Chapter Text
Tommy was five years old when his father abandoned him and his brothers. He remembers that day so clearly – as if it was yesterday – and not six years ago.
"Hi, daddy! Hi! Hi! How are you this morning?" Tommy asks Phil, his father, as the older man makes himself a cup of coffee.
Phil sighs irritably and turns to look at Tommy, glaring at the three-year-old as he sits down at the table in the center of the kitchen. Tommy didn't notice his father's glare and continued to talk about how his morning had been since he woke up earlier that morning. Much to his father's annoyance.
"And Techie showed me how to use a sword, but it was too heavy for me, so I just watched him instead! Also! Daddy, Wilby kept laughing at me and kept saying that I looked stupid! Can you tell him to be nice? I don't like it when he's mean to me." Tommy's tiny wings drooped sadly as he finished talking.
Phil runs his hands through his hair and rests his head in his hands. "Just shut up, Tommy! Gods! Will you ever learn to shut up?" Phil looks up to see Tommy's eyes widen, tears forming as he starts to cry.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll learn to be quiet. I won't bother you ever again, okay?" Tommy turns around and starts walking towards his room, but is stopped by his father's yelling.
"No, go outside! I don't want you running around the house and dirtying it! Stay out until I tell you to come back in!" The wings on Phil's back flare up, making him look like the scariest person Tommy's ever seen, and Tommy screams in horror before running outside. He slams the door behind him and starts sobbing as he runs through the snow-covered field that surrounds his family's house and into the dense forest that surrounds those fields.
The next time Phil sees Tommy is a week later when he knocks on the door and asks to come in, snow covering his entire body and his lips slightly blue.
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"What the fuck, Tommy?! What is wrong with you?!" Wilbur shouts as he picks up his broken guitar; the strings pop out of place as Tommy eyes it with tears in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Wilby! I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"
Wilbur grabs Tommy by the arm and shoves the guitar in his arms. "Well, it better be fixed by the time I get back, you little shit."
When Wilbur tells their father what Tommy did, Tommy is punished. No food or water for a week, clean the house and stables, and care for the animals. It's hell, but Tommy's used to it by now.
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Whenever Tommy gets in trouble, he runs outside now. Phil always makes him stay outside in the snow for a few days when he gets punished, and Wilbur always tattles on him to Phil anyway, so he just expects it at this point. Technoblade never talks to Tommy, and when he does, he tells him to shut up, to get out of his way, or to get out of the room so he can talk to Phil or Wilbur privately.
The one time Tommy ran to him for help after getting hit by Wilbur and Phil, Technoblade just dragged him back into the house.
Then, Phil hit him more for bothering Techno in the first place.
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"Hurry up, Tommy! We're going to be late for the train!" Wilbur yells from the bottom of the stairs. He has a backpack hanging around his shoulders, a child's suitcase in his right hand, and another slightly bigger suitcase in his left.
A woman with orangish-red hair stands at his left, an annoyed look on her face as she waits for the second-youngest Craft family, tapping her boot on the floor impatiently. A pair of fox ears sits atop her head. A three-year-old stands between the couple, his burnt orange ears standing straight up as he quietly waits for Tommy. It's a few years later. Tommy is seven years old. It's been four years since Phil and Techno walked out on the family. Wilbur married a beautiful woman named Sally a few months afterward, and they gave birth to their son Fundy a few months after that.
"He's so slow," Sally complains, lovingly running her manicured hands through Fundy's hair and ruffling the boy's hair. Fundy playfully swats his mother's hands away, and they quietly laugh. Wilbur watches them fondly, but turns back to the stairs where he hears Tommy coming down.
"Sorry, I couldn't find Henry," Tommy mutters as he slings a small bag of his clothes over his shoulder.
Wilbur roughly grabs the collar of his shirt and leans in close. "If we end up missing the train, you're getting punished again. Do you understand me?" Tommy nods, his shoulders drooping as he follows his family out of the house and into the snow.
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"Not good enough! Again!" Wilbur shouts, his hands tightening as he claps them together. "Your duel with Dream is tomorrow! I need you to be able to kill him with one shot!"
Tommy groans, his shoulders dropping as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. "Wilbur, please! I'm tired!"
Tommy is hit for not listening. He practices for a few more hours before Wilbur eventually calls him in for the night, despite how terrible he thinks his shots are.
The next day, Tommy loses the duel, but L'manberg still gets its independence. The wound in Tommy's arm prevents him from doing much for the next few months, but Wilbur 'encourages' him to do more.
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Techno aims his crossbow at Toby. A wicked smile on his face as he places a firework where an arrow should be. He shoots without thinking, and Toby falls to the ground, covered in burn marks and completely singed as he dies on the spot.
"See, Tommy. What did I tell you? Friends make you weak. He was a traitor too." Wilbur mutters from behind him, smirking evilly as he watches Tommy mourn his one and only friend.
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Tears rolled down Tommy's cheeks as he watched Dream, Wilbur, Phil, and Technoblade bomb L'Manberg with wide, horrified eyes. “No, no, no, no, no! No, please!” Tommy begged as he watched his brothers and father talk to each other as they laid more bombs everywhere.
Dream watched Tommy from afar, twirling his sword in his hands as he carefully thought about what he was going to do next. Tommy didn’t see him coming. He barely dodged the swing of the older man’s sword. Tommy begged for his own life – instead of L’Manberg’s - as he dodged Dream’s sword time after time. His wings fluttered as he tried to use them to fly away, but they were too weak. The rain made his feathers heavier, and Tommy never used his wings to begin with, so he had no way to get away from Dream’s sword.
“Dad! Wilbur! Techno! Help me! Please!” Tommy continued to beg, barely dodging Dream’s sword again. Tears ran down his cheeks and he sobbed as he danced around Dream.
Wilbur only rolled his eyes before going back to what he was doing. Technoblade just laughed and joined in on Dream’s game. Phil, Tommy’s father, just watched, his face serious as he seriously considered helping his youngest son. The thought left his head as quickly as it came and he turned away to continue helping Wilbur.
Technoblade came up behind Tommy, grabbing the youngest Craft member by the neck and holding him up with one arm. Tommy squirmed in his brother’s hold as he begged Dream not to kill him.
“Now, why would I do that, Tommy? You know how much I hate you, so why would I not take the opportunity to kill you while I have you here now?” Technoblade dropped his brother, making the youngest kneel before Dream.
Tommy’s cries went silent as Dream swung his sword and chopped off Tommy’s head in one clean swoop.