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The nostalgic sound of a crackling fire, the warmth of its flame and the solid presence of Leo at Tommy's side. It should have been enough for him to sleep peacefully.
He didn't.
Paranoid thoughts haunted him in wakefulness and scattered sleep alike.
It never seemed to matter how many times he told himself he was okay, how many times he scanned the cabin basked in firelight that got dimmer with each passing hour. None of it worked. None of it helped.
And it wasn't that Tommy wasn't tired. He was. Exhaustion clung to his bones and weighed down on his eyelids. But every time he let his eyes slip closed, another shot of anxiety would pump through his heart and the process would start all over again.
Quite frankly, he was beyond sick of it. If he was still awake by the time the pale light of morning started to sleep into the room he was going to fucking lose it.
By which Tommy meant he would probably growl at the first person to talk at him and poke holes into Techno’s nice upholstery in a fit of aimless, overtired hatred.
Shadows jumped with the flickering of the fireplace and sent Tommy's breath and heart stuttering alongside it.
This wasn't working.
He looked up at the ceiling, traced the grain of the wood with his eyes. There were no imperfections in the wood. Techno was too much of a perfectionist bastard to use anything with knots in it.
Maybe that was for the best. Tommy didn't even want to think about how much more unbearable his paranoia would be if there were eye-like spots staring down at him all night.
Tommy wiggled around on the cot in an attempt to get more comfortable. But the crawling anxiety under his skin never lessened and Tommy found himself shifting into his humanoid form and sliding to his feet without thinking.
He padded quietly over to the ladder. If he were any less overtired he would've thought this to be a terrible idea.
It still was a terrible idea– Tommy was just too tired and wigged out to care.
He scaled the rungs and pushed the trapdoor open, crawling into the attic and very gently placing the trapdoor back down behind him.
Standing in the attic that made up Techno’s bedroom, Tommy finally felt an inkling of doubt.
Everything was much darker without the fireplace. Sure, Tommy's night vision had been great since getting mutated, but it was all desaturated in a way that made the room feel unfamiliar.
Tommy took a hesitant step towards the large bed pressed against the left wall.
What was he even doing?
Techno wasn't… he wasn't going to comfort Tommy. There wasn't any point to this.
Tommy took another step. “Techno? Techno, are you awake?” he whispered.
The massive lump of blankets on the bed didn't respond.
Awfully suspicious considering Techno used to get annoyed at Tommy for ‘walking too loud’ and waking him up too early in the morning.
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the ‘sleeping’ piglin.
“Techno–” he started, and was then immediately interrupted by the fakest snore ever. “–oh my days, would you stop fucking– I know you're awake, dickhead. You're not exactly a heavy sleeper, now are you?” Not to mention Techno did not fucking snore.
Techno still didn't move, but his low voice came from the lump. “Mmmnope. Too busy bein’ asleep, can't hear you, sorry.”
Oh this motherfucker was going to regret that shit.
Tommy’s tail flicked, he leaned his weight forward, and then pounced.
The bed creaked as Tommy landed directly on top of Techno, digging his knees into the man’s stomach in sweet sweet retribution.
Techno grunted. “Oh my– bro, you're so boney. Go back to your own bed,” he hissed, shoving Tommy sideways.
But Tommy only flopped down beside him, sinking into Techno’s absurdly comfortable bed with a satisfied exhale. “No, no, I’m good here,” he stated primly.
He watched Techno’s face closely, saw the exasperated rolling of his eyes as he groaned.
“Bruh… can't even sleep peacefully in my own bed,” Techno bemoaned dramatically, even as he made no further attempts to kick Tommy out.
Which Tommy of course took to mean he was more than welcome to stay where he was.
Tommy played with the blanket he was laying on top of. The soft fibers felt different to his fingers now, but he still recognized it from when he'd lived with Techno.
If he felt around the edges long enough, he was sure he'd find the tear he'd mended where Techno had accidentally caught it on his tusks.
Still fidgeting, Tommy found himself speaking up again, “D’you remember that time Dream stopped us at the nether portal?” He didn't mean to ask that.
Why did he ask that?
Techno turned his head in Tommy's direction, brow furrowing. “Uhh… I may recall that occasion, yes. Why do you ask?”
Tommy may not have known when he first started speaking, but the words came all too easy with Techno's stilted prompting.
“He– would you have– would you really have handed me over to him if he called in that favor?” Tommy’s throat tightened as he asked it, fingers twisting in the blanket and then going still.
He could still recall it, clear as day. How on top of the world he felt, how untouchable having the Technoblade at his side made him feel.
How violently that sense of safety was ripped away when Techno mentioned that stupid favor he owed Dream.
‘Don’t ask questions, Tommy. The adults are speaking.’
“Tommy, that was, like, forever ago. I already paid back my favor, I don't owe that loser anything–”
Tommy cut him off, the tightness in his throat only growing until it wrapped around his lungs too. “It's a yes or no question,Techno. Would you have handed me over to him, yes or–” his voice failed him.
He sat up and glared off at nothing in particular. Anything was better than seeing Techno’s endlessly impassive face right now.
He took a deep breath, but still only managed to whisper the next words. “Y’know what? I don't want to know. Doesn't fucking matter.” The answer wasn’t hard to guess anyway.
Techno made his stance pretty fucking clear when he broke Dream out of Pandora’s Vault of his own free will and accord. No bullshit favor could ever excuse that.
The mattress shifted under Tommy as Techno sat up too, clearing his throat. “So… you, uh… wanna tell me what brought this on?”
Memories from earlier that morning flashed through Tommy’s head without his permission
“No,” he snapped first, only for the words to come rushing out a moment later anyway.
“I just– I had a– a bad dream. He was hunting me. All I could hear was him fucking laughing. And then you– you–” his voice wobbled, his eyes burned. “–you grabbed me. You helped him. You– you fucking– you pinned my arms to my sides and I couldn't breathe and you didn't care and– and you said you and Dream had a fucking ‘mutually beneficial partnership' and then he forced that sludgy potion down my throat and you didn't care,” Tommy accused harshly.
Not that Tommy could even hear his own trembling voice over the ringing in his ears.
Something horrible was building in his chest, crawling through his fur as each hair raised and stood on end.
He didn’t want to talk about this.
The words kept coming.
“Why didn't you care? Why did nobody care? What did I– I know I've fucked up. I– I’m annoying, I talk too loud, I'm angry even though I didn't used to be this– but I'm trying. I'm trying to be better, but I still feel him. I still feel his horrible, spindly fucking claws wrapping around my neck like a noose.” The room was closing in on Tommy, and Tommy was curling in on himself.
He wanted it to stop.
Why wouldn’t it stop?
“I’m so fucking sick of it, Techno. I don't– I don't want to be scared anymore. I just want– tell me you won't help him. Techno. Techno, I need you to say you'll never work with him again. Please, please, please, please–” it didn’t feel like a real word anymore but Tommy kept mumbling it, kept begging.
Large hands grabbed his wrists. The gentle way in which they pried Tommy’s clawed fingers away from his scalp was paradoxically painful.
He didn’t deserve this gentleness, he hadn’t earned it.
A whine slipped from his throat– because that wasn’t true. That was just what Dream said, and Tommy was past that now. He was supposed to be past it.
Still far too gentle, Tommy was pulled against Techno’s chest. Warmth engulfed him as arms shielded him from the rest of the world.
Head tucked securely under Techno’s chin, a low chuff chuff chuff sound came from the man’s throat. Comforting and familiar.
An awkward hand pat Tommy on the back.
That too was familiar.
Techno made an uncertain grunt. “Uh… There there. You're alright, Tommy. I don’t plan on workin’ with him again. I mean, I don’t–” he abruptly cut off whatever he'd been about to say next.
Not that it made a difference. Tommy heard the unspoken words well enough, as expected as they were disappointing.
After all, how could Techno ever promise to permanently cut off a powerful ally like that? How ridiculous would that be?
Something sickening curdled in Tommy's stomach as the arms around him rapidly began to feel less like reassurance and more like a confining cage.
He shoved Techno away and only felt more nauseous when he missed the warmth anyway.
Tommy hugged his knees to his chest, eyes angled down to stare despondently at the blanket. “Okay,” he mumbled.
“Tommy. Tommy, relax. L’Manberg’s gone, we’re not friends, I don't owe him anything, and besides, most of Chat hates him these days. Not worth the headache he causes, trust me, bro,” Techno reiterated, as if any of that was at all comforting.
Tommy wasn’t sure how Techno expected him to believe a word of that. Not when ‘temporarily aligning interests’ had always been reason enough for Techno to team with that green bastard in the past.
What a joke.
Tommy just wished he could stop being the punchline already.
The smart thing would be to go back downstairs. Talking with Techno had clearly been a mistake.
Even so, Tommy made no move to leave.
He couldn’t bring himself to.
Because no matter how unreliable he knew Techno was as an ally, Tommy couldn't quite kill that stupid, childish part of him that still clung to the fantastical idea of a savior.
Someone so powerful even Dream would think twice before trying anything.
Techno cleared his throat quietly. “It’s late, Tommy. You should– you should go back to bed. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Dismissal.
Tommy’s mouth twisted downward, eyes narrowing at nothing in particular. “Okay. Goodnight, Technoblade,” he replied shortly in an otherwise toneless voice before pointedly laying down with his back to Techno.
“Heh? Tommy. Tommy, I meant– you can't just steal my bed!” Techno hissed, incredulous and shrill.
Tommy wiggled under the blankets, stretching out and getting comfortable– ‘accidentally’ hitting Techno in the arm with a wayward hand in the process.
He exaggerated a yawn. “Actually, Techno, seeing as I'm already laying here, and uh– comfortable– I think you'll find that it's actually my bed,” Tommy helpfully explained.
“Bruh.”
Tommy made a noise vaguely imitating Techno’s shaky bruh on impulse, only to immediately devolve into snickers.
He rolled over to face Techno, who was still sitting upright from Tommy's little freak out earlier. “Well?”
Techno’s expression only grew more exasperated. “What do you mean ‘well?’... This is my bed!”
“Oh my days, Techno. This is my bed, this is my bed, mimimimimi– that's what you sound like,” Tommy mocked, deepening his voice to make it closer to Techno's.
A heavy sigh fell from Techno's mouth. As though he'd been saddled with a great burden.
That made sense. It was surely difficult to bounce back from a patented Tommyinnit insult.
Techno scrubbed his face with his hands. “Y’know what?” he started– voice muffled until he lowered his hands. “Y’know what, Tommy? Go ahead. I don't care– but just know that if you kick me– if you kick me, Tommy, I am kicking you back twice as hard, alright?” He jabbed a warning finger in Tommy's general direction.
“Uh oh. Sounds like The Blade is grouchy. Not enough beauty sleep,” Tommy continued to tease, fearless as ever.
Techno’s only response was another weary sigh– what an old bastard. The bed creaked and shifted as the man laid down.
Tommy rolled over so that he wouldn't have to look at Techno, intentionally tugging the blankets as he did so.
He didn’t acknowledge the hollow pit in his chest, nor did he respond to Techno’s final utterance of, “Goodnight, Tommy.”
And he certainly didn't think about how much that aching, breathless pain grasping his lungs felt like grief.
He wished Techno would have just lied to him instead.
Wished Techno would have said that trading Tommy away to Dream had never been an option, even if they both knew it wasn't true.
Tommy bit down on his hand– not hard enough to break skin, just enough to hide the instability in his breathing.
The last thing Tommy needed was for Techno to try to force himself to be comforting again (would Techno notice if he stopped breathing? Would he even care?).
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow they would kill Dream, and then Tommy could finally go home. Finally be okay.
Please.
He just wanted to be okay.
–LINEBREAK–
“Un-fucking-believable,” Tommy spat as he stormed past Baba, hopping the steps to get away from Techno's cabin faster.
He should have known better.
Techno wouldn't change. Techno never changed.
Especially not for him.
His lungs heaved with every step, suffocating on the all-consuming anger flooding his senses.
He felt sixteen again.
That wasn't a good thing.
Tommy was pretty sure he was dying by the time he hauled himself over the fence and into the pasture.
What was so wrong about wanting to feel safe?
What the fuck did everyone else see in Tommy that made them hurt him? Over and over again.
Just a few minutes. All he needed was a few good minutes, and then he'd go talk to Phil.
And then the second his hands stopped shaking, he could gear the fuck up and finally kill…
“Tommy. Hello! It's been awhile. Did you have fun, running around on another server without me?” Dream greeted him so lightly, as though they were a couple of old friends catching up.
He had one of Techno’s cows on a lead– but not just any cow– Henrique.
Tommy's heart dropped like a stone in his stomach.
No, no, no, no, no, he wasn't supposed to–
Dream tilted his head, drawn smile rotating minutely with the gesture. “Aww, what's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” he teased, voice low.
Tommy couldn't stumble backwards fast enough, bile burning in the back of his throat. “Don't– don't fucking speak to– stop talking like that. And step the fuck away from Henrique,” he ordered, trying to be braver than he felt.
“Or what? What will you do, Tommy? Tell on me? Guess what! Techno doesn't care! Phil doesn't care! They're the ones who broke me out of prison in the first place!” Dream laughed, and every condescending bark of it punched another hole straight through Tommy's lungs.
Henrique was getting nervous, huffing and tossing her head to tug on the lead around her neck.
Something bumped into the back of Tommy's legs and he couldn't stop the gasp that left him.
But when his eyes darted down, it was only a baby cow. Henrique's calf, trembling and huddled against him.
It looked even more terrified than Tommy.
Right. This wasn't the time for fear.
He pushed through the pounding of his heart and faced Dream head on. “You know what I'm gonna do, bitch?” The steadying weight of a netherite sword materialized in Tommy's grasp. “I'm going to fight you–”
Dream didn't even let him get through the declaration before scoffing. “Tommy. You're not going to fight me.” He said it like it was such an obvious thing.
He always said it like it was an obvious thing.
Stop shaking. You're better than this.
Tommy raised the stolen sword higher. “Shut up– shut up! Yes I will. I'm going to fucking stab you and leave you bleeding in the snow like the pathetic fucking bastard–”
Between one instant and the next, an enchanted netherite axe had appeared in Dream’s hand.
Its sharp blade rested ominously against Henrique's throat, just below the lead.
He didn't even have to say anything, Tommy was already choking on his words as he lurched forward.
The smallest tilt of Dream’s head had Tommy freezing up again just as fast.
He couldn't take his eyes off of where the sharpened edge disappeared into dense fur.
Other cows had started to form a crowd around them, making their unease loud and known.
Dream made a noise– the stifled beginning of a laugh that Tommy only recognized on account of far, far too many hours spent around him.
Not this again. Please, please, please, not this again.
“Drop the weapon, Tommy… or the cow gets it,” Dream instructed, and it was so–
It was frustrating.
It was so fucking frustrating just how badly that stupid tone got to him. The way he always talked like they were friends– but also like Tommy was some idiot little kid who needed to be talked to slowly.
He felt like throwing up.
And because Tommy was already seeing flashes of dead pets behind every blink, he listened.
The netherite sword landed harmlessly in the snow at his feet.
Dream chuckled quietly. This was all just a game to him.
That was what he'd always said, right? Tommy would never be free of him, because he was too fun.
Fun to hurt and torment and break down into tiny little pieces before Dream would haphazardly glue him back together again to repeat the process.
A hand wrapped around Tommy's bicep, fingers burning into his skin like a brand even through the sleeve of his hoodie.
He couldn't have stopped the strangled shout that left his mouth if he'd tried. “Phil!”
Dream tugged him harshly forward, until Tommy was forced to look him right in the soulless black eyes of his mask. The grip on Tommy's arm tightened to a warning degree. “Don't yell,” Dream chided, scoffing.
Tommy couldn't breathe, he–
The lead wasn't around Henrique's neck anymore. Dream must have put it away to grab Tommy.
Defiance reignited deep in Tommy's core.
If he could just get someone else's attention…
Tommy glared into Dream’s stupid smiling mask. “You know what? Fuck you, bitch! PHIL!” he shouted even louder than last time, struggling to yank his arm back.
He ignored the ever tightening grip and sucked in another deep breath. “LE–”
Netherite struck flesh– except it wasn't Tommy who'd been hit.
Henrique staggered and collapsed to the ground with a loud, braying cry of pain as blood gushed from her side, staining the snow bright crimson.
Tommy choked on his shout at the sudden stab of sheer terror. “Henrique!”
He tried to run to Henrique. To try to help, to slow the bleeding, to do anything– only to be held back by Dream’s unyielding grip.
Tommy’s ears were flat against his skull. “You– what the fuck’s wrong with you!? You fucking bastard! Let me go!” He pried at the fingers around his arm, frantically digging his claws into the small amount of exposed skin.
Dream didn't so much as flinch as blood welled from the new cuts on his fingers. “I told you not to yell,” he reminded, only sounding mildly inconvenienced by the whole thing.
“That didn't mean you had to fucking– to– to– to stab–” the words weren't forming properly. Tommy couldn't even breathe properly.
The world was a cacophony of dizzying fear and the distressed calls of cows and crows alike.
Tommy felt like he was floating a million blocks away, blinking distantly at the gathering storm of crows. Occasionally one would swoop at Dream, but mostly they just watched.
That was understandable. They wouldn't want to end up like Henrique.
Tommy was dragged further away from the cabins. Further away from the cows and the crows.
Further away from help.
Dream stopped only after they were surrounded by snow-covered spruce trees.
The hand on Tommy's arm moved to his wrist as something cold was pressed into his own hand.
An ender pearl.
Tommy’s fingers curled around the pearl, mind still lost in a daze.
“Here's what's going to happen,” Dream started. “You're going to throw this pearl over there, past Techno and Philza’s place, you’re not going to yell or cry for help or anything stupid like that, okay?”
His hand was still holding Tommy's wrist.
As Tommy fought to regain his bearings– to process any of the shit that just happened and was still happening– it remained the only thing he could think about.
“Let go of me.” It came out quieter than Tommy meant it to.
Dream’s response was a put-upon sigh. “Tommy. Were you listening to me? Yes or no, verbal confirmation,” he reiterated slowly, still not letting go.
Tommy's fingers itched for a weapon, but he'd already tossed it in the snow a minute ago.
He settled for glaring at Dream, the familiar demeaning tone sparking anger through the fog. “What’s stopping me from pearling to Techno's front door right now?” Aside from the fact that Tommy didn't want to even look at Techno right now.
Leo, at least, would help Tommy if he knew Dream was here.
And Phil would… probably help? Tommy liked to think that he would help, anyway.
He did last time. Sort of.
Dream laughed at him. Just like always.
He seemed to think it over for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Well… nothing, technically. But I… wouldn't recommend it. Y’know, if you care about your new friend,” Dream snickered as he said it.
Threatening the people Tommy cared about never got old to him, did it?
The burning pressure around Tommy's wrist disappeared as Dream stepped aside and tipped his head to where he wanted Tommy to throw the pearl. Prompting.
For a split second, Tommy considered throwing it straight at Techno's front door anyway.
Fuck the threats, Dream couldn't beat Technoblade and Philza and Leo all alone, no matter how prepared he was. That just wasn't happening.
Except when Tommy moved to draw his arm back, eyes flicking towards the cabins, all he could think about was what Techno said last night.
What he didn't say.
Their argument just minutes ago, right before Tommy stormed out that door and right into Dream's waiting hands.
Tommy gripped the ender pearl tighter, a growing bitterness in his chest.
When had Techno ever done anything to help Tommy if it didn't directly benefit himself?
Throat closing up and jaw clenching, Tommy adjusted his aim and finally threw the pearl.
Seconds later, the jarring impact of pearl teleportation rattled up his bones.
Pristine snow stretched far ahead of him. The landscape was only interrupted by a single nether portal.
One Tommy had grown quite familiar with during his time staying with Techno after he tried to–
After he ran away from exile.
“Oh, good. You listened.”
Tommy's ears swiveled and turned before his eyes did.
Dream sounded… not surprised. But he did sound pleased.
Tommy had the visceral urge to tear his own skin off, fur and all.
The world kept turning, and Dream was still… Dream.
“Follow me,” Dream instructed as he started towards the portal.
He wasn't even watching Tommy.
How easy would it be to run…?
No. No, that wasn't a good idea.
The snow was too loud. Dream would catch him immediately.
Wordlessly, Tommy followed.
Dream gestured for Tommy to step into the portal first– because he wasn't a complete idiot, unfortunately.
Purple light distorted Tommy's vision, but he barely noticed the expected nausea that came with it on top of the crawling maggots already churning heavy in his gut.
Cold air turned into the dry, oppressive heat of the nether.
Netherrack bordered right on the edge of painfully hot beneath his feet.
Tommy tugged on the neck of his borrowed hoodie.
The nether was every bit as miserable as he remembered.
Dream stepped out of the portal, and then inexplicably paused to stare at Tommy for several deeply uncomfortable seconds in silence.
Tommy bristled, tail lashing once before he forcibly crammed his nerves down. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop– stop fucking staring at me like I'm some bug beneath a magnifying glass,” he demanded as he clung to every ounce of self-control to keep his voice from trembling.
In a regrettable turn of events, this only resulted in quiet chuckling from Dream. “Ha! Yeah, you're like– you're like one of those ants little children burn to a crisp because they're bored,” he agreed, sounding far too amused with the comparison.
It wasn't supposed to be funny, Tommy just barely didn't say.
He frowned, brow furrowed close to the point of causing a headache. “Why are you like this? What drives you to– to– to hurt everyone around you for– what's the point of it?” Tommy found himself asking instead.
Dream shrugged as he started walking. “I don't know. Why does anyone do anything? Because I feel like it. Because you make life more interesting. I mean, come on, I feel like I've definitely told you all this before, Tommy.”
And yet Tommy could still never quite wrap his head around it.
He couldn't imagine treating people the way Dream did and just being… fine with that.
Tommy glanced back at the nether portal, dread eating away at his insides as he turned to follow Dream. “Right. Yeah, you, uh… you have,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around himself.
So much for his and Leo's plan to get the jump on Dream.
Should have known better.
He kept his head down and eyes trained on Dream's heels.
He didn't want to look at the lava.
Part of him thought he wouldn't even be tempted this time. But what if he was?
What if he looked into endless lakes of lava far below and couldn't stop himself from stepping closer to that edge?
That wasn't what he wanted, he just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to…
Tommy breathed deeply. It shook both ways.
I'm scared.
The undeniable truth.
He'd worked so hard to build up the courage, to convince himself he could really do this.
And now that he was actually here– that Dream was here.
All Tommy was now was scared and alone.
How pathetic.
What a coward.
“So–”
Tommy's ears flattened sideways, fur on the back of his neck prickling.
What did Dream want now?
“–I see you've become a lot furrier. A raccoon is… fitting, for you,” Dream mused slowly.
“Don't talk to me,” Tommy snapped without thinking, a natural reaction to the sudden stab of revulsion in his chest.
He was just starting to come around to the whole being a raccoon thing. The last thing he needed was for Dream to ruin this too.
Dream laughed, like he thought Tommy was joking somehow. “Tommy. Come on, it's true! You were always scurrying around. Rummaging through people’s chests, stealing their things, living in their walls like a little pest. I mean, you gotta admit, it's pretty funny,” he insisted as he snickered all the while.
Tommy glared at the back of Dream’s head. “You're a wrongen.”
“I'm your friend,” Dream countered without so much as a beat of hesitation.
Stop, stop, stop, stop.
Tommy had to swallow back the returning bile in his throat. “No you're not,” he denied shortly, voice far too breathless and strained.
Dream just hummed, the tone pitched upward in clear disagreement.
It was all sort of making Tommy's head spin.
Not this again.
Please not this shit again.
Tommy didn't notice the nearby ghast through the clenching of his lungs until it was already shooting a fireball with a wailing cry.
He was narrowly tugged out of the way by Dream's hand fisted in the front of his sweater.
In a matter of seconds, Dream had a bow in his hands and the ghast was dead before it could fire a second shot.
Tommy stared blankly at the flaming crater left behind.
Dream sighed. “It's like you're trying to get yourself killed in the dumbest way possible. Just… stay close, alright? It's not quite time for all that just yet.”
A small, angry part of Tommy wanted to throw himself into lava out of spite– but it wouldn't have mattered even if he did.
Dream would just bring him back anyway.
As it turned out, Tommy had only been afforded the illusion of choice as Dream grabbed his wrist and dragged him along the unstable nether terrain without waiting to see if Tommy would listen.
Visceral fantasies of sinking his teeth into Dream's throat played through Tommy's mind, but all it did was make his stomach churn harder as Dream’s image overlapped with the scaled face of the man he killed doing just that.
No, no, no– Tommy never wanted to have another person's blood filling his mouth ever again.
The discomforting fantasy was crammed down as far as Tommy could shove it, and then his vision was swirling purple.
A disgruntled noise rose in his throat, and this time he really did feel like he was going to puke.
Ocean air hit his tongue, lapping waves met his ears, and–
Tommy stumbled out of the portal only to immediately sink to the ground with heaving gags that brought a painful burn to the back of his throat and no further.
Nothing but saliva dripped from his mouth the whole time, but at least Dream wasn't touching him.
“Oh, you're being dramatic, Tommy,” Dream
Stomach still clenching, Tommy aimed a blind punch for Dream’s shins and hit armoured netherite.
Dream didn't even physically retaliate like Tommy half-expected him to.
“Don't hit me,” Dream chided instead, which was basically worse than being kicked in the ribs.
Tommy wiped the saliva from his muzzle off on the back of his hand and staggered to his feet, glaring. “Fuck you,” he spat.
Because this wasn't happening again.
Dream couldn't just drag him back to this beach, to this fucking plains biome, and expect to just run it all back.
Tommy skimmed through his inventory even though he knew full well he'd find nothing of use there. “This isn't exile, Dream.” Even if his heart skipped a beat when his eyes were inevitably drawn to the tower where he’d almost– “I'm not just gonna fucking sit back and take it, and you're not gonna fucking get away with it this time either.”
And that wasn't a threat. It was a promise.
Dream tilted his head just barely to the side in a manner that always managed to send a chill down Tommy's spine. “Tommy, what are you talking about? I already got away with it!” His raised voice was accompanied by unrestrained laughter.
Tommy shrunk back, tail tucking and ears pinned back despite himself.
Because the horrible truth was that it didn't matter how big he talked, or how many times he tried to overcome his past, the fear gripping his heart never went away.
Not when it came to him.
To Dream.
Dream, who kept laughing as he advanced closer. “I mean, I literally just snatched you out of Technoblade’s backyard and nobody came out to investigate!”
Well, at least he was self-aware enough to admit this was a kidnapping.
For every step Dream took, Tommy took two more back, eyes only darting away to check for craters.
“Face it! None of them care you're gone. You're not important enough to them. Not like how you are to me.” The enchanted netherite axe that appeared in Dream’s hand should have felt like a direct contradiction to such an emphatic statement.
It wasn't.
Every hair on Tommy's body was raised, a primal need to get away flooding his senses.
But there was nowhere to run to. Not out here.
He had to stay focussed.
“That's not true,” he denied first, before Dream could dig his lies any deeper into Tommy's wobbly brain.
Tommy breathed deeply, attention locked on to Dream’s every little movement. “Fuck off, Dream. Why did you bring me here? This is the first place they’ll look, y’know. You're not fucking subtle, you creepy bastard,” he scoffed– because they would be looking for him.
Or at the very least, Leo would be.
“Aw, come on, Tommy, you know you don't mean that. We’re friends,” Dream crooned in the way he always did.
Tommy narrowly resisted the impulse to slap his hands over his ears. “Shut up– shut up! Don't say that, don't– don't talk to me like that,” he snapped instead.
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” Dream reprimanded in turn.
And once again Tommy felt he'd been cast as the misbehaving child throwing a meaningless tantrum.
As though Tommy were the unreasonable one here.
Dream shook his head, clicking his tongue once in disapproval. “You don't need to fight me, you know. I mean, you can. By all means, go for it, it's fun playing with you– but there's no point in it. No one's coming to save you, Tommy. They probably haven't even noticed you're gone yet,” he raved gleefully.
That's not true, that's not true, that's not true–
Dream was getting closer. Tommy couldn't– he couldn't move.
Was this really it?
Was Tommy doomed to repeat this neverending cycle of fighting to escape Dream's clutches, only to wind up worse off than before?
At least Tubbo wasn't around to get shot in the crossfire this time.
Dream was backlit in a familiar pale blue glow for half of an instant before a whirlwind of blades came out swinging.
Metal grated harshly against netherite as Dream dodged right in the nick of time, jumping out of range.
And there, like a shining beacon of light against the darkness, Leo appeared.
He stood tall between Tommy and Dream, both katanas drawn and ready. “I'm sorry, you were saying?” Leo taunted, the glorious bastard.
Unfathomable relief, and, above all else, hope, flooded Tommy’s chest.
Before Tommy knew what he was doing, he’d already rushed forward to throw his arms around Leo. “Leo! You're here!” he cheered in a brief, ecstatic moment.
Of course, he then remembered the masked bastard only a few blocks away and was just as quick to let go to stand at Leo's side.
Leo sent Tommy a brief glimpse of a smile, infallible and warm. “I did tell you I wouldn't let you face this creep alone, remember?”
And with that statement; airy and light and meaningful.
For the first time in a while, Tommy felt like maybe– just maybe– they actually stood a chance.