Archive of Our Own

"Don't be ridiculous. We're soulmates, Tommy."

Sandy blond hair. Acid green eyes. The impression of a gentle hand ruffling his hair with a fondness that always felt a little too clinical for his liking.

"Why would soulmates hurt each other? Are you trying to say I'm a bad soulmate, Tommy?"

For a long time now, there was a hollowness in the place where Tommy’s heart used to be. It was a wound that was constantly raw, and aching, and impossible for him to ignore. Every day, Tommy would wake up, and the first thing he always felt was empty. Every day, he would prod at the area that was supposed to be occupied by another person, by his soulmate, and have to feel it rotting beneath his touch. Nothing was left of it except a husk of a bond and the lingering band of acid green wrapped around his left wrist, glowing dully despite its lack of another person to connect him to.

Every day, Tommy would put on his gloves to hide it. To hide his shame from the world. To hide the truth that he wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn’t perfect enough-

No. No. That was false. He needed to remember that. Those were lies told to him by a man he trusted, because who wouldn't trust their soulmate? Who wouldn’t trust their supposed other half, hand-picked by fate and meant to compliment them in every way, shape, and form? Who wouldn't trust the person that was destined to be their best friend, their brother?

The bitter, actual truth was that Dream was a coward who craved power, and in the end, Tommy had been forced to choose: His soulmate, or his life?

"What does it feel like?" He finds himself asking one day, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich he’s holding while resting idly alongside Tubbo and Ranboo on their usual school yard bench.

Ranboo made a questioning hum between obnoxiously loud crunches as he worked to finish off a bag of tiny cookies, split black and white enderian jaws snapping unforgivingly around the sweets. Tubbo, after downing a particularly long swig of water, flicks one of his goat-like ears in his direction and promptly responds with his own question.

"What, the soulmate thing?" Tubbo looks at him curiously, bottle rattling in his hands as he haphazardly screws the cap back onto it.

Tommy nods, subtly sneaking a glance at Tubbo and Ranboo's bands. They both only had a single soulbond- one with each other -and they both bore the mark of it on their left wrist, something that fate liked to do to show certain bonds were platonic. They each have a ring of intertwined purple and forest green that glows dully even in the bright afternoon sunlight, one wrapped around pale pink skin and the other around soft white fur, and Tommy soon finds himself having to swallow down a hard lump of jealousy.

He wonders if it burns as much as his and Dream’s used to, or if that feeling was only reserved for doomed soulbonds like his own.

He hurriedly looks away and back at his sandwich, forcing himself to take another bite out of it to distract himself from the bitter thoughts swirling at the edges of his mind.

"Yeah, that whole nonsense.” He says through the mouthful of bread, jam, and peanut butter. “Is it... It's good, yeah? It doesn't hurt you or anything?"

Tubbo’s confusion deepens, forehead creasing and mouth curling into something dangerously close to a frown. "No, of course not. Why would a soulmate bond hurt someone?" And, well, that was a fair question. One Tommy really, really didn’t want to have to answer. He shifted awkwardly in place on the bench as the silence stretched a bit, mulling over an answer he could offer without revealing more than he wanted, because… What if they got suspicious? What if they looked at the gloves he always wore and started putting the pieces together? Tubbo was damn well sharp enough to puzzle it out, and Ranboo was perceptive enough to read between the lines of Tommy’s words and pull the answer out of thin air.

What if this was the tipping point and they suddenly knew?

Before Tommy could really get into cursing himself for even asking, Ranboo leaned over Tubbo’s shoulder- mindful of his soulmate’s horns -to get a better look at Tommy, head tilting and bicolored eyes shining with something sad that Tommy didn’t particularly like the look of as he paused his obnoxious crunching to speak.

"Why? Are you worried that finding your soulmate could hurt you?"

And, wow, if that wasn’t immediately a little too on the nose for his liking. A small spark of panic ignited in Tommy’s gut, eyes widening and hyper aware of how he grew damingly still, but before he could even begin to form the words to defend himself, to dispel the worry, to do anything-  

"Ew, gross! Chew with your mouth closed, Ranboo!" Tubbo complained as several crumbs scattered onto his shoulder. He pulled away from his soulmate in disgust, hand already vigorously brushing the offending food specks away. "I will not put up with cookie crumb attacks from my soulmate."

Ranboo snorted as he popped another tiny cookie into his mouth. “Why is it fine when Tommy does it, but not me?” He argued playfully.

“Because Tommy isn’t spitting his food all over me!”

Ranboo rolled his eyes at the response. He did, however, lean pointedly away from Tubbo before speaking again. "If it helps, I wouldn't worry too much about it. If they're really your soulmate, it'll just feel... Right."

"Warm." Tubbo supplied, still inspecting his shoulder for lingering crumbs. "Cozy. Fuzzy. It's like a blanket gets wrapped around you, but instead of a blanket it's another person."

Ranboo nodded in agreement. "Like a soul turduckin."

Tommy had been listening intently up until that moment, mostly just thanking Prime that Ranboo hadn’t pressed the question much further, but now he promptly chokes on his spit. A fucking-

"A soul what?" He wheezed between coughs, pounding on his chest to try and clear the spit out of his windpipe faster. "A turn ducking what?"

"A turduckin! Yknow, like the dinner food?"

Tommy stared at Ranboo like he’d suddenly grown three heads. “I have no fucking idea what you’re on about, Boob boy."

"...It's like... The three birds? Two are inside of the other one?"

Tommy was suddenly choking for a very different reason. "You're telling me," Tommy gasped between breaths, now struggling to breathe around laughter as well as spit. "that three birds are-"

"BUT LIKE I WAS SAYING-” Tubbo was laughing now too, joining Tommy in his wheezing fit as Ranboo rushed to salvage the original point of the conversation, black and white fluff flaring around his neck betraying how flustered he was. “I really don’t think you need to be scared of your soulmate. It's... Natural. It happens to everyone. I'm sure whoever you end up with will be perfect for you."

‘If only you knew the half of it.’ Tommy thought sourly, slowly recovering from his coughing slash laughing slash wheezing fit. ‘Unless fate was trying to tell me I’m a massive piece of shit, Dream was anything but perfect. I’d have been better off with fuckin’ no one instead of stuck with him.’ At his side, hidden from view, he let his fingers curl into a loose fist against the leather of his fingerless glove. He focused on the feeling of the fabric, tracing the stitches and memorizing the texture to distract himself from the bitterness that surged through him anew at Ranboo’s words. It wasn’t Ranboo’s fault- it wasn’t anyone’s fault, except maybe Dream’s, or fate’s -that he was like this. He wasn’t sure what kind of written-in-the-stars bullshit had led him to have Dream as a soulmate, but he would be cursing it forever.

Cursing it and his stupid wish to have, to understand, what a real, proper soulmate bond was like.

It was never going to happen. He needed stop thinking about it.

Ranboo was still waiting for an answer. Tommy cleared his throat one last time before doing his best to muster up some of his earlier energy. He tried to picture the turducken bullshit that had to be fake, but was like all the humor had been sucked out of him in half a second, and he hated it. He hated how obvious it felt. He didn’t want either of his friends worrying and putting any more pieces together than necessary. With as much enthusiasm as he can manage, he flashes a feral grin, spaded tail flicking with faux mirth. “I want to talk more about the three birds on the dinner table having-”

“That’s not what a turducken is!” Ranboo wailed, pulling a renewed burst of laughter from Tubbo.

Tommy and Ranboo spent the rest of the lunch period arguing about what a turducken was. Tommy had several choice arguments that he put as much fiery passion into as possible, much to the dismay of Ranboo and the utter bemusement of Tubbo. By the time the bell rang and the lunch period ended, Tommy realizes he’d never finished his sandwich.

He stares down at the partially eaten pb&j, feeling his stomach churn before decidedly chucking it into the trash. He wasn't hungry anymore.

“Tommy, why you were late getting back today?”

“I’m sorry Dream, I was just-”

The click of a tongue silenced him immediately.

“I gave you curfew to protect you, Tommy. The city is dangerous, and I can keep an eye on you better at home. I can keep you safe at home. We’re supposed to be brothers, right?”

A moment of silence passed before Tommy realized Dream was waiting for an answer. He gave a slow nod of his head, eyes glued to the ground by Dream’s feet. Yes, of course they were supposed to be brothers- or at the very least best friends. They had the soulmate marks wrapping around their left wrists to prove it.

“Right. We’re supposed to be brothers, and it’s rude to disobey your family, Tommy.”

A hand in his hair, always in his hair. Tommy swore the ruffles grew harsher each time, but he’d never give voice to the thought. It would only make Dream angrier if he did.

“Be home on time tomorrow.”

“Yes, Dream.”

"Tech-no-blade, can I ask you a question?"

Techno huffs a dry laugh from his worn leather armchair, eyes flicking up from the pages of one of the massive, dusty mythology books that Tommy liked to make fun of him for. "Technically, you've already asked one."

Tommy elected to ignore this. He didn't even grace it with an eye roll. A joke so basic wasn’t even worth his time. "What does your bond with Phil feel like?"

"Our bond?" A crease appears between Techno's eyebrows, a few confused piglin chuffs quick to follow. "What, our soulmate bond? Why? Did somethin' happen?"

"No." Yes, but nothing you should know about. Nothing I'd ever want you to know about. "I was just... Wondering. I guess." He fidgets a bit, leaning against the doorframe and toeing at the edge of the plush white rug that lived in the center of Techno's floor. His brother had strangely expensive taste, his room filled to the brim with carved wooden bookshelves fit to bursting with gardening books, history books, books on mythology- you name it. If it was something long and boring and fit to be a textbook for a college class, Techno probably had it.

Tommy’s eyes drift to his brother, trying to get a better read on what he was thinking about the question. A familiar anxiety crept up his spine, despite his best attempts to shoo it away, and any inkling of what the older was feeling would be helpful in soothing it.

Techno looked perfectly casual, dressed in a faded grey shirt and jeans with his bubblegun pink hair pulled up and out of his face. Small, square reading glasses were perched on his nose, shining dully in the light alongside his small white tusks. His posture was slightly stiff, crease still between his brow, but otherwise his expression betrays nothing. Also, because Techno had made it his life's goal to torture Tommy, he stays quiet. Waiting. Listening. Dark red eyes boring into him.

Tommy sighs, shoulders slumping as he resigns himself to the lie he'd prepared earlier for this exact scenario. "Did you know that most people find their soulmate by the time they're fifteen?"

Techno grunts with understanding, tucking a bookmark between thin yellow pages and closing the book with a gentle snap. "You worried you won’t find yours?"

"...I guess." That could technically be true. Does it count if he already had one and lost them? If he was selfish enough to wish for another? He toes the rug a bit more harshly, watching as a corner of it peeled away from the hardwood beneath it with a very satisfying scrrch noise.

Techno, completely unbothered by this rug abuse, hums quietly to himself as he considered his brother for a few agonizingly long moments. Tommy is beginning to feel remarkably like a shaken soda can by the time he finally speaks. "...Alright. Get in here and sit down, and I'll tell you a story."

Tommy immediately perks at that, letting the corner of rug fall back into place with a loud TWACK that makes Techno grimace.

"What's the story about?" Tommy asks, anxiety immediately shoved to the back of his mind in favor of excitement for a new story from Techno. He’s already halfway across the room, making a beeline for Techno's comfortable beanbag chair. It was an ugly brown thing that clashed horribly with the rest of the room, but Techno kept it around because Tommy liked it and would pitch a fit every time he talked about throwing it away. "Does it have any monsters or cool heroes in it?"

"Depends on what your definition of a 'cool hero' is." Techno answers, watching as Tommy took great delight in throwing himself into the beanbag chair, sinking and twisting around in it until he was perfectly comfortable. "It's a story about a priestess named Hero and a guy named Leander. They lived in neighborin’ cities on opposite sides of a river and fell in love one day when they saw each other at a festival.”

Tommy frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave Techno a look. “Is this a sappy love story?”

“If you let me tell it maybe you’ll find out instead of needin’ to ask questions.”

Tommy pouts but stays silent after that.

“Hero, a priestess to a well-known deity, was forbidden from bein’ in a relationship because of her status. Leander was just an ordinary guy with no power to change anything, other than to encourage his love to risk everything for him. Moved, she agreed, and they began schemin’ on how to keep their love private from everyone. Eventually, in order to be together, Leander promised to swim across the river that divided their cities every night to see Hero, as long as Hero agreed to light a torch from the top of her tower to guide him across the dangerous water.”

Techno pauses for a breath. Tommy, despite his complaining, is listening with rapt attention. He wants to know what happens next.

“Every night Hero thought it was safe to cross, she would light a torch to guide Leander across the river. Every night she lit a torch, he would come, and they would spend the night together enjoying each other’s company. They spent several nights together like this, before agreeing to part ways in the face of the changin’ seasons, since the weather would be cold and brutally stormy for the next several months.”

“Still, one stormy winter night, Leander saw the torch glowing at the top of the tower. Refusing to ignore Hero’s signal, he dove into the ragin’ water and tried to swim across, but halfway through the trip the wind blew out Hero’s torch and left him struggling in darkness.”

Tommy waits for several long moments, but Techno stayed silent. He shifts to lean towards his brother curiously, gradually growing too impatient to keep quiet any longer.

"So, what happens to them in the end? After the torch stuff?"

Techno sighs, like he already expects the reaction to the news he's about to deliver. "Leander drowns and Hero dives into the water after him. They both die and are buried together."

Tommy recoils, nose scrunching up in distaste. "Well, that's shit. You told me a love story about people that die tragically to try and cheer me up?"

Techno, to his credit, does look a bit guilty, but still tries to defend himself. "The point is that they never stopped tryin’ to be together, and always found each other despite the odds, even in death."

"'Cept for the time they drowned."

"Except for the one time that they drowned, yes."

Tommy looks away, tail flicking glumly. He always loved Techno's stories, but this one had just left him even more uncomfortably aware of the gaping hole in his chest than usual. Two lovers, determined to be together in spite of their circumstances- in spite of their fate -had died for trying.

Was that doomed to be his fate, too? Tommy knows, rationally, that hoping for another soulmate is probably stupid- mostly people only ever got one -but... There was always that glimmer of hope. That tiny ember of warmth that he used to sooth himself in the dead of night, when loneliness gnawed at him like a feral thing and his broken soulbond thrummed, empty, into the silence of his bedroom.

"The moral of the story is to keep looking for the light, Tommy." He glances up to see Techno still watching him, warmth and concern swirling in his brother’s dark red eyes. "There's someone waiting for you on the other side of that river. You just have to keep swimming to get to them."

'Not if I already crossed the river. Not if that person already shoved me back into the water to watch me struggle as soon as I got there.'

The rug suddenly becomes very interesting again. Tommy pokes at it with renewed vigor as he internally sighs, trying to take some kind of solace in the myth he knew Techno was probably very fond of, likely held very close to his heart, but still decided to share with Tommy during his low point because he cared. He cared, and he wanted Tommy to know that, and feel comforted by his words. Tommy appreciated it, he really did, just...

"I guess." He acquiesced, another tail flick betraying his uncertainty. "...Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Anytime." Techno reaches over to pat his shoulder with a small smile before standing, pushing himself up and out of his chair with a stretch and a groan.

"Smells like Phil is done cooking dinner downstairs. You comin’?"

Tommy did come to dinner. He ate the spaghetti and meatballs Phil made with a smile and as much of his usual energy as he could muster, but it was hard to ignore how the food tasted like ash on his tongue and settled like a stone in his stomach.

“Have you ever thought about what you would look like without horns, Tommy?”

Tommy jerks upright from where he’d been sitting at the table, eating a cold dinner of leftover noodles in the uneasy silence of the kitchen. He hadn’t heard Dream enter the room. The figure of his soulmate looms in the doorway, partially enshrouded in shadow.

“Not really.” He answers, voice quiet and feeling small.

“Maybe you should start. I think getting rid of those ugly red spikes would be a great look for you.”

Phil's office greets him like an old friend as Tommy peers into it. The familiar walls, the warm lighting, the smell of paper and ink, and the sight of the biggest man himself- Phil Craft -sitting at his massive wooden desk with an easy smile on his face always settled something deep in Tommy’s bones.

"Hi mate. Did you need something?" Phil's wings are resting comfortably on either side of him in a bundle of soft black feathers, the delicate fabric of Phil’s green and black cloak pooling around them gracefully. Straw-blond hair was tucked behind his ears and out of his face, though a few rebellious strands still drifted lazily around his cheeks. His blue eyes never strayed from Tommy as he spoke, but he still managed to dip a curved claw into an inkpot with practiced perfection to continue scratching notes onto the paper in front of him. ‘It's a lot easier for me than pens.’ He'd explained once, showing Tommy how difficult it was for him to write with a regular pencil without clipping his talons short.

That had been a nice conversation. Then again, conversations with Phil were usually nice. He just had that sort of air about him.

Tommy stepped fully into the room, letting the edge of his spaded tail hook around the doorknob to pull the door shut behind him. He debates if this is a question he really wants to ask Phil, but pushes out the words before his anxiety can get the better of him. He’s come this far, he may as well go through with it now. "What do your soul bonds feel like?"

Phil blinked, smile wavering the slightest bit as he took in the question, then Tommy's current state. Tommy could already picture how he looked to him- a bit too quiet, a bit too twitchy, wearing the soft red shirt he always wore when he needed a bit of extra comfort -and just prayed that Phil would come to the easiest conclusion. That he wouldn't look for anything else. Please, Phil, don't look for anything else.

Phil took a breath, wiping his inky talon off on the stained cloth that sat near the inkpot, and delicately traced one of the two glowing soul bands on his wrists. One pink on the left wrist, the other purple on the right, both braided with a pretty emerald green.

"Your seventeenth birthday is coming up soon." Phil noted, gaze flicking back to settle on Tommy.

Tommy did his best to hide the overwhelming wave of relief that swept over him. Thank everything that's ever existed, Phil didn't think about it. The idea that Tommy could have already had a soulmate wasn't even a notion in his mind. Thank the heavens, thank the earth, thank fate itself, for all Tommy cared. Even if it was an insane reach, Tommy would always worry. Broken soulbonds were the highest mark of shame. They were something that often kept people out of jobs and living on streets because society had decided that, if a person had denounced fate, then society would denounce them.

It was a stupid, ancient way of thinking, but soulbonds ruled over the world with an iron fist. It was something Tommy always needed to be aware of. It was why he always wore gloves. It was what made this new habit of asking people about their soulbonds so idiotic and dangerous, but he wanted to know. He so, so desperately wanted some kind of warm idea of what a soulbond should feel like to cling to, to comfort himself with. To reassure himself that, yes, he’d made the right choice all those years ago. To confirm that, yes, his soulbond with Dream hadn’t been normal.

Phil had been like more of a father to him than anyone else in his life. Tommy looked up to him as a figure worthy of respect and a person that would always offer him support. Of all the people in his life, Tommy was the most terrified of Phil being the one to figure it out.

Because then he had to face the possibility that Phil could hate him, too.

"Yeah, just a few months now." He confirmed, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet and letting his tail swing idly to try and get rid of some of his anxious energy. "I've just fuckin... I dunno. Been thinking about it, I guess."

Phil hummed with understanding, shifting a wing to gesture towards one of the soft green chairs he kept in his office specifically for his sons. Tommy padded over and settled into it immediately, running a hand over the velvety fabric to ground himself. He already knew this would probably be a long conversation.

"You know how sometimes your instincts will make you feel comfortable and safe around me and Techno?" Tommy nods, cringing a bit at the many, many memories of clinging to his family like a small child whenever his instincts got the better of him. Phil laughs at the look on his face before continuing, ignoring the light scowl Tommy shoots him in protest. "It's a bit like that. A soulbond has that same feeling of warmth, comfort, and safety, but instead of getting lost in it it's more like it... Sharpens your mind. At least, that's what it's like for Techno and me."

Phil smiles fondly, but his eyes are a bit sad as he looks at Tommy. And Tommy doesn't say a fucking word. They'd already had a long conversation about the awkwardness surrounding the fact that Techno and Phil had a soul connection while Phil and Tommy (and, subsequently, Tommy and Techno) did not. It was something he'd already made peace with, though the subject still stung like a slap to the face when it was brought up.

But it was fine. It wasn't what he wanted to talk about right now. Not really, anyways.

Phil seemed to be able to tell, because after a moment of silence he started speaking again.

"With Kristin, it felt a bit different. Like Techno's, our bond also made my mind feel sharper, but less like I was preparing for a battle and more like… It drew my eye to the small things so we could appreciate them together. Colors, flowers, sunny days, and rainy nights... They were always fun with her. Always enjoyable. Our bond felt like a piece of life itself had been gifted to me."

Seeing Phil smile, sharing such precious memories, warmed Tommy to the core as much as it also made him curdle with jealousy. He looks away, struggling to keep the bitterness from showing on his face.

That was that, then.

Tubbo, Ranboo, and Phil... Their soulbonds sounded so nice. So pleasant. So precious and irreplaceable.

And the truth was... Tommy had never felt that way with Dream.

His bond with Dream had been electric, like hot lightning was filling him fit to bursting every time they spent time together. They laughed, they hung out, they played games, and there was always an air of competitiveness, of rivalry between them.

But there had never been any comfort. No warmth, no feeling of safety, just... Energy matching energy. A constant push and pull. A fight that Tommy used to think was friendly, used to think was familiar and brotherly, until...

Until...

His mark burns traitorously beneath his gloves. Idly, he wonders if Dream also hides the bright red band around his wrist, damningly monotone with no other color threaded through it, as much as Tommy does. Tommy wonders if Dream even cares.

He traces patterns into the fabric of the chair, surprised that the revelation, the confirmation of what he’d already suspected- wanted to hear, even -doesn’t make him feel better. He’d expected some kind of elation, some sort of joy, or at least relief to flood him with the knowledge that his and Dream’s bond hadn’t been normal. That it was unhealthy.

Instead, he just feels… Cold. Empty. Alone.

With a slight start, Tommy realizes Phil has been talking the entire time he's been thinking. He's saying something about how all soulbonds take time, and it'll happen when it happens, but Tommy has heard enough of that from everyone else that it just serves to make him feel more exhausted.

"Thanks, Phil." Tommy interrupts, promptly pushing himself out of the chair to leave the room. Phil's confusion behind him is palpable, the man immediately falling quiet and the sound of feathers ruffling filling the silence as he straightens to watch Tommy go.

Tommy prays he doesn't call him back over. He doesn't want him to. He regrets asking so many people this stupid, dangerous question and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. He doesn’t want to think about it ever again. Blessedly, Phil lets him leave, silent as Tommy opens the door, slips through, and pulls it shut again, just like he'd done when he'd entered. Like he could’ve never been there to begin with.

“I’m sorry, Dream!”

“Well ‘sorry’ isn’t good enough, Tommy! I need to make sure you fucking remember what you did wrong this time.”

A hand in his hair, always in his hair. A voice screaming- was that his own voice? Blinding, searing pain in his skull. The worst pain he’s ever felt. The worst pain he thinks he’ll ever feel.

A deafening snap.

Two chunks of red fall to the ground in a spray of blood. Something warm is soaking Tommy’s hair, dripping down to pool on the tile. Pain, pain, so much pain.

He thinks he’s shoved to the ground, or maybe he just fell there all on his own. The scent of copper chokes him. Red is all he can see. By the time he can form coherent thoughts again, Dream is gone, and so are his horns.

Tommy stops looking in mirrors after that.

What happens later is an accident. An event of complete chance. A misstep- or maybe a curse, fate had never been particularly kind to him -of the ages. All Tommy knows is he's in class talking to Tubbo, gesturing wildly with his hands as he loses himself in a dramatic retelling of a story, when suddenly the strap on his left glove comes loose and, with one grand gesture, the glove is unceremoniously flung across the room.

And suddenly, his wrist is damningly, horribly bare, with his acid green, monocolor soulmark visible for all to see.

Tommy could pinpoint the exact moment his heart stopped. He could recount with painful detail how long it took for the room to go quiet, and the exact second he felt Tubbo still beside him. He could hear Ranboo's smallest gasp, and the quiet click of their teacher's pencil being dropped onto her desk.

He could time it and tell you that his life was ruined before his eyes in less than two minutes flat, though it felt like 2 years as he sat, shaking, breathing coming in short, sporadic gasps as he thought this is it, this is when I lose everything, over and over and over again.

The principle calls him into her office. Phil is notified. He doesn't get to see Tubbo or Ranboo again before Phil takes him home. He assumes they must hate him now, or at least think very poorly of him. After all, broken soulbonds were rare, extremely rare. It was a mark of the highest failure, something that showed the world that you'd found the person meant to be your perfect match and ruined it somehow. It was a mark that meant you were awful and wretched and useless.

Phil is quiet for the first half of the ride back.

Tommy is staring out the window, counting the number of cows in the field they’re passing to distract himself, when Phil finally speaks.

"Techno told me you'd also asked him about soulbonds. Is this... Is this why?"

Tommy tries to swallow around the lump in his throat so he can speak. He fails, so he settles for a silent nod.

Phil sighs with all the disappointment of a parent wondering where they'd gone wrong. Tommy is very familiar with this type of sigh. He does his best to disguise a wince- he doesn't want Phil to know how much it stings to hear it from him.

"I'm not upset with you, Tommy."

…It looks like he didn't hide it well enough. His tail flicks anxiously.

"I'm upset with myself. I'm wondering what I could’ve done to make you feel like you couldn't share this with us." There’s the subtle sound of shifting fabric as Phil turns to glance at him. Tommy stares resolutely out the window.

"...You don't hate me?" The words are quiet, shaky. Tommy barely recognizes them as his own. He still can't make himself look at Phil, already feeling tears burn his eyes at even the thought. He couldn't stand it- the idea of looking over at the person he considered his father and seeing disgust or hatred would break him beyond repair. He’s seen it once with his blood parents, seen it again with Dream. He couldn't go through this again, he couldn't.

Phil makes a wounded noise from beside him. "Mate, of course not. I'm confused, but I could never hate you. Especially not over something so obviously painful."

Painful. Painful. It was painful. Every fucking day, he would wake up, and it would hurt, and he would use the rest of the day to distract himself from the ache of it deep in his mind and beneath the glowing band around his wrist. He still wasn't sure why it'd been different lately, why he's been poking a sleeping dragon, why he'd been tempting fate. He had thought he’d wanted answers, or something to comfort himself with, or maybe just to understand, but maybe all this time he'd just been...

"I'm so tired, dad. I'm tired of hiding it." His voice cracks, wet and broken. Tears roll down his face that he struggles in vain to wipe away with the sleeve of his shirt.

A wing drops over his back, warm and comforting and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

"Then tell me about it." Phil says it like it's easy, like it's obvious. Like the very notion of talking about the worst thing in his life doesn’t rock Tommy’s entire world. "Let me help, however you want me to. You don't have to keep shouldering this alone."

That’s enough to the dam to crack, sobs spilling from his lips even as he grits his teeth and tries to swallow them. He cries for the rest of the car ride, and by the time they get home he feels even more hollowed out and empty than he's felt in a long, long time.

But, to his great shock, he also feels... Better.

The night is cold when Tommy decides to run. He shoves his meager belongings into his dirty red backpack, and he checks for the thousandth time that Dream was really, truly asleep.

Deep, even breaths break the cold silence of Dream’s room.

Tommy doesn’t let himself think until he’s out the window and down the street, using stolen money to buy a bus ticket to anywhere other than here.

He doesn’t let himself cry until he’s halfway across the country, when he shatters the bond to his soulmate and prays that Dream will never, ever be able to find him again.

Phil has decided Tommy needs therapy, and that it’s nonnegotiable. The normal, contrary Tommy would have argued. The normal, bitter and secretive Tommy would have fought against the idea with everything he had. However, this Tommy couldn't manage to feel anything but tired, so he agrees without a word and Phil makes him an appointment for next week.

When Techno gets home, he seems… Devastated. It makes the pit in Tommy’s stomach yawn wider, seeing his brother in such a state. There was a nagging whisper that it was his fault, his fault, his fault looping in his mind that he couldn’t manage to shoo away, the image of Techno’s hunched form in the doorway burning itself into his mind. It was like every ounce of fight had been drained out of him, leaving nothing but a husk behind. Tommy chews over the memory of it as he sits slumped on the couch, staring at the ceiling while his thoughts circled him like starving vultures.

Tommy is startled out of said thoughts by Techno sitting down next to him with a sigh, fluffy pink tail settling gently over Tommy’s bright red spaded one. His brother pulls off his glasses to rub at his eyes with a hand, setting them on the table next to the ice-cold glass of water Phil had brought Tommy a while ago. A small puddle of condensation surrounds the cup, inching dangerously close to the golden frame of the glasses, but Techno doesn’t seem to care.

Tommy has to blink for a moment, slow to process his brother sitting next to him, still looking weirdly tired and fragile in a way that makes his skin crawl. Techno should never look fragile. Glancing down at their tails, he flicks his up and over Techno’s in a half loop, effectively intertwining them. It was an action a bit like holding hands without really holding hands. A sign of offered comfort within their respective hybrid cultures.

Techno’s eyes flick to their tails with a fond chuff before he speaks.

“What have I told you about the hero Hercules?”

“Like-” Tommy pauses to cough, throat still parched and raw from crying earlier. Techno immediately passes him the cup of water from the table, which Tommy accepts gratefully, even if he grimaces slightly when the condensation drips onto his jeans.

“Like the guy from the Disney movie?” He asks after a few sips, voice still rough despite being soothed by the water.

“Not exactly.” Techno explains, gazing at the wall as he chewed over whatever he was thinking about. “For starters, his actual name is Heracles.”

“It is?” Tommy takes another sip of water, stares at the ceiling again as he processes this information. “Doesn’t sound as cool as Hercules.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The ‘hurk’ part sounds like he’s lifting something. ‘S more fitting.”

Techno let out a startled snort at that. Success. Tommy had been hoping to make his brother feel better with that one. At least one of them shouldn’t be feeling like complete and utter shit right now, although…

“…Did they hate Heracles, too?”

Some of the mirth left Techno’s face, which Tommy hated, but… He needed to know. He needed an answer to his unspoken, actual question.

‘Do you hate me?’

Techno took an agonizingly long moment to respond.

“…Y’know, I think I’ll save Heracles for another day. Instead, how about I tell you the story of Theseus?”

Tommy felt his forehead crease in confusion, tail flicking questioningly from where his and Techno’s were intertwined. “Who’s Thesus?”

“Theseus,” Techno corrected gently, “was someone who was exiled despite doing the right thing.”

Tommy was quiet.

“In Theseus’ story, he found a way to travel through a labyrinth that housed a fearsome creature, a Minotaur, that was responsible for the deaths of many innocent people. He slayed the beast, became a king, and lead his kingdom into a period of prosperity.”

Techno was looking at him strangely, something fond and sad in his expression as he paused, seemingly waiting. Tommy felt like there had to be some kind of a catch to this. “…But?”

“But, one day, one of the nobles started whisperin’ to people and turning the city against Theseus. Despite all the good he had done, they exiled him.”

“Oh.” Oh. So, that was it, then. Were they… Going to kick him out of the house? Out of the family? Tommy felt a wave of freezing cold dread at the thought.

Techno must’ve seen the panic in his expression, because he rushed to continue before Tommy could spiral too far. “Do you think Theseus did a bad thing, by slaying the minotaur?”

“…No?”

“Do you think it was right for the people to exile him?”

“No. That was shit.”

Techno was giving him a look, still looking like he was waiting for… Oh.

“You’re not going to kick me out.” Tommy felt lightheaded. This conversation had been a rollercoaster, his exhausted mind twisting and turning over itself to keep up with everything.

“And we don’t hate you, either.” Techno paused, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “Tommy… I’m sorry you had to face your own Minotaur. Alone. That’s not somethin’ that ever should’ve happened to you.”

Tommy felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs again. His heart performed a brief and impressive staccato in his chest. Did Techno-? But how could-? He wheezed in enough air to speak. “How did you-”

“It was just a guess. Something like that…” Techno made a sound Tommy wasn’t familiar with. It was something primal and distinctly piglin, full of pain and rage that scared him as much as it made him feel safe at Techno’s side. “You don’t ever have to talk about it, but I’m here for you. So is Phil. So are your friends. They haven’t stopped textin’ you for hours, you know.”

Tommy didn’t know. He’d purposefully left his phone on the kitchen table to avoid seeing an empty screen void of messages, or worse- a screen full of messages where his friends declared their undying hatred of him and how they never wanted to see him again. He isn’t sure which version would hurt more, honestly.

“Talk to them.” Techno’s eyes were serious, posture stiff and protective. “If they have anythin’ bad to say, let me know. Immediately.”

Tommy gets the distinct impression that there could be a very dead Tubbo and Ranboo in the near future if they were assholes about this. He can’t decide if the thought comforts him or horrifies him more.

There are enough messages to make his phone stall when he tries to unlock it later, but despite Techno’s words, he can’t bring himself to read any of them. Instead, he opens the group chat and sends a grand total of two messages before turning his phone off entirely and going to bed.

TOMMY: lets talk at the park tomorrow

TOMMY: 4pm

The weather is warm and the air is choked with the scent of fresh blooming flowers when Tommy arrives at the park the next day, settling into his usual spot on one of the swings by the bright yellow slide as he scowls at the sickly sweetness of the afternoon.

It really was a perfect day. The sky was cloudless, and the sun was shining brightly. Butterflies were fluttering, and birds were singing softly from their places in the surrounding trees. It was practically picturesque; something you’d only see in a movie, or maybe a painting.

Tommy hates the fact that he has to ruin it for his two best friends.

“Tommy!” Speak of the devil. Tommy jerks around just in time for Tubbo to full body tackle him off the swing, sending them both careening into the ground with two very loud grunts of pain. Tommy cringes at the feeling of wood chips digging into the skin of his leg- that was not going to be fun to deal with later.

“You asshole!” Right. Woodchip worries could wait. Right now, there was a very loud, very angry Tubbo crushing his ribs and crowding his personal space, eyes alight with a fury fit to send gods running for their mothers like scared little children. Tommy leaned away, thoroughly cowed, pressing himself just a bit further into the ground in some vague attempt to escape.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a soulmate?” Tubbo shouted, voice wet and thick with emotion as he glared down at Tommy, hands squeezing around his shoulders in a bone-crushing grip.

“Tubbo!” Ranboo cried as he finally caught up to them, huffing and puffing through asthmatic lungs. “I thought we agreed-” A pause as Ranboo stumbled to lean against the swingset, gasping for air “-that attacking him was going to be a last resort.”

“Plans can change.”

“Why?”

Tubbo didn’t respond to that. Instead, he lets go of Tommy and crosses his arms, leaning away and finally giving Tommy some space, as he waits for Tommy to start talking. “Well?”

Words are difficult and Tommy desperately wishes they weren’t, right at this moment. Several emotions are eating at him at once, and it’s difficult to sift through them and try to explain the heart of the issue. “It’s-” He started, paused, tried to rephrase. “I didn’t- It’s not like I wanted to-” None of this felt right. The pit in Tommy’s gut is wide and empty as always, sucking away his energy like a black hole as he stared up at his two best friends in the whole world and tried not to feel horribly, overwhelmingly afraid.

Afraid of their anger. Afraid of their hatred. Afraid of losing them.

He buries his face in his hands and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He couldn’t look at them while he explained this. If they rejected him, the sight of their disgusted sneers would put him into an early grave right then and there.

“What would you have done?” He finally asks, feeling the weight of the world sit heavy on his shoulders as the words drop from his mouth like stones. “A broken soulbond, it’s- Tubbo you know what that means. Ranboo, so do you. Everyone and their mother in this whole fuckin’ city knows what that means. I was scared. I didn’t-” His voice breaks so he pauses. Inhale, exhale. Try again. “I didn’t want to lose you guys.”

Tubbo and Ranboo are painfully silent for a long stretch of time, so Tommy risks a peek at them through his fingers.

Tubbo looks constipated, eyes glimmering with a wetness that tells Tommy he’s definitely trying to hold back tears. Ranboo isn't much better off, staring at Tommy like he was one of those starving, homeless puppies from the depressing call-to-action commercials. It prods uncomfortably at something long buried building in the back of his mind that still often snarls at the idea of pity, making his skin crawl and face pinch awkwardly, but-

But it wasn’t anger. Or hatred. They weren’t pelting him with rocks and telling him to go die in a ditch. This wasn’t rejection.

Some of the tension left his shoulders with the wave relief the realization brought him, but he was still hesitant to believe it. The conversation wasn’t over yet. He had to be sure.

“Tommy, you could never lose us.” Ranboo says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Did you think we would hate you for it?” Tubbo asks, most of his earlier anger suddenly absent.

And, Tommy can’t help it, because what kind of question was that?

“Yes!” He bursts, letting his hands drop from his face to scowl bitterly at the sky. The stupid, beautiful cloudless sky with it’s stupid, brightly shining sun. “My whole life, everything I’ve ever heard about has been about soulmates. How great they are, how amazing they are, how they make the world turn and life worth living and everything so fucking amazing. And mine sucked. He was horrible, so horrible I had to break our bond and accept that I would be even more of a stupid social outcast than I already was, because soulmates are everything!”

Tommy didn’t realize he’d started crying until he tasted the bitter salt of tears on his tongue and had to wipe them away. “Soulmates are everything, and anyone without a soulmate is just… Useless. Broken. Not worth the fuckin’ time of day. So, I’m sorry.” He glared at Tubbo without any heat, but it still made his friend flinch. “I’m sorry I was scared to tell you. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry for being a fuckup in more ways that you expected, or whatever else I’m supposed to say now. I’m sorry.”

He heaved a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as more tears began to flow. When he opened them again, he stared resolutely at the ground, afraid to see his friends’ reactions. Still afraid. Always afraid.

“You’re an idiot if you think we’d hate you for something like this.” Tubbo said, sniffling loudly. He was absolutely crying, now. Tommy doesn’t respond. He can’t, because even though he knows he should agree, knows that he should think his friends weren’t that shallow, he… Can’t. He can’t bring himself to say the worries were unfounded, because they had been such a constant in his life for so long at this point that it just felt impossible. Impossible to imagine a scenario where this couldn’t have the ability to ruin his life.

So instead, he lets the silence stretch, the sound of the birds singing the only thing to break the tension between the three.

“Did you know one of my moms has a broken soulbond?” Ranboo asks, daring to break the quiet.

“…She does?” Now that surprised Tommy. He thought the majority of other people with bonds like his were, like… Criminals and wronguns. People forced out of a job and made to live in the street until they grew old and died, cold and alone. Not regular, accepted, normal people like one of Ranboo’s moms.

Ranboo laughed without any humor. “Yeah, she’s talked about it before. Apparently her first soulmate was this one guy that didn’t like that she was poly and bi, so he started hitting her. She left the day she saw him grab a knife.”

Tommy finally looked up, blinking away the remaining tears that gathers on his lashes to take in the bitter smile on Ranboo’s face. “That’s awful.” He choked out with a bit too much understanding, voice heavy with it in a way that a purely sympathetic person’s voice would never be. Ranboo didn’t comment on it, just nodded.

“Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if she hadn’t left. If I even would have a home right now.” Ranboo’s tone is low, mournful. His tail sways in thought, getting a faraway look in his eyes for the briefest moment before blinking and looking back to Tommy. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Tommy.” He offered another smile, one more bittersweet than the last. “I’m glad you escaped, and we became friends. I’m glad you didn’t stay somewhere you weren’t safe just because fate said you should.”

“Fate can go kick rocks.” Tubbo spoke up from where he’d been discreetly wiping his face. He also did his best to offer Tommy a smile, but it fell a bit flatter than Ranboo’s. “From now on, I don’t care what fate says. You’re my soulmate just as much as Ranboo, for all I care.”

Ranboo made a surprised noise but didn’t disagree. Instead, much to Tommy’s shock, he was nodding.

“Another soulmate.” Ranboo tested the words thoughtfully. “I like that.”

Tommy’s eyes could’ve been a facet with how many tears were suddenly pouring out of them. He could practically already feel the oncoming headache from dehydration, but he didn’t give a single flying fuck because his friends didn’t hate him. In fact, they even considered him their other soulmate.

Tommy was beyond words. Words couldn’t ever hope to capture how much his heart swelled with relief and appreciation and care for his two best friends. So, instead of speaking, he just launched himself at them, drawing surprised shouts from them both as they all crumpled into a pile on the ground together in the world’s most uncomfortable hug.

The memory of that day would always sit near Tommy’s heart, warming him forever.

“I tried the journaling thing.”

Sam looked up from his clipboard, eyes wide with barely hidden surprise. “Did it help?”

Tommy sank a bit deeper into the plush couch, tail flicking glumly. He hated it when the stupid things Sam suggested turned out to actually work. “Yes.”

“Oh. Good! I’m glad to hear that, Tommy. Was there anything that you journaled in particular that you wanted to share with me today?”

“…I think I finally understand why Dream was my soulmate.”

Sam’s pen clicked. Tommy tried to ignore the sound of it scratching against paper as Sam made a few notes. “Do you want to share that reason with me?”

“Sure, I guess.” He needed to talk about it. It had been sitting heavily on his mind since he’d figured it out. “I think it was because we both wanted family.”

“Family?”

Tommy nodded. “Family. We both grew up as demon hybrids with shit parents and no siblings, and when we first met, it was like something just clicked, you know? But fate was fuckin’ wrong, because I was the only one that still wanted family by the end of it, while Dream…”

Sam waited patiently for him to finish, the sound of the ticking clock the only thing to break the quiet of the office as Tommy worked to get the words out.

“Dream stopped caring about family, and decided he just wanted power. And if hurting me was the easiest way to get that power, then that’s what he would do.”

It had been nearly two months since the day Tommy’s secret had been revealed to the world. Two months where he had to begin the work of undoing years of suppressed fear, hatred, and guilt, but at least he was never alone.

Every day, Tubbo and Ranboo would whisk him away for “soulmate time,” where they basically did the exact same things they always did when they hung out, just… More often. Tubbo and Ranboo also started taking turns describing their soulmate bond to Tommy in more detail, trying their best to replicate the feelings despite it being literally impossible to do. The ridiculousness of it always made Tommy laugh, and much to his own shock it never made him feel… Bitter, or sad, or alone like it used to. Maybe because this time, he could tell how genuine they were in their desire to share their bond, their feelings, their souls with him. The idea warmed him to his core like nothing else ever had, and on some days, he could swear it almost felt like something inside of him sparked when he was near them.

“Do you ever wonder if you have any other soulmates, Tommy?” Ranboo asked, pausing in the middle of his flower crown.

Tommy froze, considering the question carefully.

“…No, not really, anymore.” He replied after a moment of thought, surprised at how normal he felt about the topic. A few weeks ago, the very notion of another soulmate could’ve sent him spiraling, the idea once something he secretly kept close to his chest on nights when his bond ached and hummed too loudly for him to sleep, but now he didn’t really feel anything. He supposed he just didn’t feel like it was something he needed anymore.

He already had everything he could ever want from another soulmate bond. Why would he bother wishing for it now?

“Well, I hope you do.” Tubbo crowed, flicking a flower stem at him. “I want to be one of them.”

When he wasn’t with Tubbo and Ranboo, either Techno or Phil would whisk him away to the garden, or to make soup, or to go shopping or for a walk or to visit Carl or or or-

“I’m not a child, I’m a big man! I can plate my own dinner!”

Techno snorted, spooning a serving of the boiling hot soup into a bowl as Tommy pouted. “Tell that to the stew we made last week, Theseus. I think there’s still splatters of it hidin’ underneath the kitchen cabinets.”

“It’s not my fault the pot was heavy!”

“Sure it wasn’t.” The bowl was handed to him, a fond hand landing on his shoulder soon after to steer him towards the kitchen table. “I’m just glad you didn’t get burned.”

“Phil, why do you care about the stars so much?” Tommy asked one night while they were sitting on the roof, gazing up at a spray of constellations shining like diamonds against dark obsidian. Phil thought for a moment before responding, the sound of crickets chirping filling the air around them.

“Well, some legends say that the people you love live in the heavens next to the stars, watching over you until you’re ready to join them.”

“…Do you really believe that?”

A wing against his back, soft feathers keeping away the worst of the nighttime chill. Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever felt this safe before.

“I don’t think it hurts to try.”

Small moments. Small memories. Small emotions slowly eroding the darkness that had built up in Tommy over years and years of abuse from a world that never cared about him until now. The ember of hope that Tommy once had is slowly stoked into an inferno, and he finds that the aching hole of his broken soulmate bond bothers him less and less with each passing day.

The surprise, however, comes one fateful morning, when Tommy wakes up and feels something… Different. Off, but not in a bad way, just in a way that was… Weird.

It was like he was feeling something, but also feeling four other things, just… Distantly. It was bizarre. It reminded him a lot of when-

He cracks open a sleepy eye. Around his left wrist are four new soulmate bands. One pink, one emerald, one purple, and one forest green, all intertwined with his own unmistakable red.

“PHIL!” Tommy is launching out of bed in an instant, blankets and pillows flying everywhere as he stumbles to the door, flings it open, and races down the stairs two at a time.

“DAD! TECHNO! CHECK YOU FUCKIN’ WRISTS RIGHT NOW AND TELL ME I’M NOT HALLUCINATING!”

“Good morning to you too, Theseus.” Techno greets him from the table, looking over a newspaper while he sips his cup of coffee. A small smile betrays his enthusiasm though, sleeves pulled low to display the new red and pink band around his left wrist for all the world to see. Tommy could cry right then and there.

“Good morning, Tommy. How’s my son and soulmate doing today?” Phil doesn’t even try to hide how happy he is, wings held high and smile brighter than the sun as he flips chocolate chip pancakes at the stove.

Tommy feels lighter than air, like he could float away at the smallest breeze. His eyes sting with happy tears, tail lashing behind him with joy, mind prodding at the new, healthy, alive soulmate connections and listening to them thrum in response.

“I’m not dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming.” Phil agrees, turning the stove to low to make sure the pancakes don’t burn before walking over to envelope Tommy in a hug.

“If you are, then I’m havin’ the same dream.” Techno agrees, chuffing fondly as Phil squeezed him, then pulled away, leading Tommy to the chair next to his brother. Techno wasn’t normally big on hugs, but he did make more quiet chuffs and bump his head against Tommy’s, which was basically the same thing, so.

“How did this- why now?” Tommy asks, mostly to himself as he struggles to process. “Don’t most soulmate bonds form the first time you meet someone?”

“Key word there is most. There’s plenty of soulmate bonds that form years after knowin’ someone. It’s different for everyone.” Techno explained between sips of coffee.

Phil was humming in agreement. “It’s rare, but not unheard of.”

Tommy took a breath, struggling to sort his thoughts as he made sense of all of this. “So you’re really my soulmates, then? Both of you?”

“We are.” Phil said warmly, looking at Tommy like he was worth the world and more. “And I, for one, am honored to have you as a soulmate.”

Breakfast is filled with a lot more hugs, several sneaky tears, and a few choice heartfelt words after that.

“Here comes Tommy, my favorite soulmate, Tubbo.”

Tubbo elbows Ranboo harshly in the ribs, earning a pained wheeze from the enderian hybrid. “You didn’t answer any of our texts! I was worried you’d fucking died of shock or something!”

Tommy smiles a bit sheepishly, still over the moon and struggling to accept that he now had four soulmates. Four! He went from nothing to everything in a single night, and he felt like it would never stop being surreal to him.

“Well excuse me for being so preoccupied with my four new soulmates that I FORGOT to check my phone this morning.” Tommy replied, watching as both Tubbo and Ranboo’s expressions morph into a look of shock.

“FOUR?” Tubbo cries, grabbing Tommy’s left wrist and yanking it close to his face to inspect the new rings of color wrapping around it.

“Four…” Ranboo echoed, looking ready to fall over. “You know, I think that’s the most soulmates I’ve ever heard of one person having, actually.”

“Is it really?” Tommy asked, curious and amazed.

“The most I’ve ever heard for sure, big man.” Tubbo agreed, releasing his wrist once he was fully satisfied with his examination of Tommy’s soulmarks. “I think fate likes you.” He teased, though a strange light shone in his eyes with the words.

Tommy had a feeling they were both thinking the same thing.

It was far more likely that fate was apologizing. About damn time, too.

“We should make more flower crowns at lunch today.” Ranboo suggested, taking one of Tommy’s hands to lead him to class. Tubbo nodded as he took the other, pulling ahead to lead the way and drag the other two behind him in some sort of weird soulmate chain. “I wholeheartedly agree! We need to make it official, and that means flower crowns, coffee, more explosions- oh, Tommy! We should go visit Michael again! He misses you!”

Tommy could only find it in himself to laugh as he was dragged through the halls, feeling warmer than he’d ever felt before in whole his life.

They make flower crowns at lunch. They’re crooked and ugly, just like they had been last time, but Tommy loves them all the same. He takes his home and carefully preserves it between the pages of his favorite book, to make sure he remembers the day forever.

The first day he spent surrounded by his soulmates.

Over the next few days, the four bands around Tommy’s wrist grew brighter and brighter. With each laugh, with each happy moment, he could feel the fresh connections strengthen and sing to him.

Curiously, he also realized that his monocolor band of acid green was growing duller and duller. He bothered Phil about it one lazy day, perched on his father’s desk and wondering what the change meant.

“It happens sometimes when the bond is mutually neglected.” Phil had explained to him. “It’s rare, but sometimes, the mark can even fade completely.”

The news had shocked him, but… Not in a bad way. To have a wrist bare of Dream’s mark on his life was… A strange thought, but definitely not a bad one.

As he continued to enjoy the new, soft moments with his friends and family, indulging in tea with Phil and playfights with Techno, whispering to Tubbo their newest plans to make their least favorite teacher’s life a living hell while Ranboo rubbed his temples off to the side and pretended to ignore them, inviting his friends over and having dinner with all four of his soulmates in one place, feeling so incredibly and impossibly loved…

He found he didn’t really care what happened to his bond with Dream.

He had something far more amazing to occupy his thoughts these days.