Tubbo. Dream is planning something big. I don’t know what, but I need to know if you have seen him acting suspicious lately.”

Tubbo’s eyes were wide as he slowly shook his head, “No. He’s been gone most of the days lately. Nobody knows where he’s been. He’s only around to ‘check up’ on L’manburg.”

Tommy sighed before letting go of Tubbo’s shoulders. Guess they were both in the dark. Before he could fully let go, Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s arm as he looked at him with eyes full of fear. 

“Tommy what’s-”

Before the words could leave his mouth, the ground beneath them shook and a giant boom echoed throughout the world. Both boys reached up and covered their ears, faces scrunched in pain.

“What was that?” Tubbo yelled, but Tommy ignored him.

He knew that sound. It was one he’d only heard about in legends or in the stories his Dad would tell him when he and his brothers were younger and hounded him. 

He had to get home.  

Tommy turned and found Tubbo glancing around frantically, looking for any perceived threat to the city or to the pair.

“I need to leave,” Tommy nodded back to the docks, but he noticed the way Tubbo hesitated as if torn between following him to help fight or staying and defending. Tommy smiled gently and pointed back to where Tubbo appeared from, “Go keep L’manburg safe. I’ve got this.”

He tried to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy turned around and was almost knocked over as a body collided into his eyes. 

“Stay safe,” Tubbo whispered.

He smiled, “I always do, big man.”

Tubbo smiled and slowly released him before rushing away to what Tommy assumed was the White House.

As soon as his friend was out of sight, Tommy’s smile dropped and his feet raced against the ground.

He needed to hurry.

This was bad.