Chapter Text
Tommy doesn’t know how it started.
First, it was the cell, with Dream, unease in his stomach as his eyes darted all over the place; the lava, the obsidian, the glowstone, then back to Dream. Talking about how this is for closure; how he won’t come back again.
Then, came explosions. Tommy knew deep down that Dream was responsible - even if he didn’t know how - so he did the logical thing. Questioning Dream, throwing some accusations in his face, and lastly eating his potatoes angrily. He knew the other liked this recent development, knew that he would be stuck here for a week.
It didn’t help that the days in the prison cell were absolute hell; he had trouble sleeping - not that he could sleep in the first place, with Dream there - and the potatoes were bland. (It reminds him of a certain pinkett, snow and happy times. He quickly stops thinking about potatoes.)
The mood with Dream never was something lighthearted, however with the heat, it made it worse. Quicker to start arguments, get annoyed or mad at small things the other does, and it’s a bad mood in general. With all these combined, a big - and final, in Tommy’s case - argument was inevitable.
It started… somewhere, Tommy doesn’t really remember. It could be anything; from Dream sighing too much, to him feeling the need to show he is brave and isn’t scared. Scared of the cell, scared of the inhabitant.
Either way, it came to the subject of the Revival Book. Dream is a right prick, so how could he possibly have a book that could revive people? Which gods would even allow that? From the ones he knows, they would never allow it.
Dream - ever the bitch - disagreed and of course he did the (un)reasonable for proving his point; he started punching. Tommy took a second to realise he was punched, that he is continually being punched at, but soon punches back. It’s too late, as his body slams against the wall. His body gets weaker the more health he’s taking. He still tries to fight, of course, he’s a soldier after all. Dream realised this and crushed his hand, with the prosthetic fingers that break with a deep crunch . He doesn't know how he ended up on the floor, when he feels Dream’s foot put more weight on his definitely broken hand.
There’s screaming, he numbly thinks, and it oddly sounds like his screaming. The screaming consists of; stop, please, Dream, don’t.
His vision was one of the first things to go - which tends to happen if you bash your head against a wall - but Tommy wishes it was his hearing, as he can practically feel his heart beating slower (no matter how much he begs that it doesn’t... He silently wonders if it’ll be better when he’s dead.) and the cackles of a mad man. A mad man who loves the colour green; who has an ego bigger than the universe; who proclaims to be able to revive people.
Slowly his life comes to an end, and he becomes lost in the sea of the dead.
-
Tommy awoke to the feeling of arms cradling his aching body. It took him a moment to be completely present - death having made him feel detached from his very being. Though, once he had regained his senses, he opened his eyes sluggishly to the bleary sight of a comforting face he knew well looking down at him.
“Ma?” He croaked, voice hoarse from shouting for help, for it to stop, for the pain to go away-
“I’ve got you, my dear,” She said, softly, as if she could hear his thoughts spiralling. There was a hint of anger within her voice as she spoke, making him panic slightly, before reassuring himself that this was his mother, she wouldn’t ever be truly angry at him.
Shuffling slightly, he bit back a distressed trill as his injuries were disturbed before the feeling of pain faded as his body adjusted to being within the middle of both life and death, teetering on the edge of both - as if one wrong move would send him toppling over the edge.
“Where.. That was my last canon life, wasn’t it?” He mumbled, “Dream.. Dream said he was going to revive me, I don’t wanna go back.”
He heard his mother sigh, causing him to tense, before he forced himself to relax once again. The mantra in his head reminded him that it was just his mother, the one person in this universe that he could trust.
“It’s alright, firefly,” She reassured, the nickname she had given him ever so long ago rolling easily off of her tongue, “I won’t let him take you back, this is my domain after all. Though you can’t stay here too long, dear, you aren’t made to live here.”
That- that made Tommy practically sink into her arms with relief at knowing he wouldn’t have to see him again. Though, tears welled in his eyes at the thought of departing with her once again, “Really? Where will I go?”
“Yes, really,” Her face held a warm smile as she spoke, “The only place you’ll be safe on is a whitelist server but I’ve had an assistant check it out, and the Admin there won’t harm you.”
“Pinky promise?” He said, weakly holding out his pinky towards her, ignoring how childish it was.
“Pinky promise,” She replied, locking her pinky with his - albeit carefully. While her domain eased the pain, it didn’t make it go away completely. Her pinky was quite large compared to Tommy’s - which was swollen and broken from his recent.. Experience.
“Keep this safe for me, will you?” She said, placing an earring onto his ear. It dangled slightly, a small feather hanging off of it, “It’ll keep you safe.”
“Thank you, ma,” Tommy muttered, a small grin on his face as he felt his consciousness fade away once more, a dark mist enveloping him.
[TommyInnit joined the game.]