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Las Nevadas’ hotel loomed tall above Tommy as he dragged his bloodied feet towards the entrance. The sand stuck to the sticky dried blood on the soles of his feet, Tommy’s teeth chattering as he finally, finally reached the hotel entrance. The bell above the door jingled as Tommy pushed it open and he was greeted by the warm glow of the lobby, the receptionist at the desk looked up over her glasses as he entered and Tommy knew he was a miserable sight.
Tommy’s golden curls were still slightly damp, smelling of the sea, blood, sweat and dirt. His classic white and red shirt was torn, the white now more of a brown-gray and the red was faded. His khaki pants were rolled up to his knees, his legs baring the scars of small explosions, some fresh, some faded. Tommy’s arms were curled against his chest, still sluggishly bleeding and some other wounds stinking of infection. The bruises around his wrists were tender to the touch, thanks to Dream having chained him to a tree as punishment for disobeying him just days prior.
“Can I help you?” The woman asked, lips pressed into a thin line, one brown eyebrow lifted. Tommy nodded, stumbling towards her desk and his feet leaving bloody prints behind on the black and white tiled floor. She wheeled her chair back just slightly as Tommy bumped against the desk, accidentally knocking a pen to the floor. Her blue eyes followed it before flicking back up to Tommy, looking even less impressed than before.
“Can I book a room? I- I’m a friend of Quackity's, he, um, he’ll want to know I’m here,” Tommy choked out, forcing a grin with yellow stained teeth. The receptionist turned her eyes to her computer before they went back to Tommy.
“We don’t appreciate homeless addicts coming in here, making a mess and demanding to see our president,” the receptionist said flatly, already reaching for her landline phone. She pointed down the street with her other hand. “The hospital's that direction.”
Tommy gaped at her, eyes searching her face for any sign she may give in.
“I have money! Right here!” Tommy’s hands patted down the pockets of his pants, diving in and drawing out a small handful of L’Manburg coins. He held them out to her in cupped hands. “Is this enough?”
She didn’t even bother to look before pressing numbers of the telephone and lifting it to her ear. “Yes, we have a situation. A homeless kid is in here, we need him escorted out.”
Tommy heart leapt to his throat - was he truly that terrible? But his words pushed it aside. “I’m not homeless!” Tommy protested, eyes wide. The receptionist didn’t respond, just stared him down. The elevator dinged to the side, the scrape of doors sliding open alerting Tommy to the arrival of whomever the woman had called, most likely security. Well that was quick.
“Tommy?” The voice was flat, the accent having undertones of American mixed with the typical Esempii accent. Tommy’s tail curled at the familiar voice. When was the last time Tommy had seen them? Tommy couldn’t even remember, but it must’ve been around the time they got L’Manburg back from JSchlatt.
Tommy spun on mangled heels to face Purpled.
They looked different to when Tommy had last seen them. They still wore that fuck-ass purple hoodie with the grey and green UFO on it as well as black cargo pants. Their dark navy blue boots with the yellow stars and the white tongues of the shoes were scrubbed clean despite holding the subtle evidence of wear and tear. Purpled’s dirty blond hair was cut to above their ears and their antennae were twitching slightly as their purple eyes took Tommy in, black sclera glinting in the yellow light.
Tommy stuffed the coins back into his pockets, ignoring when some hit the floor, before limping towards Purpled, who grabbed him by the arm once he was close enough.
“Why are you here? Aren’t you exiled?” Purpled questioned, supporting Tommy’s weight with their hand on his arm.
“No, yes, only from L’Manburg,” Tommy mumbled, gripping Purpled’s arm tightly. “Why are you here?”
“Working,” Purpled scoffed with a roll of their eyes, though it was weak. “Are you… alright?” Tommy reckons that’s the most concerned he’s ever heard Purpled sound. He makes a face at Purpled, eyes flicking around before eventually landing back on them.
“Do I look alright, dickhead?” Tommy huffed, glaring at Purpled. “Believe it or not, Dream’s a major asshole.”
Purpled made a small noise of acknowledgment, their eyes flicking up and down Tommy before tugging him towards the elevator. Tommy’s feet slid against the tiled floor as he struggled to follow after Purpled, the adrenaline of the past few hours wearing off as he was finally with somebody he subconsciously considered as safe.
Wordlessly, Purpled’s arm hooked around Tommy’s waist, their palm resting just below Tommy’s ribs on his side and Purpled hauled Tommy’s arm over their shoulder, hauling Tommy up enough so Purpled could half carry him into the elevator. Purpled was a few inches shorter than Tommy, so they were leaning slightly to the left in order to properly support Tommy’s height and weight.
Tommy let his head fall against Purpled’s shoulder, his tangled golden locks spilling against the purple hoodie as the elevator doors closed behind them. Tommy's breathing was heavy, pants brushing against their neck as Purpled subtly rubbed his side, soothing in a way Tommy hadn't felt in a long time.
Tommy was unsure when his pants become even, but he hears the elevator ding shortly before the doors rattled open, revealing a corridor lined with doors. Expensive looking doors. Purpled shifts Tommy in their grip, hauling him further into their arms as Tommy let himself go nearly fully limp in their careful hold.
Purpled made a soft noise at the sudden weight but didn't object, just continued walking the hall. Tommy briefly closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was in front of a dark wooden door, unable to catch the number in time as Purpled pushed it open with one hand, the handle beeping with a tap of a key card.
The room inside was surprisingly neat, the only evidence of it being lived in was the slight rumple of the dark blue sheets and the pile of stacked clothes on one the white arm chairs, folded neatly and waiting to be put away.
A bathroom was the only thing attached by a door to the bedroom-living room-dining room sort of lay out the room had going on. A two seater couch and the armchair sat in front of an unnecessarily large television, a small four seater round table a bit behind that with a counter with a microwave oven and a clear kettle, a sink attached to the bench.
The queen sized bed took up one corner of the room, not fully pushed against the wall which would allow for one person to be able to reach the wall side of the bed. Purpled dragged them to the bed, seating Tommy down on the edge before wordlessly pulling away, purple eyes lingering briefly on his wounds before they were forcefully turned away, Purpled's sneakers making soft taps against the hard wood floor as he approached the counter.
For once, Tommy didn't make a remark of any kind. He was tired, exhausted even, as he stared down at dirty palms. He had no idea why he was here. This wasn't Quackity. This wasn't Techno, who he had originally wanted to go to. This was Purpled, somebody he hadn't talked to in months but Prime why did it feel like just yesterday that they were laughing as they chased one another, stealing Tommy’s discs and promising he would murder Purpled next time he saw them.
Why did a memory from months ago feel like a fleeting dream now, forever out of reach and beyond the threshold of what Tommy himself could reach? Why did his old friend feel like somebody who was so starkly new yet so unbearably old in his mind, somebody he could never truly have without something getting in his way?
The soft rustle of fabric drew Tommy from the pits of his cruel mind, grey dulled eyes tearing away from bloody palms to meet with the violet glow of Purpled’s in the dim lighting. Clutched in their hands was a small blue first aid kit, their fingers toying with the zip as if debating whether or not to open it as they peered down at Tommy, the corner of their mouth curled down slightly.
“You think too loudly,” Purpled muttered quietly, all four eyes drawing away from Tommy as they kneeled before him, unzipping the white zip. Of course they'd looked away from Tommy, he was disgusting. Dream had said so himself as explosions brought Tommy to his bloodied knees. Without looking up, Purpled continued to talk. “He's not here, you know.”
Oh how Tommy wanted to scream. He wanted to scream at Purpled about how Dream was always there, no matter what he did, where he was or who he was with, Dream always knew what Tommy was doing, where he was. Tommy opened his mouth, perhaps to make a sharp jab but all that came out was a soft squeak as a puff of air escaped. The kind where your throat clogged up and suffocated you from within, not allowing a single word nor breath to escape his throat.
Purpled held out their clawed hand, a cloth of some kind in the other and Tommy extended his arm shakily, blood drying sticky and itchy against his pink skin. Tommy expected pain, those black claws to curl deep and unforgiving into his skin but instead gentle fingertips traced around the wounds. Careful to avoid where they were most sensitive and eventually their thumb came to rest on where scars lay too straight, too coincidental to be an accident or unplanned.
That’s when Purpled, who rarely hesitated, hesitated, thumb brushing over the bumps of lines again before slipping away to cradle his wrist and Tommy swore he caught the hitch of their breath before the white cloth pat against the blood, damp from saline.
Tommy hissed out a soft breath at the sting, tail giving a light flick of agitation as he muttered a quiet ”be gentle bitch,” beneath his breath, met by a soft hum-scoff from Purpled, though they lessened the pressure, gently cleaning away the blood.
Tommy let himself pull away from the feeling of the cloth and pain, detaching himself the same way he did during exile and instead focus on something else. The birds singing in the trees, the butterfly's fluttering between flowers, the bob of Purpled's antennae as they worked, Tommy's eyes wandering down to the new hairstyle Purpled had, a middle part rather then the mess of a fringe that used to just brush their eyes, the way their eyebrows furrowed slightly as they wiped at a particularly frustrating bit of dried blood, the subtle purple hue of their cheeks and the beautiful, beautiful black and purple eyes that looked as if they would be able to reflect entire universes in them.
Wow, was Purpled beautiful…
Tommy swallowed, internally batting away the thought even as his cheeks flushed deep red, tail curling slightly around his own waist as his gaze tore away. Tommy let himself slip further into the depths of his mind, not really thinking of a specific thing until Purpled's hands gently coming to rest on his thighs after bandaging his feet drew him back.
“Anything under here I need to treat? Don't lie to me Tommy,” Purpled shifted forward enough so that Tommy could meet their eyes from where Tommy's head hung. Tommy's eyes briefly met theirs before pulling away again. Tommy gave a small dip of his head and Purpled gave a small smile in response, hands temporarily pulling away from his thighs.
“Can you take these off?” Purpled asked, voice cautious as their hands stayed firmly by their sides. Tommy only allowed himself to hesitate for a moment before his fingers carefully hooked into the waistband of his ripped pants, lifting his hips enough so he could wriggle out of his pants, leaving Tommy in just his boxers.
Tommy refused to even look at them as shame spread hot through him. These scars, these wounds, weren't from Dream, but from Tommy. Laid straight and deep across the tops and sides of his thighs. Some were healed over, ranging as far back as Pogtopia, but most were recent, especially the bad ones. Tommy had deserved them, deserved them because he’d been bad and Dream hadn't punished him enough. So he'd taken a bit of metal fragment from the explosion of his sword and had gotten to work correcting where Dream hadn't punished him enough.
Tommy couldn't help the sob that bubbled up in his throat, eyes squeezing shut as Purpled wiped away more dried blood. He felt like a child, a small pathetic child that would cry when something sounded even remotely similar to an explosion, waking up screaming when Wilbur closed a door too loudly.
Purpled's hands briefly paused though when a protest didn't befall their ears they continued, but Tommy could see the way their hands shook slightly, lingering too long on particularly bad ones.
Eventually Purpled pulled back and Tommy couldn’t stop the flow of words tumbling from his lips, sobs heaving from his chest before he could stop them, brushing through invisible fingers.
“I'm sorry, I'm so- I'm sorry,” Tommy’s words were a mix of wet coughs and soggy sobs, shoulders shaking hard as tears stained his cheeks. He rubbed at his face with the back of his wrist, succeeding in nothing but smearing the snot and tears further. For one moment, Purpled stood there.
The next moment their arms were around Tommy, not tight, giving Tommy the sense of freedom, enough for Tommy to find the comfort of positive touch he sought more than his own breath in his lungs.
Tommy wrapped his arms around them hard, fingers curling into the back of their hood, clawing desperately closer like if he were to let go the one person who's shown him kindness in months will disappear forever and Tommy will once again be alone.
Purpled held him as he cried, face turned into Tommy’s hair as Tommy buried his in their neck, the scent of lavender and the subtle scent of dog reaching his nose, surprisingly soothing. It reminded him of the way Henry used to smell, musky and like nature, Purpled’s hoodie as soft as his fur.
Eventually Tommy's sobs soothed out and when he pulled away, Purpled's breath was so close it tickled his face, sending a tingle of electricity down his spine. Soft fingers brushed his chin, gently tilting them up so blue met purple, with the other so close Tommy could see how their purple irises truly looked like the universe, dark purple with flecks and swirls of pink and magenta, finished with tiny specks of the most pure gold like constellations.
Tommy didn't need to ask, only needed to give a small tilt of his head before lips pressed soft against his forehead, slightly damp and unbearably loving as Tommy's eyes fluttered closed.
Tears warm as honey in the sun dripped down Tommy’s cheeks, Purpled’s lips drifting down to brush his cheeks, tongue gently brushing his skin through parting lips, gently tasting his tears. Tommy made a soft noise, not a protest, never a protest when it came to Purpled’s love, just a soft sound of enjoyment.
He didn't expect Purpled to be the one to love him but Tommy didn’t mind. Eventually Purpled’s lips reached his mouth and Tommy welcomed the warmth, the kindness, the closeness as his eyes temporarily fluttered open to see Purpled’s pale eye lashes before closing again.
Purpled’s hands slid to cup his face, holding him so dearly as they shifted to stand between his thighs, careful of the wrapped wounds as they gently pushed Tommy back against the down filled sheets, their tongue slipping through Tommy’s parted lips.
Tommy happily let Purpled’s hips settle between his thighs, one of Purpled’s hands slipping from his jaw to slide down Tommy’s side, coming to rest on Tommy’s hip, caressing gently as their lips moved together.
Soft gasps fell from Tommy’s lips between each kiss, welcoming it all up till a thrill of terror shot up his spine and Tommy couldn’t help but whimper in protest against Purpled’s mouth. All at once the weight of Purpled against him disappeared as the older pulled back, both their chests heaving for breath as Purpled stared down at Tommy, all four eyes wide with fear.
“Tommy,” they breathed, hands hovering close to Tommy’s cheeks as eyes flit over the fresh tears staining his cheeks, re-wetting where some had dried crusty.
“Sorry, I'm sorry,” Tommy sobbed, hand reaching blindly through blurry tears for Purpled's wrist, dragging them down gently onto the bed beside them and when Purpled hit the mattress, buried his face into the sweet smelling hoodie.
Purpled made a quiet, soothing sound as Tommy curled close, gripping the front of the sweater with shaking hands, the UFO on it becoming damp tears as Tommy sobs into the aliens chest. Purpled’s hand sunk into his hair, fingers gently curling into the soft curls and waves of Tommy’s dirty gold hair. As their fingers brushed through, Purpled gently eased out small sticks and leaves, making Tommy burrow even further against them as some of the itchiness and discomfort faded.
“I’m surprised you don’t have any lice,” Purpled’s voice was low in his ear, Tommy’s face flushing darker as he grumbled incoherently at the elder. Purpled chuckled in response, fingers trailing lightly down Tommy’s spine, a small shiver zipping down his back before Purpled shifted so Tommy was no longer pressed against them.
“Tommy, you need to shower,” Purpled murmured, thumb swiping across Tommy’s cheek bone, tracing the shape of a faded scar from The Disc War, one Purpled had inflicted themself on part of Dream. Before Dream had gone mad, before Purpled had lost their brother.
Back then, before Tommy was their friend, before Purpled found themself flushing purple around a starry eyed boy, they had been enemies, fighting for Tommy’s discs. Though it had never gone as far as Dream had, never meant to kill, not how Dream did, not how Dream had taken two of three of Tommy’s canon lives like they were nothing, ledger dripping dark with Tommy’s blood.
Tommy made a small sound in the back of his throat, still sat in just his boxers, hand fiddling with the edge of Purpled’s hoodie.
“Come on,” Purpled slowly got to their feet, hand slipping into Tommy’s to gently pull him up, bare and bandaged feet soft against hard wood as Purpled gently guided him towards the bathroom. In the tiled room, was a simple sink and one of those mirror cupboards above it, a toilet by the door and a shower in the far corner.
Purpled briefly left to get him clothes, returning with a pair of brown trackies, a new pair of boxers and a plain black t-shirt. Tommy took them with a mumbled thanks before Purpled nodded and left, eyes cast to the ground.
Tommy closed the door behind them, hand hesitating over the lock before pulling away. Tommy’s fingers brushed his boxers, the waistband hanging loosely on his hips after however long without proper meals had thinned his muscle.
The water felt unusually warm against his cold skin, unused to it after weeks of the cold sea. It ran over the waterproof bandages, dripping off muddy red on the white tiled floor. Tommy’s neck pressed against the too white, too clean, tiles of the shower, still cool against his skin as he slowly sunk down to be seated, chin resting on his knees.
The stream from the shower hit his mucky hair and once again the water ran brown, swirling around his feet before disappearing down the drain.
Tommy had no idea how much time had passed, hadn't even realised his eyes had closed until he heard insistent knocking on the bathroom door, knuckles rapping against smooth wood. Tommy inhaled sharply before coughing when he accidently inhaled the water dripping down his face; it was a surprise he hadn't drowned at this rate. Tommy huffed softly at the thought, maybe then he wouldn't have to hurt.
“Yes?” Tommy called weakly, lifting his head from his knees, blinking through streaming water. The knocking stopped, Purpled’s voice filtering the thin cracks.
“Tommy? You OK in there?” Purpled asked, voice laden with concern. The handle of the door twisted with a click, though it didn't open, remaining closed and keeping Tommy’s space private. Tommy shakily rose to his feet, careful not to slip on the wet floor as he turned off the water.
“Fine,” Tommy called back through the door, stepping out of the shower and grabbing the soft white towel that was sat folded on the kitchen bench.
Tommy’s eyes flicked up and he was met with his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Its been weeks since he last saw his reflection properly but now he was finally looking at it, he could barley recognise himself.
Blue eyes had faded to grey, the bags beneath his eyes were heavy and dark and his golden hair looked more of straw or dirty blond rather than the sun like it had used to. But on his neck, on his neck, freshly healed and scarred, but a pale, sickly green against his skin, a smiley face was carved. Tommy remembered all too well how he had gotten it, a rough hand in his hair, knees pinning down his hands and a sharp dagger cutting, slicing, maiming and marking Tommy’s once pure skin.
Tommy felt as if Dream’s hands were on him again, grabbing and pulling, ripping chunks of curls from his scalp and knives twisting sharp and deep in his skin, carving out chunks like somebody would carve a steak. Nails curled sharp into his arms, unable to draw his eyes away from the smile, never able to look away from such a maiming thing until a towel, soft and gentle, was tied around his waist.
Tommy’s elbow flew back, sharp and fast, aiming for soft flesh and ribs before a gentle palm caught it. Tommy’s heart pounded in his chest like bees trapped in a hive, spinning to face whoever had dared touch him, fist swinging and pausing just centimeters from Purpled's nose.
They didn't even flinch, eyes flicking across Tommy’s face at they held the towel steady around Tommy's waist.
“Tommy.” They said and the tone made Tommy want to cry, far too soft for somebody as hard as Tommy. Ha. Not ha that was a stupid joke. “Come on, you're cold.” Purpled murmured, pushing a fabric into his arms and upon realisation, it was Purpled's classic purple UFO hoodie.
Tommy stared down at the fabric, palms open and facing up as Purpled's hoodie hung in them. Purpled sighed, taking the hoodie back.
“Lift your arms,” Purpled murmured and Tommy obeyed, lifting his arms so Purpled could drag the hoodie down over his head. Tommy made a small noise when it briefly caught on his nose, Purpled’s hands gently unhooking it as they pull it the rest on the way down. Tommy makes a face at them as they reach up to kiss his nose, though it was fond.
“That’s gay.” Tommy muttered and Purpled chuckled softly in response, adjusting the hoodie around Tommy’s waist.
“Get dressed properly, I’ll be waiting in our room,” Purpled muttered instead of responding to his remark, hands pulling away as they turned and left, the door shutting behind them with a gentle click. Tommy reached for the small pile of clothes on the bathroom bench, slipping the boxers and trackies on, ditching the towel on the floor with his dirty clothes as he left the bathroom.
Purpled was sat on the bed doing something on their communicator, Tommy’s other dirty clothes gone and the first aid stuff packed up and away. Purpled glanced up as he entered, a soft smile on their face as Tommy sunk down on the sheets next to them.
“I’m going to sleep,” Tommy muttered, kicking the blankets down so he could slide under them. The fabric was soft, softer than anything Tommy had felt in a while and Tommy relished in the feeling of it against his skin, as strange as it was. Purpled stood, bed creaking slightly and grabs the hem of the blanket, dragging it properly over Tommy. Tommy couldn’t help but be amused by the aspect, being tucked in like a child by his former enemy.
“What, going to give me a little forehead kiss as well?” Tommy teased, for the first time today a grin spreading across bitten lips, despite the fact he had a breakdown less than an hour ago, it was surprising he was in such a good mood. Oh well, he must just be overtired. Or super duper cool and ignoring breakdowns.
“Maybe, will you sleep tight? Not let the bed bugs bite?” Purpled laughed, keeping the blanket across Tommy’s shoulders as they lean down to press their lips to his forehead. A giggle bubbled in Tommy’s chest as they did, tail twitching beneath the sheets, pressing himself deeper into the mattress. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.” Purpled murmured softly, already moving off.
“Join me, my friend,” Tommy patted his hand on the spot next to him, what he assumed was Purpled’s usual spot from the way the maroon pillow case was more crinkled than the one Tommy had. “The beasts of the night will get you on the couch.”
“The beasts of the night?” Purpled laughed, turning back towards Tommy with a crooked eyebrow. They climbed up onto the bed besides Tommy, settling down on top of the blankets on their side, gazing at Tommy’s now clean face.
“Mhm, the night beasts, they stand in the corner of the room and watch you sleep,” Tommy hummed, pulling the blankets from beneath Purpled and then throwing them over them. Purpled huffed as it landed on them tangled, grabbing the hem of the down filled sheets and adjusting them smoothly.
Tommy left out the fact that when he was a child, small and following after his big brother, he hadn’t believed in these ‘night monsters’, believing they were nothing more but stories his brothers told to make him too afraid to come bother them at night.
That was until exile, when the night monster came to be real, lurking in the shadows with a smile so wide and a pale white face that always felt as if it were staring directly into Tommy’s very fabric of being, prying out all his secrets like they were ticks to be pulled. It had always stood in the corner of Tommy’s tent, staring as he would sleep on his rickety cot. He would fall asleep staring at it and when he woke up drowning, it was always staring from the shore.
When Purpled finally settled beneath the sheets, Tommy didn’t hesitate to curl close, Purpled’s hand darting out to grab his arm and pull him softly against their chest, Tommy’s head resting against Purpled’s bare bicep rather than a pillow, the smell of the alien washing over him like a blanket of caring.
“Going to cuddle me all night?” Purpled murmured, their breath warming his face further. Tommy hummed softly, a small smile creeping across his face as his eyes fluttered shut, breaths puffing against Purpled’s chest.
Tommy knew that finally, finally, for the first time in months, he could finally rest without fearing for his life.