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Tommyinnit didn't consider himself to be a family man. He was a big man, who didn't need people coddling him all his life. He didn't need his older brother telling him everything would be ok, he didn't need his younger twin offering him help without question, he didn't need his parent...
Well, maybe, just maybe, if it was late enough at night, you could get him to admit he missed the weekly letters. From Sky, asking about how he was doing in the new SMP. From Solar, asking if people were giving him trouble again. From Wilbur-
It hurt to think about. But he didn't miss them, of course he didn't.
He'd stopped writing letters during exile. Dream hadn't forced him to, this wasn't something he could blame on Dream, it was his own damn fault. It was for a stupid reason too, he was, well, just too damn embarrassed.
When Dream made him give up his armor and his items, everything that wasn't completely necessary, he'd demanded Tommy's amulet too. Gold and circular, it had hung from Tommy's neck every moment of every day since he'd gotten it. He'd shined it regularly, made sure not to let the large bright red gem in the middle ever get scratched, and replaced the golden chain the couple of times it'd gotten damaged beyond repair. And yet Dream told him to give it up.
He'd been too weak to refuse.
Tommy couldn't stand reading Sky's letters for weeks after that. ...They'd be so disappointed if they knew.
He briefly wonders what would've happened if he'd been honest with his parent about what had happened. About everything Dream had done. About his own thoughts, his terrible thoughts, that he'd been told was PTSD. Would anything have changed?
Would Sky have saved him?
He pushes the thought out of his head before he could linger on it too long. Sky was important and busy, they couldn't be distracted with Tommy's problems, especially when they were his own fault. It was better not to have told them. He had to be a big man on his own, that's the whole reason Tommy had left for the DreamSMP.
Still, during one of their weekly therapy sessions that Tommy totally didn't need but went to anyway, Puffy had urged for him to try writing letters again. They didn't have to be weekly, she had said, but that it was a good way to reach out and not be so isolated.
So here he sat, staring at a blank piece of paper. Why was he even trying to do this again? This was stupid. They didn't care anyway, they probably were relieved when Tommy's letters had stopped.
Solar's letters had stopped pretty quickly once Tommy stopped returning them. There'd been one exception, on Christmas where Solar had sent him a gift of a collection of potions and a small note. Dream had intercepted it though, snatching the items once Tommy had opened it.
He'd never even gotten to read the note.
He wonders briefly if Solar was hurt Tommy never sent anything in return. Then, just for a moment, wonders if Dream had intercepted anything else he'd been sent.
Tommy quickly moved on. The possibility was too depressing to think about.
Sky's letters, however, had persisted for quite a while after Tommy had stopped writing them himself. Nevertheless, slowly but surely they slipped from every week, to every other week, to once a month, and then to not at all. He wonders if part of the reason is because he'd never sent anything for their birthday.
Tommy groans, softly. He wasn't even in exile anymore at that point, he really had no excuse. He was such a shitty son.
He glares daggers at the blank piece of paper, as if it was its fault he had burnt every familial bridge he had.
Finally, he hesitantly picks up his quill. He couldn't go into therapy next week and admit to Puffy he'd been too weak to do this one simple little thing. And so, every part of him screaming against the flow of ink on the page, he starts writing, to the one of the two it would be less painful to be somewhat honest with.
"Dear lesser twin..."