Chapter Text
Tommy stood on the tower, clutching his arms and shivering, tears streaming down his face. His eyes looked upon the horizon, across the trees and ocean. Not a bird dared to chirp. With a bittersweet feeling settling in his stomach, he realized that he was alone, not even Dream, his one friend, was nearby. His one friend who cared for him, not even there. (This was a lie - Tommy was never a good liar.) He found solace in the fact that alone is how he joined and alone is how he'll leave.
(Isolation is often the last straw after all.)
‘A fitting conclusion to the complex symphony that is my life,’ he thought. ‘ Alone and loud in the beginning, alone and quiet in the end.’
(Tommy and Wilbur were alike in more ways than people ever cared to notice in the end.)
The voices screamed in his head- he couldn't quite remember when they first appeared, he supposed he became aware of them about a week into exile, but he had a feeling that settled deep under his skin that told him that they had been there for much longer. Watching. Talking to him. Waiting for the day he was aware of their presence. He wasn't quite too sure as to why he could only hear them now though, but he was hardly going to go and ask the only other person he knew on the server with voices, his brother enemy, Technoblade. A faint smile appeared across his face as he imagined how that conversation would play out.
"Hello, Technoblade! Big T! My good friend! It's me, big man TommyInnit! Y'know, the person's country you destroyed? Well anyways, you know the voices that you hear in your head, the ones that make you want to commit mass genocide? Yeah, well I can kinda, sorta, maybe hear them too now- only they don't scream at me to kill- that must just be a you thing, big man. Just wondering if you would have any clue as to why I can suddenly hear them?"
Speaking of the voices, they were really starting to give him a headache with all the yelling they were doing. They couldn’t seem to make up their mind on if he should jump or not. Half of them the half that felt of safety, of home, of his brothers and father were screaming at him to climb down and not be stupid. In comparison, the other half the half that squirmed like snakes in his mind, that smelt of gunpowder, blood and ash, that sounded like Dream might as well have been screaming but were just as if not even more impactful. They whispered at him to just take one step forward, one foot off. They whispered how he would no longer be forcing people to pity him.
Tommy knew exactly where his thoughts started and the voices began nowadays. They swam in his head and echoed, but unlike his brothers, he could control them. He wasn’t compelled by the arguments they made on the daily. (This was a lie - Tommy had never been a good liar.)
Tommy edged forward, even closer to the edge than he was before, his body swaying dangerously. He looked down at the ruins of Logstedshire beneath him. It didn’t look as far down as he thought it was. He might not even die if he just… took a step.
(Tommy and Wilbur were alike in more ways than they cared to admit - neither were good liars.)
TOMMY NO!
Someone tell Phil!
I’m telling Dadza!
leave him. let him jump
TOMMY STEP DOWN NOW!
I can’t get in contact with dadza…
Tommy took a deep breath. In. Out. He looked over the calm waves of the ocean and made a decision.
Tommy please no!
Please climb down!
Don’t do this!
‘Sorry Tubbo,’ he thought. ‘But I guess it was never meant to be…’
With one last breath filling his lungs, he took a step forward and then f e l l . His eyes closed and he spread his arms out, embracing his fate. Like this, he could almost pretend he was flying. He could feel a sharp pain at his shoulder blades but ignored it, figuring it was just wounded from earlier being agitated. His mind started to clear and the voices quiet as he neared the cold, unforgiving, earth.
He was jolted out of his calm state of mind when he suddenly slowed down, his body rising upwards slightly, almost like he had released a parachute. He opened his eyes in confusion- he was meant to be speeding up, not slowing down. He caught a glimpse of a dark red colour - almost black - out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of brilliant dark wings. Out of sheer instinct and panic, his body reacted before his mind and he started to flap his wings.
His descent slowed significantly due to how rapidly he was flapping his wings, however, it wasn’t enough to stop his fall, only slow it down so it wasn’t fatal. He landed with an almighty crash, dirt and rubble entering his mouth and getting in his eyes slightly. He let out a groan as he rolled across the ground.
‘What the fuck…? I- I have wings? But I was meant to die…”
(This was the truth - telling lies you don’t believe all the time gets exhausting after a while.)
WingedInnit Pog
Oh thank god he’s okay
Baby bird
Wings pog!
Tommy pushed himself up from the ground, groaning as his limbs screamed in protest. He stood up and winced as he applied weight on his ankle before it buckled under his weight.
‘Must be broken then.’
Go to Techno!
Antarctic Empire arc?
Get help from Techno!
don’t bother him, you’ll just be a problem.
Tommy let out a groan at the voices arguing. It didn’t help with the concussion he had most likely gained from the fall.
‘Fine! I’ll go to Techno… just… shut up… please? Your arguing isn’t helping my headache.’
The voices seemed to be content with that decision as they all collectively went quiet. He took a moment to look around at the ruins of the place he lived before sighing and starting to head off to the icy tundra where Technoblade lived. Besides, Tommy figured that after their last interaction, Techno would probably just kill him instantly and put him out of his misery.
(This was a lie: Tommy had always been a terrible liar.)
Tommy’s head swam as he looked upon the lonely cabin surrounded by pale snow. He swayed back and forth as he tried to regulate his vision.
‘Just a bit more then I’m there.’
The voices had quieted down to a concerned murmur which Tommy was grateful for. One shaky foot in front of the other and he managed to stumble into the lonesome cabin, his stomach churning from the exertion he put his body through on no food. He locked his eyes on the kitchen and tried to get his body into moving towards it so he could at least get some food or water, but his body refused to do so and the next thing he knew his knees were giving out on him and his vision was turning to black.
In another universe maybe Tommy would have seen the healing potions to the side and not passed out, and in that universe, Tommy might not have even jumped. But in another universe, Tommy might not have even jumped, or he might have jumped and not been saved by the tragic miracle that is his wings, or he might not have even been exiled. But this universe is neither those ones nor the next ones, it is in this one in which TommyInnit jumped to not be like Icarus, but to try and fly like Icarus, and that is a thing that neither you nor I can change no matter how much we may try or wish to do so, so the only thing that can be done for now is to keep watching and keep breathing.
Techno dragged Carl behind him as he walked back sluggishly to his house in the snow, a trail of blood following behind him from the pickaxe in his hand, creating a stark contrast. The voices rang out in his head, somewhat subdued now that they had gotten the blood that they so craved.
E
E
E
Technoblade never dies
Help Tommy!
You need to help Tommy!
Baby bird needs help!
E
Techno’s brow furrowed as he tied up Carl. Why were the voices demanding he help Tommy? He was fine, in exile sure, but Dream was looking after him. Dream wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Tommy. (This was a lie - but Techno had always been a better liar than his brothers.)
He shook his head as if to shake the voices out, although he knew it would be futile. A large yawn broke out from his mouth as he approached his front door. He paused momentarily when he saw the door was unlocked, but he reasoned that in his rush to meet the Butcher Army, he just forgot to close the door behind him.
Techno hadn’t made it five steps into his cabin before he froze. There, lying unconscious on the ground, bleeding over his floor- and were those wings? - was his brother, TommyInnit. He blinked at the sight before him several times and contemplated just turning around and walking outside again, but soon decided against it and strode over to the teen’s body and nudged it with his foot. The child boy didn’t stir.
“Tommy.” No response.
He nudged the teen again, more concerned this time. “Tommy?” Again, no response.
Techno grew more concerned the longer Tommy went without responding. He looked closer at Tommy and his eyes widened as he noticed the size of the wounds on Tommy. His ankle was swollen horribly and seemed to be poking out of his skin. Broken then. Blood was thoroughly pouring out of Tommy's head and the several gaping wounds around the bottom of his wings. Techno's breath caught in his throat as he noticed how still Tommy was – his mind jumping to the worst – but it rushed out as he noticed that the teen was breathing. Shallowly, maybe, but he was breathing. He was alive. The rest of Tommy's body was littered with wounds and burns. Techno's stomach sank as he wondered who would do this to his baby brother.
Protect!
Must protect!
Protect baby bird!
Kill dream!
Blood for the blood god
Baby birb
Must protect baby bird
Techno forced his body to move and start gathering bandages and healing potions. Revenge could wait, he reasoned. Tommy was more important. The piglin hybrid was only doing this because Tommy was bleeding all over his floors. (This was a lie – Techno had always been a better liar than Tommy.)
He knelt down on the ground beside Tommy and turned him carefully onto his front. He grimaced at the sight and knew that a more squeamish person – one who didn't have as much blood on their hands as Techno did – would most likely vomit at the sight. The hybrid uncorked the potion bottle and carefully poured the magical solution over the wounds. He winced in sympathy at the hissing noise it made and the smell of burning flesh as it made contact with the worst of the teen's wounds, but he was reassured by it too since because it was doing something, it wasn't too late. The wounds hadn't closed even after the entire health potion had been administered so Techno applied a small amount of regeneration cream. He didn't want to risk Tommy getting worse than he already was because of magic poisoning. He didn't dare touch the teen's wings though: Phil could deal with them when he visited.
Techno then took the bandages from the side and shakily started wrapping Tommy’s torso. Several of the bandages stained a deep crimson instantly but Techno didn’t let that phase him. By the time he was finished, Tommy looked more mummy than teenager. Concern filled him as he realised that Tommy hadn’t even stirred once throughout the whole ordeal. He let out a sigh before crouching down and picking up the teen.
Techno startled as he felt how light the teen was. How did he end up so severely underweight? Was Dream not feeding him? He pushed his questions to the back of his mind temporarily and focused on Tommy. He decided to place him in his own bed, he didn’t use it that often anyway so it’s not as if it was that comfortable. (This was a lie - being a better liar didn’t mean he was a good one.)
Once Tommy was settled in his bed, (‘sleepy little bird’ the voices crooned) Techno slid down the wall and let out an almighty sigh. What could have happened to make Tommy that beat up? He dragged a hand down his face, the adrenaline wearing off and exhaustion filling his body yet again. The voices sang in unison, demanding the blood of whoever had caused this. He shifted a few times, growling a quick ‘shut up’ to the voices, before settling into an uneasy sleep.