Chapter Text
Life in exile wasn’t so bad, really. Sure, it hurt that nobody visited Tommy- well, nobody but Dream - and that his best friend (ex best friend, his mind supplied) hated him. And sure he had to restart whenever Dream came by and his things were blown up. But things were fine, he deserved it for everything he did. He didn’t think it was worth all that, but it had to be true.
Tommy pointedly didn’t think about before exile; it made his heart ache and he didn’t have the energy to deal with all the emotions that came with that train of thought.
Thankfully, Dream’s visits were there to keep him afloat. If Dream didn’t come anymore, Tommy didn’t know what he would do. Ghostbur was there occasionally, but that wasn’t the same. He was pretty sure Ghostbur would forget about him the moment something else captured his attention, anyway. He could probably manage on his own, but what would the point be in that if his only friend didn’t care any more.
The only person he’d ever known that bothered to stick around. The only person who put up with him. He’d be even more alone than he already was, and he already nearly hit his breaking point as is. But.. he wouldn’t have to keep starting over anymore, or feel his ears ringing so sharply at another explosion..
Tommy didn’t want to think about that either.
----
With a sudden jolt, Tommy wakes up ice cold and drenched, the weight of the waves hitting his face repeatedly and pulling him under. He didn’t remember going to sleep, but then time seemed to melt into an indistinct haze in Logstedshire, only broken up by dynamite and a wide smile. He struggles roughly for a moment, dragging himself above the water to pull in another gasping breath. The chilled air stings his throat, not helped by the salt and the burning of his lungs.
It happened frequently, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hellish each time Tommy found himself choking awake in the middle of the ocean he (usually) resided next to. He didn’t know why it happened, just eventually resigned himself to the cold, wet clothing hanging off him, torn though it may be, and a less than pleasant trek back up the shore to Tnret. He really didn’t have much in the way of getting dry, or a change of clothes, but it was better than most of his other options.
So he spent a lot of time with damp, uncomfortable clothes, big deal. He’s a big man, he can handle a little water.
He could ignore the way every little shift of the fabric felt, and how it started to chafe after a bit. He could shove off the reactions, Dream didn’t like when he fidgeted after all. After everything he’s done for Tommy, everything he put up with, it was only fair (it wasn’t) that Tommy put in the effort to stop any of those little movements. It was a small sacrifice (it wasn’t) if it made Dream pleased with him, even if he didn’t show it.
It was really the least he could do.
He heaves himself onto the shore, lying there briefly as he catches his breath (and if his mind starts to wander and the sun makes its way across the sky faster than it should, well, nobody has to know), and goes about his day. Just, feeling significantly more unpleasant. That’s fine, Tommy’s used to it. It’s not like he has a lot to do anyways.
It’s this not quite in there, buzzing in his brain that makes him forget there was anything he was supposed to be doing at all. And if there was, it couldn’t hurt to let the feeling wash over him for a little bit. Like he could just sit there and stare, though not really looking at anything. If he didn’t interact with whatever he was doing before, it would be as if time stopped until he decides to be ‘real’ again. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling.
He remembered vague blotches of time, usually spent in Tnret sitting on the bed Dream had so graciously gifted him, his brain drifting away from him and pausing at the border of his body and reality.
Tommy remembered that day Tnret was set up. Dream watching him build and then offering the gifts. He’d looked regretful, saying how it wasn’t much, but really, no one else would help him. If a light, slightly moth-eaten blanket and honestly rather lumpy mattress was all he could spare, that was perfectly alright. It didn’t keep the elements out very well, most nights it was surprisingly cold being by the coast and all, but it was a nice gift and Tommy appreciated it anyway.
Sometime well into his thoughts, he’s looking up to see Dream staring down at him. Or, the mask is, but same difference. Tommy starts, despite Dream likely having been there for a solid moment already. He didn’t hear him approach, even though he’d probably been calling for Tommy.
“There you are. I was starting to get worried you’d left me,” Dream said, still leaned over him, concern echoing from behind his mask, even though the words were pointed.
“Sorry,” Tommy responded quickly after a minute, he knew Dream preferred him to answer quickly when he expected an answer, though it felt a bit like trying to sit up out of a thick pond of mud.
And then, “Leave? What, Dream, you’re my best friend! Where would I even go?” Tommy laughed half incredulously. Dream looked at him a little longer before letting out a short laugh, too.
“I guess you’re right. It’d be pretty stupid to leave the last person who cares about you.” If there was a smile in Dream’s voice, Tommy never heard it, not for the right reasons at least.
It stung a bit, though he knew Dream didn’t mean anything by it. He was right (he always was), nobody had even shown up to his party even with the delivered invites. Not a single person. Except Dream himself, of course. He didn’t want to be thinking about that day. It seemed Dream had the same idea.
“Anyway,” Dream started digging a shallow hole, “why don’t you throw your things in the hole so we can do something today?”
Ah. He knew it was a foolish, fleeting hope, but Tommy was briefly wishing, for just the barest of seconds, that Dream would forget or more likely, let him off this time. He hadn’t found much the day before, but even the chipped iron tools he had now had been a struggle to collect.
His dismay must have shown on his face, along with his hesitance, because Dream clicks, sounding disappointed.
“And here I was thinking you were going to be less trouble today. You know how this goes, Tommy, in the hole, Now.”
Tommy shuffles to his feet hastily, not wanting to annoy his friend any more than he already had. He pulls his armor off and dumps it in the dip in the ground, his tools following. The lit dynamite chasing soon after.
He still winces as it goes off with a bang, and feels a hand card softly through his hair. Despite knowing he let Dream down, and the explosion just before still reverberating in his ears painfully loud knocking around in his skull, he could just melt into the soft pets.
“It’s for your own good, Tommy. You know it’s only because you need to learn your lesson. No one else is willing to teach you.” The hand in his hair tightens minutely, starting to pull, before releasing him. Tommy subconsciously leaned after it, chasing the contact.
“You didn’t listen, but I’ll give you one more chance. You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood today.” Tommy stood still just a second with his mouth in a surprised ‘o’, before thanking him softly, nearly crooning in delight.
Even with his mistake (and several sneezes as he couldn’t get the smell of gunpowder out of his nose from before), Dream spent the whole day with him. He really didn’t know how it had turned like that, but if Dream wasn’t upset then he wasn’t going to remind him why he should be.
It wasn’t even that eventful, Tommy was just starved for human contact, and Dream just being there was as much as he needed.
It was a little unnerving at first that he would just watch Tommy as he’d go on with his tasks, but Dream had later explained that helping Tommy would only hurt him, and encourage him to mooch off of others. He was just looking out for Tommy, so he would learn to do things for himself instead of hiding behind someone else for everything.
He hadn’t really had tasks for today, planning to take it easier, but since Dream promised to spend time with him (and was disappointed he was letting himself sit around so often), Tommy wanted to make up for it by getting a whole lot done. It didn’t really help his productivity that for some reason, his ears were still ringing just the barest amount, an itch crawling its way up and down where they met with his skull, and there was a throbbing in his head that wouldn’t go away.
It was starting to get dark though and he knew Dream would be leaving soon. They made their way back to Tnret, Tommy hauling a good stack or so of logs back after their ‘outing’ with scraped up, ache-y hands. He’s a big man, it didn’t faze him! And Tommy said as much when Dream pointed out he was lagging behind. He didn’t realize it had gotten as dark as it actually had when they finally reached the camp, though.
“You know Tommy, you did well today,” Dream startled him out of his passing thoughts with the compliment, “Of course, I had to take over and make sure you actually got something done, but that’s only to be expected with you. You have to have someone around to tell you what to do, or you’ll just get into trouble.”
Dreams words were sugar sweet on his tired ears, and Tommy lapped them all up, preening. It didn’t matter how all his praise was followed either side with belittling comments, just that Dream seemed proud of him. Besides, he was usually right. There wasn’t any point arguing something they both knew.
So Tommy saw him off with a warm feeling inside, regardless of the cool air nipping his skin. It didn’t go away, but once Dream had left it turned hollow in his gut, reminding him just how alone he was.
He retreated to Tnret, putting away the last of the newly acquired materials, before settling on the rough blanket atop his bed. It was an exhausting day, but well worth it for the praise he was given at the end of it. There was a reason he usually tried to slow down on days like these though, what with his mind dragging behind by at least a few feet, and gravity seemingly tugging down on him more than usual. He hardly even noticed the scratchy fabric against his hands.
Well, hardly at first. But then he did, and then could not seem to stop noticing. It felt different, though nothing had noticeably changed about it. Tommy wondered idly if maybe he had brought it into the ocean on his semi-nightly ‘swim’, and forgotten about it. He really didn’t think so, but that was the only thing that might be different. Unless Tommy himself had just gotten worse at dealing with it. It was certainly possible, and he knew Dream would agree.
And what was up with the aching itch in his ears? It had been going throughout most of the day, and while he’d managed to ignore it while Dream had been there, not wanting to bother him and show that he really wasn’t capable, and he’d gotten it before, it was worse now. He didn’t think they’d been damaged in that afternoon’s TNT, and surely he wasn’t that gross, enough for them to get a rash or something equally nasty.
Maybe it was the salt water? He could only really hope, and he was itchy in a few other random spots so that was probably it. It was the only thing that changed recently.
Maybe it would just have to be another one of those things that’s true about TommyInnit now, like how his bones would ache, and his hands and feet would be constantly sore from gathering materials, or how the cold seemed to reach into his core no matter how much he tries. It didn’t used to be this difficult, he thought, but then he also didn’t use to gather them daily, or wake up drowning, or have so little to eat. Even in Pogtopia days.
That train of thought was also on the list of things to not think about.
----
There was something about the cycle of gathering materials and losing them that was in equal parts hopeless and comforting. At the least, it was routine, familiar. He knew what to expect and how he was meant to act. That had to be something.
That said, it made him feel desperate in a way that his first exile couldn’t hope to compare to. He needed something of his own. It made Tommy want to hide away where Dream couldn’t dream of finding him. Well, that wasn’t right either. Dream could be fun, on a good day. Tommy shook his head lightly to clear it, that wasn’t the point.
It’s not like he was trying to lie. It just, held him together in a way nothing else managed when he felt like he was about to fall apart into hundreds of tiny pieces. That if he did, maybe it would just be in a few easy chunks he could find his way back from.
It wasn’t even anything important, really. Just a few things here and there. He really wasn’t going to do anything with it. Maybe he could build up enough supplies that he could stand on his own anyway. Maybe he could make Dream proud. Besides any of that, the crevice he dug out was perfect, not open (unsafe, exposed, his mind provided) like Tnret.
----
Tommy can’t quite hear what Dream is saying, his words just running until they’re all the same. He just knows he’s fucked up big time. Dream is angry. If he would have been able to see under his mask, Tommy would see the dangerous flash of his eyes. He’s never explosive (not outside his actions), but cold and closed off. And honestly, that’s almost worse than if he just screamed and shouted.
But this time, it’s threatening, dark.
“Tommy.” He says, voice clipped and harsh, ”How could you betray me, your only friend. After everything I’ve done for you you repay me like this?”
Dream sighs, he sounds so sickeningly hurt, for a moment, how could Tommy. He pulls several unlit sticks of dynamite from his inventory. Tommy’s eyes widen. His stuff had blown up all the time, yeah, but never Tnret itself, not Logstedshire, not the last places he could call home..
Tommy shrunk back, pleas spilling from his mouth desperately “Wait- Dream, I- I promise, it’s not like that. I would never- I’m really sorry, I’m really sorry, please, please don’t blow it up-” He forgot himself, grasping at Dream’s hoodie still begging. He just yanks Tommy off by his shirt collar and knocks him to the dirt floor with a warning snarl.
“You know why I have to do this. You brought this on yourself, Tommy.” It sounds almost like he feels bad he has to do this. Tommy feels numb.
He’s only really just managed to sit up when the first blast goes off, far too close, and the ringing starts. There’s ash covering the ground and his clothes- actually, every part of him he can see is smattered in the stuff-, the heat from the explosion and the smell of gunpowder expelling from the blast site.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry- Can we not just- please, I’m so sorry, Dream-” The detonation floored him, and his vision was still blurry, being so close to the TNT this time, but Tommy couldn’t help the stream of apologies leaving his lips, almost on autopilot. He couldn’t be sure Dream even heard them as more TNT was set off around him (tearing Ghostbur’s build to ruin, the place he’d held as a haven in his exile despite everything, and now it was gone, nothing but smoking rubble-), hell he could barely hear, himself.
It seemed like hours but it could only have been a few minutes, everything he’d known for the past few months burning on the barest of breezes in a flash. Several flashes, actually. At some point, Tommy could really only sit and watch, watch as it fell to pieces in front of him. As his only friend destroyed everything he had worked for, again and again-
At some point, the ringing died down and he came back to reality enough to notice Dream speaking to him again, striding up from finishing his destructive task.
“The rules were simple. You just had to give me your armor and your weapons everyday. That was it,” Dream approached him, his voice frigid. “Hell, I even let you keep it, sometimes. I’ve done nothing but be lenient, and patient with you. And you still just couldn’t listen.”
Tommy’s brain was all sorts of mush at this point, he wasn’t even sure what he was saying in response just after saying it. It just went through his head and then right out. He could see in Dream’s body language though, that he was irritating the masked man.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Tommy. You can’t go to the nether. No one can come here. You are alone.” His tone was decisive, final.
And then he was alone.
---
He didn’t know how long he was sat there for, long enough surely for the sun to dip below the horizon line and the night chill to seep into his bones. Not like they didn’t already retain a permanent chill (he’d been cold for so long-).
When Tommy finally forced himself to move, drawing in a shaky breath, it was to survey the- extensive- damage. He really had nothing, now. There was barely anything left of the camp and, oh god, Logstedshire..
He didn’t remember building the tower- well, that’s not right, he did and didn’t, his body was moving on impulse with his foggy brain. So that’s where he finds himself, on a shoddily stacked tower well above the clouds. Tommy sat there for a good while, feeling the somehow even colder air prick at his throat and lungs (not even to mention the smoke he’d been inhaling). He’d come up here for a reason, but Dream had said he’d be here a long time. But, Dream couldn’t control this. It’s the one thing Tommy had.. But Dream was his friend.
Tommy’s head ached. Some part of him long buried knew the things Dream did weren’t okay. Weren’t things a friend should do. Maybe it was the altitude, or the cold, but Tommy felt a sense like he’d just rocketed back into his body fully for the first time in a long while.
He had to leave. He couldn’t stay here another minute, Dream or no Dream. And anyway, he’d had a terrible thought, one that shook his already delicate, shaken foundations. If Dream wasn’t his friend, then. Then what was he there for, if not to watch Tommy. It fit much too cleanly for his spinning thoughts to process in any solid way (It couldn’t be true, Dream had to be, if he wasn’t, who was?-).
He jumped down his makeshift pillar, but not how he had been planning to originally. It was tall enough to end things for him, he hoped, but falling into the water was still a safe landing. Safe enough, rather. He may have cracked a few ribs, and definitely bruised some things, but he could walk. That was good enough.
Wryly, Tommy thought it was lucky he had just made Dream destroy basically everything he owned, because now at least he didn’t have to grab much before being able to leave. Wait, that was wrong- Dream did that anyway, he didn’t do anything- But Tommy was always doing things wrong, so maybe it was his fault, he betrayed Dream- his head pounded worse, struggling against his internal conflict.
Maybe it was better to just not think about his friend Dream. What’s one more thing on the list of things not to think about?
He knew he couldn’t go through the nether anymore, but that didn’t leave him with many options if he was going to flee escape? leave. Tommy also knew he had to get going fast, so wherever he was going, he’d better decide quick. He had to get as far from the SMP, though he was already outside it, as he could. So, he looked down at the compass that was always hung around his neck, and started walking opposite the needle.
Every step would take him directly away from Tubbo, and with it, the entirety of his life up until his exile. Tommy had hoped he’d eventually be able to return, if not to return to L’Manburg, then to see her from afar, but he supposed that dream was as good as shattered now. Laid to rest just like Logstedshire. Just like Wilbur.
He did wonder how Wil- Ghostbur would react to all that, if he would even come back at all, before quickly shutting down that thought. Ghostbur had left, too, He didn’t come to the party either, even just to do his normal floaty routine. And he’d been the one to deliver the invitations!
Tommy shook his head, trying to clear it. His walking had been leading him through the forest he’d been in earlier that day, the memories like molasses to his thoughts right then. Eventually though, his shoeless foot hit something frozen and wet. He jumped back, toes already tingling from the snow. Tommy shouldn’t be surprised, it was kind of the only way there was to go. But, if this was the arctic.. then Technoblade had to live out this way.
So he kept going, now with a more tangible goal in mind other than just get away.