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“Can’t you see, Tommy?” Dream spoke, and it made Tommy feel so much smaller than he already felt. Made everything seem so much worse, like it was all closing in on him even though he was outside. Waiting on the beach, where nobody but fucking Dream showed up for his birthday. “Nobody cares! They’ve all forgotten about you.”
“That’s…” Tommy has to swallow down the lump in his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut and refuses to even look in Dream’s direction. When he opens them again he keeps them firmly fixed on the swirling nether portal. He won’t give in. He can’t. “That’s not true! T-they just… y’know, they just fucking…”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy.”
The apology sounds so genuine and for a moment Tommy wants to believe it. For a moment he wants to hold onto the kind words, to the warm tone Dream used. He’s slipping up. He can’t forget what this bastard did to him. What he did to L’Manburg.
Dream doesn’t care about him. Dream doesn’t care about anything except fucking people up and controlling them.
“They’ll come, okay?! I know they fucking will! They wouldn’t just…” Tommy grinds his teeth together. The more he says it, the faker it feels. He’s so lost in his own thoughts he doesn’t even notice Dream approaching.
When Dream places a hand on his shoulder, Tommy’s blood runs cold.
“I’m the only one who cares about you, Tommy. I didn’t want to say anything but… if only you could hear what they say about you now that you’re gone.” Dream’s voice is low, and Tommy can’t tell if he’s being mocked or not. It’s infuriating.
He wants to push Dream’s hand off, he wants to tell him to fuck off and most of all, he wants to just go home. Tommy can’t do any of these things.
Dream’s hand is the first human contact he’s had in weeks. There’s a bad feeling low in his gut. All of his instincts are screaming at him to run but when he focuses on the contact, he can almost pretend he’s not on the verge of falling apart.
Tommy doesn’t want to ask. He’s already got a good sense about what they would say about him. Weeks alone have given him a lot of time to think. Too much time.
“What-“ he cuts himself off. Mouth snapping closed just after he opened it. Fuck.
Dream’s hand moves to his neck, and the fingers wrap around. They rest on his adam’s apple and Tommy feels sick. The older man isn’t doing anything, only resting his fingers there.
His thumb is gently tracing Tommy’s jawline, and that makes him start to shake. He closes his eyes. Gripping the chair beneath him, Tommy tries to ground himself.
The contact’s starting to burn. He’s so desperate for human touch that Tommy almost wants Dream to squeeze. He doesn’t realise that he’s biting down on the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper.
“...Let go, Dream.”
His voice comes out quieter than he wants it to. Shakier, than he wants it to. He tries to muster up a louder voice, wants to fucking scream his head off at Dream, but he feels so drained. He’s so, so tired. Tommy doesn’t know how much longer he can do this for.
Surprisingly, Dream lets go without any issues. Doesn’t move away, though. Tommy can feel his presence behind him, and feels Dream’s eyes staring holes into the back of his head. The mask never did much to hide the intensity of his stare.
His stare was something you could feel in your bones.
Tommy doesn’t know how long they stayed there. Him sitting in the wooden chair, at the table he’d set for guests who never came. Dream standing behind him. He doesn’t know how long they stayed there until Dream broke the train of Tommy’s thoughts by speaking.
“Happy birthday, Tommy.”
Tommy can feel Dream’s warm breath on his ear. The man must have leaned down next to him to whisper it. It feels like an insult. It feels like Dream is mocking him and rubbing salt in the wound.
But at this point, he’s so desperate for anything resembling kindness. Anything resembling being wanted that he doesn’t yell at Dream.
Instead, Tommy doesn’t say anything in reply. Just sits there, and tears his eyes away from the nether portal. The sun had already set. Nobody was fucking coming.