Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fall was always dreary in the city. As if the weather had had enough of being happy and showing the sun in summer and spring, so fall was when it decided to let down the mask and let the world see its pain.

Tommy thought he might understand how the sky felt.

He ran through the streets, glancing back once to see how much of a lead he still had on the shopowner. The man had fallen back long ago, but still Tommy kept running. Scuffed and worn shoes that had seen far wrose than this hit the pavement, puddles splashing around him. He was shaking, breath coming in heaves as he sprinted towards the safehouse at the abandoned industrial district.

He crashed into the abandoned warehouse, slumping against a wall before peering out into the dark and damp street. No one ever came out this far from the city, but force of habit demanded he check anyway.

Watch yourself always. Keep an eye on the world and everyone around you, that way if worst comes to worst, you won't be caught by surprise. The advice echoed in his head, words engrained in his memory and in the stitches of the tattered jacket he sat drenched in. 

When he was satisfied no one was there, Tommy slumped in relief. He pulled the crushed plastic box from an inside pocket in his jacket, opening it and gingerly picking up the mildly-damaged sandwich. He looked at it for a moment, frowning. Then he decided, and let out a light sigh. Tommy put the sandwich back in the box and the box back in his jacket pocket before getting to his already aching feet, making his way across the empty warehouse and to the back wall. A hole stood in the middle of the wooden panels, weathered away by rain before being torn apart by several of the other kids. He ducked through the hole, following the messy path of abandoned cargo boxes and logs and empty warehouses that scattered the industrial site. In a way, it reminded him of a ghost town. 

Tommy ran down the path he knew well, weaving through the maze until he reached the right place. A stack of shipping containers left abandoned years ago, a precarious route made from weathered wooden boards and other bits of metal and shipping container ledges leading to the one towards the top of the pile. Faintly he could see light coming from under the door, voice speaking just above a whisper. Tommy made his way up the walkway, pulling open the shipping container's door before sliding in and closing it behind him.

"Tommy!" He turned at the delighted voice, a small smile breaking out across his face as two little boys charged at him, both no older than six.

"Hey Michael, hello Shroud." He said quietly, crouching down to hug the two boys. "I got somethin' for you two." 

The two boys looked at him in excitement, dirty hair and dirt on their noses but eyes bright. He pulled out the crushed sandwich container, offering it to them. Michael's smile got bigger, and he leaned forward and gave Tommy another squeeze.

"Thank you!" Shroud grinned, taking the container before running off to a corner of the container, Michael hot on his heels.

"You can't just give them everything, you need food too y'know." Tommy got to his feet, ignoring both the ache in his stomach and the chiding voice.

He walked towards the small lantern in the center of the container, many other people scattered around it with whatever blankets they could find draped over their shoulders. He plopped down in front of the lantern, pulling off his shoes with a wince. He didn't bother paying attention to the blisters on his feet; they didn't mean anything until they popped. Then they were just annoying and painful.

"Tommy." Sam said firmly, sitting down beside him. Tommy glared up at the man, too tired to bother in giving a proper retort or insult. "You can't just give them everything you get." 

Again Tommy ignored him, instead tugging off his jacket to wrap it around his waist instead. Sam sighed, leaning back on his hands and watching the lantern's flame dance.

"Glad to know that you guys managed to get more blankets. Was this the only lantern or..?" Tommy asked instead.

"This was the only lantern this time. Had to run, there were city-survivors around."

Tommy startled, looking over at Sam in confusion. "Wait- they never come out to these parts unless there's trouble. What's going on Sam?"

Sam glanced over at him, a frown on his face. He always frowned more then he smiled, worry lines etched into his features and bags always beneath his eyes. But he looked more worried this time than he usually did. It was unnerving. "Apparently they saw something. Overheard them saying it was a monster of some kind. Something tall, unnaturally tall, with fangs and claws 'n stuff." He sighed, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Had to get out of there before they found us, so that's all I've got."

Tommy frowned. "Load of bullshit. They haven't seen shit out here. No such thing as monsters like that. Only monsters here are the dickheads who got us in this situation." He glared at the lantern, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. 

"True." Sam agreed. "But just be careful, okay?"

Tommy grumbled something in response. Sam merely sighed. "I'll take that as a maybe." Tommy shrugged. Sam stood up, stepping back and stretching. "I'm on watch duty tonight, so you get some sleep. Tomorrow a few of the others will go out and try and find something easy from the square, you get to sleep. The scouting teams should be back tomorrow night." He leaned over, ruffling Tommy's hair before stepping back and crossing the room to the container's entrance.

Tommy sat by the light for a bit longer, not really thinking as much as he was just staring, watching the flame inside the lantern dance to its own melody, blissfully unaware of what was happening around it. Eventually he got to his feet, pulling the jacket back on properly before walking over to the corner. Shroud and Michael were already asleep, both boys curled up beside one another. Tommy laid down and stared at the wall until eventually he fell asleep, listening to the thrumming of raindrops on the roof.

It was drizzling the next day as well. It was the rain that woke Tommy. He sat outside the shipping container now, watching from the the ledge in front of it as Michael and Shroud darted around, jumping in puddles and spinning around. 

Sam had left with a few others a while ago to grab some food from a hopefully not ransacked store or the city square that was too tired to care if a few sandwiches were being stolen. He would've gone with them if Sam had woken him up in time to join them. The asshole, not bothering to take him too. 

After a while Tommy got to his feet, letting out an annoyed sigh before hopping off the top of the shipping container, landing lightly, barefoot, on the ground with his hands in his pockets. He needed to do something. Sure, he wasn’t sure what there was he could or wanted to do, but he needed to do something. Otherwise he was going to loose his mind just sitting around all day. Tommy looked up at the sky, glaring at the gray skies that were showering him in even more rain. As if the storms from the night before weren’t enough to quench the dying earth’s thirst.

Well, if he had to do something, may as well let his feet take him wherever. Tommy didn’t pay attention as he walked, simply going wherever his feet took him as his mind wandered away. He wondered what Sam and the others were doing, if they got the food they’d been looking for, if they’d seen that monster again.

Wait. That monster, the one in the shipyard. Looking for that would give him something to do. He didn’t actually believe there was a monster in the shipyard, but looking would give him an excuse as to why he wasn’t around. Maybe he could scare Sam a bit, make him believe he’d vanished that way he’d stop being such an ass. Yeah, good plan Tommy . He thought, grinning to himself as he took off across the storage sector, cutting through paths in the shipping containers that to anyone unfamiliar with them would seem like a maze.

Not to Tommy, or to anyone that had spent years living around a group of people who all stuck together and lived in the shipping containers. That was home, or as much of a home as he had since the Infection fucked everything up. He slipped out of the maze of steel boxes, looping around a corner and pulling himself over the wire fence that technically marked the shipyard as off limits. And shut down. But, listening to signs was for losers. And Tommy didn't read much anymore, so even if he wanted to listen to the sign- which he didn't- he might not even know what the faded words said.

He ran into the shipyard, crossing the nearly empty expanse of scattered shipping containers, docked ships, and rusting cranes. Thunder rumbled overhead, dark clouds gathering closer over the horizon. Tommy didn’t bother looking up at the sky, simply continuing his sprint across the shipyard.

“Sam said it was over by the warehouses at the docks… let’s get a look at this creepy fucker.” He murmured, slowing down as he veered around another shipping container. Tommy looked up at the warehouse across from the docks, one that before settling in the shipping container labyrinth, the others had considered settling in.

For a night or two, Tommy and the others lived in the warehouse at the docks. But after part of the roof caved in and someone was nearly crushed beneath a rusted support beam, they moved to the shipping containers. Tommy pursed his lips, looking the unstable warehouse up and down warily.

He turned away from it, heading down close to the old docks. Docks that had been abandoned for years; docks that used to connect the city to the rest of the country. Docks that, before the Infection spread, had been bustling with workers and ships daily. Docks that now stood empty, a graveyard for the construction that still remained. Not a ship entering the port in the last five years.

Tommy dropped down onto the lower walkway, walking along the overgrown concrete wall, lichen and algae reaching up from the still water lapping against it. One of the few plus sides of the city being cut off from the rest of the world and left to rot was that nature took back what was rightfully hers to begin with. The water was cleaner than it had ever been, even if that wasn't saying much by the murkiness of it, wildlife returning to the abandoned parks and fish slowly swarming the bay once again.

He looked out at the water as he walked parallel to the docks, not wanting to step onto the wooden boards of docks he knew full well to be likely to break with one wrong step. Past the old warehouse and into the piles of logs and wooden planks and abandoned construction. 

A rustle from behind a crane, the scraping of claws against metal that rose like a shriek.

Tommy stiffened, head snapping towards the sound as he quietly hopped back up onto the main walkway. He moved slowly, crouching as he listened for whatever animal was making that sound. Claws tapping on the concrete, a quiet sound that sounded like some kind of cross between a gurgle and a growl.

He moved closer to the source of the sound; glancing around for a weapon of some kind. A broken bottle lay on the ground a few feet away, the glass dusty and color faded from the sun, water still in it from the storm the previous night. He crept over to it, picking it up and staring at where the sound came from.

Then he smashed the top of the bottle, not even looking down at where the now shattered glass may have flown to. He simply picked up the bottle and kept moving forward. More scraping of claws, another strange gurgle-growl; this time sounding almost frustrated or upset.

Another crack of thunder, a gust of wind blowing past Tommy and towards the piles of logs. He froze, holding his breath as his scent was blown straight towards whatever was over there. Something that now knew for a fact that he was there. 

A shadow rose up from behind a crane, looming over the machine’s cabin. The monster’s head turned, glowing red and green eyes narrowed into slits, trails of inky blood streaming down from the patchwork of skin criss-crossing what Tommy could see of it; half of it a black so dark and void it seemed to swallow all light around it, half of it covered in varying shades of pale, humanlike skin. Something crimson trickled from where its mouth would be if it had one, its skin stretching and eyes scrunching in what would be a smile if the skin wasn’t tugged so taught.

Tommy stared, air refusing to enter his lungs as he watched the creature. It took a single step forward, and the rain began to fall harder, small droplets quickly turning to a raging torrent as Tommy turned on his heel and ran back towards the long-since abandoned warehouse. He dropped the bottle somewhere along the way, not registering the sound of glass shattering against the pavement as he sprinted away from that thing .

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck -” He whispered, eyes wide and legs pumping as he ran faster than he ever had, ignoring the broken glass he ran over, digging into his feet and turning the puddles forming beneath him red.

Distantly he heard a shriek from the creature, but he didn’t look back. He slammed against the warehouse door, yanking on the rusted sliding door frantically, breaths coming in pants as he fought against the hinges rusted shut. He looked back, not spotting the creature as he yanked harder and harder, hearing the hinges squeal in protest. The handle snapped off, rusted metal coating his hands as he held the broken handle.

“ FUCK .” He cried, whipping around and sprinting to the side of the building, staring around for something to reach the high windows. 

He spotted the mound of crates, wood splintering and soaked from past storms. He didn’t bother weighing the risks of climbing a mound of corroded wood, concluding that he’d rather die hiding in a mound of broken wood and rain than be caught and torn apart by whaterver the fuck that thing was. 

Tommy ran towards the boxes, getting a running start as he leapt atop one of them, barely taking a moment to steady himself before leaping up the mound, afraid of the crates breaking beneath him but more afraid of the monster chasing him. He was almost to the top of the pile before the wood snapped beneath him; leg falling through the splintered wood. He let out a cry of pain, blinking back tears as wood and splinters dug into his leg from all sides. He hauled himself back up, slamming his palms against the cracked glass of the warehouse window desperately. Tommy glanced back behind him, fear and adrenaline coursing through him as he turned back to the window and drew a fist back and punched it; glass shattering against his knuckles. He didn’t waste any time, crawling through the window and hoping to not hit the ground below.

He tumbled down, arms covering his head in case he dropped to the ground. After only a moment or so of falling he hit the metal walkway, the rusted iron screaming in his ears as he landed with a thud. Tommy scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he ran down the walkway and towards the stairs that led to the concrete floor of the warehouse.

Lightning flashed through a hole in the ceiling, a mound of fallen beams signifying where someone had nearly been crushed beneath them. Slits and holes in the steel walls let in some of the rain, the warehouse lighting up with every crash of lightning and shaking slightly with every boom of thunder. Tommy ran across the warehouse, scrambling into a far corner cloaked in shadows.

He sat there for a moment, heart thrumming in his chest louder than the rain pelting the roof far above. His hands shook, fingernails digging into his legs as he pulled his knees to his chest. It was only then that he looked down, processing the wood and splinters in his leg and the stinging of bits of glass in his heels. 

Gingerly, Tommy pulled the splinters out, biting the inside of his cheek each time the splinter snagged on his skin coming out, making him reach back into the open wounds to pluck out the small fragments of wood. Blood came down his leg in rivulets, dripping off his ankle and onto the cold floor. Then he moved on to his feet, pulling out the glass shards carefully and as steadily as he could with hands that refused to stop shaking. He pulled off his rain jacket, looking around the warehouse for something sharp.

A rusted piece of metal not too far away caught his eye. He limped towards it, wincing and fighting back a whimper of pain as the wounds in his feet stretched and stung with every step. He picked up the metal, rolling it between his fingers before returning to his corner and his jacket sitting in a pile. He cut one sleeve in half, cutting that in half too before laying the pieces out on the ground. Then he did the same to the other sleeve before pausing. He hesitated, studying the four pieces for the best way to do this. 

Slowly, he picked up the first piece and wrapped it around his foot, tying it tight and tucking the loose end into the fabric. Then he wrapped the second piece around the same foot, wincing at the pressure but tying it securely. He did the same to the other foot before cutting the body of the jacket in half, tying that around his calf instead. 

Then he leaned back, sweat and rain soaked hair sticking to his forehead as he looked up at the tin roof above. The rain still roared in his ears; lightning strikes lighting up the warehouse. “Guess this is home for tonight.” He muttered, raising a hand to wipe his face. His bones ached with a heaviness he hadn’t felt in a little while; the kind of dead exhaustion from an adrenaline crash.

Better make the most of what I have here. In the morning I’ll go back and get my leg properly checked out. Puffy’ll have my ass if I come back during the rain. He laughed bitterly to himself, imagining the bushy-haired woman glowering at him for worrying her while also steadily yet gently cleaning and rewrapping his leg and feet.

Slowly, Tommy drifted off to sleep with the thought of a lantern in front of him to warm his bones; the cold whipping air kept away by the creaking warehouse around him.

At first, Tommy wasn’t sure why he awoke.

It was far from morning; the storm still bellowing outside the warehouse and the darkness still wrapping around him. He blinked awake groggily, wiping at his eyes as he adjusted slightly the position he was leaning against the wall in. That was probably gonna fuck up his neck later.

He looked around the warehouse for any sign as to what woke him, searching for a cat or a mouse or even a stray dog.

A pair of red and green eyes stared back at him.

Tommy froze, air not daring to enter his lungs as he stared wide-eyed at the creature. It was crouched across the warehouse from him, the fleshy half of it cast in shadow while the darker half blended in as if it wasn’t there at all. Its eyes glowed as it stared at him, unblinking and pupils thin slits.

Neither he or the monster moved. 

Slowly, Tommy reached for the gnarled metal at his side, eyes never leaving the monster. Its eyes followed his hand, watching but not moving as he wrapped a shaking hand around it, yanking it back towards his body and stiffening. Still, the creature did not move. Its eyes were back on his, cold and empty.

The two stared at each other, Tommy out of fear and wariness. Then the creature moved, shuffling one clawed foot forward across the concrete, slouching down to around half its regular height. As soon as it moved Tommy threw the metal as hard as he could, aimed directly at the monster’s head. He missed, the improvised weapon going wide. The monster turned its head slowly, watching the metal as it hit the wall with a headache-inducing clang of metal on metal.

Tommy blinked, frowning slightly. Well that did nothing . He looked from the discarded metal to the monster then back at the metal. The monster stared back. Then he let out a sigh, letting the tension leave his shoulders as he slumped back against the wall.

“Well, if you’re gonna kill me then fuckin’ get it over with already.” He said, exhaustion dripping from every word. He was tired. He was out of energy and adrenaline, and frankly he didn’t want to move.

Besides, his life was shitty anyway, so why would he fight a monster that was gonna put an end to it for him. Sure, it might be painful, but he highly doubted it was worse than the Infection. He’d rather be torn limb from limb than go through that. He’d seen enough of what it did from outside a closed door, fingers digging into his scalp-

He waved a hand at the monster, gesturing vaguely at it before letting his hand fall to his side once more. Tommy waited for it to move closer, for it to lunge at him and kill him, or for it to creep closer and slice his throat, or for it to slink through the shadows and slowly squeeze the air from his lungs- he waited for it to do anything .

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” He groaned, rubbing his eyes and glaring at the monster. “Are you gonna kill me and feast on my flesh or what? ‘Cause I’m tired as fuck and don’t have the time or energy for this shit. If you’re gonna kill me than just fuckin’ do it.” 

Still the monster didn’t move.

Tommy fell asleep with the creature not having moved an inch closer to him, its eyes still on him.

When he awoke again, it was day out. Sometime during the night the storm broke, leaving the warehouse rafters to drip slow droplets to the ground below instead of the thundering torrents. Tommy opened his eyes, looking up at the sunlight making its way through the gaps in the ceiling and walls. 

He looked down, slowly stretching out his legs. His movements were stiff, limbs locked where they’d been drawn close to his chest the whole night. He winced as his injured leg moved, the soaked jacket around it making his attempts to flex his leg more painful than they would be otherwise. 

Tommy sighed, resorting to simply untying the makeshift bandage to examine the wound. It wasn’t as bad now that the bleeding had stopped; red staining his leg but not quite spilling out of it. Several gashes cut deep from the splintered wood, more smaller cuts scattered around his calf that were shallower. For the most part, the wound seemed fine now. Fine enough that he could move at least.

Slowly he got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head and testing his movement on injured feet. They throbbed, but it wasn’t much worse than the usual ache now. He’d be all good to head back to the others now that the rain had stopped.

Tommy turned, looking around the warehouse for an easy way out-

His breath caught in his throat for a moment, eyes locked on the sleeping creature curled up just a few meters away. Its head was down, the human skin on its body sagging from water damage and the crude stitches coming loose. Long, boney arms snaked around itself, a tail covered in mismatched skin stretched taut laying at its side. In the light Tommy could see more of it. Could see the spine and ribs of the creature on the half not covered in a void darkness. Ribs that seemed to jut out too far and curl in too tight; a second pair growing out from where the first connected with the spine, arched around the first. Thin yet sharp spikes stretching out from the vertebrates and trailing all down its back and tail. Clawed hands at the end of arms far too long, several jagged patches of crudely stitched skin barely covering the tips of the claws, different shades of human flesh sewn together like a patchwork quilt.

Its eyes opened, and it stared at Tommy. And he stared back. Slowly, he slid one foot back. Sure, the thing hadn’t killed him before, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t kill him now. And now, he could run. He took a full step back, then another; eyes locked on the monster in front of him. It didn’t move, watching him but doing nothing more.

Tommy turned and took off at a run across the warehouse, a cry of pain escaping his lips as pebble and bits of concrete dug into the makeshift bandages on his feet. He stumbled, not even halfway across the warehouse and still so far away from the walkway to climb back through the window. His foot twisted sideways, and he crashed to the ground.

Tommy didn’t move, forehead pressed to the ground as he ground his teeth in impatience and agitation. This was the part of the horror movie where he got stabbed. Where he was dragged away by the monster and slaughtered with his organs hung up in the trees as a message. Or maybe his skin would join the patchwork on the monster’s body. Either way, now that he’d tripped, he was done for. So may as well make the monster’s job easier.

Again, he waited. And again, the monster against the wall didn’t move. So he stood up, getting to his feet and turning to glare at the monster before taking off towards the stairwell up the catwalk. He watched the monster the entire way, and it watched him. His feet stung; small dots of blood leaking through the sleeves wrapped around them. He could see blood stains on the walkway beneath him, crimson staining the metal from his frantic dash the night before. 

He looked at the monster a final time before turning and climbing back out the warehouse window, this time more careful to not fall through any more crates. He climbed down and stumbled back through the shipyard, not turning back as he ran through puddles and back onto streets mildly flooded. 

He ran back to the shipping containers, weaving between stacks of oranges and reds and blues before jumping the fence and running back towards the stack where the others were. Distantly he could hear Michael and Shroud, the two’s yelps and laughter echoing through the emptiness. The clouds overheard were still a stormy gray, promising even more rain later on.

Michael spotted him first, the joy on his face shifting to surprise and then worry as he spotted Tommy’s limp. “Tommy!” He yelled, running forward and crashing into Tommy.

Tommy bit back a hiss of pain as he took a step back, shakily wrapping his arms around the kid. “Hey Mikey, you havin’ fun?” He asked, his voice quieter and more broken than intended. 

Shroud ran over as Michael drew back, the younger boy looking up at Tommy hesitantly. Someone had redone his braids, Tommy noticed. He crouched down in front of Shroud, cupping the child’s cheek in his hand. He smiled. “You and Michael taking care of everyone?”

He nodded, eyebrows still furrowed in worry. “You were gone all day and didn’t come back last night.” 

“I’m alright, see? All in one piece. Just a little banged up.” He motioned towards his leg and feet before running a hand through Shroud’s hair, directing the worried boy’s attention away from his injuries. “I gotta go see Puffy so you and Michael go back to playing, okay?” He spoke with a quiet hum, smiling as Shroud nodded and gave him a hug before turning back to Michael and running off.

Tommy got to his feet, wincing slightly as he made his way up to the shipping container the others resided in, the door cracked open slightly. He shuffled in, sliding the door most of the way shut behind him before sitting down with a thud against the wall. The room was mostly empty, something unusual even for the small total size of the group. People were always there; someone always had to be to keep an eye on Michael and Shroud. 

Tommy glanced around, unsettled by the near total emptiness. After a moment he stood up again and stepped back out of the container, sitting on the edge and looking down at the two children as they played. “Hey Mikey, Shroud? Have either of you seen the others?” He called down, and the two boys paused to look up at him.

Michael cupped his mouth in his hands as he yelled back up. “They left a while ago! Someone told Sam that they found something so they all went to check it out! Should be back soon though.”

Tommy’s frown deepened. There was never a reason for practically all of them to leave, especially when it meant leaving the youngest two behind. Puffy would never have allowed it. But nearly everyone had left Michael and Shroud behind,

Which meant something was seriously wrong.

“Quick! Someone clear the way, we got a severely injured!” Tommy turned, searching for the source of Sam’s voice. He saw no one, hopping down off the shipping container and jogging around the corner only to skid to a halt.

A group of people- most of the camp minus those who must’ve been sent out to scavenge and steal what they could from the city- were huddled around someone in the middle; a pale and worried looking Sam. His mask was pulled down to his chin, eyes wide in fear and worry as he hauled someone over his shoulder. The other survivors led the way, helping carry the injured man where they could but mostly standing by uncertainly.

“Someone start up the fire again, Puffy we need you to pull out the bandages and set up the treatment station!” Sam’s voice was the only steady thing amongst the swarm of fear, members of the cluster sprinting back to the camp with Puffy among them. 

Tommy ran towards the group, pushing through the people standing around uselessly. “Sam! Sam what happened?” He said loudly, grabbing Sam’s attention as he looped around to the injured man’s other side; hauling one arm over his shoulder to help carry him.

Sam grunted, looking between Tommy and the survivors running to restart the camp. “Tommy we need to move. This guy needs urgent care, right away. I don’t know who he is but- dammit - we don’t know what happened.” His voice wavered slightly now that he wasn’t shouting orders, a kind of waver that sent a chill down Tommy’s spine.

“Sam, what happened? How did this guy get like this? He’s- he’s covered in blood. This couldn’t have been a beating or an animal attack.” Tommy readjusted the weight on his shoulder, feet shuffling as fast as they could to the camp with Sam on the other side.

“It was the creature spotted the other day. It had to have been. Nothing else could do this.” He answered.

If there hadn’t been such an urgency to get back to camp, Tommy would’ve froze. His mind slowed, eyes widening as he thought back to the monster with blood dripping from its face; skin melting away due to rain. That monster had killed someone.

“We might still be able to save him, right?” Tommy insisted, looking back to Sam urgently. Lanterns were already lit around the shipping containter, Michael and Shroud ushered inside by two of the older women of the group. Tommy and Sam didn’t head to the main one, instead carrying the man on their shoulders past it and to another, slightly smaller container just a few meters away. A lantern was on inside it already; Puffy laying out and dividing up bandages, a needle and thread, towels, some kind of cleaning alcohol, and various other materials.

The two gently lowered the man to the ground, laying him on a towel with another one balled up beneath his head as a pillow. Tommy stood, backing away slightly to sit down in the corner as Puffy got to work, talking to herself quietly and occasionally ordering Sam to grab her something. 

Tommy watched, unsure of what to do. Slowly, with every bloody towel and bucket of rain water washed over the man’s face, slowly the extent of his injuries came into view. Tommy inhaled sharply, horrified at the damage but unable to look away. Puffy paled slightly. Sam just stared in shock.

There was no skin on the man’s face; only dirt, raw flesh, and clear marks of decay. His eyes were open, unseeing brown pupils staring up above him, one eyeball torn and partially missing. His nose was snapped, as if something had yanked at the skin so hard that the cartilage beneath it had come off as well. Chunks of flesh were missing from his cheeks, shades of yellow and brown splotches covering the exposed flesh. A few maggots that Puffy hadn’t yet washed away still clung to the man’s lips, sliding across the shredded tissue and into his mouth. His shirt and pants were torn, claw marks digging deep into his chest and stomach.

Tommy finally looked away, stomach rolling with disgust and unease. He looked instead at Sam sat against the wall of the shipping container. There was a frown on his face, concern edged deep in his features as he stared down at hands stained with the dead man’s blood.

“What happened to him?” Tommy asked, voice almost rasping. Sam jerked out of his stupor, blinking and looking between the man and Tommy.

Puffy answered for him. “Not quite sure. We think it’s very likely it was the monster spotted before, but we don’t know how this happened or why.” She sat back down, something sad but unsurprised in her eyes. “He’s already gone. The most I can do is clean him up a bit more.” She looked over at Sam. “We need to do something. Members of other survival groups have gone missing thanks to that monster too. All of them having skin torn off parts of their bodies and sustaining very similar injuries.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, the realization finally setting in of where exactly the creature he’d seen had gotten its skin from. He sprang to his feet, rushing out the entrance of the shipping container before falling to his knees and retching into the grass. Bile and the little bits he’d eaten over a day ago splayed across the dead grass, the image of that thing tearing the skin off of people and stitching it onto itself vivid in his mind.

He didn’t bother wiping his mouth, simply sitting back on his bum and wrapping his arms around himself, staring out at nothing. His limbs were shaking without his permission, the imagined sounds of screams of pain and the tearing of skin off of flesh and the sight of a needle stitching back and forth through skin and darkness, blooding dribbling down as it went in and out and in and out and in and-

“Tommy? Tommy, hey, look at me.” Puffy’s voice was firm, her hands warm as they cupped his face. Tommy blinked, stomach threatening to send more bile into the grass. He looked at her, his breathing uneven and panicked. “Tommy, hey, focus on me. Breathe with me, okay?” She stared him in the eye, the warmth of her hands and the intensity of her gaze keeping Tommy from spiraling further.

Slowly they breathed, in and out until his lungs were functioning properly and his hands stopped shaking. He pushed and shoved the sounds and images in his head away, packing them tight in a box to be never mentioned again. 

When he was stable Puffy let go of his face, raising a towel to wipe the vomit crusted on his chin. She brushed the hair away from his face, not mentioning the sweat gluing it there. “I think it’s been a long day, how about you get to bed, okay? Those on supply runs should be back shortly. I’ll make sure there’s some left for you.” Her voice was gentler now, warm and comforting but just as grounding as she’d been when helping him breathe again. 

He nodded, letting out a croak of a “yeah”, before letting her help him to his feet and walk him back to the main shipping container. He laid down in his normal spot, exhaustion weighing on his every movement as his mind spun and sorted the information he’d learned. And by the time his head had cleared enough for the exhaustion to fully set in, he was already asleep.

It was a conversation that woke Tommy up.

The moon had already risen; signaling that his entire day had been spent sleeping. His stomach’s painful growl was enough to remind him of that. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, almost rolling over on his ragged blanket before processing the conversation across the room.

Two voices- no, maybe three or four- were talking. Sam and Puffy were two of them.

“... other survivor groups have reported attacks as well. The exact same injuries as the one we found today. That man wasn’t even ours.” Sam’s voice.

“He’s from a group in the city, Purpled said the guy’d gone missing a few days ago. They sent out a small search party and everything.” Hannah, one of the runners. She was hardly at the camp, always out gathering supplies and stealing and bartering what she could. In the few times Tommy had spoken to her though, she’d been interesting enough. Confident but not usually obnoxiously so, strong-willed in a way that surely must’ve helped have kept her alive for so long.

“The guy was dead long before we found him. Must’ve died last night at least, although the rate of decay seems too accelerated.” Puffy said. Tommy could hear the frown in her voice. “The injuries and state of the rest of the body indicate he died last night, but decay and maggots should not have set in that quickly, even for that size and severity of a wound.”

“Something isn’t right here. Monsters believed to have some kind of accelerated decay or Infection in their claws have been sighted before, yes, but never this close. Always in other cities, never this one. What changed?” Sam wondered aloud.

Tommy’s stomach sunk. That was his sure confirmation of what he’d already suspected. That monster from the warehouse, that had sat just a few meters away but never once dared closer, had gotten its skin from people like the one lying dead in the camp. It was a murderer, its claws and skin covered in blood that wasn’t its own. Tommy’s hands balled into fists. He may have been almost one of them. If he’d found the monster a day or so earlier it might be him lying dead in the camp; skin torn from his face and parts of his flesh consumed by that thing.

“Maybe a lack of prey in other areas.” The fourth voice spoke. 

Tommy scowled to himself. Dream. He was one of the runners too, one of if not the best the camp had. He’d wandered in a few years back and hadn’t really left since; only ever to hunt outside the borders of the city. He was one of the few who knew a way out of the city to begin with- an exit that he never shared but exploited for the camp’s benefit. He’d also been the one that had found Tommy wandering the city a few years ago. The one who had wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and promised him a safe place he’d never leave. 

Tommy couldn’t stand him. 

“I mean if the other ones like it have taken out all the people in camps outside the city, it only makes sense that they’d travel into it.” Dream offered.

“Yeah but unless it knows your secret tunnel into this shithole, there’s no way it could’ve gotten in. Unless it can fly or something.” Hannah said bitterly.

“The tunnel is blocked off and hidden. It always is when I’m not using it to get in and out. That’s how its remained a secret for so long.” Dream replied.

Tommy could bet that Hannah wasn’t convinced. She’d always been mildly suspicious of Dream, not trusting him like so many of the others did. It was one of the things her and Tommy agreed on. A mutual distaste for the man that no one in the camp knew anything about.

“For now we need to keep a lookout, make sure that if we see that thing we take it out. It’s a threat not only to us, but to any other survivors out there.” Sam said with a sense of finality that shut down Dream and Hannah’s budding argument.

Dream scoffed. “Whether we keep an eye out for it or not, it’s still going to eventually come for us. It’ll find one of our scouts and it’ll follow them back here and then this whole place will be a bloodbath. And the years we’ve spent here surviving and doing what we could will have been for nothing.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” Puffy spoke up. “If we need to put the camp on lockdown and pair up the scouts and runners then we will. But we aren’t going to let this monster take down everything we’ve worked for.”

Tommy closed his eyes again, something bitter and uneasy settling in his stomach. He heard the sound of four pairs of footsteps dispersing, two of them heading out of the shipping container with the low creaking of the metal door, and two of them settling down on makeshift cots against the far wall.

Sam had called for a camp lockdown early the next morning. He’d gathered everyone in the center of the camp, not needing to stand above the crowd for his voice to be heard. The runners and scouts were the only onces not there to hear it; even Micheal and Shroud were woken up to ensure they heard the order as well.

“No one is to leave the camp under any circumstances. Due to severe attacks happening nearby, we’ve agreed that it would be safest for everyone to stay here for the time being.” Sam had looked directly at Tommy, almost daring him to question his order.

Sam was a fool and a bitch if he thought that Tommy would listen to the orders he gave the others. Which was exactly why a little while later Tommy had snuck out again, walking around the shipyard to where he’d last seen the monster. Heading right towards the creature wearing bits of skin stolen from the man currently being wrapped in spare blankets and tossed into the bay. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was once he found the creature. He could fight it, try to kill it or shove it into the bay. But the thought of the stolen skin on it melting off and remaining in the murky water as it clambered out onto the dock and took off after him was enough to discourage the idea. 

Maybe he could come back to the warehouse later. He had plenty of time to think of a better idea anyway.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking a rock as he strolled down the cracked asphalt. Without a plan there was no point trying to find the damn thing. As much as he was tired of his life now, if he had a choice in whether or not he died, he’d choose to live for at least a little while longer. Which wouldn’t happen if he went running towards that monster without a plan.

He turned away from the docks, walking towards the chainlink fence separating the shipyard and docks from the city itself. Tommy hadn’t been to the city in a few days, not since he stole food from a gas station and gave it to Michael and Shroud. Back before he saw that creature and the man from another survivor group was found dead by the docks.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets, climbing the fence and dropping down on the other side. The city was deserted as always; weeds growing out of the cracks in the roads and the grass far longer than it had ever been before the city was deserted. Patches of wildflowers sprouted out of the grassy medians, a few cars laying scattered and broken down along the road. They’d been ransacked years ago, not even the seats or wiring left inside them. 

Tall apartment complexes and office buildings loomed into the sky, casting shadows down on the streets and giving warmth to the patches of road not obscured by them. Tommy walked down the road, looking up and around the city. It was prettier during the day when it wasn’t raining. At night and when it was raining especially, it was harder to see and enjoy any of it. The shadows weren’t as visible now.

He looped around a corner, taking one hand out of his pocket to swing around a lamppost as he passed it. He looked up and around, scanning his surroundings for any sign of anything. Hannah mentioned Purpled was in the city, right? Bothering him would give Tommy something to do. And hell, maybe Purpled could help him come up with a plan for how to kill that monster.

Tommy walked around the southern districts of the city, hands in his pockets except to swing around poles and balance himself as he hopped onto railings and park benches. The city was empty, just like it always was. Just like it had been for years. His heart clenched, a faint laugh drifting back into his memory with a flash of blond hair. It’d been a few years since the first outbreak. 

It’d been a few years since he was the only one of his family left. 

But he’d pushed down the survivor’s guilt ages ago. Before he’d joined up with the survivor group he was currently with, he’d tried drinking away the guilt with the bottles he could find from abandoned liquor stores. But that hadn’t done anything. It’d just left his insides burning and feeling rotten, his throat clogged with the taste of acid and his head aching with pain and regret that couldn’t be washed away. He’d forced himself to stop drinking after that. Hadn’t looked in the direction of a liquor store in ages.

Tommy squinted up at one of the rooftops, checking for any sign of a scout from another survivor group. Then he sighed and turned away from the main road and walked into the office building, tugging open the door and letting it shut behind him. The lobby of the office building was empty, the glass in most of the windows shattered and sprinkled over the floor. Tommy walked over the shards, humming to himself and grateful that he didn’t forget his shoes this time. He didn’t need another set of tears in his feet.

The office building he stood in was always empty. It was one of the first ones to be abandoned when the Infection spread, and it was one of the farthest from the small part of the city still inhabited by shopkeepers. An area of the city that if Tommy didn’t want to be chased out by a group of shop owners wielding bats, he wasn’t going to be going back to for a few days. 

He made his way to the back of the first floor, climbing up the staircase two at a time and pausing at each floor to peer down the hallways. Each floor, just as he expected, was empty. Tommy frowned. If he was a monster trying to find somewhere to hide, than he’d probably hide in an abandoned office building. 

He paused on the fifth floor, walking casually down the hallway with his hands in his pockets. He peeked into each room, looking around for a giant shadow-and-human-skin clad monster. Each room, just like the floors below it, was empty. He hesitated at the end of the hallway, staring at the door on his left. A door that was closed, when every single other time in the years that he’d walked through the building, it had been open. 

Tommy kicked the door open, looking around the silent and empty room. “Y’know if you’re going to hide in here, then at least don’t make it suspicious by having the door closed. That defeats the point of stealth.” He said loudly, eyes skimming over every wall and corner of the abandoned break room. A vending machine long since ransacked stood at one wall, the blinds ripped and broken but still casting the room in some level of shadow.

A pair of eyes stared back at him.

Tommy stumbled backward in surprise, opening his mouth before closing it. The eyes didn’t move from the corner, the pupils merely dilating slightly in recognition. Red and green eyes, almost catlike. Tommy took a step back, than another. Back into the hallway. He stared at the creature. He hadn’t actually expected to find it in the office building.

“Well, I guess you found a good hiding spot after all.” He said quietly, his voice rasping. The monster tilted its head slightly, eyes curious. Tommy frowned at it, and took a step forward. The monster didn’t move. He took another step forward, back into the doorway. It was still watching him intently, but it didn’t move. “What, are you not going to kill me or something?” He demanded, voice a little louder this time.

It didn’t move. 

He hesitated, weighing his chances of death against his curiosity. Dying to this thing maybe wouldn’t be too bad anyways; as long as he got his death over with quick. He’d see his family again, at least. Besides, with the way it stared at him, something told him it wouldn’t be making a move to gut him and use his skin on its DIY patchwork project. It’d had a few opportunities before and hadn’t killed him, so maybe his chances of life were higher than he thought. He took a few steps closer, crossing the threshold into the room. The monster stepped forward, the thin shafts of light through the broken blinds hitting its face.

It was slouching in order to not be hitting the ceiling. It held its arms in font of itself, close to its chest. The thin, boney tail was wrapped lightly around its left ankle; and the patchwork of skin on half of its body appeared to be sagging in some places. The stitches were coming loose, bits of skin pulling away from the rest and small gaps inbetween pieces. It still had no mouth, but there wasn’t blood anymore on the space where a mouth would reside.

“You’re a creepy fucker, y’know that?” Tommy murmured, looking the thing up and down with a hint of disgust. It make a quiet croaking sound in response. 

It seemed to be in a better mood than the night he’d last seen it, as if it had settled down now that it wasn’t being soaked to the bone in rain. Tommy’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. That’s why you came into the warehouse, isn’t it? You don’t like the rain either.” 

It croaked again, tail thumping the floor once. Tommy frowned at it. “Does your skin melt when you get wet?” Its tail thumped again. “That’s fuckin’ disgusting. Eww. Get better skin or just get better at not getting wet.”

Tommy looked around the room, weighing his chances of life and death one more time. Then he sighed. And he sat down cross legged on the floor. This monster couldn’t be the one that Sam and the others were talking about keeping people away from. This monster was more like a cat than a terrifying creature.

Well… as long as Tommy didn’t pay attention to the various skintones all stitched together. He looked around, searching the room for something to improvise with. He turned back to the monster. “I’ll be right back, you just stay here.” It gave a quiet croak in response.

And Tommy turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Now admittedly, dragging a giant dirty sheet halfway across a city in broad daylight to drap over a giant patchwork-shadowy monster that killed people and possibly ate them was not the smartest idea Tommy had ever had. There had been stupider ideas, yes, but this was probably one of the stupidest ones. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was hauling the king-sized bed sheet back up the stairs in the office building where he’d left the monster. Admittedly, he hadn’t been thinking much when he did it. Sure, his self-preservation probably should’ve kicked in at some point. But to assume that Tommy had a strong enough sense of self-preservation that it was useful was to assume that he often engaged with the logical part of his brain. Something that he did not. Something that he especially did not do today.

Tommy readjusted his grip on the sheet, nearly tripping over a trailing end of it as he jogged up the third flight of stairs. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t trying to push the creature out the window, or let one of the other survivor groups know where it was so they could kill it, or even just simply run away as if he contained a shred of common sense. All he knew was that something about the monster seemed gentle. That besides the grotesque body and the jagged claws and crude stitches, there were eyes that seemed a bit too kind to simply be a cold-hearted murderer.

“If Tech knew what I was doing he’d drag me away by the scalp.” Tommy muttered, turning and starting up the fourth flight of stairs.

The monster was still slouched in the corner when Tommy came back into the room. Its eyes were closed, but the moment Tommy entered the room it opened them again. He looked at it, trying to find the best way to throw the sheet over the creature’s head.

“Crouch down for me, yeah? And continue to not kill me, thanks.” Tommy said over his shoulder as he walked over to one of the tables, looking around for a pair of scissors. He spotted one, grabbing it and setting it down in front of the monster. 

It crouched down in front of him, dropping to all fours and watching him curiously. It let out another quiet croak as Tommy walked up to it, sheet in hand once more. He looked around again, grabbing a barely still intact chair and dragging it over. Carefully, he stood up on it, and held out the sheet. He tossed it over the creature’s head, tugging it slightly and smoothing it down to position it right. Tommy hopped off the chair, picking up the scissors again and climbing the chair once more. Slowly, he pinched the fabric and cut a hole over where the monster’s eye looked to be. Then he hopped off the chair, dragging it over to the other side, and cut another hole.

He stood back, looking up at the monster. “You can stand up now.” It stood up as much as it could, the sheet rippling but not falling off as a pair of red and green eyes poked out through the eye holes.

Tommy clapped his hands. “There we go! Now you aren’t such a creepy fucker! You look like a they/them type of monster. Are you a they/them-er?” In any rational scenario, Tommy would not be asking a monster its pronouns, but if the creature hadn’t already killed him for nearly poking it in the eyes with scissors, than it probably wasn’t going to ever kill him. Unless it got hungry.

He would cross that bridge when and if he got there.

The monster let out a noise different from the croak from before. A noise almost like a purr or a chirp, something presumably happy based on the light swishing of their tail.

He nodded. “Alright then. Pronouns aside, you need a name.” Tommy turned away from them, looking around the room once more for an idea.

A rainbow sticker on the side of the break room refrigerator caught Tommy’s eye. He stared at it, frowning and testing different variations of it. “Rounbo? Rainbah? Rhanbo? Ranboo?” He looked back at the monster, gauging their reaction. “Ranboo? How about that?”

The monster blinked once, then let out the same purr-like noise. Their tail thumped against the floor again. Tommy grinned at Ranboo, satisfied with himself. “All right then, Ranboo.” He opened his mouth to say something more, but then there were footsteps down the hallway.

Ranboo heard the noise the same moment Tommy did; their head snapping up and towards the door before they turned around and pushed up the blinds with a claw, crawling out the window and out of sight. Tommy glanced between the doorway and where Ranboo disappeared, unsure of which to confront.

A teenager around the same age as Tommy appeared in the doorway, a purple hood over his sandy blond hair. He blinked, frowning at Tommy as he stood in the middle of the room. “Tommy what the hell are you doing here?” He demanded.

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “What, am I not allowed to wander the city anymore, Purpled?” He turned to face the other boy, shoving his hands in his pockets once more.

Purpled frowned at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “I wish I could say I was surprised that you ignored Sam’s order to not leave the camp.”

Tommy merely grinned. “Gonna take more than Sam simply telling me to do something for me to listen. Anyways, what’re you doing out here big man?”

Tommy slouched as he walked back into camp, still muttering under his breath how it was stupid that he got walked back to make sure he didn’t simply wander somewhere else. Purpled hadn’t been the one to walk him back; no he’d radioed Dream and gotten him to walk Tommy back to camp. A fact that Dream was probably almost as irritated about as Tommy was.

“Still don’t understand why you felt the need to go running off into the city when there’s a creature out there killing people and skinning them.” Dream said with a frustrated sigh.

“I still don’t understand why you’re in other people’s businesses, bitch .” Tommy spat, quickening his pace to walk back to the small area in the center of camp where Michael and Shroud probably were playing.

Dream let him go with a sigh, muttering something about reporting to Sam before veering off to one of the other shipping containers. 

Tommy sat down in front of the small fire, watching as Michael and Shroud raced around it. A few of the others chuckled, gently chiding the boys to watch their step. Others ignored them entirely, glaring around the camp distrustfully as they dug into their hot dogs. Guess they raided a few more gas stations and shops . 

Shroud spotted Tommy first, pausing in his game to run back over to him, a smile on his face as he threw himself into Tommy. He let out a grunt, wrapping his arms around the kid and fighting to not fall onto his back.

“Hey Shroud… what’s this about?” He said gently, all anger towards Dream having melted away the moment the child crashed into him. 

Shroud pulled away slightly, glaring at him. “You left the camp when it’s dangerous. Idiot.” He scowled.

Michael came up behind him, crossing his arms as he glared at Tommy. “It was dangerous and Sam said not to but you did it anyway! Stupidhead.” 

Tommy frowned. “Well that’s not a very nice thing to call someone.” He looked between the two, sighing after a moment. “Fine. I’m sorry for leaving when it wasn’t safe.” His false sincerity must’ve been enough, because both Michael and Shroud’s expressions brightened. Michael darted forward and gave him a hug as well before both boys scampered off to play some more.

Tommy sighed. He got to his feet, making his way towards the container he was fairly certain he’d find Sam in. It was one just off to the side of the medbay and sleeping room, pushed slightly back from the others but still the most centered in the camp. He unlatched the door, slipping into the container and closing it behind him.

“Glad you made it back in one piece.” Sam’s voice was annoyed, firm and almost irritated but not quite there yet. Tommy sighed again, already prepared for the earful he was about to get.

“Yeah, I am too. It’s almost as if I survived fine before I came here so I know how to survive a few hours wandering around. Y’know, like I do on a near daily basis anyway.” He turned to face Sam with a glare, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Sam was standing in the center of the room, Puffy to one side and Dream on the other. Dream’s eyes narrowed slightly at him, and Puffy just looked tired. Tommy looked between them as Sam let out an exhale.

“Tommy, that announcement was made to keep people safe. Including you. Going against it does nothing but put yourself and others in danger. What if that thing found and killed you? What if it followed you back?” Sam said steadily with a patience that was already beginning to thin.

“Oh like hell am I that fuckin’ stupid!” Tommy retorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to die to some creepy fucker and I’m not stupid enough to not know when I’m being followed, Sam!”

“Tommy the fact is that you could’ve. And then everyone here would be in danger. Because of a stupid mistake you made.” Dream cut in, arms crossed over his chest.

Ranboo’s eyes were curious, pupils large like an excited kitten. Not narrowed and dangerous like they were when Tommy first saw them behind the crane. Ranboo was patient as Tommy cut holes in the sheet, was excited when they were given a name.

Tommy clenched his fists. “Well that didn’t happen now did it Dream?” He spat. He looked between Dream and the other two adults, anger in his voice and thrumming in his mind. “Because almost everything in this world is kill or be killed and I know probably more about surviving than any of you three fucks. If I wanted to lead Ranboo back here than I would’ve. But I didn’t, now did I?”

He didn’t realize he’d said Ranboo’s name until Dream let out an exasperated laugh, and Puffy stiffened slightly. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off. “You named that thing? You actually found it, and instead of, y’know, killing it or reporting it to someone who could; you named it? Are you serious right now?” 

“Oh fuck you Dream! You know so much about everything that goes on in this world don’t you? You know exactly the intentions of every fucking thing in this city so you know for certain what the right move in every situation is, don’t you? Of course you do! You’re just so smart because you’re Dream and you’re on the scouting parties so you know everything that goes on outside the camp, don’t you!” He yelled, fingers digging into his palms. 

“Tommy, calm down. No one said that.” Sam tried, eyes narrowed and patience at its end.

“Tommy you’re acting like a child .” Dream sneered, taking a step forward. He was testing Tommy. He was pushing like he always did, like he did to everyone but always to Tommy especially. Dream knew what buttons to push and he knew when and where to push them. “This isn’t the time for befriending monsters, this is a time for killing them. Tell us where that thing is so we can take care of it.” 

He glared at Dream, mouth upturned in a snarl. “Go choke on a dick.” He turned on his heel and tugged the door open once more.

“Tommy, don't do this! Ranboo is dangerous!” Sam shouted.

“Fuck you Sam!” Tommy yelled, flashing both middle fingers as he strode out of the container, not bothering to close it behind him.

A few others turned to him, watching with a combination of shock and confusion as Tommy stormed past all of them. Michael and Shroud paused in their game, watching him in confusion. Michael opened his mouth to speak, but one of the older women silenced him with a hand on his shoulder and a silent shake of her head.

He shoved past the few scouts that were only now wandering back into camp, ignoring their glares or comments to watch where he was going. The sky was beginning to darken already, the sun vanishing down over the horizon in an array of blues and purples and gold. Tommy didn’t need to look to know where he was doing, content to bubble and fume in his anger as his feet carried him to who knows where.

“Stupid bitch. Always so high and mighty, talking about Ranboo as if they don’t have a reason for anything. Fucker knows that it’s stupid to kill pointlessly, and yet he stills tries to go for something that hasn’t messed with him. Ranboo has no reason to go to the camp, especially if they’re hiding in a fucking office building to remain unseen.” He muttered, fingers itching to dig deeper into his palms.

His leg was stinging again, the bandages stained with fresher blood as the barely healing skin tore once more. He didn’t notice it. Just like he didn’t notice the stinging in his feet from so much walking.

Tommy didn’t realize he was going to the abandoned shipyard until he was already there, standing at the back of the docks and watching the still, murky water. He walked to the end of the dock, sitting down and pulling his knees to his chest. He glared out at the water, at the reflection of the stars and moon against the dirty liquid’s surface.

Kristin and Wilbur had been convinced they’d all make it out. They’d wanted the family to move before the Infection even spread. Before the city was put on lockdown and all bridges were knocked down to keep the Infection from spreading outside the city. Techno had believed they’d be stuck here forever, cracking jokes about how their bones had a higher chance of making it out than they all did. Phil had promised to get them out when he knew they were stable enough to do so.

Tommy was the one that hadn’t wanted to leave. He was the one that, as much as he would’ve loved to see the world, didn’t want to leave his friends and everyone he knew. He was clingy and selfish, and didn’t want to see the world change. So he’d been the one to persuade the others to let him stay just a little longer.

“Once I finish middle school, then let’s move. That way I won’t have to be the only new kid.” He’d reasoned, had watched as his parents considered the idea, had glared at Wilbur as he wrinkled his nose at having to wait longer to move.

His argument had won. They’d stayed so he could remain in the city with his friends for eighth grade. He’d been so excited, glad to know he didn’t have to leave his friends just yet. 

Then the Infection began to spread.

And the city was put on lockdown, people banned from going outside. Still, cars had lined up at the bridges in the hope that they’d be able to get out, that they’d be able to leave. 

Hundreds of cars fell into the cold water when the bridge was knocked down; collapsed at the center and sending every car on it into the waters below to drown. Tommy remembered seeing Phil go still when he saw the reports, saw the color drain from his face at the realization that they were trapped. That there was no way they’d be able to leave now. Kristin had rushed to Tommy, holding him in her arms and stroking his hair as she whispered reassurances. She’d known the moment that guilt had dug its claws into Tommy, the blame of why they hadn’t already left resting on his shoulders.

The Infection spread faster after the bridges fell, tearing through families, neighborhoods and districts as panic settled in. Some tried to use their boats to escape the city. Those that tried were never heard from again, but their boats were found abandoned in the middle of the bay.

After Techno died from the Infection, Wil came to the docks with Tommy. They’d sit there and stare at the water, hoping for a way out. That they’d make it out alive. That no one else in their family would have to die. 

Even though Tommy was the only one left now, he still came to the docks. He didn’t dare hope anymore; he hadn’t dared to hope in a while. He’d stopped hoping when he’d been barely a teenager and resorted to alcohol to drown his pain. He’d stopped hoping when he woke and his mum was still curled around him, unmoving.

His fists slowly unclenched, hand muscles loosening and beginning to ache. He looked down from the water, resting his forehead against his knees. He didn’t cry, he hadn’t done that in years. But he closed his eyes, and tried to focus on something other than his own thoughts. 

Tommy couldn’t go back to the camp now.

He was as good as banished. He’d insulted the people in charge, he’d stormed out of the camp, he’d refused to tell Dream where to find Ranboo. Yep, he was banished. There was no going back now. He was on his own again, like he had been in the time before the camp.

And if Tommy was on his own, then he needed to find a place that was safe to stay. And he needed to make sure Ranboo was okay. 

Tommy lifted his head, unwrapping his arms from around his knees and getting to his feet. He looked at the water one last time before turning away, taking off across the shipyard to head back into the city and find Ranboo. Hopefully he’d find them before Dream did.

He ran through the streets, not bothering with trying to stick to the shadows and avoid being seen. His steps were near silent, and that was enough for him. Besides, the likelihood that he would be tracked down and dragged back a second time in one day was slim. He should be fine just running through the empty streets.

More than once Tommy almost kicked himself, demanding to know why he was running to check on a monster. The same monster that was the entire reason he got himself kicked from the camp. The camp that provided a source of food- even if he didn’t take advantage of that much- and that provided safety and cover from the storms. He’d ditched it all in a fit of rage and defended a monster that had probably slaughtered dozens of people for their skin. A monster that he then named, that he was now running back to.

He really wanted to kick himself. Techno would’ve called him a fool, and Phil would’ve scolded him for being an idiot and risking his safety for something as ridiculous as befriending a monster. But Tommy couldn’t help it. Something about that monster- about Ranboo - was so gentle. Was too human-like. As if Ranboo used to have some part of them that was a person. 

And if his stupid decision ended up in his death, well then at least he could say he’d trusted his gut until the end.

Tommy stepped in through the window of the office building, sneakers crushing glass shards as he speedwalked to the back of the room and up the stairwell to the fifth floor. He didn’t even know if Ranboo was going to be in there. For all he knew, Ranboo could be halfway across the city, camping out over one of the few still running gas stations- all of which Tommy was banned from and therefore probably couldn’t follow them to.

He slowed his pace once he reached the fifth floor, running one hand along the wall as he walked down the hall to the room at the end, the door still ajar from earlier. 

“Ranboo?” He called out, voice as quiet as it could be while still being easily heard from the end of the hall. 

He heard a shuffling, something brushing against a wall further down. He perked up slightly, speed walking down the hallway, fingers still brushing along the stained white walls. He pushed open the door at the end of the hall, glancing around the dark room before finding the hulking yet slumped over figure.

Red and green eyes peered out at him from the crudely cut holes in the dirty sheet. Ranboo let out a quiet chirp-like sound, tail thumping once against the floor.

“Hey, Ranboo. You made it out okay, yeah?” Tommy asked, walking into the room and pausing in front of Ranboo. He held up a hand in front of them, pausing and waiting for a reaction.

Ranboo chirped again, dropping themself down onto all fours, taking a few steps forward to meet Tommy’s hand. He stroked the side of their face through the sheet, feeling the cold emptiness of the shadowy half before finding the line of stitches in the center of their head. He ran his hand along it, feeling the bumps of stitches beneath the sheet as he moved to trace along the other side of their face.

“I’m probably gonna be sticking with you for a bit.” Tommy said quietly, reaching up and scratching behind Ranboo’s ear, smiling slightly at the content croak the monster made. “You gotta promise not to eat me though.”

Ranboo drew back, pupils narrowing in what could only be described as a glare. They made another croak, this time one of annoyance or disgust- which one Tommy couldn’t tell. 

Tommy sighed, looping around to Ranboo’s side and slumping against the wall. He was tired, eyelids growing heavier by the second. He glanced up at Ranboo, watching as they curled up beside him, sheet covering the long and thin limbs that folded up beneath themself as they rested their head on them and wrapped their tail around a leg.

“You’re an odd one.” Tommy commented, smiling slightly at the sarcastic sounding croak he got in response. “Seriously. I mean, you understand what I’m saying and respond, you understand what’s going on around you and the situation you’re in. It’s surprising.”

He looked up at the ceiling. Various stains covered the panels, some covered in questionable stains and others missing altogether. “I got kicked out of the camp I was in ‘cause of you.” He paused. “Well, moreso because of me. But kind of because of you.” Tommy sighed. “I knew it was going to happen. It was always a matter of time. They were always going to get sick of me at some point. Took longer than I expected, though.”

Ranboo blinked, tilting their head slightly questioningly. They let out a curious chirp. Tommy glanced back at them. “You remind me of someone I used to know, now that I think about it. He was a quiet kid, really liked computers and video games, kept to himself mostly, but could win any debate. I don't know what happened to him after the Infection spread.” 

Ranboo was quiet, eyes staring out at something not quite there, something almost sad in their gaze. Tommy watched them, a question he didn’t dare ask on his lips. Instead he turned away again, this time looking down at his hands as he tugged at the hangnails on his right hand.

“Do you remember a lot from before the Infection?” He said quietly, so much so he almost feared Ranboo hadn’t heard the question.

Then they jerked, startled, and looked at him. They looked away for a moment before their gaze turned back to him. A short croak and the barest of nods.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Ranboo merely watched Tommy, and Tommy picked at his nails. Tommy wasn’t sure what to say, and part of him wondered if Ranboo would know how to fill the silence even if they could speak.

Finally, he forced something out. Quiet words that barely took up any space in the abandoned office break room. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re alive.”

Tommy fell asleep soon after, unsure if Ranboo had even been awake to hear what he said. 

Ranboo let out a quiet chirp, and gently tugged Tommy closer to their side.

Turns out, scavenging is much easier with a giant cryptid monster thing with you.

Tommy found that out the next day when he and Ranboo began their roaming of the city. Unsurprisingly, the few other survivors Tommy saw stayed away when they saw the hulking figure at his side, covered by a sheet but their size still not hindered. 

People tend to not mess with the guy with a giant sheet covered monster following behind him. Which meant that Tommy could slip in and out of gas stations and the sparsely populated trading areas without being threatened or scammed, so long as Ranboo waited just outside.

On the downside, it meant that the day became a lot more boring. With not as much time needed to get food, it meant more hours of the day to walk around out of boredom. 

“When was the last time you had ice cream, Ranboob?” Tommy asked, hands clasped behind his head as he strolled down a side street, Ranboo at his side as they looked around.

Ranboo chirped, a note to it that Tommy was beginning to recognize to mean ‘no’ or ‘not sure’. He nodded, squaring his jaw in determination. “Alright then, we’re gonna get us some ice cream. There’s a small warehouse place that somehow still has some. I go there sometimes, the owner is nice.” He wrinkled his nose. “Almost too nice.”

The two set off for the warehouse, Ranboo trailing behind as Tommy led them to the warehouse. To an outsider, Tommy could understand how it sounded like a plot to get them both murdered. But, as he assured Ranboo, it wasn’t. 

Tommy’d found the ice cream warehouse a few months ago on one of his wandering trips throughout the city. Purpled had mentioned once that he found an odd warehouse that housed a guy that somehow still had cold ice cream. Tommy, desiring ice cream, had tracked down the warehouse and found it. The guy who ran it went by Bad and was nice enough- except that he had an obnoxious habit of saying “language” to anyone who cursed.

Which Tommy did quite frequently.

Tommy and Bad both got on each other’s nerves a lot during that ice cream visit and the ones that followed.

But other than that, Bad was nice enough. He was cheerful and kind, and he served good ice cream. And good ice cream wasn’t something to take for granted when living in a city that had supposedly run out of it years ago. And considering the fact that Ranboo had clearly been through a lot, Tommy figured that they probably needed some ice cream.

The warehouse itself was a small one on a side road leading into the city. It was on the far south side, where the city had- before the bridges were knocked down and the roads leading out were destroyed- connected to the rest of the country. Tommy didn’t bother trying to find a window to climb through, simply walking around the side of the building to the door he already knew was there. 

He tugged it open, stepping inside the mostly abandoned warehouse as Ranboo crouched to waddle in. “Hello Bad!” He said loudly, voice reverberating inside the silent warehouse.

“Tommy! There you are! I was wondering when you’d come back!” Bad cheered, turning away from the freezers in the center of the warehouse, a dozen tables and chairs scattered around the room. It was almost like some odd warehouse ice cream parlor, made to feel as homey as it could be given the circumstances.

“Yes yes I’m back for more. I’ve brought a friend this time, Bad! Meet Ranboo! They’re my new companion since I’ve been kicked out of the survivor group I was in.” Tommy said cheerfully, as if there wasn’t anything concerning about the towering monster at his side with a sheet over their head and vibrant red and green eyes peering out at the freezers.

Bad paused, looking between Ranboo and Tommy in shock for a moment. “Al…righty then! I’ll grab two bowls!”

Tommy looked at Ranboo and grinned. Ranboo gave a nervous chirp.

“Bad somehow always has such good ice cream.” Tommy hummed, taking another bite of his rocky road ice cream as he looked out across the city. The rooftop he and Ranboo sat on was one of the apartment complexes on the outskirts that gave a great view of most of the city. Of the tall office buildings and apartment complexes, of the holds nature had on the city as it was slowly reclaimed, even of the scattered survivor camps that kept to themselves.

Ranboo gave a quiet purr, having figured out a few minutes ago how to use their inconveniently long claws to scoop ice cream; sheet pushed back over their head to allow them to eat it. Tommy pointedly didn’t look at the blood dripping into the ice cream bowl, or the hole in Ranboo’s face where said ice cream was presumably going. 

“I dunno how he gets it, but he’s never run out of ice cream. I’ve tried to buy it all off him, but it’s never worked. He just always has more. Quite remarkable, honestly.” Tommy took another bite. 

The two fell into silence, both simply enjoying one another’s company and the gentle breeze flowing past them. The few breezes that came through the city were much easier to enjoy when there weren’t buildings towering above to block it all. 

Tommy kicked his legs back and forth, letting his bare heels tap against the bricks beneath him. His shoes lay discarded a few feet away, having been kicked off the moment he sat down on the ledge.

Ranboo let out a questioning chirp, Tommy glancing over to see them staring at the dirtied bandages on his leg. Tommy looked down at it for a moment before lifting his leg up and resting it on the ledge. He pulled the bandage off carefully, wincing when it stuck to his skin slightly.

“Got this trying to escape you the first night,” he explained, not noticing the flash of guilt in Ranboo’s eyes, “I fell through one of the crates leading to the window, and got a whole bunch of wood stuck in my leg. Been walking around too much for it to heal properly.”

The wounds from the shards of wood hadn’t healed. Blood was crusted on and around it, the bits of scabs that had formed already torn away. Tommy frowned at it, almost hearing Puffy’s annoyed voice. “You need to take better care of that Tommy! If you needed your bandages changed then you should’ve told me you idiot. I can’t help if you don’t tell me you need help.” His frown turned into a scowl.

“Except I don’t need help and you’re not here to change my bandages.” He muttered, setting his bowl down to wrap his arms around his knees. Ranboo croaked something, scooting forward to sit beside him. The sheet was back on over their head, all that remained uncovered being their eyes.

He glanced at Ranboo for a moment before looking away. “I’m fine, Ran. Nothin’ wrong. Just a little flesh wound.” Ranboo croaked again, looking unconvinced. “Really! Just a little blood, nothin’ wrong with that. Besides I don’t need Puffy or the others to take care of me.They were always treating me like I didn’t know my way around the world. Fuckers didn’t know the half of it.”

Ranboo tilted their head, studying him. He met their gaze, glancing away immediately. “Why’re you staring at me like that? ‘M not hiding anything.” He muttered.

Slowly, one claw came out from under the sheet, reaching for Tommy’s head. He stilled, waiting for the burst of cold from the shadowed hand. But the cold was comfortable when he felt it. It was cool, gentle, like the breeze. Steady yet almost faint as Ranboo patted his head. 

Tommy couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto his face.

All in all, things were more interesting with Ranboo there.

They kept Tommy company at night and during the day, wandering around the parks turned to small forests and the abandoned side streets with him. The two of them had a sort of pattern. A cycle that they went through and were content to continue on in for as long as they could. A comforting sort of cycle, the kind where everything stayed the same.

And for the first time in a long time, Tommy didn’t push away the memories of his family that emerged. He didn’t shove down the memories tied to the shabby coat he used to always wear, or the laugh in the back of his mind at a joke he knew his mum would’ve enjoyed. He let them flow through his mind, smiling quietly to himself. Sometimes he even talked about them; answering Ranboo’s questioning gaze with explanations of what his family had been like before everything went to shit.

Ranboo listened with more emotion and interest in their eyes and the thumps of their tail than Tommy had seen on anyone or anything’s face in years. 

Tommy smiled more than he had at the old survivor camp. He stuck around the office building, the shabby and abandoned break room on the fifth floor feeling more like something almost a home than the old camp ever had, even when he used to try and convince himself otherwise.

And wherever he went, he wasn’t alone.

Ranboo followed, accompanying him always and getting excited when they explored new areas they hadn’t been to before. Tommy grinned at the almost childlike excitement in Ranboo’s eyes, at the excited chirps and content purrs that came from the back of Ranboo’s throat. 

And whatever happened, neither he or Ranboo were ever alone.

Some nights Tommy woke up to Ranboo distressed, their eyes scrunched closed as they made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a croak. Carefully he shook them awake, whispering reassurances in the dark as they startled awake. Part of Tommy wished that Ranboo could speak, that way he’d know what was wrong. Part of him knew that if Ranboo was anything like the kid they used to be, than they probably wouldn’t tell him what was wrong even if they could.

Some nights, it was Tommy that woke up in a panic. Nights when he’d seen Phil fall backwards, a bullet through his chest from a standoff over supplies gone wrong, and be so close that the blood splattered across his face. Nights when Techno’s screams of pain from his room kept Tommy awake, left him crying and whispering frantic apologies over and over from outside his older brother’s room. Nights when Wilbur’s face haunted his dreams, his head caved in from a shotgun wound that Tommy had never seen, brains sliding down his face as he pulled Tommy close, whispering over and over that he’d join him soon.

Nights where Tommy awoke to tears trickling down his cheeks and panicked sobs emerging from his throat. I hadn’t had those nightmares when I’d pushed my memories away ; he’d whispered to himself once, sobs breaking every other word as he fought for a handle on himself and to shovel everything back into the box at the back of his mind.

Ranboo had made a quiet chirp, half risen from the ball they’d curled up into to sleep. Tommy’d glanced at them, words dying on his tongue. Something bitter rose in his throat. Something scared and lonely and all too much like the child he’d been before grief and alcohol had ruined his innocence.

Ranboo crept towards him, arms reaching out from under the sheet to gently pick him up and cradle him close, leaning back against the wall as his head rested against their shoulder. Ranboo started to purr, then. A quiet, comforting sound that reverberated in their chest, warming Tommy from where he pressed against the sheet covering their lanky body. The warmth made his tears run dry, made his eyes grow heavy again with the promise of sleep. 

Tommy slept curled up beside Ranboo after that. He’d ignore when Ranboo disappeared in the night, coming back later with faint stains on the sheet and the smell of rotting skin no longer there; simply sitting up long enough for Ranboo to settle back down against his side.

And for a while, Tommy was content. He had Ranboo, he could smuggle whatever food he needed, hell he even had access to ice cream! Things were great. They were calm without the worry of annoying camp leaders and scout leaders and medics fussing over him. Hell, his leg had even started healing, finally! 

But Tommy had never been known for his luck. 

And maybe he was a fool for ignoring the clear fact that Ranboo did kill people. That the reasons they vanished at nights sometimes was to murder and skin another survivor to replace the rotting skin on their body. That in the days before they vanished, they always seemed crankier, as if hungry. And when they came back, they were cheerful and calm.

Tommy knew that Ranboo was a monster.

He knew that they were a murderer. That they brutally murdered people. That they skinned them and ate parts of them. He wasn’t stupid enough to not realize that. But until today, he was able to push it out of his mind.

“Hand over what’s in the bag, kid.” The man sneered.

The second one kicked Tommy again and he let out a cry. Still he clutched onto the bag, hand in a white knuckle grip on the strap of snacks he’d stolen on a whim. “I think I’m gonna see if I can get it to Michael and Shroud. Not many people in that old camp care about those two, they’re young so they need food more than the adults do.” He’d told Ranboo when he headed out that morning. 

He glared up at the two men, gritting his teeth as he pulled the bag closer to himself. “Go fuck yourselves.” He growled. 

The first man’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t even need to look at the second man for him to move. The second man’s foot slammed into Tommy’s stomach and he coughed, pain lacing through his body as a second kick followed the first. Then a third, then a fourth, and Tommy vomited; his meager breakfast spilling back out onto the pavement. He curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach as his breath heaved in his chest.

“Give me the fucking bag, kid.” The first man repeated. He crouched down in front of Tommy and grabbed him by the chin, yanking him up to look the man in the eyes. His breath stank, hot and smelling of cigarette smoke against Tommy’s face. 

Tommy spat in his face, a few driblets of vomit mixing with saliva as it landed right on the man’s chin. Tommy cursed himself internally for missing the guy’s mouth. For a long moment, neither the first man or the second moved. Tommy grinned at him, breathing still unsteady and hand still clinging to the bag. “Bitch.”

It was the wrong move.

The man was moving once more, throwing Tommy backward and striding up to him as Tommy hit the alley wall with a cry. He looked down at Tommy, anger in his eyes and a sneer on his lips. “You little brat .” He said through gritted teeth. 

Before Tommy could fully drag himself up to a sitting position, a boot made contact with his face; head snapping back against the concrete as his head spun and ears rung. Then a boot against his side, the toe of it digging into his ribs and sending him rolling over. Again and again came the kicks, pain etched into every muscle as Tommy whimpered and cried out in pain. 

And the first man paused, reaching down to turn Tommy over and grab him by the collar. He tilted his head, looking at Tommy with something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “If you didn’t have such a foul mouth, maybe you’d be likable.” He looked at the other man. “I know how we can fix that.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, blue eyes full of fear matching his bruised face and bloody nose. The second man laughed. “Yeah, I think we can do that. See, I even brought my knife with me today.” He pulled out a pocket knife, the small, glinting blade so much more intimidating now when he held it than it had ever been.

“One more round before we listen to the brat scream, yeah? I’m enjoying his silence.” He said to the second, and his left fist wound back before slamming into Tommy’s nose, a crack sounding in the air. Tommy barely bit back a hoarse cry, biting down on his tongue instead.

The man dropped him, and Tommy crumpled in a heap like a sack of bricks. His arms hurt, his legs hurt, everything hurt. He didn’t want to move- no, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He tasted blood on his lips, his nose throbbing and burning in time to the rivets of crimson sliding down his face.

The second man crouched down, holding up the pocket knife in one hand. “Keep him steady for me, yeah? I wouldn’t want to miss and slice open his pretty face.” The first man chuckled in agreement, crouching down as well and grabbing Tommy’s jaw roughly.

A bit of fight crept back into Tommy’s body; fear of the blade now inches from his face lightening the heaviness in his bones enough that he could thrash however weakly it may have been against the first man’s grasp. Blunt fingernails dug into his cheeks, holding his mouth open slightly and keeping his head still.

Tommy couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him as the second man pulled his tongue out slightly, the cool metal of the knife pressing down-

A roar from the end of the alleyway and both men jerked. The one holding Tommy’s face let him go, eyes widening in confusion and fear at the figure at the end of the alleyway. Tommy’s chest ached with a flicker of hope then panic. 

Ranboo stood at the mouth of the alleyway, shoulders hunched and claws extended beneath the sheet. Their eyes were narrowed, the pupils such thin slits they were hardly visible at all. A guttural growl escaped their throat, and they took one step forward.

The second man released Tommy, stumbling to his feet and stepping back. The first man glanced to the second, fear settling in his gaze as he looked between his companion, Tommy, and Ranboo.

“What the fuck is-“ 

Ranboo surged forward, arm extending as their claws sliced through the man’s arm as if it were nothing more then butter; flesh and muscle turning to ribbons of crimson. The man screamed, falling backward and clutching his arm as he scrambled away. 

The second man looked between the first and Ranboo, and then he bolted; attempting to sprint past Tommy and Ranboo both to get to the alley’s exit. Ranboo’s tail snapped out, wrapping around his ankle and crushing it instantly. The man fell to his knees with a cry of pain. 

Tommy stared, transfixed and terrified as Ranboo’s tail snapped back, flinging the man against the alley wall as if he were little more than a garbage bag. 

Ranboo stalked towards the two men, tail swishing back and forth as the two men whimpered against the wall, one clutching his destroyed arm and the other one staring up at them in fear. They paused before the two men, another growl emenating from their throat before slowly, steadily, Ranboo rose to their full height.

The two men’s eyes widened further as the towering monster rose to their full height, sheet sliding over their head and landing in a heap at their feet. The patchwork skin was newer than Tommy had realized, droplets of blood still trickling from the crude stitching. Ranboo’s second pair of ribs widened further with a sickening crack, skin tearing as the bones spread farther apart; blood trickling down from the torn seams. 

Then their jaw unhinged.

Skin that stretched then snapped, stitches falling loose and unraveling other bits of sewn-on skin as the face split open to reveal two sets of jagged, razor sharp fangs, a too long tongue trailing out of their mouth. A second set of teeth was visible behind the first, a third still behind that. Warts and saliva coated the tongue, a forked tip flicking out towards the two men. 

Ranboo grabbed the man with the injured arm, eyes flashing in pure, unbridled rage as they lifted him into the air. Claws dug into skin and the man cried out again, thrashing wildly as the monster’s nails sunk deeper and deeper into his skin, blood spilling down his sleeves and landing in heavy droplets on the concrete below.

Slowly, steadily, Ranboo began to pull. 

The man realized what was happening the moment Tommy did; his eyes widening in terror as he spluttered, pleading frantically to be released as steadily Ranboo’s grip tightened, as they pulling harder and harder, eyes staring dead eyed and furious at the man. 

Blood splattered through the air and onto the walls and ground as the man split in two; his guttural screams of pain torn in half at the same moment as his torso. Ranboo threw the two halves to the ground in disgust, turning to the second man with another, low growl.

The second man scrambled backward, pressing himself against the wall as he begged and pleaded; his companion’s blood splattered across his face and clothes. Ranboo looked down at the man’s crushed ankle, almost contemplative. Then he looked back up at the man again.

He stomped on the man’s other ankle; a defeating sound of bones shattering splitting the air to be immediately followed by the screams then sobs of the man, his body writhing as he fought to pull himself away, tears streaming down his face as he gasped. His foot lay flat beneath Ranboo’s heel, ankle bones in jagged pieces poking out through his skin.

Ranboo reached forward, sinking their claws into the man’s left shoulder before grabbing ahold of his right arm, tongue flicking to and fro absently, saliva hitting the asphalt in anticipation of their next meal. The man realized what was happening too late, his shrieks of pain filling the air once more as Ranboo ripped the arm from the socket.

The sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing mixed with pained screams rang in Tommy’s ears. He pushed himself against the alley wall, scrambling to get as far away as possible as air left his lungs in panicked bursts. He was shaking, staring wide eyed at the creature he’d believed to be his friend as they lifted the severed arm to their mouth and bite down, tearing off a chunk of it and flicking their tail in delight.

The first man’s blood was on Tommy’s face, hot and sticky and with a warmth that he knew couldn’t be scrubbed away. His hands shook, fingers digging into his palms as Ranboo raised a claw, bringing it up before slashing down at the man’s chest.

Skin and flesh turned to ribbons, blood spilling out as the man gagged and wheezed, watching in horror as he bled out. Flashes of bone portruded from the flesh; ribs now no longer hidden thanks to the deep cuts. The man looked up at Tommy, something terrified and pleading in his eyes as mouthed “help me” .

And as much as Tommy wanted to look away, wanted to get to his feet and run away from this damn alleyway with the corpses and the blood and the monster standing in front of him; he couldn’t move. His limbs refused to cooperate, muscles locked in place and lungs barely remembering how to inhale and exhale.

When the second man finally stilled, Ranboo tossed the severed arm to the side. It was mostly bare, little more than bone left. Then they turned back to Tommy, licking the blood from their lips before their tongue retracted into the mouth, jaw rehinging as they took a step closer to Tommy.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Tommy shrieked, pressing further against the wall and eyes wide in pure fear.

Ranboo flinched, pausing. Their pupils dilated, the warmth in them doused in hurt. Then they tried again, a wounded and questioning croak sounding from the back of their throat.

“Get- get away!” Tommy repeated, voice not as strong this time. “You- you fucking killed them!” Ranboo paused again.

Tommy raised his shaking hands, digging them into his hair and tangling his fingers in dirtied gold strands. He stared down at his knees, at the droplets of blood that had splattered onto him. His breath was rasping, unsteady. “You- you tore them apart. You murdered them!” The screams of pain echoed in his head, the desperate plea in the man’s eyes all he could see.

Tommy barely had time to lean over to the side before he vomited.

He held himself, shaking like a leaf and staring at the two corpses, at the half-eaten arm . The screaming was reverberating in his head.

Ranboo stepped away, picking back up the sheet and sliding it back over their head. Then they walked closer to Tommy again, pausing in front of him in a crouch. They reached out, attempting to calm Tommy as his fingers dug deeper into his skull, tugging and tugging and staring at the ground as his breath wheezed.

Tommy looked back at Ranboo again, rage overtaking the shock on his face for a moment as he stumbled to feet, pushing his back against the wall. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” Ranboo yanked their claw back as if burned. They let out another sad, questioning chirp.

Tommy turned away, taking a step back towards the mouth of the alley. Then another, then another, and then he broke into a run. Ranboo watched him disappear back into the street.

He didn’t know where exactly he was running to, just what he was running from. He needed to get away. Away from Ranboo, his own head, and the mutilated corpses in the alleyway. He stumbled once, foot catching on the other heel, but he was running again a moment later.

He should’ve known he’d run back to the docks. He always came back to the docks, after all.

And yet he still blinked in surprise when he paused just before he stepped onto the worn wooden boards. With a shaky exhale he walked down the dock, sitting down at the end of it as he watched the still water. 

Part of him didn’t want to believe it. Wanted to exist in the state of blissful denial that told him that Ranboo wasn’t actually a cold-blooded murderer, that they hadn’t torn apart two people and eaten one’s arm. That the skin of those men was probably going on some part of Ranboo’s body.

The idea of it made him nauseous, his stomach tumbling in regret and fear at seeing his sheet-covered friend again. But Ranboo was a fucking murderer , and here Tommy was questioning himself for being afraid to see them.

Of course he was afraid! It was the small sliver of his own damned self-preservation that poked in only at the most convenient times! That only told him to stop drinking when it wrecked his mind and body almost to the point of beyond repair, that only told him that leaving the camp was a bad idea after he’d already done it, that only told him that he should be afraid of Ranboo after he’d seen for himself that they killed people.

Tommy pulled his knees to his chest, resting both crossed arms on top and burying his face in them. The shattering of the man’s ankle followed by his scream of agony echoed in Tommy’s head, a hundred warnings from years ago that he should’ve listened to following behind it.

But still, the other part of him did believe it. The part of him that had always known and accepted what Ranboo was. The part of him that knew why Ranboo killed those guys, the part that knew it was for him. It was because those men hurt him. And as much as Tommy may have wanted to reject the realization, he couldn’t. Because it was the truth.

And it wasn’t as if Tommy hadn’t killed people before. That wasn’t it. It was the way it was done; the inhumane, monstrous way it was done that irked him. But it wasn’t senseless violence and killing. There was a purpose behind it. A reason for the brutality.

Ranboo had been protecting Tommy.

He blinked his eyes open, lifting his head to stare out at the water. He’d been avenging him, had taken out the guys that had wanted to cut out his tongue. And sure it may have been brutal, but a small part of Tommy was grateful. Grateful that for the first time in a long time, someone had been there when he needed them. That for once, he didn’t have to just pick himself back up after a beating and hide in an apartment complex while he waited for his body to stop shaking.

Tommy closed his eyes again, inhaling then exhaling. As much as the corpses irked him, the blood and gore burned into the back of his eyelids, he needed to go back. He needed to find Ranboo. 

Because he knew that Ranboo wouldn’t ever hurt him the way they hurt those assholes. 

He got to his feet, slowly moving from a walk into a sprint, darting back through the shipyard and then back out into the side streets of the city. He looped back around to the alleyway Ranboo’d last been in, heart skipping a beat when Ranboo wasn’t there. He whirled around, searching the empty streets for a sign of them while ignoring the corpses hidden in the shadows of the alleyway.

“Ranboo! Ranboo?” He called out, cupping his hands around his mouth as he turned. His voice echoed through the empty city, but not a single sign that Ranboo heard him. He turned, running back down the empty streets.

He called out for Ranboo, turning and looking around the apartment complexes and office buildings scattered about on all sides. “Ranboo!”

Then his eyes lit up with an idea. 

There were only two places Ranboo would be. Either the office building where the two of them hid in, or the warehouse by the docks. Tommy bolted off towards the office building.

He jumped through the broken window, not skipping a beat as he sped up the stairs and headed to the fifth floor. He was panting slightly when he made it, ignoring the aching in his body in favor of jogging down the hallway to the break room at the back.

“Ranboo!” He exclaimed, pushing the door open.

It was empty. No trace of Ranboo newer then from that morning when the two of them had woken up. Tommy blinked, anxiety threading through his gut as he turned around and ran back down the hall then down the stairs.

The warehouse was back by the camp, and that meant that it was close to where they might be found. Dream might be looking for Ranboo. And Dream had wanted to kill Ranboo-

His breath quickened alongside his pace as he sprinted through the city; the sound of his sneakers slapping against the ground ringing out across the silence. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, he just needed to run. He needed to get to the warehouse before someone else did.

The clouds began to gray at some point as he ran back to the shipyard; kicking himself mentally for not checking the warehouse first when he’d been at the docks before. He jumped the fence, hurtling over it with barely a pause as he sprinted through the abandoned piles of logs and shipping containers, dodging abandoned machinery and running back to the warehouse he’d first met Ranboo in.

Back up the pile of crates that his leg still throbbed in memory of, scrambling up them as safely as he could to dive through the window.

A gunshot rang out, and then a shriek of pain.

Tommy landed on the catwalk, staring wide eyed in horror at the ground below.

Dream stared triumphantly, a smile tracing at the edges of his lips as he strode forward, gun still not lowered as Ranboo stumbled backward. Inky blood spilled from a bullet wound in their chest, void black liquid trickling down the dirtied sheet they still stubbornly wore.

“Finally, I found you.” Dream breathed; confidence in every step as he aimed the gun to fire again, the weapon aimed at Ranboo’s shoulder. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he watched as Dream’s finger hovered over the trigger, as he watched as Ranboo shrank back; their lanky body folding in on themself and looking so very small.

Ranboo let out a quiet croak.

Tommy snapped.

He was leaping down the stairs before he realized what he was doing, hurtling the railing halfway down and landing in a roll before sprinting at Dream; tackling him to the ground with a feral shriek. The gun went off with a bang , and distantly Tommy heard Ranboo cry out in pain.

He was on top of Dream, punching every part of the man he could reach, Dream’s hands fumbling to grab onto him as he cried out in pain and surprise. “YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU SICK FUCK YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” Tommy roared, knuckles connecting again and again with Dream’s face, knocking away the hands reaching for him.

Dream got a hold of him finally, hands reaching around his neck and thumbs pressing on his airways, stopping the breath from reaching his lungs as nails dug into his throat. Instantly Tommy stopped punching, hands fumbling instead for Dream’s own throat, squeezing tighter and tighter as he fought for air.

Tommy snarled at Dream, spots entering his vision, as Dream gasped and glowered back at him; his usually handsome face contorted into something ugly. Tommy’s grip loosened, mouth opening and closing like a fish as his vision swam, head pounding and lungs burning from lack of air.

His hands fell away, and Dream threw him backward, Tommy’s body hitting the ground with a thud. Instantly, air rushed back into his lungs and he gagged, head spinning as he tried and failed to get up. 

Dream wiped the blood from his nose and lip, glaring at Tommy as he picked up his gun and strode past him. “I’ll deal with your idiocy in a minute. First I need to take care of this freak.” He then turned to Ranboo, striding towards them. 

Ranboo watched, a whimper escaping them as they raised one clawed hand to their shoulder, clutching at the bullet wound. Blood spilled past their hand, threading down the sheet and their arm. 

“LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Tommy yelled, voice hoarse and desperate as he clawed his way forward, limbs heavy as fought against his own body in order to move. 

Dream paid him no mind, stopping in front of Ranboo and raising his gun once more. “Goodnight, Ranboo.” 

Ranboo looked past Dream, eyes locking onto Tommy as he screamed at Dream to leave them alone, to turn around and march back over to him and kill him instead. Their red and green eyes were sad, mourning something Tommy didn't understand. 

Bang.

A third shot, this one right through Ranboo’s head. 

Tommy howled, sobs wracking his body as he stumbled to his feet, charging towards Dream and Ranboo. “YOU BITCH!” He shrieked. 

Dream turned, expression changing to one of momentary surprise before Tommy was lunging at him; knocking him over again and sending the gun skidding away from his hands. Tommy scrambled for it, crawling towards the gun as Dream dragged him back. 

“You cant save it Tommy! That thing is already dead!” Dream shouted, shoving Tommy away and lunging for the gun. 

“THAT THING WAS MY FRIEND!” Tommy yelled, diving for the gun. His fingers locked around the grip as he yanked it back towards his chest. 

Dream lunged at him as Tommy turned, freezing as the barrel pointed between his eyes. Tommy was panting, angry tears in his eyes but refusing to fall. Dream’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear on his face before he regained his composure. 

“Tommy, hand me the gun. Now.” Dream said firmly, hands held out in front of him as he lowered into a crouch in front of the teen. 

Tommy gritted his teeth. “You had no reason to kill them.” He snarled, hands shaking slightly but finger locked on the trigger. 

Dream sighed. “You don't understand. That thing would've killed you. It would've killed everyone . Hell, there's already a dozen missing persons reports from around the camps! That thing killed all of them! I'll bet you watched it kill some of them! What makes you think it wouldn’t turn on you.” His voice was firm but even, smooth like water with the venom of a snake. Dream had always been known for his silver tongue. 

And for a little while, Tommy had believed every word he'd said. But that was a long time ago. That was before the Infection spread and everything went to shit.

And Tommy knew better now.

“Stop calling them a fucking it. Ranboo was a person ! Ranboo used to be a kid in my class, did you know that? Did you know that they were mutated by the Infection just like my brother was ? Yeah, I'll bet you didn't know that you sick fuck! Because all you care about is your damn self!” He yelled. He glanced over at Ranboo, crumpled on the ground, the sheet stained with blood and their tail laying limply at their side. 

Dream lunged, teeth bared. Tommy pulled the trigger but missed; a bullet firing off towards the warehouse wall with a bang . Dream yanked the gun away, tossing it out of reach before grabbing Tommy by the neck. He leaned in close, eyes flashing with anger. 

“You used to have sense, Tommy. But ever since they died you've lost all sense.” He growled. 

Tommy struggled, clawing at Dream's arms but to no avail. “Don't you fucking dare talk about my family.” He hissed, blue eyes narrowed in anger.  “You were Techno’s friend, and you abandoned him.” 

“I'm gonna tell you a little secret about the world, Tommy. Because you're still young and don't understand it yet.” Dream lowered his voice to a whisper. “Surviving is about putting yourself above others. Your family is dead because you clung to each other. Ranboo is dead, because you two clung to each other.” 

He got to his feet, yanking Tommy up with him. Tommy grabbed at his arms, trying to get some sort of hold on the man before he was dragged away. He caught sight of Ranboo again, motionless on the ground, a puddle of blood surrounding their body. 

“Let's get you back to camp, yeah? Michael and Shroud have been worried about you. We can just tell them and everyone else that you were injured and had to come back.” Dream cooed, voice sickly sweet. 

“Like hell I’m going back with you!” Tommy snarled, continuing to struggle. 

Dream glared at him, something cold in his eyes. “You're coming back with me. And I'll put a bullet through you if that's what it takes.” There was a silent promise in his voice, a threat clear in his words that he would deliver on. 

Something in Tommy cracked. Something small and childlike that shrunk back at the thought of dying. But even more so that grieved the friend lying dead on the ground. 

Tommy couldn't escape. He'd known that and still tried. Dream wanted him at that camp, for what reason he didn't know, but he was never going to be free. 

So he let himself fall limp, let himself be carried out of the warehouse, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at Ranboo’s body. A silent apology on his lips, a plea not for forgiveness- he knew he didn't deserve that- but for Ranboo to finally be at peace. 

For both parts of him- the child Tommy had seen swinging alone at the playground, and the creature that had deserved to live just as much as he and Dream did. 

Tommy was silent when Dream finally set him down, a guiding hand on the back of his neck, a threat blatant behind the nails lightly digging into his skin. The two of them walked to the camp, Tommy staring blankly ahead of him as survivors crowded around to see who Dream had brought back. Michael and Shroud yelled for him, their relief turning to worry as they saw the empty look on his face. 

Faintly, Tommy could see the spectre of a child with dirty blond hair stumble into the camp alongside him; eyes dull with grief and hate. He looked over to the child, and whispered something only he could hear. 

I’m sorry.

And the child whispered back, the hate ebbing from his eyes as he looked at Tommy. 

I’m sorry too .