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"Oh yeah? Well why don't you go see him."
"Wait- wait wait wait- Dream stop fucking hitting me- STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP-"
Tommy gasps, jerking his head up as his senses are flooded. He can feel the ground bouncing and wood creaking- horses snuffing and hooves hitting dirt. He blinks. He's.... in a carriage? Finally, he opens his eyes, the sighs of horses and damp wood confirming his suspicions. He thought carriages had those... tarp things over them, but he guesses this one doesn't. Wait wait- no why's he in a carriage anyways? And why- he looks down- are his hands bound? He glances up at the driver, who seems to be wearing some sort of medieval armor. A knight? Guard? He doesn't know medieval terminology but this guy works for some sort of royalty he thinks, looking at the crest on his back.
The crest looks.... familiar. Tommy squints- it's a white... sun? Star? With shades of blue in it's background. Tommy swears he's seen the symbol somewhere before, but he can't really think too well, still reeling from the fact that one second he's getting his head beaten in inside of a molting hot obsidian box and next thing he knows he's prisoner on a carriage in a forest covered in snow.
As if his body had only just now realized the sheets of white ice, he shivers. His bloody blue cloak isn't much against the sharp winter air, especially when they're moving so fast. He looks down at said cloak, frowning a little when he noticed that one of the flower-designed buttons have been ripped off during his beating. He sighs through his nose, which seems to catch the attention of the guard, who glances back to him for a moment. "Ah, you're finally awake." The man says, facing forwards once more as the horses trudge along the icy path. "I've been meaning to ask you some questions ever since I found you at our borders, but you passed out as soon as I saw you." He explains.
Tommy blinks, frowning back down at his hands, tied together with rope. "Y-ou tie u-p randm' people you se-e in th' woods?" He jests, clearing his throat a little- only causing some blood to leak out of his mouth. He guesses the damage made by Dream hasn't fully healed since... whatever it is brought Tommy here. Is he dead? He should be. If so, this is a really weird after life. Maybe it's like that one Greek myth with the river Styx and this guy is just taking him to wherever he's going to be judged.
The knight chuckles, shaking his head. "Not unless they're strangers that have broken through the barrier protecting the empire. Prince Wilbur set that up himself, y'know? Not sure how a kid like you could break through it." The man boasts, pride edging in his voice. Tommy doesn't notice though, as he tenses at the name. Wilbur is a pretty common name but... he's allowed to be suspicious after waking up in the middle of nowhere after being beaten to maybe-death.
"W...Wilbur as in Wilbur S-oot?" He rasps, hesitantly. The man stiffens, his grip tightening on the reigns of the horses. He turns to Tommy once again, and though Tommy can't see the mans eyes from under his helmet, he can see the firm line of his mouth. "How do you know his highness' given name?" The guard asks, his once playful tone now replaced with stone. Tommy's brow furrows, and his fingers fiddle with an extra bit of rope hanging off of the knot. "What do y-you-" He pauses, the edges of his vision blurring and his breathing growing faint. His nerves feel like they're on fire, and he feels... too aware of his own skin.
"..d.....ki.....id.....KID-" The last thing Tommy sees is a panicking guard shaking his shoulders before everything goes black.
_-_-_-_
"I left you in there for two days and nothing interesting happened?"
"Dr- Dream please I can't-"
"Can't what? Can't handle dying? You've done it before and look! You're fine!"
"I'm NOT though!! Please Dream, j-just don't- DREAM-"
This time when he comes to, he's lying in a bed. The most comfortable bed he's ever laid in, if he's being honest. It feels like if he were to be laying down on a giant marshmallow. The thought of marshmallows makes his stomach grumble, but he ignores it, as per usual. He could sit up and try and find out what the hell is happening, but he's not a fucking moron. He's in a comfy ass bed for the first time in nine years- he is not getting up.
A knock rings out on the door of the room. Never mind then.
"Are you awake now?" A familiar, light voice calls out as the door creaks open. Tommy sits up to be met with hair as pale blonde as his and eyes much more blue. "Ph...Phil?" Tommy asks, brows furrowing. His father replicates the face, tilting his head with a confused chirp that sends Tommy reeling. The only hybrid noise he has heard in the last two months was the occasional vwoop from Ranboo.
"I'm... sorry, but have we met before?" Phil asks, wings- perfect, untorn wings- shifting uncomfortably behind his back. Tommy frowns, tilting his head back at the man. Like father like son, he supposes. "Yeah? You're... wait." He pauses, looking around the room. Satin curtains around the bed, ceiling taller than two Ranboo's, windows as tall as one, golden ornaments on shelves here and there that make his instincts purr in delight. He neglects the longing to hold the gold in his hand in favor of looking back at Phil.
He gulps, looking at the unmarred face of his father. Well- not entirely unmarred- but he does just look healthier over all, with a few less scars. "This can't be fucking happening-" Tommy sighs, pinching his brow and ignoring the pain that comes with messing with the bruises on his face. Phil lets out another chirp, and Tommy has to shove a snort down his throat. Gulping, he meets the crow hybrids eyes once again. "Philza Minecraft, what year is it?"
The older blonde's eyes widen at his full name, before he purses his lips. "1257 according to the Noxinian Calendar- why?" The man asks, sitting in a ornate wooden chair and scooting it closer to the bed. Tommy groans, ignoring the pain in his throat as he flops back down into the bed. "Before I answer your question, I have another." Phil snorts, making a go-ahead motion with his hand.
"Are you, Wil, and Techno... mayhaps.... immortal?"
Silence echoes around the room. He looks back over to the man, jumping when he sees his father's face directly in front of his, the man scowling. "How did you find out? Who told you?" He hisses, blinking a little when all Tommy does is roll his eyes. "Well if I tell you you're not going to believe me Dad." The man jumps at the title, scrambling away from the bed as if he was afraid of the bedridden blonde.
"...What did you just call me?" Phil asks, placing a clawed over his chest and looking at Tommy with a hesitant look in his eyes. "Phil, I know you're old but you can't be old enough to have lost your hearing already." The boy jokes, and he just knows that even a couple hundred years ago Techno and Wil have teased Phil about his age, if the man's eyes widening says anything.
Phil frowns, trying to cover up his uncertainty with a scowl. "How do I know you aren't just trying to get inside my head, pretending to be some son I don't know about? She- my wife would have let me know if she vwas pregnant again." Phil growls, fists clenching at his robes. Tommy's gotten good at reading people over the years though, and he can see the longing in his father's eyes. The longing for another baby.
Tommy should know better than to hope for his family to love him again, but the though of Phil wanting to take care of him makes his chest feel warm and his eyes water. "I know who Kristen is, Phil." He mumbles, looking at his father sadly. The mans shoulders slump, the angry façade fading away as he looks his future son in the eyes. "Who... who are you?" The man asks, his voice wet. And Tommy smiles, holding a hand out to shake. "I'm Tommy, and in a little over 700 years I'll be your son."
The boy still isn't sure if this is all real. If this isn't just hell waiting to strike. If this isn't just another game of Dream's. But he knows his father, as distant as they've grown. And he knows that the look of raw emotion on his father's face is genuine. Real. Instead of shaking his hand, the crow gently pulls on it until he can bring the boy into a hug. Tommy's eyes widen a fraction, and he slowly brings a hand to his father's back as the man holds him. It's... reeling, to be given such affection after so long of only having touch come with pain. Tears slip out of his eyes, and he can feel his father shaking with silent cries as well.
"I-... I can't believe I'm getting another baby in the future." The man chuckles, voice filled with pure glee at the thought of another son. Tommy sniffles, burying his face into his father's shoulder. "I'm honestly having- having a hard time believing that I'm h-here." He mumbles, his voice wobbling with emotion. "I haven't gotten to see you or Tech in a few months- Gods know I haven't seen Wil. It's.... It feels like a dream to hug you Dad." The blonde cries, the words he'd been meaning to keep locked away for the rest of his like spilling out of the flood gates.
Phil sniffles, chirping at his son with affection. Tommy allows himself to grumble back in the heat of the moment, and Phil pauses, pulling back and staring at the boy with awed eyes, hands on his shoulders. "You're a piglin hybrid." He whispers, and Tommy grins with all of his teeth, wide and happy. He nods, grunting an affirmation as he begins to feel himself become lost in his instincts. Along with that, he feels... something else. Something bad.
Almost instantly he realizes what's going on, and the smile is wiped from his face. "Dad?" He asks, as the familiar feeling of his nerves lighting aflame begins. Hearing his tone, Phil grabs his cheeks, frowning. "What's wrong, jewel?" He asks, seeing the pained expression in the boy's eyes. "I- I'm not sure what h-happens to me whenever I'm revived-" He sees the alarm in Phil's eyes as he says that, but he continues anyways. "-But just know that I'll probably be back. I- I love you, I'm not sure if I'll get to say that again soon." He stutters, the pain becoming unbearable as his ears begin to ring. He hears his father call his name one last time before he's out, his soul making it's way back to the bloody, lifeless corpse in a box.
"Instincts, huh? Must be pretty bad in there."
"Ple-ase....."
"Ohh, you don't wanna go back?"
"..."
"Well, you'll stop dying once you tell me what the fucks going on on the other side. It's not that hard of a question, Tommy."
"...."
"Sigh, alrighty then. See you in a few days."
He opens his eyes to see green cloth, and hears talking over his head. His fuzzy brain allows him to note that it's his father who's chest he leans against, the vibrations of the man's voice comforting to the piglin. He snuggles closer to the warmth, grumbling. The talking above him stops, and he feels more than hears his father chuckle. "And that's the part I thought you'd like best, Techno." Phil says, running a hand through his newest boy's hair. "He's piglin."
After a beat of silence, as well as a chuckle from someone that isn't Phil, Tommy feels different arms wrap around him, cradling him to a much warmer, and much broader chest. He grunts pleasantly, opening an eye and meeting the familiar, iridescent red of his eldest brother. Technoblade. He blinks, allowing the older to run a hand over his golden curls with a soft rumble. "Tech?" He asks, as if trying to confirm what he's seeing. The pinkette smiles- honest to God smiles- and leans closer to knock their foreheads together. "Hello there, little one. I'm guessin' you already know me since you're from the future or somethin'." He jokes, and Tommy giggles, nodding.
"Yeah. You're real different in the future." He hums, leaning his head onto his brother's shoulder. He sees the man wanting to ask, but before he can a lighter, smoother voice interrupts him. "My turn with the golden child!" The voice calls, and Techno growls lightly as Tommy is scooped from his arms. Tommy looks up in bewilderment to see none other than Wilbur Soot. The brother who died several months ago to his father's sword. The brother who died a terrorist.
The brother that, after all this time, Tommy still loves and misses with all of his heart.
"Wilby?" He asks, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of his brother- who'd honestly always been the best looking of the family, even on his deathbed. The man blinks at the tears, and he hears concerned chirps and grumbles from the other two in the room. Tommy, blinded by his grief, wraps his arms around his brother's neck and squeezes in a tight, loving hug. "You're alive!! You're alive you're alive holy shit- thank Prime oh my Gods- you're alive!!!" He sobs, his voice muffled from the fabric of his brother's fancy looking blouse. Makes sense, seeing as he's a prince at the moment.
While having his episode, he misses the horrified looks the other three give each other, all of them understanding that Wilbur had died in the future. Unanimously deciding to dwell on it later, Wilbur hugs his brother back, sitting down on the bed between his father and twin. "Shhh sh sh, I'm right here runt. It's okay." He whispers, chirping every now and then. With haste, Techno stands up and walks around the room, opening and closing drawers before coming back with a hand-full of golden accessories. Looking at the boy's hair, he'd decided that rose gold was what he'd go with, along with some light bronze. Bronze doesn't really have the same affect as gold does on piglins, but it still helps calm them down- much like how emeralds build more connections if received as gifts. Each stone or jewel has it's own purpose in the piglin world.
With the gold and bronze applied, it doesn't take long for Tommy to regain is composure. Tommy's cuddled up between Wilbur and Techno when Phil sighs, finally breaking the peace with some much needed interrogation. "I'm sorry to do this to you Toms, but I have a lot of questions. If there's something you don't want to talk about, we won't force you to. But... we definitely need to touch on some things." Phil explains, softly.
Tommy nods, knowing this would happen eventually. His father had always been a curious soul, before and after he was born and for better or for worse. "Go ahead." He consents, getting a ruffle to the hair from Techno.
Phil smiles, and it's a smile so warm that his eyes scrunch, and his cheeks wrinkle. Tommy's always loved Phil's smile, because he can't think of a time he's seen it in vain other than Doomsday, but even that was pained. "Thank you, sweet heart." Tommy grunts, smiling back at his father. The man chirps, before clearing his throat. "I... I think my biggest concern aside from how you're here is what you meant earlier by 'revived'." Phil starts, and of course his first question is probably the most heavy aside from the whole 'Wilbur dying' thing.
The boy's smile fades, and he looks over Phil's shoulder, staring at the wall as he tries to figure out a way to explain. "Well... there's- there's this guy named Dream." He starts, his mouth going dry at just saying the man's name. Wilbur squeezes his shoulder, egging him on. "Dream's in this prison that someone made- it's supposedly inescapable- and he's... he's done a lot of bad things to me, so I thought I could go visit him. Rub it in his face a little, get my closure, and leave." He continues, and his fingers begin to fidget with the necklace Techno had given him.
"Uh- something happened outside of the prison though, and it went on lock down. I was- am?- trapped in there for... a week I think? Maybe two, I wasn't really listening." He swallows, not looking up at his past family's faces. "And- uhm- the only reason Dream isn't dead is because he... has a way of bringing Wil back to life." Wilbur's chest spasms a little at that, probably in a gasp, and Tommy leans onto him even more. "But- I was beginning to think he was just lying about that to save his own skin. So we got into a bit of an argument and he... well, he killed me." He sniffs, shrugging a little.
The air in the room is tense, and he can feel the twins' grips on him tighten. He continues. "I woke up in the carriage that brought me here- super confused, obviously. After a few minutes though Dream brought me back to life, and since I didn't tell him what happened when I died he killed me again. I'm assuming this is just going to keep repeating until I tell him." He sighs. His tail aches to swish at the emotion, but he's instinctively kept his features hidden away ever since exile. Dream doesn't like Tommy's features- he said they're just keeping him latched onto the people that hate him. Tommy still kind of believes that, even if it sounds dumb.
Techno leans his head onto Tommy's, and the boy looks up to see the other three men looking at each other, each with a dark gleam in their eyes. "Do you know who his parents are, cub?" Wilbur coos, holding the boy's cheeks and making him face himself. Tommy blinks, nodding. "I know his mom- but please don't like. Kill her or anything- she's my therapist." Wilbur blinks at this, snorting. "Ironic." He mumbles, before Phil interrupts the two.
"We can deal with... him when the time comes. Are you up for more questions Toms, or do you want to wait until later?" Phil hums, grabbing one of the boy's hands gently. Tommy smiles a little, snuffling. "Sure."
They talked for a while after that, with many tears and such being shared as well some stern talking to's about how great Tommy is or whatever. He wasn't paying much attention to those- too focused on the fact that someone was saying that to him in the first place. It's when after tears where dried and love was given that Tommy begins to feel the pain of resurrection once again.
"Is there anyways that we can stop it?" Wilbur asked, panicked as he cradles a shaking Tommy closer to him. Techno looms right next to his brothers, grunting nervously and holding the boy's face, which is scrunched in his pain. "I- I guess Kristin is the only one who can really do anything? I wouldn't think she'd be able to do anything from the.. well the past." He stutters, his eyes close to tears. He's barely known this boy for a few hours but the fact that one of his sons, his youngest one, is in pain... it hurts, okay?
"WELL THEN ASK HER ALREADY??" Techno yells, which shocks the other two momentarily. Techno doesn't yell. He doesn't cry, doesn't yell, and rarely laughs. The fact that the piglin yelled is what really makes Phil throw himself off of the bed, ignoring the tightness in his chest that comes with leaving the boy. The man opens the window, flinging himself out of it and keeping his wings snapped shut, pursing his lips to try and quell the fear of dying as the ground gets closer.
"Huh... that took a little longer than usual. You're not trying to stay dead, are you? That's suicidal, Tommy, get over yourself."
"......"
"Awww, are you crying?"
"......."
"Ugh, stop being a baby, Tommy. Look, you're alive! And perfectly okay! Nothing is wrong!"
"......"
"Fine, I'll give you something to cry about."
"...."
"Oh, poor baby."
Tommy's eyes snap open, and he's sure his chest would be heaving right now if he hadn't grown so numb to this already. He's confused though; who was that voice at the end? After having a quick look around, he finds another reason to be confused. Where is he?
Instead of waking back up in the arms of his past family, he wakes alone in the same room he woke up in last time. But only, it isn't the exact same. Everything is dimmed, even though he can clearly see the sun peeping through the thick winter clouds, shining it's rays into the room. It's as if a black stained glass had been put in front of his face. Or sunglasses. Sunglasses makes a little more sense.
A hand makes contact with his cheek, and gently tilts his head to face the owner of it. His eyes widen as he meets the eyes of a woman he thought he'd be seeing little while ago. "Mum?" He asks, voice hesitant and shaky. The woman's eyes widen a little, her face only growing sadder. Tommy may not have known his mother growing up, the lady not really being able to visit the human world for the few years he was alive, but just the thought of her being even mildly upset makes himself upset in turn.
"Phil was right; you are tiny." She teases, though Tommy can see the tears forming in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug, her long, black nails gently brushing through his hair. "Hi, Tommy." The woman's smile is shown through her voice. Tommy's noticed that about her voice in her three sentences talking to him; it displays her emotion perfectly, to the point that he doesn't even have to see her face to imagine her giant grin and tear-streaked cheeks.
"Hi... Mum." He says. It feels surreal, being able to say that. He never imagined being able to actually talk to his mother, even if he'd died. He honestly expected her not to know who he was and just send him off. It's not like she'd ever seen him before. It's that thought that reminds him that he's in the past; so she probably is too. But... she's a God, right? Maybe time works different for her or something.
Feeling the squeeze from his mother's embrace, he doesn't think he cares too much about that at the moment. He's meeting his mother for the first time, 700 years or so earlier than he probably should be, but it's still her. It's still his mother. His mother who he has a few questions for...
"Mum, do you... know how this is happening?" He asks, painfully pulling away from his mothers chilled, yet comforting embrace. The woman takes a moment to answer, simply looking him up and down with the fondest of gazes. "I can't be completely sure as to why, but I guess future me saw the opportunity and took it." She pauses, before smiling. "I can't blame myself. You definitely deserve a break, baby." She hums, caressing his cheek with the back of her knuckle. Tommy heaves a shaky breath, leaning into the touch. His mother's skin is as cold as a corpse, ironically enough, but in a way that makes it feel like Tommy's just hopped into a cool river in the middle of summer. Nice, refreshing. He can't imagine he'll ever tire of the feeling.
They just sit there for another few moments, simply basking in each other's presence, before the Goddess sighs, letting the boy go one more time. "I have to send you back to the living world, Tommy." She sighs, and Tommy shares her forlorn look at the words. He can't be too upset though, because while their meeting was short, at least he did get to meet her in general. Seeing his sadness though, she smiles again, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. "But! Every time that sick bastard tries to revive you, you'll simply come here instead! You get frequent visits to your mumza for free, hon'!" She grins, and Tommy grins too, laughing a little.
"Okay mum... I love you." He says, a weight he'd never known was there lifting off of his chest once he says it. His mother chuckles, giving him one last hug. "I love you too, angel. Now go back to your father and brothers; I'm sure they're freaking out." Tommy laughs, before his vision fades to black.
_-_-_-_
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Dream mumbles, throwing yet another book into the lava as he stares down at Tommy Innit's corpse. "Not good, not good- does this thing have a fucking limit or some shit?!" He cries in frustration, his chest growing heavier at the lack of reaction coming from Tommy. There's no reaction because he's dead because Dream killed him and now he's not fucking COMING BACK-
Glass shatters against the wall as Dream chucks the clock at it. "FUCK!!!!" He screams, as a warden watches from his office, equally horrified as he is angry.
He should've let the kid out.
_-_-_-_
Hundreds of years into the future, Wilbur gets an invite to a server called the DreamSMP. He looks over at his little gift of a brother, who's leaning against Techno's chest while twisting a bit of metal into a heart, chattering away while he's at it. Wilbur smiles, turning back to the invitation as he rips the paper to shreds, tossing it into the fire. He much prefers the royal life anyways.