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Tommys never thought about the things people ‘do’ and ‘don’t’ deserve. Never in a serious way at least. When he was a kid with Wilbur he would insist that he deserved dessert, he deserved to stay up extra late, or he deserved to hear another song. But it didn’t really mean anything, he was just a child, he wasn't thinking about if he had been on good behavior or if he gave anything in return.
The first time he thought about worthiness was with Eret.
‘You don't deserve to wear that uniform,’ he thought, trying to will tears away from his eyes. He’d never been that angry in his life, he’d never known what it was like to burn from the inside out. And there Eret stood, Tommy's blood spattered over the blue uniform turning it a dark, muddy, purple. You don't deserve that. You dont fucking deserve that.
He never entertained the idea after that, it was a random thought in his head minutes after he died. He hardly remembered thinking it, he had to move on. There was more to do.
The thoughts became more frequent after that. He started thinking about the people he knew and what happened to them.
Tubbo deserves to be treated better, Schlatt is hurting him.
Wilbur doesn't deserve the world that keeps taking from him.
Technoblade didn't deserve forgiveness after what he did.
Wilbur deserved life. He should have lived.
It used to make sense. At least to Tommy. There were things people did and didn't deserve. It was simple, it was easy, good people deserve good things. Bad people deserve bad things.
Dream was a bad person. Technoblade was a bad person. Schlatt was a bad person.
Tubbo was a good person. Wilbur was a… Wilbur was a good person. Niki was a good person.
Tommy was somewhat an exception. He didn't deserve to be exiled, L’manberg was his home, he died for it. Tommy deserved the discs, they were his. But it started getting fuzzy when he was with Wilbur. He used to be confident he didn't deserve some of the horrible things Wilbur said, but he did disobey Wilbur a lot. Not that he had to do everything Wilbur said, but Wilbur expected certain behavior from him, it was his fault he couldn’t keep up.
Tommy still felt like he had it figured out. Sometimes people deserve different things based on their actions, some things he did deserve, other things he didn't.
When Wilbur would push him a little too hard or hold onto him a little too tight, Tommy deserved it. When Wilbur started laughing and yelling until Tommy couldn’t breathe and cowered in the corner while Wiblur inched closer and closer. He deserved it.
But Tommy is a good person, at least a little bit. He didn't deserve to watch his brother die, he didn't deserve to lose his family. He didn't deserve every bad thing that happened to him.
Apparently Tommy didn't have it figured out at all.
It made sense, really, it did. All of it made sense, he just never had someone to point it out before. He was selfish, ungrateful, pathetic, whiny, annoying, everything Dream said he was.
He didn't deserve L’manberg. He didn't deserve Tubbo. He didn't deserve anything.
He deserved exile. He deserved being hit. He deserved his isolation.
He was lucky he had someone to teach him that. Of course, Dream was the worst, Tommy knew that. Dream was rude and bitch and ugly and also bad. Tommy hated him. He just made some fair points and was right about most things.
Tommy didn't talk much about exile, not to Puffy. He tried once, and Puffy got weird. She seemed sad and talked to him gently and Tommy loathed it. He told her a few things that Dream said and she told him that he was wrong. It hurt his head so bad the pounding felt like it was melting his brain.
Dream was a bastard. Dream was horrible. He was stupid and mean, he was the worst thing thats ever happened to Tommy.
But he wasn't wrong. Not about everything at least. He was wrong when he said that Tubbo didn't love Tommy. He was wrong when he said Tommys life revolved around him.
But he was right sometimes too. He was right about how Tommy was naturally selfish and never worked for anything he got. He was right about how annoying Tommy was, that he pushed everyone away with nothing but his personality. He was right more often than not.
Puffy was just wrong.
She hadn't been wrong about most things, she was a good therapist. She was just wrong about Dream being wrong.
Tommy didn't deserve anything.
There were weeks where he’d lay in bed for hours trying to convince himself to go to his therapy session. He didn't deserve it though. He didn't deserve help with his problems, he brought most of it on himself anyways.
But he’d go, because Puffy deserved business. Puffy is a good person. Puffy didn't ask for usual payment, at least not money. Puffy would make Tommy come with her to help her out with chores. Helping her clean her house or go mining, little things to pay her back. Tommy wanted to do that for her.
Sam was different. If it weren’t for the contract that said Sam had to be Tommy's friend and protect him, Tommy wouldn't think he deserved him. But Sam, by law, had too, besides, Tommy helped nearly everyday with the hotel, that had to be deserving of something.
Sam had come by to help Tommy chop down some trees for the hotel, it was a sunny afternoon
“How much does Nook need?” Tommy whines, stopping to catch his breath. They had been at this for hours, it was nearly noon by now.
“Just a few stacks, how much do you have?”
Tommy groans loudly and rolls his eyes, “Two,” Sam hums from his spot farther away in the trees.
It's a nice day, it's sunny with a few clouds dotting the sky. It's not hot but the air is warm and there’s a gentle, cool, breeze. The sun shines through the leaves and decorates the grass with splotches of yellow. It was a lovely day to go wood collecting, but it was starting to fucking hurt. Tommy felt his back, shoulders, and arms already getting sore from swinging his axe.
“We could call it a day, if you want to go to my place for a break?”
Tommy lights up at the idea, he liked spending time with Sam. He wasn't really sure why, he just felt a little lighter with him around. “Sure thing big S show us the way,” Sam laughs loudly and it's a squeaky sound, “Do you not know how to get there?” As he talks, Sam walks through the trees and towards Tommy.
Tommy squawks and glares at him, “I do too know you bitch! But it’s your fuckin’ house!” Sam laughs again. Tommy tries not to think about how Sam seems to laugh at everything he says.
The walk is peaceful. At least it's as peaceful as it can be with Tommy talking about every single thing that comes to his head. He starts with ranting about Nook, then about the best kinds of wood (Sam likes jungle which is horrendous), and about the carrot farm outside his house.
“It used to be wheat, I grew bread n’ shit but carrots grew faster you know?”
Sam hums in agreement.
“Plus with wheat you have to fucking make the bread. Carrots you can just eat straight out of the ground,”
Sam side eyes him and quirks an eyebrow. Tommy sees the grin he tries to fight off his face, “You eat your carrots straight out the ground? You wash them right?”
Tommy was unaware you were supposed to wash them, but he wasn’t going to be caught dead in the wrong.
“Well I think the dirt adds flavor. It's minerals and shit, you need that, right?”
Sam laughs mostly in shock, “No-No gods no Tommy you really need to wash your carrots,” Sam hardly gets through the sentence without giggling over each word. Tommy pouts and kicks the ground.
“That’s stupid,”
Sam doesn't say anything, only laughs a little more.
Sam laughs at everything, his laugh is contagious. It's warm, loud, and a little childish.
‘You don't deserve to hear it’ something in Tommy's brain tells him. Tommy hesitates before taking the next step, stupid fucking brain. It was just a laugh he didn't need to earn it. Besides, he was the one who was making Sam laugh in the first place.
“Alright,” Sam says to himself when his base comes into view.
Sam, because he's a bitch, does his fancy little redstone to make the door open. It's not really a door. More of a wall that goes up and down.
By the time the stone had dropped about half way into the ground Tommy Heard the bark of the best damn dog in the world.
“Fran!” He shouts and doesn’t try to fight the grin on his face. He scrambles past Sam and falls on his knees in front of the huge white dog. She was half wolf, her coat was thick and her fangs could probably tear a man's leg off, but she was the sweetest thing in the world. Sam trained her well.
Fran instantly runs to him and climes onto his legs and licks him in the face, Tommy giggles and tries to avoid her wet tongue.
“Yes, yes I know you missed me,” Tommy looks behind himself and smirks at Sam, “The ladies love me,”
“Uh huh, sure Tommy,” he says and to most he’d sound annoyed but Tommy sees the way his eyes crinkle in fondness.
The three of them walk towards the back of the base where the actual living area is. Tommy flops down on the couch and lets out a very long very loud groan.
It wasn't hot, but he was sweaty and exhausted. Chopping trees was a big mans work, his fingers hurt from the grip on the axe and his shoulders hurt from the swings. He kicks off his shoes without moving his hands.
Sam's home was basically his holiday house, he spent plenty of time here and rather liked it, it smelled comforting and he always felt safe.
Sam walks past him and further into the kitchen, Tommy doesnt turn to see what he's doing. He hears Sam move things around and walk back and forth, he pays it no mind.
At least he tried ot pay it no mind until Sam had to open his stupid, big, mouth.
“Want something to eat?”
He didn't think this was the reaction he was going to get. He thought the question was innocent enough. But he should have fucking known better, Dream doesn’t like it when he ask quietson. He’s not supposed to question Dream, it was rude.
The air smelled like ash and salt.
Ash from the fire between them. It was a late night under the Logstedshire stars, a cold one too. You’d think a beach would be warm, but apparently one this close to the arctic wasn't. Tommy knew better than to complain though.
The salt came from the ocean. When Tommy first arrived he didn't hate it, the scent was new and it took him a long time to get used to it. He loathed it now. It made his nose crinkle and sometimes he wishes he could stop smelling entirely.
Him and Dream sat just outside of Logsted near the portal. Dream agreed to stay later than normal and Tommy was going to relish every second. Dream had started the fire a bit ago, but it was dying down by now. Small orange and yellow flames wrapped around the logs and flickered into the air.
It was a nice night, until Tommy asked that stupid fucking question.
Dream had gone quiet. Tommy much preferred the yelling to the quiet. When he was quiet he was thinking and the more the thought the worse it was. He didn't think it was that bad of a question, he’d asked one similar to it before and Dream was fine with it.
He obviously wasn't fine now.
Tommy felt his head go light and his vision swim while he waited for Dream to say something. He felt nauseous, tears burning in his eyes for every second Dream didn't do something. His mask, a simple yet creepy smiley face stared straight ahead at Tommy, unblinking and unfeeling. Tommy suppressed a shiver.
“What did you just say?”
Oh. that was a fucking threat if Tommy had ever heard one. That was more than a threat, that was a challenge, a dare. Tommy swallowed thickly. Answering will get him in trouble, not answering will get him in trouble.
“I-I just asked if- I just asked if- if you-“
“Stop stuttering,” that was a command.
Tommy tries not to flinch, he wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at for that.
Tommy finally breaks his stare from the mask and looks down at the grass. The grass near the path was short, Tommy tried to keep it that way to make the path easier to follow. The grass in most of Logstedshire however was tall, brushing passed his knees.
“I asked if you had anything to eat,”
“Huh,” Dream says simply, not a trace of emotion in his voice, “And why were you wondering about that Toms?”
Tommys brain feels fuzzy at the name, it makes him feel warm and happy but… He hates it too. That stupid fucking name, the fucker knows Wilbur used to call him that. He hates Dream for it.
He tenses at the mere thought. He didn't mean that. Dream was his best friend. Dream was his only friend. Dream was his entire world. Dream cared about him when no one else did. The audacity to think such a thing, he might as well-
“Tommy?”
Fuck. Right. Focus.
“It's just- I haven’t had anything to eat today…” his voice closes up. He had been rude yesterday, it passed on to this morning. Instead of just his armor or tools, it was everything he had on him. That included his food supplies. He was so busy spending time with Dream that he forgot to find something. Besides, killing an animal was hard when you only had your bare hands. Tommy's stomach hurt, it felt like it had been clawing at him for hours.
“And?”
It's a trick. Tommy knows it is. It's a test. Dream wants Tommy to bring up this morning so he can ridicule him. Tommy knows how to play this game.
“I was just a little hungry,”
Dream hums lowly, another threat.
“What makes you think you deserve to eat?”
Tommy blinks a few times trying to process the words. His face was hot, maybe it was burning and bubbling from the flames. His back was cold, he shivered.
“I don’t-“
“No,” Dream cuts him off, holding up a single hand, “Go ahead, tell me. Tell me everything you did today and why that means you deserve to eat. Because if I remember correctly you just fucked around and did whatever you wanted. You didn’t get any work done and you didn’t do anything for me. Why should I do something for you? I’m already being generous enough to stay with you. I have other shit I need to get done Tommy. You know that right?,” his voice started growing in volume, he was near yelling. “My life doesn't revolve around you but because I’m our friend and care about you, I stayed. I constantly give to you and you think you fucking deserve more. Gods Tommy can you be any more selfish.”
Tommy can't stop it now, when he blinks two tears run down his face. They’re cool compared to the fire. His hands are shaking so violently he clenches his fist until his nails draw blood to keep himself grounded. He tries to focus, he’s supposed to listen when Dream talks, even when it hurts. He feels panic wrap around his neck and knot in his stomach to the point where it furrows painfully.
“Great. Now you’re crying,” Tommy hears the way he rolls his eyes.
“N-No I’m not- I just-“
Dream sighs.
Tommy shuts up.
“If you can prove to me you deserve to eat I’ll give you something. But you have to be good, Tommy. You’ve been nothing but selfish today, you can start now.”
“Tommy?”
Tommy blinks a few times.
Time to figure out where the fuck he is. Luckily this was more of a ‘funny little space out’ rather than a ‘something threw me into a panic attack and now i cant breathe’. Tommy slowly looks around, he's on a couch, there's a green rug, and an empty fireplace. Using his master observation skills because he's very smart and very cool he concludes his at Sams.
Which means there's a good chance that voice was Sam.
Tommy blinks a few more times for good measure, he looks over his shoulder. Sam is standing by the couch, his eyebrows are pushed up and he’s frowning slightly.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m all good, big man!” Tommy says and forces a smile on his face. It’s loud and forced and Sam can definitely tell.
“How long was I spacing out?” Tommy asks a little quieter.
“Not long, I just asked if you wanted something and you didn't respond,”
Good gods, it definitely felt longer than that. Tommys head hurts, but whats fucking new.
Tommy laughs loudly, trying to cover up the bit of awkwardness that had covered the room, “Sorry ‘bout that big man,” Tommy tries to ignore the slight shake in his voice.
Sam looks at him funny for a second longer before nodding, “So what do you want to eat?”
This bitch. This bitch. This should be an easy question, people answer it everyday, but it’s different with Tommy. He hasn’t done anything for Sam in return, he probably annoyed him the whole walk here and then came in like he owned the place.
It could be a trick? A trick for Sam to see if Tommy really was selfish enough to take food without earning it. Ha! Jokes on him, two can play at this game.
Except Tommy doesn’t really see it as a game, he likes Sam. He likes Sam a lot. Sam is nice, he’s funny, he’s the best. Tommy doesn’t deserve him. The hotel stuff maybe, but Sam does nice things regardless of if they’re in contact or not.
And Tommy doesn’t deserve it.
“I’m not hungry,” Tommy says. It’s a lie. They had been working for a few hours and Tommy was starving, but it was fine.
“You're not?”
Well Sam didn’t buy that for a second.
“We could do something else? I might be hungry by then?”
Tommy sees a small smile form on Sam’s face, “Like what?”
Tommy Danger Innit is always one step ahead, “I don’t know bitch boy, we could clean your house, I could walk your dog, whatever you need done,”
“Well I don’t think I need any of that, we could just hangout for a bit,”
This bastard is trying to make it difficult isn’t he. “Well if we’re just going to sit around, then I’ll probably head home,” he hates himself for it. He hates himself more than anything for it. He doesn’t want to leave Sam. Sam makes him overwhelmingly happy, there’s something about being around him that makes him feel safe. Was he really going to leave that for nothing?
But it wasn’t nothing. Tommy was taking from Sam, he didn’t deserve it. He has to earn it.
Sam frowns a little at that and Tommy pretends it doesn’t hurt his feelings. “Whatever you need kiddo, I just want to make sure you get enough to eat,” Tommy hates it when Sam calls him kiddo, it makes his chest feel all warm and shit.
“I dont-“ Tommy catches himself. That would be awkward to explain. Sometimes Tommy says things that are completely normal and accurate and Sam will look like a kicked puppy and say ‘you know that’s not okay, right?’ Tommy thinks ‘I don't deserve it’ will probably give him that response.
“You don’t?” Sam questions.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Sam kept looking at him funny, something in his eye Tommy couldn't place, “Alright, sandwiches sound good?”
Tommy is going to kill him. He’s going to break into the prison out of spite, just to give Sam a heart attack.
“No! Not alright! I told you I wasn’t fucking hungry!” Tommy didn’t mean to yell, it kind of just came out like that. It was definitely more intense than he wanted.
Sam startles back and looks at Tommy with wide red eyes and pursed lips.
“Okay,” he says keeping his voice soft, “I just thought since we were working for so long that you’d want something,”
Tommy huffs and looks away from him. He glares at the couch and folds his arms. His foot starts tapping wildly.
“I’m sorry,” Sam says and it sounds desperate and sad.
“For what?” Tommy's voice is laced with sarcasm but he can’t bring himself to actually be mad.
“I should have left it alone, I can tell you’re upset,”
Tommy tenses, “I’m not- You didn’t-“ A deep breath, “It’s not your fault. I’m just not hungry,”
“Okay,” Sam says and Tommy can tell he’s walking on eggshells. He hates it but doesn’t say anything. Sam is being nice to him, Sam is always nice to him and Tommy repays him by being a brat. Sam offered him his home and food and all Tommy did was be fucking disprectful and rude.
He bites the inside of his cheek.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Sam mumbles before turning around and walking into the kitchen.
Tommy tenses and starts tapping his foot faster, he feels nervous energy bubble through him like sparks.
He needs something to fucking do.
What would Sam like?
Tommy looks around, his house is fairly clean, but he doesn’t spend a lot of time here anyways. Sam is a bit of a workaholic. It's always ‘prison, hotel, redstone, prison, hotel, redstone,’ over and over again.
Maybe Tommy could help with that?
But he just did work for the hotel and his upper body still aches.
Sam walks back in, he sets a glass of water in front of Tommy, “Drink up, I know it’s not hot but you should stay hydrated,”
Tommy shoots him a glare.
He then mentally scolds himself, he’s supposed to be acting nice, that’s what his whole inner meltdown is about.
“Thank you,” Tommy says and his voice comes out much raspier than expected.
Sam pauses for a second, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
And Tommy? Tommy doesn't know. He doenst know if he’s alright, he’s hungry and sore and he just wants to fucking go home. But he also wants to stay with Sam. He wants to stay with Sam every hour of the day, because Sam is wonderful. Sam pushes him but never too hard, Sam laughs at every thing he says, Sam never judges him or scolds him. Tommy wants to stay with Sam the whole day and he wants to run into his little hole where he’s safe.
He doesn’t know if he’s okay because Dream is gone but he’s still somehow hurting him. It’s not fair. Tommy hates him. Tommy knows he’s wrong. Dream is a stupid little bitch.
But Tommy doesn’t deserve to eat because he hasn’t been nice to Sam today. He made Sam help him do the hotel work and then yelled at him while sitting in Sam’s house.
“I don't-“ he begins again.
Tommy deserves to have control over his life. He knows that. He knew that the second he ran from exile, he didn't belong to anybody. He deserves Tubbo because he fought for Tubbo and they forgave each other.
He doesn't know much more than that.
“I’m fine, just thinking a little too much,” it’s the most honest thing he’s said since he got here. It takes a little weight off his chest, it’s much harder to lie than to tell the truth.
Sam hums knowingly, “Yeah, thoughts can be upsetting, can’t they?”
Sam sounds like he knows and part of Tommy thinks he does, even if it’s just a little. Sam is understanding like that.
“You want to talk about it?” He offers.
Tommy shrugs.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help you?”
Sam blinks in shock a few times, “I mean I could probably find something, but why do you want to so bad? If I needed your help I would just ask,”
And now Tommy has a choice. Tell Sam the truth, that he can’t eat because he hasn’t earned it. Or lie and say it’s nothing in particular.
Saying nothing would be easier, it would be so much easier. Things would stay awkward until he went home and he wouldn’t have to talk about anything because he knows Sam would want an explanation.
The truth would be significantly harder. The truth entails getting questioned, getting that sad look, having to rethink everything he’s been taught.
The only problem is it’s hard to lie to Sam.
When Sam stands there, not crowding but close enough for Tommy to feel safe. When Sam tilts his head a little and his eyes shine with concern and Tommy knows that Sam is listening to him and him only. When Sam double checks if he’s okay because his voice fails him. When he does that, it’s impossible to lie.
“I just uh- well I just- I-“ he expects to be called out on his stutter, it doesn’t happen.
Tommy hasn’t known Sam for long, only a month or so, but he’s so different from everyone he’s ever met.
He looks away and wraps his arms around himself, he feels cold.
“You’re offering to make me food and I… I don’t deserve it. I haven’t been very good today, I made you help me do my work and now i’m taking up fuckin’ space in your house…”
Tommy realizes how raw and childish he sounds and tries to cover it up before the words can sink into the air.
“Which is your fault really because you didn’t have to help me. You’re just a little bitch who can’t say no to me because i’m so handsome,”
Tommy tries to look up and grin but his lips hardly move. His throat feels tight.
Sam is looking at him all sad.
Tommy hates it.
“Don’t go crying on me bitch boy,”
Tommys eyes widen.
you sound like Dream. You sound like Dream. Yousoundlikedreamyousoundlikedreamyou-
“I’m sorry- '' Tommy chokes out and he springs off the couch. Panic fills his body and his hands start to shake. He reaches out to Sam, tears fill his eyes and his tongue is fat. “No-no-no no, I’m so sorry, you can cry. I didn’t mean it, you can cry,”
Tommy hated when he wasn’t allowed to cry, it made him feel stupid.
“Tommy,” Sam says and his voice still somehow manages to be gentle.“It’s okay, I’m okay,”
Tommy shakes his head and his whole body is trembling from the stress of trying to keep it together. He doesn’t deserve Sam. Selfish, ungrateful, Tommy doesn’t deserve Sam.
“Tommy? Can I touch you?”
Tommy nods hastily. He doenst know why Sam is asking for permission to hit him but maybe it was a test, and Tommy wasn’t going to fuck up again today.
He still tenses when Sam raises both his arms but doesn't move.
He waits.
There’s a weight on his arms.
When his brain catches up to his body he realizes Sam has put a hand on each shoulder, he’s looking Tommy in the eye. “I need you to breathe kiddo, can you do that?”
Sam gets weirder for every second Tommy knows him.
Tommy didn’t realize how fast he was breathing, his air was coming out in short and ragged spurts. He takes a gasp for air but it chokes half way down and he starts coughing.
His body shakes harder, this is supposed to be easy.
“That’s okay, try again,”
Tommy takes a deep breath.
Sam starts rubbing his shoulders with his thumbs in a gentle motion. Tommy tries not to melt at the touch. He hasn’t been hugged, let alone positively touched, by anyone that wasn’t Tubbo since… It's been awhile. Ranboo gave him a high five the other day, that was nice.
“Hold it,” Sam whispers.
“Now let it out,”
Tommy does, his lungs burn but they throb in thanks for the oxygen.
“Good job kiddo, let's do that again,”
In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out.
Sam praises him every time he does it right and only ever reassures him when he can’t. He rubs Tommys shoulders the whole time.
Eventually Tommy is doing it on his own, without Sam’s help at all.
“Are you okay?”
The second Tommy realizes he's calmed down he pushes himself away. He's no longer worried about being nice or good, he wants to run. He wants to run and run and never talk to Sam again.
“I’m fine,” he snaps.
“No, you’re not,” Sam states simply. He says it like it's a fact, no room to argue, but he keeps his voice soft.
“Then why’d you ask?” Tommy glares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact.
Sam, however, completely ignores the question, “You said you didn't deserve food, what would make you ‘deserve’ it, what would change your mind,”
Tommy would die a happy man if he never had to talk to Sam again. He answers honestly and he doesn't know why.
“Helping you, doing something for you. You’re giving to me so I need to give back. That's how it works.”
Sam nods, Tommy notices he's trying to keep his face impassive. He’s hiding any emotion he might be feeling, it doesn't really work, his eyes still look sad and seem desperate. His mouth twitches and his eyebrows are a little more furrowed than normal.
“And who taught you that?”
A friend.
He's not your friend.
He's not your friend.
He tried to take Tubbo from you. He did take L’manberg from you. That's not a friend.
“Dream,” Tommys voice cracks.
Sam nods again.
“Tommy… I dont-“ Sam laughs, very quietly and mostly to himself, “I don't even know where to begin. That's so fucked up Tommy. That's not even- that's completely fucked,” Sam sounds anguished, his voice so quiet the sound nearly floats away in the air. He looks heartbroken.
Tommy doesn't understand. You deserve things or you don't. What decides that is your personality. Tommy is selfish and insufferable so he needs to give back when he gets things.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?’ Sam whispers and it sounds desperate. Bordering on crazy.
“Tommy oh my gods you do not need to deserve food. You need it to live, that's not dispensable. If it were something fancy or nice I might get it- but food? I dont- I can’t- Tommy what the fuck?” His voice raises in volume, not enough to yell, and he sounds more panicked with each word.
There are tears in Sam's eyes. Sam notices it before he does, but Tommy catches the way he rubs at them. Sam takes a deep breath, he seems significantly calmer. Tommy wishes it was that easy to calm himself down. Sam takes two more deep breaths, pausing in between them. It takes long enough for Tommy to almost feel awkward. Almost, it would be awkward if he wasn't trying so damn hard to not break down or start screaming.
“Can we sit down?” Sam asks and it's gentle and loving and Tommy can't say no.
So now they sit, with only a little space between them on the couch. It's quiet for a little longer, Tommy can see the gears turn in Sam's head while he thinks. He taps his foot softly and his eyebrows furrow. Tommy tries not to stare. It's kind of hard. There's a lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach. He has no idea if Sam is going to scold him or be nice. He just dethroned everything Tommy had been taught and now he wont fucking speak.
“So you don't think you deserve to eat because I’m giving you the food and you haven’t done anything for me today?”
Tommy nods, if he speaks he might cry. Because it’s not just that. Tommy doesn’t deserve Sam himself. Sam is everything Tommy wants and isn’t. Sam deserves the world.
Sometimes the deserving thing isn’t always bad. Sometimes he’ll go days, even weeks without thinking about it. He’s taken food from Sam without giving anything in return before, today was just… today was just bad. Today was new, it was an outlier, Tommy doesn't normally have this problem.
“Tommy, I don't know everything about you, about what you’ve been through. And I don't pretend to… but I do know you. You’re- You’re a great kid. Fuck, Tommy, you’re an amazing kid. You’re so funny, I’ll be eating with Fran and a joke you made hours ago pops into my head and I can't stop laughing. You’re a hard worker, and sometimes I think if it wasn't for me you’d work yourself to death. You’re loyal too, when anyone dares to say anything negative about Tubbo you’re the first one to jump up and defend him, you wear your heart out on your sleeve. I’ve never met anyone like you. Someone who’s so passionate and full of love the way you are. Its incredible, Tommy, you're incredible,“
Tommy feels a tear, hot against his face fall down his cheek and land in his lap. He sniffs but doesn't wipe it. He's not used to this, open praise. Someone going through all the great things about him, all the parts of him they like and Tommy… can’t handle it.
He wants it to be true. Because even though he knows he's not the best, he does try. He tries to make people laugh and he tries to take care of things he loves. Sometimes its stupid and pointless but Tommy couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try. He wants there to be someone who looks at him and sees how hard hes trying. How he drags himself out of bed to go to therapy becasue he wants Puffy to have clients. When he's feeling low but goes to see Tubbo anyways because he loves his best friend. When he stays with Sam even though he wants to run.
The idea that someone sees that, sees more then the mistakes hes made and the fuck up he is- he needs it to be true.
“Nookling,” Sam whispers.
Sams only called him nookling a handful of times, like Tommy is Nooks little worker.
It makes him happy and he refuses to admit it. Happier then even kiddo, it makes him feel like he’s floating.
Sam puts a hand on his knee, Tommy looks up.
“No one. I mean no one, not even Dream, needs to earn the right to eat. It's a basic right Tommy. And more than that, you don't have to deserve every nice thing you get. If you appreciate it, if you love the people who give to you, you don't have to earn it. You don't have to earn every time you come over, you don't have to earn my protection. You just have to be you, Tommy.”
“I don't believe you,” Tommy whispers. He wanted it to be angry but his heart was pounding against his ribs and it hurt too bad for him to fight it.
“I know,” Sam says and he smiles sadly, “but let's start here. Okay? I’m going to make you something and you’re going to sit and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”
No. No, I can't because Dream will be mad.
But Tommy doesn't belong to Dream. Dreams' opinion doesn't mean jack shit because he's gone.
All Tommy has to do is enjoy a fucking sandwich. It's not deep, there's no hidden meaning or trick behind it. Having a nice lunch isn't a test of his morals or who he is as a person, it's just a part of a good day.
Tommy can do that.
Tommy can sit here and talk and eat and laugh with Sam.
“Thank you,” is what Tommy says because he can't think of any other way to put it. There is no other way to put it because Sam once again was just Sam. Tommy wanted to hug him, he wanted to sob and cry. Tommy had someone who wanted to protect him and feed him and love him.
‘You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me,’ Tommy thinks while he stares up at Sam.
“You don't need to thank me Tommy,”
“No,” Tommy says and it comes off as stern, “Thank you. You help me. More than you know.”
And Sam shifts his arms just a bit, an invention but not an obvious one, it's subtle.
Tommy hugs him, he hugs him tight around the waist and he doesn't let go for a long, long time. Sam hugs him back, he rocks them gently and pets the back of Tommys head. He holds Tommy closely and Tommy puts his face in Sam's shoulder, he smells like pine needles.
It's their third hug, not that Tommys counting, and once again it feels like safety. All of Sam's hugs feel like safety. Like being with him is all the protection Tommy could ever need. When Sam rubs his back or rests his chin on Tommy’s head, that's safety.
And it feels a little like home. Home in a way he can't explain.