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Tommy had been happier.
Truth is, Eryn doesn't really recognize the guy anymore. Mostly. He's the same where it counts, if you can look past the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion, the white streak in his hair and the scars littering his pale body. Upon seeing him for the first time in years, Eryn had immediately grabbed for the white streak, giving a harsh tug - and receiving a squeal in response - and teasing that things in the Dream SMP must be pretty damn stressful for him to be growing white hairs; Tommy had swatted and snapped at them and yelled at the top of his lungs that he was going to kill them, and it was all fun and games, Eryn thought, until they saw the way Tommy's hands were shaking afterwards despite the grin on his face. And Eryn's not stupid, and they're not blind, and they know their friend - and they know him well enough to know when he's afraid.
And look, Eryn's not one to tiptoe. They don't sugarcoat, they never have and they're not going to start now. But they don't mention the way Tommy flinches and jumps at the slightest, unexpected sounds, and they don't mention the way he looks like absolute fucking shit, and they don't mention the white streak. They laugh and they joke and they tease and they poke and prod and hit and, eventually, with some not-so gentle coaxing, Tommy leans back into their old dynamic. Like riding a bike for the first time in years, once his feet find the pedals again, Tommy takes off and it's glorious. It's beautiful. And just like that, he's the child that Eryn remembers.
He's loud, he's annoying, he's laughing and screeching and yelling and Eryn practically absorbs his energy, taking it in and exuding it right back. They watch Tommy's confidence grow with each second, and it isn't long before they're romping around just like old times, exchanging playful smacks and punches and threatening each other's lives the way they always used to. Eryn relaxes, because it's impossible not to in Tommy's presence. Sure, he's loud and energetic, but that's what soothes Eryn's nerves. That's what puts them at ease around the boy. Now, they don't know what's going on with Tommy. They have no idea. The white hair? The flinching? Nah, nah, nah, Eryn doesn't know what's going on and they don't want to get into it. Not yet, at least. Maybe later, maybe once they've settled in, maybe once Tommy's more comfortable. Because he is comfortable, mind you, but he could be more comfortable, and Eryn is very well aware of that. So they don't say anything; they shut their mouth, smile and move on.
But Tommy had been happier. The sparkle in his eyes used to be brighter. He's still beautiful when he smiles, still lights up everything around him the way he used to, but not nearly as much. Eryn doesn't know what happened to him, they don't know what he's gone through in the time they've been apart, but they know that whoever's responsible for it is going down one way or another. And they've heard rumors. They've heard rumors of a specific man locked in prison.
(Or at least, a specific man who should be locked in prison.)
Dream SMP isn't ready for them, Eryn muses. Nobody's ready for them.
Neither is Dream, himself.