Chapter Text
Tommy refused the second Dream brought it up.
"Nope no absolutely not." He hissed, turning to his food as a distraction from the subject. "I'm a big man, I don't need theropay."
"It's pronounced the-ra-py first of all." George cut in. "And second of all, it's actually kind of nice."
"I even know someone you can talk to!" The heart of the coven put a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Therapists are trained to get you to work through your troubles."
"I've already moved on." Tommy insisted. "I've moved on from it all. From Phil and Wilbur and Tubbo and Sam. I'm not even in the SMP anymore!"
"Have you really though?" Dream slid his hand over Tommy's, sending comfort over the bond as the familiar's anxiety tripled, rubbing the top of his hand. "She'll help you learn how to manage your anxiety!" The feline grit his teeth as his hands began shaking.
"No." He still hissed, nails digging into the table. The shakiness in his voice could've been easily mistaken for anger, but Dream knew better.
"I'm not going to force you." He reminded, "I would never. It's just something to think about." He picked up his hand and rubbed Tommy's ear, encouraging him to relax. When Tommy finally, ever so slowly began eating again, his food tasted like... nothing. Still, he forced down more bites until he couldn't bear it anymore. After sitting and staring at it for a while, he stifled a small whimper. He felt Dream poke at his senses, realizing his pain quickly.
"Uhh..." Tommy felt tempted to shut off his end of the bond so Dream could no longer see nor feel what was going on with him, but didn't. He just sniffled weakly. "Uhh... 'm sorry..." he looked down, realizing his plate hadn’t even been halfway emptied.
"Don't even worry about it." Dream assured. "It's a common symptom of depression... can you eat a few more bites for me?"
"I can't." Tommy shook his head vigorously, tears rolling down his face. He put his hands on his forehead as the anxiety came back tenfold. Dream wanted him to do something- his witch needed him to obey but- "I can't. Usually I-I love food... I can't- I can't..." his breath escaped him as he whispered in horror, shaking intensely.
"Sunshine you need to breathe." George reached across the table. "We won't make you do anything."
"Don't." Tommy deadpanned. "Don't call me that. The other nicknames are fine b-but..." he gulped, taking in a deep breath. "Wilbur used to call me that. Before he started going crazy."
"Oh shit- I'm sorry Tommy." George quickly apologized. "I have an idea." He got up, digging around in the cabinets and drawers before finding a well used paper. He slid it in front of Tommy, and the boy realized it had a list on it. The top center of the paper read 'The familiar's Tommy's triggers'.
"You guys... made a list of things that bother me?" He tilted his head.
"So that we could avoid them." Sapnap clarified, standing up to move closer to the familiar. "You can write down anything that makes you upset and we'll avoid doing it."
"Oh. O-okay." The idea of them wanting to know what made him tick irked Tommy. He didn't like it, but he knew that there would be no other way to keep them from talking about his old life. It meant being vulnerable to them. More than that... it meant trusting them.
But they'd made it clear it was his choice. Which was already three steps ahead of his old witches.
"Well I need a fuckin pen don't I?" He deadpanned. There was a tense silence, before everyone broke out in laughter. He smiled, grabbing one out of George's hand and getting started on the list. It was that moment his mind decided to go blank. He knew there was a laundry list, but nothing came to mind. His eyes stung, from exhaustion or crying he didn't know. He just couldn't shove away the memories of Wilbur when he'd still cared. His heart ached as he thought of the time.
The feline let his head fall into Dream's shoulder, a small whine managing to escape his throat despite his efforts to force it down. Wilbur hated whining. Wilbur hated a lot of things, but gods did Tommy miss him. Pain and longing poked at his chest, hollowing out the space there. He felt his bond open a bit and Dream waved the other two out of the room.
"Hey hey..." Dream ran his fingers through Tommy's hair. The boy felt a sob build up in his throat, pushing his face into the witch's hoodie and whimpering. "Tommy... precious... what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry." His voice quivered with the apology. "I'm sorry-" it felt like betrayal, missing Wilbur so much when Dream was here holding him. He bit down a hiccup, squeezing his eyes tightly in a weak attempt to hold his tears back. Things were better now, weren't they?
"You don't have to apologize you nugget." Dream took in a deep shaky breath with a halfhearted laugh. "You're longing for something... you can tell me precious." Tommy couldn't help but peer through the bond, only finding genuine concern and sadness for him. Dream genuinely wanted to help him, not because he wanted to play hero like Tubbo or pitied him like Sam... but because he cared, and damn if that didn't make Tommy want to sob his eyes out.
"...Wilby." He admitted. "I miss him."
"That's normal." Dream assured, carding his fingers over Tommy's ear. "Wanna tell me about him?" The blonde nodded, hesitant.
Tommy carefully began projecting images and ideas of his good memories with Wilbur. He showed Dream the nights the brunette would play his guitar, ruffling Tommy's hair and swearing brotherhood to him, the loving gestures and words of how much Tommy meant to him. He couldn't stop it, but eventually the muddled memories of Wilbur's madness pushed their way to the forefront of his mind, and he just couldn't get his magic to shut off the bond as Dream learned of the darker times just before the festival.
"Why won't you just shut up!" Wilbur whipped around, hand smacking right into the skin of Tommy's cheek with such a force that the familiar fell back into the wall. The blonde only processed the corner of it meeting his head when he was already on the ground, slumped against the wall. "Shit- oh my gods-" Wilbur was next to him now, and though his thoughts were vague and far off, Tommy suppressed a mewl to call for his witch. Instead Wilbur searched through the bond, pressing against Tommy's head wound. "Toms can you hear me? Sunshine?"
The familiar barely heard the words, didn't process them as he groaned in pain. Wilbur looked at his hands, then Tommy's bloody face, in complete horror, tears rolling down his eyes before he hugged Tommy close. "I'm sorry." He whispered, pressing a weak healing spell into the concussed familiar's wound. It took the edge off of the pain. "I'm sorry please stay awake sunshine. Please-" his pleads caused something to stir in Tommy. "Help! Someone help! Tommy's hurt!"
Later, when Wilbur told the story of what happened, Tommy nodded with him as he lied, blushing in embarrassment as Wilbur claimed Tommy had been hiding the wound, and tripped. The fall had supposedly made it much worse. That was when Tommy learned that Wilbur was a liar.
It was the first time Wilbur had hit him.
It wasn't the last.
"Shit..." Tommy struggled to hold on, closing his side of the bond with great effort. He whimpered when Dream poked at his head again, silent tears rolling down his face.
"Tommy..." Dream whispered. And the familiar realized Dream was right.
"I'll do it."
"What?" The witch gaped.
"Theropay. I'll try it but if it's weird-"
"If It's too much then I promise to take you out." Dream put a hand on his heart, squeezing Tommy's hand with the other. "I'll set up the appointment now."
“Wait! I have a condition!” Tommy declared, getting the rest of the table to giggle.
“What is that?“ Dream asked, amused.
“You teach me your cool magic!”
“Deal.”
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“Hi! My name is Captain Puffy but you can just call me Puffy. I’m so glad to meet you Tommy.”
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