Chapter Text
Numb. That was the first thing Tommy felt as he was revived. Again.
Dream had revived him so many times now. His hair was a stark white compared to his usual golden locks. But they hadn’t been golden for a long time. The only reason he knew his hair was white was the occasional glint of his reflection in the sword Dream held. Or the one time Dream had drowned him to death. He saw his reflection in the water before he was shoved under.
Tommy had tried to fight at first. The man had already taken both of his lives in the early L’manburg days. So he had fought. But each time he did dream just dragged out his death and hurt him more. It was torture.
Dream had broke him. He used to fight back. Used to cry. Used to beg.
But he just stopped. And it scared him. His body just felt more numb every time he was revived. He would make noises and react to everything Dream did to him. But as time went on the numbness was getting to him. He just wasn’t feeling anymore. He didn’t cry, he didn’t yell, and he didn’t talk.
He distantly wondered if anyone was looking for him. Maybe Wilbur or Tubbo. But he doubted it. It felt like years. Maybe just a week. He couldn’t tell anymore. Everytime he died he went to his pitch black limbo with no one. It felt like months. When Dream would tell him it had been a few days. He didn’t know anymore. His sense of time was practically gone now.
He used to pray Wilbur would find him. His big brother would help him. But he didn’t know how to feel anymore. He had hoped Tubbo would find him too. His best friend. But no. No one had come for him. He was hoping anyone would help him. Save him.
But now he felt… numb. He didn't hope for anything. He knew no one was coming. He just felt… empty.
Wilbur was president and he had just been declared vice president. He had thought someone would come for him. But so far no one. He had helped them gain independence. Given up his discs. He thought dream would leave them alone.
But dream had showed up. When he had been out grabbing resources. He was alone in the forest. No one could see as dream had taken his third life. An axe through his chest.
When he had woken up he was where he was now. A dark room alone. He had been confused at first of course. He shouldn’t have been alive. But dream had showed up and explained. He had a revive book. He could revive people. And Tommy was his test subject.
Dream would come in but only to kill him. Never for food. He once starved Tommy to death. He killed Tommy so many ways. Tommy couldn’t help but feel numb now.
He knew Dream might come in soon. He always did. He revived him and came in the same day to kill him again usually. So he sat there and silently waited for his death once again. Not like he would be able to feel it anymore.
He could tell Dream had grown annoyed at his lack of reactions. Trying to hurt him more just to end up with no reaction still. It was the same.
He didn’t bother to look up as the door opened. Didn't want to see the same smile that haunted him. Always the same.
He didn’t react as Dream grabbed him by his hair and dragged him. The floor digging into his bare skin that wasn’t covered by clothes. Or his poor excuse of clothes. More like rags if anything. Coated with blood. His white tee with red sleeves was only red now. With so many holes, scorch marks, and more.
He knew what laid under his clothes. Scars. He hadn’t looked. But he knew it. Every death made him have more scars. Even in the Lmanburg wars he never had this many. Now? He was full of them. Like a twisted canvas for dream to make his marks.
He didn’t react as he was dragged out of the room. Which was weird since he never went out of the room anymore. Maybe dream had a more elaborate death for him planned this time.
They were outside somewhere. He wasn’t paying attention. He was limp in dreams hold as he dragged him by his hair. Anyone who saw him might think he was dead. Maybe he was. Maybe this wasn’t real. Nothing felt real anymore. But it was. He was alive again.
Eventually dream dropped him. His head fell awkwardly onto the ground. He briefly looked at his surroundings. They were near Lmanburg somewhere.
He heard Dreams voice above him. In the same sickly sweet tone he always had. “Bye Tommy. I wonder how L’manburg will react to you now.” Then he walked away. Like nothing mattered. Like Tommy didn’t matter. And maybe he didn’t.
He didn’t understand why Dream was letting him go now. He was a shell of who he used to be. And he couldn’t help but briefly think to dreams words. ‘I wonder how Lmanburg will react to you now’. And to be honest Tommy didn’t know either.
Tommy didn’t get up. This didn’t feel real. Everything was numb. But he hadn’t felt real in a long time.
Eventually night approached. He debated letting himself die to the mine at night. But he didn’t think he could stand limbo again. The darkness ranging on with nothing. So shakily he stood up.
He looked around briefly. He knew he was near Lmanburg. It was maybe a ten minute walk from here. He usually came out this far for supplies.
He started to walk. He didn’t know why. He didn’t really want to do anything. Part of him wanted to rot here. The other part of him was petrified of the thought of limbo. Of going there once again. So he started walking. He couldn’t go to limbo again. Not again. Never again.
He eventually made it to the familiar gates. Taking a step inside and walking through Lmanburg. It was his home. A nation he had helped build with his brother. But he didn’t feel anything really. He knew this was his home. But this didn’t feel like home.
It was pitch black out by now. He could hear mobs if he listened closely. But L’manburg had many lights from houses and such. So no mobs in the nation.
He made his way to his and Wilbur’s shared house. Wilbur had used the excuse he needed to keep his vice president close. But Tommy had knew he just wanted Tommy with him. They were brothers after all.
Tommy didn’t bother to knock. He just went inside. Not like he could be hurt more.
Wilbur was sitting at the table. Looking more stressed then he had seen him before. His hair frizzy, dark bags under his eyes, and maps laid across the table like they would hold the answer to some mystery Tommy couldn’t solve.
Wilbur looked up as Tommy came in. His eyes widened and for a second he looked dumbfounded. Then a worried look came over his face before it turned into horror. “Tommy?” He whispered.