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“So what did you think of Tubbo?” Wilbur asks.
Tommy takes a few minutes to respond. He stares out the window, humming as he stares at a robin hopping around. It’s very distracting and requires his attention, so maybe Wilbur shouldn’t have interrupted his birdwatching. But maybe he’s a little nervous to respond. Only a little, though.
“He’s nice.” He simply says, and pointedly keeps his eyes on the robin as he feels Wilbur shift next to him.
But the man doesn’t press more on the matter.
Meeting another mer like Tubbo had been mind-boggling. He’s been taught his whole life that other mer were unruly and violent- and from his limited life experiences, Tommy believed it. Yes, he knew big, scary Techno had been well-mannered around him and Sam had helped him calm down after his run-in with Punz, but it was different meeting someone his own age. It felt more real. Tubbo was like him, abandoned by the sea and thrown into the hands of humans. But where Tommy was spirited away by someone greedy and cruel, Tubbo was taken by people open and loving.
Tubbo had loved Tommy’s fish. He had praised them, saying Tommy must’ve looked after them well. Henry zoomed around them, playfully pecking at Tubbo’s fingertips.
It still feels unreal- staring into Tubbo’s bright eyes, watching his mouth stretch into a smile. Feeling so at peace.
He wants to talk to Tubbo again, to all the other mer. Tommy wants to learn more about them and their ways, their culture that should’ve been his and was ripped away in that glorified fish tank.
But vocalizing that is still hard for him. As much as he wants to make demands, he’s still worried about pushing the line, breaking a rule, and suddenly being punished. He knows he should accept punishments but- but he doesn’t want to. He won’t. Not anymore.
So Tommy doesn’t say anything more. Tubbo was nice. Tommy watches another robin swoop down to join the other.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
The world of animated movies is a new and fascinating one to him. Watching them is an enjoyable pastime since it’s so low effort yet extremely fun. He especially loves Up, from the music composition to the silly characters, to the heart-wrenching plot. It’s the most beautiful film in existence and he’s made Wilbur rewatch it three times in a row with him.
As soon as the credits start playing he moves to restart it, but Wilbur jerks the computer away from him.
“How about we watch something new?”
He pouts, “I don’t want to watch something new. It’s gonna be boring.”
“You won’t know that until we actually watch something else… please?”
“... Fine. But when I don’t end up liking it, we’re going to watch Up again.”
“Yes, yes whatever you say, Tommy.”
Wilbur puts on something called Moana. It’s about the sea, but humans who live by the sea. He knows there are movies about mer out there- some even directed by mer or have mer actors- but that’s still a little too weird for him. Animated movies mean he can suspend all disbelief and just have a fun time.
… a fun time, except, as he watches Moana struggle with her journey and throws the heart into the sea again. His heart stutters as the sea calls out to her. Tommy swore to himself he’d sit through only five minutes before complaining to turn the movie off, but it had drawn him in. The waves looked so real and beautiful, everything so familiar yet new to him.
His heart soars as Moana approaches Te Ka, returns her heart, and Te Fiti blooms back to life. And-
And that’s when he chirps in excitement
It’s not a special moment, like when he first visited the aquarium at the facility and in his wonderment, let out a loud chitter he couldn’t bite down. Or when he tried watermelon for the first time and the satisfied warble left him so embarrassed he ended up choking on his food.
No, this was just him and Wilbur watching a movie. He’s cuddled up into the older’s side, blanket wrapped around them, and he feels warm and comfortable. The moment he felt the chirp rising in his throat he clamped his mouth shut, but it still vibrated up his throat so there’s no way Wilbur didn’t hear the hum.
Tommy still doesn't know how to feel about the noises he makes. It’s easier to slip into doing them around other mer, where they expect him to communicate that way, but it feels like some weird facade when it’s just him and other non-mer.
Nonetheless, his face is burning when Wilbur actually pauses the movie in response.
He braces. Dream hatted his chatter. Too distracting, too monstrous, how unnecessary, use words instead-
“Tommy, that was so cute!” Wilbur exclaims, wrapping his arms around the younger.
He coos like Tommy’s a fucking baby turtle or something, and he huffs at the attention. It’s stupid, he’s embarrassed and he wants Wilbur to shut up- but, something warms up in his chest that’s… pleased.
Everyone says they don’t want him to be so silent, so still. They encourage him to be more vocal about his feeling, but it just feels wrong after so many years. And then he does a simple little chirp and Wilbur fucking glows. It’s like Tommy’s solved world hunger rather than make a sound. It’s more than that, too. He’s still too nervous and quiet around Tubbo and the other mer, still a little cautious around the other humans as well. But Wilbur is his friend, and Wilbur makes him feel safe. It’s something he’d rather keep secret than broadcast to the world, but that means something to Wilbur, that Tommy trusts him.
But even if there’s a cold, unattended part of him that likes being praised for something so simple, it’s still embarrassing. He slaps Wilbur in the face and demands they continue on with the movie. Wilbur simply laughs and listens to him.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
Niki flips through another piece of paper.
“You should be in near perfect health now! We’ll be keeping you on your current diet so you don’t fall back into being underweight, but for the most part, you’ve made a clean recovery.” She smiles at him.
He nods along to her rambling. His scales are growing back nicely after all the repeated picking at them, and all his self-inflicted wounds are healing up.
“Oh,” She says, “but you are going to need shots. Just basic vaccines teens around your age usually get.”
He feels his fins flare up before he can stop the movement. Phil’s observant eyes don’t miss it. Protocol said he still needed two people with him during medical check-ups. He forces himself to calm down again.
“I’m fine,” he bites out before anyone can comment on it, “I just don’t like getting them. Getting shots.”
“It’s perfectly normal to get nervous, it can be scary.” Niki nods.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“We’ll do them in a month's time, how about that? It’ll give you some time to prepare, and the sooner you get them the sooner it’ll be over.”
He nods.
“Any questions?”
He shakes his head.
Niki and Phil chat about whatever- dates that will work for their next check-up, other pleasantries.
Tommy stews in his anxiety as Niki packs up her things and leaves the room. He watches Phil’s attention focus back onto him.
“You okay there, Tommy?” Phil asks.
He groans, “Yeah...”
‘You sure?”
Tommy grits his teeth, “Yeah.”
He can see Phil frown, but he doesn’t budge. Tommy can handle some shots, he wasn’t even going to get them today. There’ll be time to mentally prepare for it, and then it’ll be done just as fast. His anxiety over it doesn’t matter.
“If you have a concern, you could tell me and I could relay it to Niki? You seemed a little distressed when she brought up your shots.” Phil offers.
It’s annoying. Maybe, maybe he understands why people want him to be more expressive when he’s happy, comfortable, and content. But surely even they must see something too despicable, too monstrous when he’s acting up. The flaring of fins or the displaying of claws- even if they tell him every emotion is a valid emotion, it must be disgusting to them. It’s not civilized.
“I didn’t mean to- to show any ‘signs of distress’ or whatever.”
The man frowns, “It’s natural to express when you’re stressed, mate. You don’t need to dismiss your emotions.”
“But I am better than my instincts.” He says, “I was taught to be better than to be like that! I’m not wild, I’m supposed to be good. I can be quiet and still and do what I’m told- Dream said… Dream said I had to be better. Better than a monster.”
He gasps. Suddenly the air is too dry and his skin too scratchy.
Phil sighs, “When humans get nervous they start yelling. When avians get nervous their feathers ruffle up. Hell, when demons get nervous sometimes the lights start flickering out. And when mer get nervous… their fins flare up. Nervousness, fear, agitation- they’re all emotions we feel and express. There’s no one right or wrong way to show that. It’s not going to be pretty or nice, but it’s a part of the way we express ourselves. There’s nothing monstrous in feeling scared, that’s just feeling… and we all feel. Can’t stop that.”
His face scrunches up at that. Sure, everyone feels things but he can control them, quell any outbursts. He had in the past. It used to be so easy to not feel a thing.
He huffs and slides back into the water, ignoring any more chatter coming from Phil.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I really tried putting off this meeting, the higher-ups won’t listen to reason- you shouldn’t have to be dragged back into this mess-”
“I’m fine. Really. I feel ready enough to talk about how- talk about it.” He smiles roughly. It’s not as convincing as he wants because Sam just sighs again.
“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have to do this at all.”
“And I’m fine, Big S. I’m just gonna be asked some questions, give some answers, and be done with it, right? That’s easy, I love hearing myself talk.”
They say Dream and his associates were all locked up. Even Punz, who was detained hours after his break-in into Tommy’s room at the facility. There’s a huge court case boiling up, and Tommy’s testimony is a key part of keeping all the criminals behind bars for good.
He’s never been the one to have power over Dream, it was always vice versa.
Sam brings him up to a room half submerged.
“I’ll be right outside, if they pressure you or give you a hard time just give a screech. You’re not obligated to answer anything, you understand? So don’t push yourself.”
Tommy exhales roughly from his nose, feeling the bubbles of air tickle his skin. He nods.
Sam opens the door, and Tommy swims into the room.
It’s mostly plain looking. Below water, there are a couple of places jutting out from the floor for mer to lounge, and above water, there are a couple of armchairs and a couch. Sat next to each other on the couch are two people- a human and a demon.
He recognizes the duo. They were the pair that had visited his tank all those months ago.
“Hello, it’s nice to formally meet you, Tommy. I’m Skeppy and this is my partner Bad. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.” The human holds out a hand.
He returns the handshake, “No worries. What questions do you have for me?”
≈≈≈≈≈≈
Tommy feels like vomiting after the interrogation. The duo had been very polite, and at the first signs of hesitance, Bad had asked if he wanted to end their meeting. But he wasn’t a coward, he made it through the whole thing until the two declared they had what they needed, and if they had any more questions they’d give him a call. They said their goodbyes, wished him well, and they promised they’d give him the justice he deserves.
It was a lot.
Jumping from his tank to the mer facility had been so sudden it almost didn’t feel real. He hasn’t left the building since he came into it, so he can almost pretend none of the stuff that happened with Dream actually happened. One was fiction and the other reality. Maybe the facility was a dream.
It felt dissonant having his two worlds clash. It made him as uneasy as when Punz suddenly showed up, disrupting the dream had had.
Guess that just means it’s all painfully real, before and after.
Like throwing up, he regurgitated so much old filth from his mind. Yes, Dream put him on display for buyers. Yes, it was a common occurrence. Yes, Dream spoke a lot about the fighting fits he ran. Yes, Dream did this, yes Dream did that. Speaking about it made his skin crawl and all the old, bad memories felt closer to the surface than they had in a long time. He felt raw. And exposed
Sam wasn’t outside the door when he finally calmed down and swam out, it was Techno.
“There was a malfunctioning water filter Sam had to go fix, so I took his place.” The mer explains.
“Ah. I see.”
Tommy’s hands wander to his shoulders where they want to pick and tear at scales, but he stops himself before he can. Niki just praised him over his recovery, he doesn’t want to be fussed over again over some lost scales.
Techno gives him a questioning rumble.
“It went fine, stop being such a worrywart. I’m fine.” Tommy swims down the hall past him. He’s learned the layout of the building better- or at least enough to know where his room is.
His nerves are still a little fried, and he pulls back on his instincts and forces his fins to lay flat against him.
Techno stops swimming suddenly, and Tommy stills next to him. He looks perplexed for a moment before his facial expression smoothes out. “Are you doing that thing where you lie?”
Tommy pauses, too.
From what Tommy understands, lying is very uncommon in mer culture. Lying is a human thing. Mer are too open about their feelings to lie, so they just don’t. Tommy can, not very well, but no one expects a mer to hold out on them.
“... Maybe a little.” He admits.
Tommy continues on the path back to his room. Techno’s looming presence doesn’t send waves of panic into him like it used to. Instead having the intimidating mer by his side feels like he’s all the much safer.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
The other younger mer are just as nice as Tubbo. They don’t snap at him or berate his mannerism, but they are demanding.
“C’mon, come play tag with us!” A kid hisses.
“No, he’s going to going to play monkey in the middle with us!” Another child says.
Tubbo teases them, so it isn’t as serious as the little mer act like it is. The way they’re shouting and hissing it’s as if the world will end if Tommy doesn’t humor them.
They end up holding a vote, and tag wins. The boy advocating they play it blows a raspberry and immediately tags the girl who argued with him.
Tommy has never played tag before, and he’s barely left his room, but it’s fun. It’s foreign having enough space to freely swim around in. Even with all the mer zipping around in the water, there’s enough room. He follows alongside Tubbo who declared himself “the best player of tag in the world.” Their little trio lasts long into the game until Tubbo sacrifices Ranboo to the growing horde of children chasing them.
The two of them get cornered, but Tubbo turns to him, dead serious, and says, “Follow me.”
Then he leaps out of the water, rolling onto an alcove above the waterline. Tommy quickly follows (he’s a great jumper, he’s only been practicing for a couple of weeks but he can reach higher heights than Ranboo.)
The kids cry out that leaving the water is against the rules. Tubbo says they’re just sore losers.
Ranboo grins mischievously, making eye contact with them, and splashes at Tubbo. The smaller mer dashes away which-
-Which leaves the water spraying at Tommy.
Ranboo pauses, looking nervous. His mouth moves to say something- probably an apology- but Tommy ends up laughing. He wheezes at Ranboo’s flabbergasted face, because they’re mer, of course Tommy is used to getting splashed, and yet Ranboo looks so guilty.
Somewhere in his fit, he lets out trills of amusement.
He knows even when he unconsciously makes noises, they sound wrong. Unnatural. Stilted. And there's comfort in doing them around Wilbur or Phil who aren’t mer, but they usually react so strongly. It’s not bad, it can just get overwhelming.
What he likes about Tubbo is that he doesn’t make a big deal whenever Tommy makes mer noises. Like it’s normal.
Well, technically it is normal. Every mer is supposed to just openly trill and chirp whenever and wherever. But Tubbo just trills alongside him leaving Tommy’s chest feeling lighter, and then the two seek revenge on Ranboo. They successfully drag the mer up with them as a meat shield from the kids who want to tag them. They’re declared the winners of the game.
Maybe… maybe one day he won’t have to manually make a chirp whenever he sees Tubbo, Wilbur, Philza, or any of the other mer. Hopefully, it’ll just become something he’s so comfortable doing he’s forgotten it was ever something so foreign to him.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
Tommy doesn’t really get nightmares. Even now, his sleep is barely disturbed by the things of his past. They usually just consist of the random nonsense that dreams are supposed to be.
But tonight is one of the rare times that he does. He gets a nightmare about Dream and his old tank- the details blur away even as he’s waking up, but the terror sticks. He tries controlling his breathing, and he feels like he’s inhaling hard enough to burst his lungs, but it can’t be because he’s getting lightheaded. Panic eats away at his better senses as he claws at his arms.
A panicked call echoes throughout his room. It’s from him, he realizes a moment later.
Worry tightens in his guts, but that only makes him emit another panicked noise.
He used to get more nightmares as a kid. Dream would sit up on the catwalk and card his fingers through Tommy’s hair to calm him down- but only if he didn’t make any annoying noises. If he did, Dream would leave him alone until hours later, citing he was too annoying to be around.
Tommy doesn’t want to call for help. It was just a bad fucking dream and he’s fine he doesn't need help but his instincts betray him as he bites his tongue to stop yet another call.
He curls up, giving up on his breathing, even if the wheezing rings loud in his ears and his hands feel numb. He’s messed up. It wasn’t even real, why was he so scared?
The next minutes are a blur of hyperventilating. The door to his room opens and someone swims up to him, returning an answer to his call.
It’s foreign. He’s spent years biting back calls for help because they’d never get an answer. Only Dream’s disgust. Even in the safety of someone’s arms, another loud sound vibrates in his throat. They humor him and answer back. Then a rumble comes that calms his heart, and he finally looks up to Techno.
“Wilbur’s coming over soon.” The mer says stiffly.
“... It was just a stupid nightmare. He doesn’t need to.”
“Yeah, but he wants to. And he’s better at this comforting thing than me.”
Tommy drops his head onto Techno’s shoulder, humming in disagreement. “You got me to stop panicking, that’s pretty poggers in my book.”
He used to be terrified of Techno. He was big and scarred like a pit mer, and was the very picture of Tommy’s nightmares as a kid. He’s now very aware Techno is a huge softy and very protective of the pack at the center- which, somehow, now includes him.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
After a long day of Tubbo giving a tour of the facility, with the boy giving tips on how to navigate the repeating halls, the three teens lay in the central area of the main pool just chatting. Tubbo goes off about the wonders of beehives, and Tommy interjects with random fish facts he’s learned. Wikipedia is an amazing site he can get lost for hours on.
He yawns, feeling worn from all the swimming. It’s a little embarrassing being much weaker than someone who’s smaller than him, but that’s just what tank life does to a mer.
“It’s getting kind of late, do you want to go back to your room?” Ranboo asks.
Tommy is tired, his eyes have been drooping for the past ten minutes, but the swim back to his room feels so long and he doesn’t want to commit to it just yet, even if putting it off will leave him more tired when he does leave.
“I’ll go back in a minute, Boob Boy. I’m barely even sleepy.” He murmurs before passing out minutes later.
He wakes up when it’s still dark. He panics for a moment, unsure of where he is or who’s around him.
Then he registers someone curled up around his right arm- Tubbo. It’s Tubbo. It’s nighttime, obviously, from all the lights being off. He passed out. He passed out and now he’s being cuddled with.
Pressed up next to his left side is Ranboo. He can hear the other mer crowded around him breathing and snoring in their peaceful slumber. Tommy has never slept in a group like this before and he sorely loves it. It soothes a lonely part of him he’s never known existed.
Compared to the days back when every movement, every sound he had to make was a perfect performance every day and every hour, this is so much softer. In his tired state, he doesn’t stop the loud croon growing in his chest. And then he’s worried everyone will wake up, but Tubbo just digs his face deeper into the curve of his neck, and Ranboo’s tail curls more around him.
It’s almost restricting, being surrounded by so many people. But Tubbo’s warm cheek against him doesn’t feel like a prison, and the presences of everyone else feel more like they’re all there to- to protect him, rather than to hurt him.
Tommy falls back asleep quickly, and he wakes up more refreshed than he’s ever felt.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
“I’m not going.” He complains.
“Mate. You know you have to.”
“Make me!” He shouts.
Wilbur sighs a little. He hates how much it makes him feel guilty, but he doubles down on his defiance.
“Listen, if you just-”
It’s not a heated argument even, but he hisses out in annoyance, his fangs glinting in the light for a moment and then he panics.
Dream had dragged him out of his tank by the hair to kick his guts in the last time he displayed such disobedience.
He breathes out, panicking, “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
There’s something so much more complicated, living out here. He’s never had hallways upon hallways to explore, so many other people who treated him kindly, or the amount of choice allowed to him. He could be picky with his food or demand to play a game, or make a fuss about his hair being too long again. Every day was filled with so much more, rather than the long, still days in his tank listening to Dream’s orders.
Now he has Phil, Wilbur, Techno there to calm down his racing heart, assure him they’re not angry. As they promised, they never hurt him. They never hurt him.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
Tommy plays music constantly once he discovers spotify. He surfs through genre after genre and hundreds of different songs. He marvels at all the sounds that can be made through voice or instrument or computer.
Dream never liked music, maybe sometimes playing slow classical music. He didn’t know it came in so many different forms.
There’s a loud noise in his head. His anxieties and concerns mount up on one another, but the music is loud enough to drown them all out. Tommy loves music.
He’s still too nervous to sing along, but Wilbur introduces him to musicals and soon they’re singing together nonstop.
Wilbur is a passionate musician, talented at singing and playing instruments. He brought in his guitar one day for Tommy to practice on, but he didn’t like it. The strings stung at his fingers. Wilbur insisted he’d develop the calluses to play the thing, but it was frustrating- needless to say, he gave up on that endeavor quickly.
… But singing along to Wilbur's playing is still nice.
While he was Dream’s- while he was with Dream, he didn’t question how he felt. Things were as they had always been. He couldn’t deny or disagree with anything. He had to be perfect. But thinking back, every moment is tinged with stress and the feeling of holding his breath, like one wrong noise would bring him harm.
Now, though? Everything is so much lighter. He can finally breathe. He takes in a large gasp of air, and he sings as loud as he wants. And he sings off-key with a crackly voice, but he sings all the same.
“What?” He snaps at Wilbur’s fond face.
“Nothing, just- it’s just very comforting to see how far you’ve come. Feels like it wasn’t too long ago you were quiet and terrified. I’m happy for you.”
It’s jarring to even himself. He’s still attached to that quiet and obedient version of himself. Dream said that it was right, and that was the truth all his life. It’s like leaving an important part of him behind, even if it was a bad part of him.
But Tommy likes being loud. And sure, a part of him still gets self-conscious or worried about what Dream would say, but then he shouts louder just in the spirit of pissing Dream off. Take that, green bitch.
Wilbur says he is becoming a gremlin, and he likes the title better than obedient. Dream said Tommy should do his best not to be feral, but he thinks it suits him better.
≈≈≈≈≈≈
“I wanna go stargazing.” He tells Wilbur one day.
Tommy has known Dream’s office all his life, and even though exploring the facility offers him more freedom, he wants to see the sky.
“We could go out tonight. I’d have to get Phil’s approval first, but we’d just stay on the beach just outside the building. It’d be safe.”
Phil is hesitant when they ask, but allows it. The man is forever weak to Tommy’s puppy dog eyes.
They don’t set up a picnic or build sandcastles like the last time they sat on the sand. The beach is much different in the nighttime. The sand is cool against his skin and everything is quiet.
Tommy and Wilbur lay back watching the sunset. The sky is already dark blue, lilac, and fuschia, and the sun a little spec over the horizon line. The first of the stars shine in the sky.
Tommy watches in wonder as the sky fully darkens and lights up with tiny pinpricks.
“Oh look!” Wilbur points out to the water.
He shifts to a sitting position to see what the man is so excited over and his jaw drops.
Out beyond the shoreline, the water is filled with thousands of tiny specs of glowing blue light.
“Holy shit!”
Wilbur says, “It’s bioluminescent algae. It’s rare to see around these parts, but we got lucky tonight.”
“It looks like we’re floating in space!” He giggles. It’s true, with the darkness that surrounds them and the light the glow above and below.
Wilbur’s joy is infectious, becoming his joy. They spend hours watching the stars roll by and the ocean waves alight with glowing life. He never thought he could feel this happy.
Tommy feels like a fireball, a spark that’s always been kept on low that keeps igniting brighter and brighter. He wonders when enough will be enough, when he’s gone too far. But his slights keep being forgiven and accepted.
Dream taught him that even the smallest mistake had to be treated with harsh discipline. Pain taught him every lesson of his childhood through adolescence. It used to make sense, in a twisted way. He had to be punished if he messed up, what other solution could there be? But nobody hurts him anymore, and he’s starting to internalize it was wrong in the first place to lay down and accept it. He… he didn’t deserve any of what Dream did to him. Because it wasn’t right. Every lesson he learned is burning up, replaced with the new kindness he’s been getting to know.
He likes this feeling of burning. It doesn’t hurt. He feels more empowered than he has in all his life. He’s not being observed most hours of the day, and he can be left alone to do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants to go. He used to wonder how Dream felt, getting to leave to and from his office while Tommy memorized the number of tiles in the ceiling.
Now, that world of freedom is his.
Talking back doesn’t lead to him getting hurt or deprived of food, so he keeps talking back. He used to apologize, but even then he wasn’t punished.
So he talks back to people, pulls pranks, voices when something upsets him- and it’s taken in tow. Not with pain and loaded words, but acceptance, negotiation, or fondness.
He feels real, not like a- a pet. He’s not a fucking pet.
Tommy used to thrive off the little compliments Dream gave him. He was best when being good and quiet, or being obedient and pliant.
Maybe it isn’t special, but he’s spent the last sixteen years reaching out for a warm hand and expecting void. He couldn’t have fathomed he’d be surrounded by people offering warmth, unconditional to his good behavior.
Right now, sitting by Wilbur’s side, laughing feels as easy as breathing and he’s so relieved he’s come so far from the small tank his entire world used to consist of.