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Tommy wasn’t quite sure what it was.
He wasn’t quite sure why on that day, it’d hit him so hard, but it had.
The realization that this wasn’t how he wanted to live.
He didn’t want to spend his life fighting, he didn’t want to spend his life running. He was tired.
Tired of the pain and the struggle and the knowledge that no matter what he did, no matter how he tried to escape, it would never really work. Dream would always find a way to bring him back.
Always.
He didn’t want to live like this.
So… Why did he continue on?
The thought had been buried deep in his mind for months, even years now, but he never took the time to consider it. Why did he put up with this? Why did Tommy spend every waking hour in pain, only to have his strife ignored?
Another thought flooded his mind, this one admittedly more sinister, but Tommy welcomed it with open arms.
Dream couldn’t revive him if he couldn’t find the body.
Tommy knew what he had to do.
Looking over to the hills in the distance, Tommy smiled at the setting sun for the last time. He stepped into the community Nether portal and let out a slow breath as purple clouded his vision.
As Tommy made his way down the same path he’d traveled over oh-so-many times, he thought of everything and nothing. He remembered the day he’d joined the server, and the chaos he’d caused, and how Dream at the time had seemed like no more of a threat than the pet fish he kept at the community house.
He thought of Tubbo, who’d joined him just days after. Tubbo, who always knew how to make him smile. Tubbo, who’d stay up with him late into the night, just to help Tommy fall asleep. And yet the same Tubbo who’d exiled him.
He thought of Wilbur, with his messed-up hair and smirking grin that Tommy thought was so cool. Tommy had been young then. He had aspired to be like Wilbur in every way he possibly could. Now, Tommy was glad they couldn’t be more different.
He thought of Ranboo, who he had begrudgingly taken a liking to over the past year. Or, well… Ghostboo now, he supposed. Either way, he and Tommy had become friends.
As Tommy made his way farther into the Nether, he thought of the disc wars. And the war for L’Manburg, and Doomsday, and when they put Dream into the prison, and when he died for the first time, and however many times he’s died since then. (He’d lost count.)
Wow. A lot of his life really had been spent fighting, huh?
Tommy took a few more steps along the wiggly path. Tubbo had joked about it once, he was pretty sure, a few years ago. Tommy couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said, but he remembered it being funny.
And then… He stopped.
Looking down onto the endless pit of molten rock below, Tommy didn’t feel a single ounce of fear. This is what had to be done.
His toes curled slightly in his shoes as the tips of his feet dangled off the path, and only then did he question himself.
Did he really want to do this?
He thought of everything he’d be losing, everything he’d miss out on if he jumped. He would never again get to laugh with Tubbo, never again get to have a petty argument with Wilbur over something stupid.
But he would also never again have to have those nightmares that left him shaking alone in his bed for hours, until well after the sun had risen in the morning. He would never again have to watch behind his back while he walked on the Prime Path, because there was always a chance that Dream could be there. Waiting.
He would never again have to feel the utter excruciating pain that was revival.
He would never again feel pain.
He would never again feel.
Did he really want to do this?
Yes, he thought with conviction. Yes, he did.
So Tommy jumped, leaving all his good memories where his feet had last stood on that wiggly path he’d built so long ago.
As Tommy hit the pit of lava below, he welcomed the burning sensation. It hurt, yes, but Tommy had never felt more at peace.
A fleeting thought of whether he would return as a ghost or not crossed his mind, but Tommy knew he wouldn’t. He had no unfinished business left to fix.
WIth a final smile, directed at nothing in particular, Tommy let out his last breath.
And he was dead.
~
It took three days for anyone to even notice he was gone, and even then, no one questioned it.
Tubbo was the first to find out.
He was walking alone in the Nether, trying to find somewhere that hadn’t been mined out yet to replace his old netherite pickaxe.
Unbeknownst to him, Tubbo was walking along the same path Tommy had just a few days prior as something shiny caught his eye on a rock below him. After debating internally with himself for a few seconds, he took a long sip of a fire resistance potion and jumped into the lava below, his actions almost exactly mirroring those of Tommy.
He swam through the pit of lava and pulled himself into the rock. Carefully climbing along the jagged edges, he made it to the shiny object and untangled it from the peak it was perched upon.
It was a compass.
Tommy’s compass.
The one he’d been given to match with Tubbo while he was exiled.
With no proof other than this old and slightly burnt object, Tubbo came to the realization of exactly what had happened.
Tommy had died, hadn’t he?
Oh. Well, then.
~
The next to find out was Wilbur.
Tubbo had shown up at his house late that night, with tears stained on his face and a hand clutching a small object close to his chest.
When Wilbur heard the news, he simply nodded and thanked Tubbo for passing along the information.
Wilbur couldn’t say he was exactly surprised, but it took him a few seconds to comprehend the fact.
With a hardened expression, Wiilbur simply turned away from the door.
He should care, shouldn’t he? He should be upset, he should be crying like Tubbo. Tommy was dead, for Prime’s sake!
But as hard as he tried, Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to be sad. He couldn’t bring himself to care at all, actually.
Oh well. He never really liked Tommy much anyways. He was always more of a nuisance than anything else.
~
The last to find out was Dream.
It went about as well as you’d expect, which is to say, not well at all.
Dream spent hours looking for the body, but to no avail.
Tommy couldn’t be revived without his body, Dream knew, but he attempted desperately to prove otherwise.
With one last thought of hope, Dream went to where he knew the memories of Tommy were the strongest. Where once stood the proud nation of L’Manburg.
Dream made his way to the center of the deep crater. Kneeling down, he pulled out the revive book, and started the ritual he’d done so many times before.
Only this time, it didn’t work.
And so Dream sat there, finally accepting the fact that he’d truly, once-and-for-all lost this game he’d started the day he invited Tommy to the server.
Dream couldn’t help as a silent tear rolled down his cheek.
He was still a human, after all. A terrible, terrible human capable of cruel things, but human nonetheless.