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Some things are beautiful, and some are not. It is easy to decide which is which, and there is no need for contemplation in between. You will look at a thing and think, that’s beautiful, or, that’s not, or you may think nothing at all.
A good example of this humanoid phenomenon is the absolute beauty of an island. A very specific island, in fact. Small, bright green trees, a clear sky, and a warm breeze. A light, happy in contrast to the dark inside the boy by the camp. He and one person knew that the equilibrium was off by more than a little
It was tightly clenched fists and sleepless nights. It was unfinished business and manipulation. The only thing Tommy knew was this inconvenient, pain in the neck game. Every day, he jumped at every little noise he heard, and when it wasn’t Dream, the pit of guilt spreading through his body only made him walk faster.
Dream. Dream. Poignant Dream.
Tommy was too familiar with the cruel not-god. It was almost every day he came by, taking Tommy’s things and blowing them up to teach him a lesson long forgotten. He took everything. He even once found a secret stash of his things under the faded red tent.
That day was Tommy’s least favorite day. It was something he wanted to forget. Dream’s voice haunted him to this day.
“Get in the hole, Tommy.” He ordered, gesturing to the hole in the ground where both sticks and blocks of some of the most powerful TNT on the server sat, looking almost innocent.
“But- Dream, I- Let’s talk this out, man!” He stammered, internally shaking. “How about if-”
“This is a lesson to be learned, not a negotiation.” he interrupted violently, this time pulling an axe out of the void.
Tommy’s heart started pounding. He could hear it in his ears. Dream was quickly walking towards him, backing him into the pit. He fell a ways down with eyes larger than dinner plates as he looked up at the smiling Dream who quickly lit a match. Tommy closed his eyes tightly.
“Goodbye Tommy.”
He shook the memory and stamped on it, for what came next was unbearable to even think about. The memory was still as fresh as the holes in the ground and the copious amount of dried blood next to them.
Tommy swiftly looked away, his breath quickening. He clutched the compass in his cold, quivering hands. He turned it so the messily etched your Tubbo on it was facing him. He knew that he should be upset with his old friend for getting him into this, but at this point, at least when Dream wasn’t there, he felt at peace with himself. Tommy hardly ever had the feeling of serenity this strong before he went into exile, but now was ever so different from then.
He closed his eyes and thought. Not about Dream, he had enough nightmares about that creature as is. He went back in time to when he and Wil would go mining together. I miss those days. Once he accidentally stepped on Fundy’s tail and he was upset for two hours. Fundy can’t hold a grudge. Sitting by the glassy river by the hot dog van searching for four-leaf clovers while Tubbo awed over how cute the bees were. ‘They match so well with the sunflowers!’ he once said, and he didn’t remember much about Eret; he was always on business of some sort.
“I wish I was home.” Tommy sighed and closed his eyes, hiding the compass from his view. “I wish I was home and I wish that I never handed Tubbo the presidency and I wish Wilbur was still here.”
“Do you?”
Tommy jumped out of his skin and his eyes flew open. The compass could not be seen by Dream.
“Hey… Dream. Uh- didn’t expect you this early.”
“Yes you did, and we are not going to ignore the first thing you said.” He smirked. Dream motioned for Tommy to stand up. Before he could, Dream started to walk to the water’s edge. Gods, Tommy thought, he makes even the beachfront look dark.
His figure in the not so far away distance was turned toward the water. He was quickly reminded of the compass that he had to hide. Tommy took one last look at the shining outside before inhaling and sliding it under the corner of the tent.
“Tommy. Hurry up.” Dream called.
Tommy stood, breathing in slowly, preparing for the worst. He shakily exhaled, tears forming in his grey-blue eyes. He took the neck of his shirt and wiped away all traces of the crushing sadness he felt at that very moment.
One step at a time, he was making his way to the bright green figure. He looked almost elegant standing there. Tommy imagined he would look faded and small next to the man he was bigger than. It was quite ironic.
Dream turned to face him, arms crossed, impatient, looking straight at the dirty blonde boy impatiently, making him speed up. The situation was bad enough already.
“So,” he started, turning back to the wavvy water, “you want to go home. Tommy, you do realize that you can’t go back there, right?”
“I’ve had enough lectures about this to know it, yea.” He answered untruthfully. He liked to keep what little faith he still had in Tubbo alive. “I know, Dream.” Oddly enough, he felt calm as he sighed sentences and listened to Dream’s nonsense.
His name tasted like orange juice after brushing your teeth, like sour grapes, abnormal. Tommy looked to the ground, eyes desperately searching the sand for something to focus on. Wilbur taught him that. To focus on a small object to keep yourself from lashing out. If only he was still here, still alive.
“I’m the only one left who actually cares about you y’know.” Dream uttered harshly, interrupting Tommy’s thoughts. “Surely,” he paused dramatically, “surely you remember what happened with Tubbo. There is no way you can’t. He exiled you, Tommy, and for what? Think about it…” he sang.
Tommy clamped his eyes shut, trying to close out the annoying voice slithering it’s way into his head and under his skin. All he could see in his head was Wilbur, Tubbo, and how he knew he would beat Dream’s stuck-up ass with an iron sword.
“Think about Wilby. He blew up a nation to save you. It wasn’t his unfinished symphony, it was yours. You were the only one who cared, who really cared about L’manberg.”
Tommy stood tense, fists clenched. It hurt to hear such meaningful words fall from such a foul tongue.
“When he said that, he meant that he put trust into your hands. He always knew you would do better than him. What would he say if he figured out where his baby brother is right now?”
The bitter lime smirked at the horizon before starting again, “Such undying love. Too bad it couldn’t last forever. Wow, that's ironic.” He grinned.
A single, unnoticed tear traced a line in Tommy’s face.
“Wilbur Soot was a fool. Being dead is the one thing he can actually get right. I know you agree.” Dream laughed.
Enough, Tommy internally screamed. He decided to make use of the balled hands and swung his fist over, aiming for the center of Dream’s face. Right where the center of the stupid mask used to be.
A sickening, loud crack echoed through the trees. Dream yelped and stumbled backwards, holding his nose tightly. Shiny red slipped out of the spaces between his fingers as he scowled at Tommy.
Dream reached behind him and pulled out a shiny diamond axe. A very transparent purple washed over the lethal-looking weapon like water. That was all Tommy needed to see before sprinting in the other direction.
This is stupid, he thought, breathing heavily, he is a professional fucking manhunter! Tommy made a sharp turn, making both him and Dream slide to the ground. Tommy scrambled forward, barely missing the axe that sliced into the ground right by his foot.
“This is stupid, Tommy!” Dream roared. Tommy knew it, Dream knew it, but Tommy fell prey to idiotic descisions.
He was losing stamina all too quickly. The only thing keeping him going was the pure adrenaline speeding through his veins. Tommy was back at the tent. He reached under the corner of the tent and felt the cold metal on his fingers. Dream was nearing.
He stood up and went to the other side of the campsite, in a blind panic. He looked at his hands and had to bite back a gasp.
“Oh, Tommy. How long have you had this?” Dream swung the compass around his finger by the chain.
“Give it back.”
“You care about it huh?”
“Give it back.” Tommy demanded, holding out his hand across the tent, trying to slow his breath to regain more stamina faster.
“It even says ‘Your Tubbo’ on it. How sweet.” he teased. “It is just so important that you feel the need to hide it from me.”
Tommy recognized the routine Dream was going through too well, “It’s the only thing I have left of home. Please give it back.”
Dream turned over the shiny silver compass, contemplating the various petals and thorns that would come with giving it back. Tommy has never wished for any sort of superpower, but today was an exception.
I wish I knew what he was thinking.
He stared down Dream hoping, wishing, praying that he would get back the only thing that was left of his home. The clearing felt so much smaller at that moment. The air was thick and the trees seemed to lean in towards the two standing on opposite sides of the tent. The burning silence choked Tommy as he continued to worry about the silver compass.
Dream’s eyes flickered up to Tommy, shooting him a toothy grin. He pulled a stick of TNT and lit it. No. He’s not.
He chucked the compass one way and the TNT the other. The confused Tommy leaped after the TNT, not noticing that something was thrown the other way.
He quickly snatched up the burning stick and threw it even farther away from the clearing, towards his tent in a frenzy. All there was left after the deafening boom shook the trees was a mess of burnt fabric and scorched ground.
“No.” He breathed in a quivering breath. “How could I be so stupid.” Shameless tears traced melancholy lines down his dirty face as his arms dropped limp by his sides. His mind was silent. No words, no memories, no sounds.
“Oh Tommy! Look this way!” Dream yelled joyously. Tommy jerked his head over to him, hoping with all of his heart that nothing would get worse.
Dream had the compass laying limply on the ground, the chain dirty and twisted, and right above it was his foot. Tommy gaped, one hand over his mouth and the other reaching out, wanting so desperately to grab the beloved object he considered to be good as home.
“I can’t believe it means this much to you.” Dream whispered, gently bringing his foot to the ground and bending to pick up Your Tubbo. “I’m so sorry, Tommy.” He was slowly making his way to Tommy, who was slowly backing up.
Everything in his body screamed run, run, run, but if he did, Dream would surely be right behind him, right? He seemed true enough this time, but there was still enough reason to grab the stick sitting by his foot and whack him over the head with it.
As Dream stepped forward still, Tommy’s eyes went back to their normal size, his breath was slowing, as he felt a strong sense of serenity wash over him. He knew this was unreasonable, but who else could he put trust in at this point?
Tommy heard a sharp, muffled noise and winced. Dream held his hand over Tommy’s and dropped a mangled, broken compass into his pale, bandaged hands. The chain had completely broken off, and the needle came off completely. Seven oddly broken pieces of glass reflected his shattered face. He crumpled to the ground, unable to feel, cry, scream, leave. To leave.
“Let that be a lesson on it’s own. There is no hiding from me, ever.” He walked out of the cold scene, leaving Tommy crushed on the floor, knowing he would never heal.