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"This doesn't seem like the best thing, Dream," Phil noted, reading the script with a scrutinous eye, "This seems a bit too far, and Tommy might not-"
"He'll be fine," Dream cut him off with a dismissing tone, "He's gonna have to get used to doing roles like this if he wants to be a star,"
Phil frowns at that, "But this is some dark shit in here, mate. The stuff you added might mess with the kid. Have you talked to him about this change?"
Dream waved him off, "Nah, I didn't have the time to. You know that I'm a busy man, Phil,"
Phil isn’t sure how to feel about that, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches Dream walk away from him with his gaze fixed on the documents in his hands. He understood that as director and one of the leading roles, there were bound to be things that he just simply wouldn’t have the time to do. But this...this felt like it deserved a notice.
The show was originally supposed to be only one season and ended with Lmanburg winning its independence. There were definitely some dark moments, such as Eret’s betrayal and the massacre that followed. But it had tons of comedic moments paired with it, and it never went into depth with the dark tones. It was action and comedy, a very classic duo.
But the script that Dream had shown him…there was alot of shit in there that could potentially trigger a portion of their audience. More specifically, the exile arc was what bothered him the most. The scenes mainly consisted of Dream’s characters taking advantage of Tommy’s exile from his homeland and doing alot of shit that would definitely need warnings. There was isolation, starvation, gaslighting along with emotional, physical and social abuse. It was all together just very unnerving to read on script and he couldn’t imagine how it would be if actually acted out.
…He shouldn’t worry that much. He was sure that Tommy was more than capable of handling this. Everything would work out in the end
.
.
.
This was not fucking working out.
Tommy was sprawled on the ground with teary eyes, completely paralyzed and unhearing of the world around him, Dream stood over him, cruel and cold eyes mocking him the whole time. He held a prop sword in his hand. It wasn’t sharp, but it could definitely cause some damage if the person wielding it wanted to. The atmosphere, the tension, everything would’ve been perfect for the scene they were trying to record.
And it was.
Though that was the problem. It was.
The scene they were recorded for was perfect and over. They were finished for the day, because they finished recording all the scenes that involved the duo. The camera perfectly captured the sadistic look in Dream’s eyes, the tremors that shook through Tommy’s body, the chase scene that was terrifying to even watch . It was done. They were done. The camera wasn’t recording anymore.
So why the fuck was Tommy sat on the ground terrified at the sight of Dream.
Why was Tommy bleeding from the fucking head when it wasn’t in the fucking script.
What the fuck was Dream trying to do.
“C’mon now,” Dream teased, looking down at the blonde with mocking eyes, “You seriously can’t be crying over that?”
Tommy didn’t answer and the whole studio was enveloped in a chilling silence.
Dream rolled his eyes, “Alright, stop overreacting and get up. We’ve got work to do,”
“Wait what?” George stepped forward with a concerned glance at the blonde still sat on the ground, “You guys are done for the day, we finished all the scenes we needed to,”
“Yeah, well-” Dream shrugged, turning to look at the brunet, “We finished much earlier than I would’ve liked. So might as well get some more scenes done while we have time,”
Sapnap was the next to protest, “Maybe we shouldn’t. Nobody was given a notice for any extra scenes and Tommy looks like he need a break-”
“He’s fine,” Dream, cut him of mid-sentence, “Don't worry about him, he should learn to handle changes like this. He can’t just take breaks just cause he doesn’t feel like doing the shit he’s paid for,”
“But-”
“I said, ‘we’re recording the next scenes,’” Dream growled, glaring at his friend, “What part of that do you not understand,”
“...Only if Tommy agrees to do them. If not, we’re going home this very moment,”
“Dream smirked, looking at the teen on the ground, “You heard that Tommy? Now what do you say about that?”
He was quiet for a moment before he answered in a whisper, “...I’m okay with that,”
“Alright, then let's get started-”
“No, he’s not fucking doing the scenes,” Phil snapped, giving the dark blonde a cold glare.
“...Excuse me?” Dream questioned, a provoking tone in his voice, “What did you just say to me?”
“I said,” Phil replied, equally as provoking as he walked over to the two only to step in between the two blondes, “He’s not doing the fucking scenes. Or are you just a deaf fuck along with being an asshole?”
Dream fumed at him, “Do I need to remind you who exactly is in charge here? I am the only reason you’re even still on set, do not take me for granted-”
“Mate, I genuinely do not give a singular fuck,” Phil said, leaning down to hold Tommy’s arm gently, “We’re going home and you can do fuck all about it,”
“You can’t just do that!” Dream stuttered, face growing red in frustration, “He’s already agreed to this, you can’t just-”
He was cut off by a right hook to the face.
“...That’s for hurting my kid and having the nerve to do it in front of me and everyone here,” Phil kicked the crouched man still he tumbled away from the set, “And that’s for all the other injuries you’ve given him,”
Phil lightly tugged at Tommy hand until the other stood up and followed closely behind him as he lead them out of the studios, the rest of the room watching in stunned silence which was only interrupted by the groans that the dark done, now with a black eyes, let out.
“And by the way,” Phil shouted behind his shoulder, swinging the door open, “We fucking quit,”
The second the door slammed shut behind them, Tommy slumped into Phil’s side, burying his face in his soft forest green sweater (Phil didn’t mind, he could always wash it when they got home). His whole body shook as he sobbed, the blood from his wound seeping into the cloth the entire time.
Phil only stood there and murmured quiet reassurances to the blonde , telling him was ‘ you are so strong for being standing up to all that’, ‘everything was gonna be fine’ and ‘you’re fine now, nobody can lay a finger on you anymore,’
The sobbing eventually settled down to soft snores, the blonde passed out in his arms, trusting Phil to keep him up and not to let him fall.
A creek from the door caught Phil’s attention, as he tugged the teen closer while he glared at the door, ready to fist fight the green teletubby piece of shit again for having the actualy nerve to try and hurt his kid-
“Hello?” Subpoena called out, looking at him with concerned eyes, “You alright there?”
He felt the tension seep away from his body as he let out a silent sigh of relief, his grip loosening, “Nah mate, I’m just a little pissed but I’m alright,”
“Yeah, that..” The ravenette nervously rubbed at his arm, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that that happened. I always had my suspicions but Tom would tell me everything was fine every time I confronted him, so I… Doesn’t matter though, I should’ve-”
“Mate-” Phil gently patted him on the arm, still holding up the kid with the other, “It’s fine, I’m mad at you. I’m mad at him and everything he stood for, but I’m not mad at you,”
“...Thank you, Phil,” Sapnap handed him a blue bag that looked to be Tommy’s, “Here’s all the kid’s stuff. Take care of him and tell him to keep in contact with me, or I’ll make Gogy cry and that’s a threat,”
Phil chuckled, “Sure thing, mate,”
With that, the two parted ways and soon enough, Phil was in the car with Tommy resting peacefully in the backseat with a bandage wrapped around his head. He only smiled as he texted the twins the entire situation (No doubt that they would put in their resignation letters within the next few hours).
Tommy deserved the world. And Phil would fight anyone who argued otherwise.