Chapter Text
Tommy doesn't know what's happening.
Today was his eleventh birthday, and his father had told him to go and pick some flowers whilst he set up the house for a small party. It He was so excited, knowing that his friends would be there, and the kind people of his village would be there, and it was going to be so fun! But now he can't move. He's stuck in a trance as he stares up at the sky, a basket of lilies in his arms. His eyes are wide and blank, mouth tilted down somewhat. It's the expression someone would make if they were to notice something was off. He hears rustling from in front of him, and while he can't move his eyes the something is luckily in his field of vision. Out of a bush comes Niki and his dad, both looking around before spotting him. He feels relief, because his dad was here! He knows his dad can fix anything!
The relief fled his body instantly though when he sees his dad stiffen, Niki bringing a hand up to his shoulder while the other covers her mouth. Tommy can see tears in both of their eyes. "Sam..." She whispers, as his father gently walks towards him, his hand cupping Tommy's cheeks. "Oh my God." He mutters, and Tommy is anguished to see his father cry. He's never seen him cry, never seen him come close to tears. And Tommy wishes he could comfort him, wishes he could hug his dad and tell him that he's fine, he's still alive, he's still here.
But he can't. His legs hurt from standing, but they don't shake, tears come out of his ducts but they just make him seem like a fountain for display. His arms hurt from carrying the basket yet he can't rest them. His father stays out in the field with him for hours, days, even. Sometimes Niki or some other villager would come and give his father food or water, or even a blanket. He's happy they're looking after him. He just wishes that his dad wouldn't push himself to do this, even if all Tommy wants is his company.
His father finally leaves after much convincing about two weeks later, though not before hugging Tommy's frozen state for what feels like and probably is hours. "I'll visit every day, okay?" His father assures, giving Tommy a kiss on his temple before walking away mournfully. And, true to his word, every morning his father would come and visit him for hours until late noon. He would do anything, from reading to Tommy, to telling him how Fran is doing. The tears come again when his dad quietly adds "Fran misses you, Tommy. Come back soon." And when his dad looks up to see the tears running down his son's stone cheeks, he too begins crying. He must know how desperate Tommy is to come home, how desperate his boy is to break free from his stone prison.
He stands, wiping the tears from the stone surfaces that was once his child's cheeks. "I'm sorry Tommy. I'm so, so sorry. I can't do anything about this, and I'm sorry." This, Tommy decides, is truly hell.
One day, while Sam is back at the village, out of the bushes comes Niki and Tommy's friends, who he has yearned to see since the day after this... curse, has been set onto him. They're all silent as they see him, Niki smiling sadly at him. "Hey Tommy." She says, softly, sitting next to him. "Can he hear us?" Deo asks, also coming closer to the statue of his friend. "We believe so. He started crying when Sam mentioned Fran." It's silent after that, Deo rubbing his hand under his sunglasses as Luke places a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't fair though. Why- why did it have to happen on his birthday of all days, why did it have to happen in general?!" He cries, taking off his glasses entirely so he can rub at his eyes.
The other boy's cry as well, all upset with the circumstances. It hurts Tommy that he's the reason his friends are crying, though he knows he can't help it. It makes him cry as well, and Deo stares at the tears, eyes revealed and wide, showing his heartbreak through his irises. Tommy gets a lot of hugs that day, but they just don't feel the same as they used to. They no longer warm him, and they no longer squeeze him into comfort. They're just simply things covering him in certain areas, animate things, even.
He wishes he could have an actual hug.
He stays like this for months upon months, people he's never seen before looking at him in wonder, or trying to break his curse by the villages pleads. Nothing helps though; he's stuck like this. Centuries later, his friends and family having long passed away without even saying goodbye, a new pair of people meet him. "Who is this a statue of?" The shorter one asks, a brow raises at the basket of long-dead flowers in the statue's arms. "The village we're visiting has a legend that a statue in the forest used to be a boy, and was turned into one by Medusa herself on his eleventh birthday. You think this is the statue?" The taller one replies, his voice deep with pity. The shorter one hums, looking down at the rock with words engraved into it at Tommy's feet. His dad had placed that there a year or two after his encasement. "Tommy Awedade, turned to stone on April Ninth of 14XX. A wonderful son, and a great friend." The shorter one, who Tommy realizes looks like a goat hybrid, read aloud.
He looks up at the taller one, who is definitely an Enderman hybrid of sorts. "Do you think he can still hear us, Ranboo?" Ah, so Ranboo is his name. Ranboo shrugs, looking back at the statue. "It might not even be true that he was once a boy, Tubbo, but one of the older people in the Inn said that the boy's father was a kind man that was very well known even well after his death. Apparently the man stayed with Tommy for weeks, not even going home until a lot of convincing. He saw Tommy cry one day when he wished for Tommy to come home. So I guess he can hear us, but the only response we could get is tears." Ranboo says, sitting in front of the boy's statue. Even when sitting he towers over the eleven year old, which isn't all that hard, seeing as Tubbo is almost taller than the boy while sitting as well.
"That's... really sad, actually. Poor guy." He mumbles, frowning at the stone child in front of him. "He's been here for literal centuries." And oh, Tommy is well aware of that. The pain in his body is evident, having not sat or laid down in all those years. If he wasn't made of stone, he's sure his legs would have given out after not even the first day of his imprisonment. But no, they can't even quiver in pain, he can only stand there, not even having the mercy of death.
The thought makes Tommy want to cry again. He's cried a lot in his time here; it's not very hard for just one of his thoughts to make him start sobbing. No noise leaves him as a tear rolls over his stone cheeks, the only sense of familiarity Tommy really has at this point. He can feel the tears on his rock hard skin, but it's not the same as when his skin was flesh. Now, he can't feel the tears stick to his skin, or taste the saltiness of them. Now they just roll on by, dampening the stone underneath them as the fall from his face. Tubbo and Ranboo frown to each other, before Tubbo hugs the statue of the boy. It's not warm, and he isn't comforted much by the touch that he can barely feel, but the fact that he's even given one makes the tears grow in amount and size. Tubbo sits back, hands still on the child's shoulders. "I'm sorry we can't help you Tommy. Me and Ranboo will only be here for a few days, but we'll make sure to visit for at least an hour every day, and we'll stay the night here before we go!" Tubbo says, a comforting smile on his face as Ranboo nods from behind him.
Tears basically cover Tommy's cheeks now, but he's happy that these boy's will keep him company, even if it's only for a few measly days. He'll take what he can get.
And they stay true to their word. For the next five days they each spend and hour or two with Tommy, doing exactly what his dad did for him. They'd read to him, talk to him, tell him how much his old village has grown and how their days have been. It reminds Tommy of when he was still just a normal kid, and he'd come back home to a hug from his dad and he'd get to ramble on about the adventures he and his friends went on. He misses he dad. He misses his friends. He misses Niki, and her sweets that she'd give him on the promise he doesn't tell his dad. He misses his old life, so, so bad. He just wants to see his dad again.
On the morning that Tubbo and Ranboo have to leave, Tommy cries harder than he thinks he ever has as a statue and as a normal kid, the cracks that have formed on his stone skin hurt more than ever, and for once, the hugs he gets are warm.
From that day on, he doesn't stop crying. Not until centuries, after centuries later does his tears stop. He thinks he's run out of them by that time, the stone forever dampened by the consistent trails of sadness and grief.
He feels the bitter cold of winter, but he can't shiver. He hears the chirps of spring birds, but can't look for them. He sees the fleshly bloomed flowers that sit at his feet, but he can't lean down to smell them. He can smell the autumn air, but he can't go and play in the leaves like he used to. The cracks that have formed on his stone body over the years are small, and very few, as if he's immune to the subjection of nature. They don't hurt any less though, and he's painfully aware when a new web of cracks begins, or when an already existing one largens.
He gets visitors every now and then, but none of them stay for more than a couple of hours. None of them are his dad. None of them are his friends. None of them are Niki and her sweets. None of them are Tubbo and Ranboo.
One day, in what Tommy thinks is the twentieth century, a man builds a house in the distance. Tommy can see it through the trees that have grown around him over the years, and he can see two other men assisting him. He hears them call the first man dad, and is hit by a wave of envy. After about a few months since the house has been completed, the first wanders around the area where he and his family resides, and stumbles upon Tommy. "Huh. Well hello there." The man says, smiling confusedly. Who would make a statue of a child? In the middle of nowhere, nonetheless. He sees a rock at the statue's feet, picking it up with great care as he reads the words scratched upon it.
"Oh." He says, quietly. He looks back up at Tommy, a sad smile on his face. "'S that why there are tear tracks on your face?" As expected, the man gets no answer. He looks down at the flowers at the boy's feet. Lily of the Valleys. They droop from the weight of their buds, as if mourning the child they surround. Along with them are a few Chrysanthemums. "You must be pretty lonely out here, huh?" He asks, sitting down across from the child, who's apparently been here for a long, long while. Nowhere near as long as the man has lived, but definitely too long for a child to live, not even mentioning the fact that said child is a mere mortal. He's seen more than he was meant to, and the man pities Tommy for that.
It's silent for a while, Tommy basking in the company while the man tries the come up with ways he could help. "I could bring my son over to play guitar for you, if you want? I'm sure he'd be happy to have an audience. That isn't me or Techno, anyways. I'm Phil, by the way. I'm assuming you're Tommy." It sends Tommy's mind reeling to be called his name again. Phil smiles, standing up. Tommy wants to beg, to plead that the man doesn't go. He's too scared of being alone again, he loathes the thought of going another five or six centuries with no one there. He begins to cry, one more time. And it shocks Tommy as much as it does Phil.
"Awe, Tommy. It's okay, I'll be back. I just need to ask Wilbur and Techno if they want to meet you, okay?" Phil says, wiping the tears away from Tommy, who thrives in the contact, even if he can barely feel it. "Give me thirty minutes, okay? I'll probably even be back before then." Phil reassures, and yeah, sure, Tommy can wait thirty minutes. Thirty minutes is barely a second to Tommy, in all of the time that has flied by for him.
Phil comes back less than ten minutes later, his two sons trailing behind him. "Phil, when you told me there was a child made of stone in the woods, I didn't think you meant, like, a literal statue." The taller one with the guitar on his back says, and Tommy assume he's Wilbur. "He's not just a statue, mate. He's been cursed. Started crying when I had to go get you two." Wilbur frowns at that, sitting down in front of the child. The pink haired one, Techno, reads the rock at Tommy's feet, frowning at the info. "Been here a while." He mutters, looking up to meet Tommy's eyes. "You didn't go breaking any promises, did you?" Techno asks, in a monotone voice.
Tommy doesn't exactly know what that meant, but even if he did he couldn't tell Techno his answer. "I doubt he did, Techno. And even if he did, I really don't think it was with Hermits or whoever." Wilbur says, strumming his guitar absent mindedly. "Hermes, but whatever." If Tommy could laugh, he would. He likes these men; they're funny.
The two boy's continue their banter as Wilbur strums a soft song on the guitar, Phil making a flower crown with some of the dandelions and poppies that surround them. It saddens Tommy that he can't contribute, but he's grown numb to his lack of ability to speak. He still hasn't grown numb to the pain in his body though, and he doesn't think he ever will. Hours later, as the sun begins it's trip down the sky, Phil smiles at Tommy. "We have to go now, Tommy. But I'm sure Techno wouldn't mind reading out her tomorrow." He says, smiling down at Techno with a look in his eyes that says Techno can't disagree with that, so he nods, and Tommy would smile if he could. "Yeah. I was planning on re-reading the story of Theseus, so you'll get to hear it from the start instead of me just reading some book to you from the middle." He snorts, and Tommy has never felt more excited in years for the net day.
_-_-_-_
When the family gets home, Phil sits at the dining table with his head in his hands, pondering what he should do. "We can't just- just leave him like that. He's been there for literal centuries!" He says, his boys nodding in agreement. "You're really the only person I know that could do anything about this, Phil. I don't know what to tell you." Techno says, his voice monotone while his face shows some type of remorse through his usually stoic mask.
Wilbur hums, sadly. "He's a cute kid, from what I can tell. We'll help in whatever way we can, but it's really up to you here, Phil." He says, his eyes laced with grief for the child that he's only just met. Phil sighs, nodding. "There's a man I met a couple of years back; Eret. They probably know something about this, seeing as one of her colleagues worked with necromancy, and he works with spells." He says, thinking. "I'll set out to visit them tomorrow. Should only take me a day or two to get to her palace. You two visit Tommy as much as you can, please." He says, going to pack as he hears the boy's assure him that they would watch the statue of a child who's lived for too long.
And they do. Everyday while Phil is gone, Techno would read to the boy, Wilbur would play some songs for him, or they'd just chat to him. Sometimes they'd both visit at the same time, and they'd banter mindlessly. "Phil should be coming back tomorrow." Wilbur says at some point, sitting on a blanket they'd placed in front of Tommy while Techno munches on some strawberries. "He's going to find a way to fix you! Eret is very nice, as far as I know, so she'd definitely help dad out in helping, especially with the knowledge that you're just a kid." And if that doesn't bring tears to Tommy's eyes once more, than Wilbur would've been scared he'd upset the boy.
When they go home that night, Wilbur leaves the blanket over the statue's shoulders, patting his head before he leaves with a gentle goodbye. Tommy is so, so excited, but he also feels an overwhelming amount of doubt in Phil's abilities. Sorcerers, witches, wizards, hundreds of different kind of people have tried to lift Tommy's curse, but it's never worked. What could Phil, with the help of this Eret person, fix him?
The answer comes the next morning, when all three of the family visit, Phil holding a jar and a pair of tweezers. Really not what'd you expect from someone who's trying to lift a curse. "If Eret is right about this, than I am so, so sorry that the solution to this is so simple." He mutters, aiming the tweezers at Tommy's... basket? What could a bunch of dead flowers have to do with a curse? After taking multiple of the flowers out, he pauses at one of them, staring at it. It's a flower that is very much alive, with indigo petals that fade into green at the tips. As the petals get closer to the bud, they lose their color, before turning into an ashy gray. Phil sighs, relieved, as he picks up the flower with the tweezers and places it into the jar, screwing the cap tightly.
And suddenly, the pain in Tommy's body multiplies, his eyes water, his limbs shake violently, and his chest heaves as he crumples to the ground, the men surrounding him with noises of concern. And Tommy blinks, breathing heavily as he looks down at his hands, his bones creaking, and his eyes widening when they see color in his hands, and he squeezes them, and he feels warm, and he's finally free.
He looks up at Phil, finally making noises with his sobs. "Than-k y-ou so m- so mu-uch." He cries, his voice raspy from hundred of years of disuse, literally. Phil smiles, hugging the child close to his chest, and Tommy relishes in the fact that he's comforted by the hug. It reminds him of his dad's hugs, the ones where he's basically be invisible due to how much larger his father was than him, but he'd still feel the warmth of the hug and be rocked to sleep, knowing he was in the arms of his father. He can't have that anymore, his father had passes years ago, but now he has Phil, and Wilbur, and Techno, and he's finally able to hug someone knowing that he'll be able to wrap his own arms around them, knowing that now when he cries, his tears will catch on themselves instead of simply rolling down.
And finally, after all of these years he falls asleep, comforted by the arms surrounding him.
_-_-_-_
"What even was that flower?" Techno asks, sitting on the recliner across from Phil and Wilbur, who sit on the couch. Tommy's is in Phil's room, getting some well-earned sleep in the man's bed. "Apparently it's something called ''Medusa's Rose''. Turns people to stone when they pick it." Phil explains, glaring at the flower that is still sat in the jar. "Gonna burn that little shit in lava later; absolutely ruined that child's life." He mutters, getting nods of agreement from the other two. "He's staying with us now, right?" Wilbur asks, leaning against his dad. "Of course; where else would he go? And like hell I'm leaving him alone; that child has felt more loneliness than a thousand prisoners." Honestly, Phil is appalled his son thought otherwise.
They pause at the sound of a sot thump, and they turn to see Tommy standing at the mouth of the hallways, leaning heavily against the wall. "Hey Tommy, what are you doing up?" Wilbur asks gently, getting up to crouch in front of the child, who's legs are shaking. Phil belatedly realizes that Tommy must have felt everything, even the soreness of not being able to sit down. It makes him even more remorseful for the child.
As a response to Wilbur's question, Tommy just wraps an arm around his stomach, making all of the men realize that he hasn't eaten in literal centuries. Techno stands, stretching. "I'll make some potato soup for ya kid, get Wil or someone to carry you to the table." He says, walking to the kitchen. Tommy looks up at Wilbur, who smiles, picking up the child gently, as if he was made of glass. Honestly, the analogy would be funnier if Tommy wasn't made of stone literal hours ago.
"I'm surprised you didn't sleep for longer, but I can understand being too hungry to rest. Probably haven't eaten in a while, huh?" He asks, sitting at the dining room table with the child in his lap. The boy shakes his head slowly, leaning back into the man's chest, who pats his head. "Sorry we didn't think of that. Techno's a great cook though! Well, only if the food has something to do with potatoes." This makes the child laugh, which places a giant grin on Wilbur's face. Phil places a glass of water on the table, which Tommy takes gratefully. "I'm sure you'll love it here, Tommy. I'll get to making you you're own room soon." He says with a smile, making Tommy pause. "I g-et to st... stay?" He asks quietly, making Phil's smile go more fond than it was before, which is honestly a miracle in itself. "Of course you do. Oh, and here you go!" Phil pulls the rock out of his pocket, handing it to Tommy, who runs his thumb across the words.
Tommy smiles, and once again, tears prick at his eyes. He sniffles, rubbing at his tears, and Wilbur hugs him tighter from behind. "What's wrong, Tommy?" He asks, anguished to see the child cry, as is Phil and Techno, who's placed a bowl of soup on the table. "I- I miss my- da-d. I d- I didn't e-even get to sa-y goodb-ye to him before h-he died." Tommy sobs, hugging the rock closer to his chest as Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, trying his hardest to comfort the boy. "I'm sure you're dad is watching over you right now, Tommy. He's probably so happy that you're back, and safe. I'm sure of it." He mumbles, making Tommy cry harder.
And it's true. Sam is overjoyed at the fact that his son is no longer trapped in a body of stone, even if he isn't there to hug him, or cry with him. He's still watching over his boy, elated at the fact that he has a new family, who will give him all of the love that he deserves, who will be able to give him their birthday gifts, who will be able to provide as many hugs and kisses as his boy desires.
Tommy's finally free, and is at the beginning of a brand new life.