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Chapter Text

His shirt stuck to his back under the hot sunlight as he walked down the streets of the city - but he did not remove the scarf around his neck. The sun was blisteringly hot - then again, it was always blisteringly hot during the summer. It had taken him two years to get used to it properly. He still hated the heat, even now. It stuck to his - well...it didn't matter, now. He could feel the ingrain of it stuck on his chest, sweat pouring down his skin, flattening his hair, and dirtying his clothes further. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Tubbo slipping through the crowd. He wanted to keep the shorter boy within his viewing range, but knew that it was stupid to try - and besides, they had a job to do. 

His eyes roamed the market square, trying to find a suitable target. 

No, that one had an assortment of guards surrounding him. 

No, that woman looked just a threadbare as him - and he didn't like stealing from those in similar situations. 

No, that person looked dangerous - besides the pink hair and all that. Tommy didn't even know if he could lift a sword like that. His hands grew sweaty just thinking about swords. He didn't want to think about them - but here he was, thinking about them. The heat didn't help. He closed his eyes and licked at his chapped lips, trying to push the memories away. 

There.  There . A man with a nice yellow sweater and his wallet half sticking out of his pants. Tommy started heading towards him, his hands in his own pockets, looking around - as if he was some average boy. Part of him was glad that he'd washed his hair that morning; perhaps for the first time in months. No, it was definitely for the first time in months. Tubbo had managed to steal some soap from the day before. 

He was rambling. He had an issue like that. Not that he was going to fix it, of course, because he only ever spent time with Tubbo, and Tubbo rambled about other things. It came with speaking too little as children, he supposed. 

The yellow-sweatered man was by the bread station. Tommy pretended he was looking at the jewelry stands; at the clothing stalls - he let out a breath. He was experienced with this. He just didn't know why this time it felt so different. 

He was casual as usual and pretended to stumble and bump into the man, putting out a hand on the shoulder of the yellow sweater, his other hand nimbly reaching and grabbing the wallet. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, and the man scowled at him as he walked away, fighting the small grin on his face as his fingertips touched the soft leather of the wallet now safely in his pocket. 

"HEY! THIEF!"

He spun - but it wasn't directed at him. It was directed at Tubbo, only his frantic movement had caused the attention of the yellow-sweatered man to turn to him, whose hand delved into his pocket and then narrowed on Tommy.

He panicked. Pushed through the crowd. He could hear someone running after him, but even though he was tall, he managed to be quite lithe as he moved through the people with ease, fluidly ducking under arms and jumping over barrels as people started shouting. 

There was another man. Chasing after Tubbo. Black hair, a white bandana around his head. Tommy moved to follow him, but was quickly cut off by the yellow-sweatered man, who appeared from nowhere.

His neck itched, but he had no time for that as he bolted, casting one last glance over his shoulder, seeing Tubbo disappearing around a corner, a raven-haired man in a white t-shirt hot on his heels. He wanted to go after Tubbo, but the yellow-sweatered man was chasing him out of the market square in the opposite direction and he had to run and hope that Tubbo could get out of his situation as well.

He cursed inwardly and ran on. His neck was burning now - as if something hot had touched it. He wouldn't have been surprised if the burning itchiness had been on his chest - but his neck had never hurt like this before. 

He was so busy paying attention to the sensation on the lower back of his head that he ran directly into someone in a red coat and bearing pink hair. The stupid scarf was covering it and making it hotter - but he knew he couldn't remove it, not here, not when there were so many people around.

He stumbled back and fell onto his ass, rubbing his forehead and scrambling up, muttering an apology and turning - only to come face-to-face with the person he'd stolen the wallet from.

"Give it back," the yellow-sweatered man demanded. 

Tommy yelped and backed away - right into the person he'd crashed into, whirling.

" This  nerd stole your wallet?" the pink-haired man said in a low voice, curiousness radiating from him. 

"He's making wild accusations!" Tommy yelped. "I would  never ."

"Yeah, that doesn't fool me," the pink-haired man said, snorting softly. "Wilbur knows what he's doing."

"Fucking doubt it," Tommy muttered, his neck prickling. "FUCKING DAMMIT! WOULD YOU FUCKING STOP!" He hit the side of his head, trying to force the pain away, and then he realized he probably looked crazy, because he'd essentially just yelled at nobody. 

"Give it back," the one that the pink-haired man had named Wilbur demanded again.

"Give what back?" he muttered.

The eyes of the pink-haired man flashed, and his hand came up, and Tommy felt a rush of pain - and then blackness.

" - fucking kidnap a  child ?" someone said loudly, and Tommy winced as he woke up slowly. He was in a room - oh, shit,  right , he'd been caught. Glancing around, it was a basement with dark stone walls and caskets and barrels of who-knows-what on the other side. A single, cold chain led from his wrist to a wall.

He heard the voices of people talking through the floorboards.

"He stole my wallet!"

That was the one the pink-haired man had named Wilbur, he was sure of it.

The chain was cold around his wrist. He had to get out of here, had to get out of here before the memories kept flooding back. Tommy stared at his left hand, trying not to swear loudly as the prickling sensation came back onto his neck.  Dammit!  It had never hurt like this before. But it wasn't like he could afford a visit to a physician. He shook it off and went back to the chain that was attached to his wrist. It was a bit loose - not loose enough to slip off - but loose enough so he could do the same thing he'd done hundreds of times in the past before they'd chained his hands behind his back.

He took a deep breath, grabbed his finger, and  yanked  it harshly, barely managing to hold a whimper and biting his lip as he dislocated it. The tremors of pain slipped up his arm in waves as he shook the chain off, slamming his hand into the ground and slipping his thumb back into the socket. The relief was immediate - so quick he almost gasped, but he kept his silence. The dull ache was still there, and from experience, he knew it would be there awhile.

Luckily, they hadn't taken his scarf, so he shifted it back into place. It had been a gift from Tubbo, and hid his past, and he didn't want it removed for anything. He got to his feet and made his way over to the door, feeling the grin slide onto his face - until he was halfway across the basement and the door opened to reveal three people on the other side.

He froze. They stared at him. Wilbur looked angry, the pink-haired man looked surprised, and he couldn't really discern the look on the face of the last man - an older one with blonde hair and a white and green bucket hat.

"Well, this is awkward," he said.

Wilbur hissed, his eyes going to the chain that was behind Tommy. "How did you get out?"

He shrugged, trying not to seem like he was panicking. He had to get out of here - get out before they sent him back.  Get out . The voice rang in his head for the first time in many years - and that was when he knew it was bad. He forced a grin onto his face. "I just slipped out. You should make your chains better."

"That's not true at all, I did it myself," the pink-haired man said.

"So?" Tommy said, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't mean shit. Maybe you're just bad at locking people in basements."

The pink-haired man stepped closer, into Tommy's personal space, and he tried to act calm, as if he wasn't panicking.

"Techno..." the blonde-haired man murmured.

The pink-haired man named Techno made a move  just  too quickly, then, a  tad  too fast in Tommy's direction, and he freaked out, throwing a punch. Techno saw it coming, and grabbed for Tommy's wrist - but he knew how to fight people with faster reactions and he let Techno catch his right wrist before it hit Techno's right cheek and then barrelled forward and smashed his elbow into Techno's nose.

Techno let go of his arm. Tommy backed up, breathing quickly, watching as Techno reached a hand up to rub at the blood that was trickling down his face from his nose.

"Pretty good, nerd."

Oh shit, I'm so fucking dead -

"Techno, stop it."

Techno snorted and rolled his eyes, using the corner of his red cape to blot at his nose. "He gave me a bloody nose."

"You scared him," the blonde-haired man said.

"He did not!" Tommy said hotly. "Nothing scares me."

Techno stared at him with eyes that unsettled Tommy greatly - even if he would never show it. "You should be scared, nerd. You should be."

He huffed. "Well, I'm not. Where the fuck am I, anyway? You got your stupid fucking wallet back, bitch." The last part was directed at Wilbur. Tommy didn't even have to check the pocket of his ragged coat to know that it was gone and in the hands of its owner.

"I want to know how you did it," Wilbur said harshly.

Tommy blinked, a bit of sweat beading at his forehead. "W-what?"

"How you managed to take it," Wilbur said, reaching into his pocket and taking out the item. 

"I reached into your pocket and stole it," he said blatantly.

Wilbur shook his head. "There was no way I didn't see you."

"Maybe you're just bad," he pointed out, causing Techno to laugh and reach over and shove the tallest man. 

Wilbur glared at the pink-haired man. "This isn't funny, kid."

"I'm not a  kid ," he sputtered. "I'm sixteen." That made the the eldest one blink in surprise, his forehead crinkling just a bit. But Tommy saw it. Sure, he'd known he was scrawny and thin, but he was tall too. The larger clothes hid his small frame. 

He hated being called a kid.

"That's still a kid,  kid ," Techno said.

"Whatever," he said. "Why the fuck am I here?"

The three men exchanged looks. "Are you by chance an Elementalist?" the blonde-haired one, whose name was still unknown, asked. 

Tommy stiffened, rage and anger filling him. The pounding on his neck grew louder in his ears, and his lip curled in disgust. " Fuck  no." The lie came easy to him - had always come easy to him.

"You're lying," Wilbur accused.

He raised his chin and stared at the taller man. "You don't know that."

"I do," Wilbur said.

"You don't know me," he said. "You don't know I'm lying." He glanced at the three of them. "I do not have any magic. Don't rope me in with those guys."

"You make it seem as if  we're  the bad guys," Techno scoffed. 

Of course, they were Elementalists. Why  wouldn't  they be? His lip curled further, making his distaste clear to the world. "Well, you're anything but heroes."

"You're not a hero," Wilbur said, sounding angry. The blonde-haired put a hand on his shoulder. Something about that movement made Tommy's heart pang roughly.

"At least I don't pretend to be," he said nastily. "At least I'm not a farce."

"Look, kid, I don't know what your problem is," Techno said roughly. "But you can't steal Wil's stuff and expect to waltz away from it and then talk badly about Elementalists."

"I mean, I did expect to walk away," he said with a small shrug. "And I'm still going to. I don't give a fuck about Elementalists, and I am  not  one of you. You're the ones that kidnapped me for absolutely no reason."

"You stole my stuff," Wilbur interjected.

"An eye for an eye makes the world blind," he said easily, and he was surprised when Techno's astonished gaze flew up to meet his. "And heroes don't go for revenge."

"Maybe you're right, then," the blonde-haired man said. "Maybe we're not heroes."

He started walking and they let him pass him. He bumped roughly into Wilbur - entirely on purpose, and the man let out a grunt of surprise. As he reached the door, he turned around and looked back at them. "You aren't. Stop pretending to be."

He left them in the basement and walked up the stairs and out the closest door. He felt a silent grin of victory as he walked out the house, the hand in his pocket touching the reclaimed wallet of the bitch boy Wilbur. He wasn't  going  to do it, but Wilbur had been a fucking loser towards him, and he'd just happened to bump into the taller man and the wallet had just been  there .

Besides, he needed the money.

That wasn't important though. Maybe in a bit, but not now. Tommy ran the rest of the way back to his and Tubbo's home, scrambling up the drain pipes and onto the roof that they stayed at. 

"TUBBO?" he shouted, ducking underneath the eaves.

The boy in question looked up at his shouting, his blue eyes filled with relief as he got up and all but threw himself at Tommy, his own scarf slapping Tommy in his face as Tubbo whipped around. "Oh my god, you're okay, I thought you were dead and it would have been all my fault - "

"Stop being so clingy," Tommy grumbled, but he hugged Tubbo for about ten more seconds before finally stepping aside. "And come  on , Tubbo, I'm a Big Man! I'd never die."

Tubbo frowned seriously. "I was still worried, though."

"You shouldn't have been."

"But I was."

"Then you're stupid."

Tubbo huffed. "Those guys chasing me were Elementalists."

Tommy blinked in surprise. "Yeah, the guys who got me were Elementalists as well." He massaged his thumb; it was still sore from dislocating it. "They kidnapped me."

Tubbo blinked. "Are you okay?"

He forced a laugh out. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it -

"You sure?"

He sat down against the wall on the single blanket they shared and stared at the mirror on the opposite wall. He slowly reached up and undid the knot on his red scarf, letting it fall onto his hands. Immediately, his throat felt cooler, and he wished that he didn't have to wear the stupid article of clothing all the time. 

His reflection in the mirror spoke volumes, though - and it was better for him and Tubbo to keep it hidden.

To keep the white scars around their necks from metal cutting into skin hidden.

To keep the small, white birthmark in the shape of a sapling, on the back of his neck, shielded from the Elementalists so they wouldn't separate him from his best friend - who also had magic, in one point and time; shown in the white birthmark of a bee on his neck. 

Because that was all that Elementalists did. Separate families. 

Chapter Text

He should have known that after their double encounter with Elementalists that their lives would never be the same again. He should have known - but he hadn't.

And now Tubbo was gone. He'd been missing for maybe three weeks; gone from a trip to the market that he'd said he would return quickly from.

Tommy had looked for hours at a time, until he fell asleep and nearly fell off the roof, exhaustion waining on him. Then he'd continued looking for maybe a week more - until he'd realized that there was no hope. There was no trace, nothing to go off of - Tubbo was just  gone . 

He sat in the darkness of their shared hut in utter despair, hunger curling in his stomach - but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

His best friend - his  only  friend - was gone. Gone like the sun at the end of the day, but that returned. Gone like the wind through the meadows,  gone  like the fading howl of a wolf in the forest. 

They had been through everything together. They had been childhood friends. They had saved each others' lives on multiple occasions. 

So why...why had it ended like this?

Hatred and self-loathing filled him, his nails cutting deeply into his palms. He should have never let Tubbo get away from him. He should have never let the shorter boy out of his sight. He felt the tears start to slick his face and he wiped them away angrily.

No, that wasn't fair to Tubbo. Tommy let out a breath. Even so, he should have never let it happen. He'd been crying too much too often. 

There was a loud banging noise outside. He almost didn't head towards it.

Almost.

Still, he was human, and curiosity got the better of him. He got up, ignoring the cramps that had formed from sitting curled on the blanket that he'd once shared with Tubbo, and ducked under the overhang of aluminum that protected them -  him  - from the elements. He walked to the edge of the rooftop, glancing down into the alleyway below him and trying not to slip off the bricks, wet from the new rain. 

"I don't want to hurt you, mate," the man from a month earlier, who he hadn't heard of or seen since, was saying, his hands held up in defense - though Tommy saw the sword strapped to his waist. The guy was an Elementalist - he could protect himself, especially from the gang of street kids that Tommy was familiar with - briefly. He'd seen them harassing people a few times, though never Elementalists.

Though, he had to admit, the bucket-hat man didn't look like an Elementalist. He didn't have the usual robes, nor the pushy behavior - and he didn't flaunt the back of his neck. In fact, he wore a high-collared green jacket. 

Tommy wouldn't have really cared, except for the fact that these particular people - there were four of them - were a bit off in his book. They were parentless, like him and Tubbo, but he was pretty sure that he had coped a lot better than he had, because he hadn't gone batshit crazy and they had. 

They were pickpockets, just as he was, but unlike him and Tubbo, they spent the majority of their money on bread and seemed to be obsessed with it. The leader, Kash, seemed to have collected a group of followers - and if Tommy didn't know better, he would've said they were a cult. Despite knowing better, he still thought they were a cult. Her second-in-command, a tall girl named Anna, was the only reason that he and the  Bread Gang/Cult were rivals, because she'd tried to pickpocket the person that he'd wanted to steal from. The third one, a short blonde-haired girl named Asy - that wasn't her full name, but that was the only name that Tommy knew her by - was one of those girls that scared Tommy because she was short and would actually try to steal your kneecaps if she got angry enough. The final one, a girl named Sylvie, was leaning against the wall, eating a piece of toast from in between her hands. 

Tommy really wanted that bread. Especially the bread he knew that Kash had in her pack. He was hungry, and he'd lost Tubbo, and because he'd been so busy searching, he'd lost his source of income - stealing. 

He was sure Kash wouldn't mind. Actually, Kash would mind. Kash cared more about bread than shelter for the night. 

Tommy made the split-second decision and grasped the drainpipe by the wall, sliding down it and landing semi-gracefully in front of the blonde-haired man.

Kash didn't really looked surprised, reaching up and pushing her shoulder-length black hair out of her face. "Hey, Tommy." She glanced around. "Where's your sidekick?"

Tommy winced. "Kash, what are you doing?"

"Getting more bread, what does it look like I'm doing?" Kash sighed, and Anna nodded eagerly by her side. 

"Look, kid, I don't know why you're so obsessed with bread - " the man behind Tommy said.

"Exactly what I was saying!" Tommy groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Kash, you don't want to mess with him."

"Why not?" Asy asked curiously, her eyes narrowing.

"He's an Elementalist."

That got their attention real quick, and Kash put up her hands and started to back away. "O-okay. Sorry, dude, don't want to mess with you - my bad." She gave a small thankful nod to Tommy before running off, the last one to leave, Sylvie, wolfing down the rest of her bread and turning the corner with only a small glare in Tommy's direction. 

"What happened?" the man behind him asked curiously, and Tommy moved away from him, still wary.

"They're scared of you," he said by way of explanation. "I'm not. But they are."

"Why?"

"Because you're an Elementalist. People are afraid of you."

The man just looked perturbed. "What?"

Tommy felt taken aback. "Did you not know that? People are terrified of your powers. Of you can do."

"And you're not?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," he said, fear curling in his gut. The wind blew in his ear harshly, as if to fortify the lie. 

The man looked at him, and then held out his hand. "We've never formally met before - Tommy, was it? I'm Phil."

Tommy swallowed, looking down at the pro-offered hand. "Um..."

Phil withdrew his hand. "It's okay, mate. I know you don't trust me."

Tommy snorted. "Of course I don't." Phil didn't seem hurt by that motion. "Well, thanks anyway."

The man with the bucket-hand seemed confused by that statement. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

Tommy grinned as he walked away from Phil, holding up a small pouch of coins he'd stolen from Phil when he'd been shouting at Kash. "Nah, man. You just bought me my lunch."

As he ran away, he could have sworn he heard someone laughing. Phil didn't chase after him - he didn't seem mad like Wilbur. Tommy felt the grin widen on his face as he palmed the coins and stuffed it into the pocket of his second-hand cloak. 

Today was a good day.

Not the best, because his best friend was still gone. At that thought, the grin slid off his face and he fell back into his foul mood. 

He had to find Tubbo. Find Tubbo before it was too late. 

The Elementalists usually kept to themselves, at the University across the city. They were high and mighty - didn't come down to the poor areas where Tommy lived.

So he was surprised when he kept seeing Phil, Wilbur, and Techno. Over and over. His neck started hurting terribly, and he would wake up in the middle of the night to a flash of light that would quickly fade to darkness. He didn't know if he was dreaming or not when that happened - it was always a memory; a repeated dream - or had it really happened?

The weather got warmer, approaching midsummer. He shed his coat for a red and white shirt and a pair of tan pants. His scarf remained on, now more than ever, because Tubbo had given it to him. 

Without Tubbo he had nightmares. Dreams of a place from long ago. Chains and screams and an arena of sand. Voices shouting numbers and letters - hands moving swiftly across puzzles, and an hourglass with black trickling sand. Blood and screams and other children with large scared eyes. 

Without Tubbo he was alone.

He began to follow Phil around everywhere, whenever he could. Techno could always sense that he was there, though Tommy wasn't sure if the pink-haired man ever saw it was him. Whenever he was near them, the back of his neck would burn and itch and it always confused him. 

It got bad. Bad to the point that he would curl up in a ball with tears streaming down his face while trying not to scream at the extreme pain that ran up his neck and into his head. Bad to the point that he didn't want to eat and would dry-heave when he didn't throw up the rest of it.

Bad to the point that he had daydreams and flashbacks to a place four years ago. Bad to the point that he remembered things he'd forgotten, and hoped to forget forever. Bad to a point that he would wake up shaking and crying and seeing glimpses of cages and cold stone walls. 

He began to hate the Elementalists - the three of them. Wilbur was an asshole, and Techno was inconsiderate, and Phil had seemed nice - but clearly they were pulling a fast one on him, and he couldn't  focus  on finding Tubbo if his damned neck hurt all the time. 

So he confronted them.

Looking back, perhaps that wasn't the smartest of ideas. 

The three Elementalists were walking down an alley near midnight. They did that a lot, and Tommy didn't know what they were doing - they came from outside the gates - but he had no idea what could possibly be out there besides monsters and men who were monsters as well. 

It was Techno, as he'd done so many times before when Tommy had followed him, who caught on, who stopped in his tracks and forced Wilbur and Phil to stop after him.

"Someone's following us," was all the pink-haired man said, reaching for his sword.

Tommy slid down the drainpipes behind them, his neck itching and burning as usual. It had become sort of the norm to feel the pain. He was getting back to being used to it. 

Techno spun fluidly, and relaxed when he saw Tommy.

"You're following us," Wilbur said flatly.

"Yes," he said.

"Why?" Phil asked. "You've been doing it a lot."

Tommy blinked - he'd thought only Techno had noticed. "Yes," he said again.

Wilbur laughed. "What, you think we didn't know?"

"I think you're stupid," Tommy said. "I think that I stole your wallet twice and you didn't notice both times." Wilbur glared at him. "So yes, I think it was possible you didn't notice me following you."

"Why?" Phil asked patiently.

"Can you stop it?" he asked.

"What?" Techno asked blankly.

He sneered at them. "Stop whatever witchcraft you're doing. Stop the fucking pain in my neck."

Phil's head whipped around to stare at him. "Excuse me?"

He swallowed, suddenly feeling as if the alley walls were closer, as if they were closing in on him. "Whenever I get near you my neck hurts."

"So you  are  an Elementalist," Wilbur said. 

His mouth fell open. They couldn't  know , could they? Couldn't know about the sapling on his neck? Couldn't know a thing, they didn't know  him . "No. I'm not a fucking Elementalist."

"You're lying," Techno said coolly.

"You have a mark on your neck, don't you?" Phil said lightly. "Under that scarf you always wear...rain or shine."

"Is that related to it?" he said weakly. "Because it fucking hurts."

"How long has it been hurting?" Phil asked.

"Maybe three weeks," he said.

"Three  weeks ?" Wilbur gasped, finally looking some emotion other than anger and hatred. "How does it not hurt?"

"I don't know if you fucking heard me earlier, dipshit," he snapped. "But it  does  fucking hurt. And I want you to stop."

"I can't stop it," Phil said. "It hurts because you're away from us. It hurts because you're part of our coven."

Tommy's mouth fell open. No  fucking  way. There was no way.

Clearly, Wilbur had the same idea, because he rounded on Phil furiously. "There's no fucking way that that demonic... that gremlin  child  could be part of our coven. He's never even been to the University!"

"For once, I agree with the asshole," Tommy said. "I think I can deal with the pain, actually. Bye!"

He turned and ran.

And like the bitch he was, Techno ran after him.

Okay, Tommy had to admit that Techno was a far better athlete than him. But Techno didn't know the city like he did, and so Tommy would have to take the route that he did to get rid of officials who would chase him after a stealing attempt went wrong.

Of course, he forgot that Techno, was, of course, an Elementalist.

And so when he made to leave the alleyway, a wall of fire burst to life in front of him. It was only meant to scare him - it was a good ten feet away. Nothing more. A stupid person would stumble into it. Tommy wasn't stupid, and he managed to stop.

But the heat and the pain combined reminded him of things he didn't want to be reminded of. It reminded him of what he had been trying to forget - what Tubbo had helped him forget simply by being there. Being alone made him think harder. Being alone was killing him inside.

So Tommy closed his eyes and screamed. 

Chapter Text

He knew that he wasn't at his home base when he woke up; when there was an actual mattress under him that he hadn't felt for real in years and years. He jolted awake, tiredness forgotten, his eyes adjusting to the bright light shining through the open curtains. 

It was just a normal bedroom.

Well, normal for other people. Tommy hadn't slept in a bedroom in - well, ever, really. There were blue covers and a grey carpet and matching blue curtains that weren't doing their job properly 'cause they were open and letting light shine in.

Dimly, Tommy realized that he was in the same house that he'd gotten kidnapped to weeks earlier, which meant that the low voices that he hears are probably the bitches Phil, Techno, and Wilbur.

He froze as he realized that his scarf wasn't around his neck anymore, and he leaped for where it was sitting; on the desk, tying it back around his neck and throwing one of the ends of the length over his shoulder like he'd done a thousand times before.

They saw. They  saw , they'd  seen it,  they were going to - no, no. Even if they were Elementalists, they wouldn't bring him back there. There were three separate parties here. The Elementalists, the Pit Dealers, and his party. Which was him and Tubbo.

His hand came up and felt under his scarf at the small raised white scars on his neck. He knew that they saw them. The scars are very visible. They are noticeable.

They are part of the reason he wore the scarf.

The second part was because of his Elementalist mark. The mark that should have determined him to go to the University. The mark that was passed through genes from his mother and had kept him alive for years in the Pit. The mark that had kept him alive and made him regret every moment of living. 

He walked over to the window and felt his heart sink at the metal pieces that crisscross across the glass. It was the style nowadays; hadn't been put there specifically for him. But he saw the streets below, and the small amount of roofing below the window and knew that if it opened like a shutter did and there weren't any metal bits he could have gotten away.

"Trying to run again?"

He jumped, panicking, his hand clamping around a sword that didn't exist anymore, and he came face-to-face with Phil, who was standing about five feet away, his hands tucked into his green cloak leisurely. He frowned at Tommy's reaction, but didn't mention it. 

"Let me out," he said. "Let me out of here."

"Sadly, we can't," Wilbur sighed, walking into the room with a roll of his eyes and sitting down on the bed Tommy had rolled out of. "As much as I want to."

Tommy sneered. "I could say the same for you, dipshit." 

"Okay," Phil sighed. "Clearly, you two need to be kept apart. Wilbur, please shut up." The beanie-headed man rolled his eyes again. "And Tommy - Tommy, was it?" He didn't respond. "Anyway, you seem to have some issues as well."

"Yeah," he said. "You're keeping me captive."

"You're not locked up," Techno piped up from where he was leaning by the doorway. "There aren't any chains."

"Unlike last time," he pointed out. "And besides, chains don't make a cage. Am I allowed to leave?" Their deafening silence answered that question. "Yeah. Exactly. So I'm a prisoner."

"Well, I wouldn't say you're a prisoner," Phil said carefully.

"No, the kid is right," Techno said. "Technically, anyway. This is a prison for him."

"I hate all of you," Tommy said simply, his fists clenching, the blood rushing from his hands and into his arms. 

"That's what I don't get," Phil said, his eyes furrowing. "You seemed to hate us ever since you found out we were Elementalists."

"I do," he said easily.

"Why?" Wilbur asked, looking perturbed.

"Because you're Elementalists," he said, his fingers twitching unsettlingly. "And if you'll excuse me, I need to get home." 

"No you don't," Wilbur said rudely. "You're a street kid. You don't have a home."

He rounded on the taller man lounging in his bed, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Techno lurch forward a tiny bit, protectiveness radiating from the pink-haired man. Tommy didn't move to physically hit Wilbur, though. "That's not fucking true. I have a home. And while it's not as grand as this, at least it's not a fucking prison. And before you ask, I have a fucking family as well."

Phil looked surprised by that. 

"What?" he demanded. "You thought that because I stole wallets for a living that I didn't have a family?"

"Well..." Phil said weakly. "Well..."

"Yes," Techno said bluntly. "I thought you were an orphan."

"I wasn't talking about  parents ," he hissed. "If my mother were alive, she would have sent me to the University. Thank God she died and I didn't have to go to that fucking school."   

Phil looked horrified. "Who was your mother?"

"I don't know," he said, and that's mostly the truth. He knew that if he dug deeper into his past he would find it - he would find out the truth behind his and Tubbo's heritage. "And I don't want to know." And that was mostly the truth as well, because he doesn't have a father - a father in its truest sense - and he sort of hated his mother for what she brought him into when he was born. "She died when I was younger. She's not part of my pseudo-family."

Techno blinked at his usage of words. "Kid, have you ever been to school?"

"No," he said. 

Wilbur groaned. "This is going to be a  disaster ."

"You think  I  can fucking help it?" he demanded. "I don't want to fucking be here. I can go. Please, if you want me to be gone so much, fucking  let me go ."

Phil shook his head. "The bonds of the coven have already settled. You experienced it first, being the odd one out. If you leave now, then it's just going to hurt more for all of us, until we die."

"I don't see what's so bad about that," Tommy said stiffly. "It's a win-win situation."

"That's a real shit attitude," Wilbur said.

He glared at the taller man. "Well, I'm feeling really shitty."

"Understandable," Techno muttered. 

"I know you don't want to be an Elementalist," Phil said. "And if you don't want to go to the University, that's fine. I don't understand it, but it's fine." Tommy blinked, surprised, and by the looks on both Wilbur and Techno's faces, they're surprised as well. "But you need to stay for a bit. If you break the coven, there aren't any third chances. I don't want to risk it, anyway."

Tommy was confused when Phil mentioned that this was the third time - clearly, someone had come before him, and he didn't miss much when it came to word choice - but a single glare from Wilbur stopped him in his tracks, and he bit his lip. It made sense - there were some things that he didn't want to talk about either. 

"So you've never been to school," Phil continued, the only sense that something was wrong a small twitch of his left eyebrow that signified that he was upset. Tommy had learned to read people at a young age, and everyone - except Techno - here was easy to read. "So we're going to need to teach you to - "

"I can read and write," he interrupted. 

Wilbur snorted. "Sure."

"Try me, bitch," he challenged. If there was anything in the world he knew he could do, it was read, write, do math and count, and solve mind puzzles. Those lessons had come with pain, but they had stuck deeply in him, and despite not officially going to school, in each of those lessons he had learned he was confident in his abilities.

"Okay," Phil said. "If you're so sure of yourself."

Chapter Text

"It's four-hundred and twelve," he said, his mouth full from eating a piece of toast - toast that tasted far better than any food he'd ever had before. Even if he didn't want to be here, at least the food was a benefit. If the only benefit. Tommy shoved the piece of paper back at Phil, having only looked at it for about ten seconds.

"What?" Wilbur said, from where he was lounging in the second chair, writing notes on what Tommy thought was music. "Did he get that right?"

Phil stared down at the paper. "I don't know. I haven't done it myself." 

Tommy rolled his eyes, shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. "Two million, three hundred and forty-seven thousand, five hundred, and seventy-six divided by five thousand, six hundred, and ninety-eight. The answer - " he stopped, coughing as he swallowed. " - is four hundred and twelve."

"There's no way he got that right," Wilbur said, standing up. "He didn't even write anything down!"

Tommy snapped his fingers. "Sitting right here, idiot."

Wilbur sneered at him. "Look, I know you're trying to  act  all smart - "

"That's correct," Techno said, and Phil looked up from where he was trying to do long division. Techno slid his own paper over. "The kid is correct. Surprisingly." 

Tommy huffed, reaching over and grabbing the third piece of bread. "I'm always correct." 

"To be wrong is to die."

The voice flew through his head and he winced, playing it off as a random tic and shoving the piece of bread into his mouth, a small smile coming to mind when he pictured eating stolen bread - mainly from Kash and her bread cult. 

"But like...how?" Phil said, seeming a bit in awe.

"It's called skill," he said.

"But - you didn't go to school - how long have you lived on the streets?" Phil said.

"Four years," he said.

"And where were you - "

"An orphanage of sorts," he said, lying through his teeth. "There were other kids around. We were a very advanced orphanage. They had us do math and reading and writing. But it wasn't a school."

"And...where is this orphanage?" Techno asked, sounding interested.

"Not there anymore," he said bluntly. "I left when I was twelve. They move around a lot."

"Interesting," Phil muttered.

He bristled. "Do you not believe me?"

"No, I do - "

"I don't," Wilbur said. "It sounds very implausible."

"Okay, fine, bitch," he said. "What's  your  explanation for a kid with no parents who lived on the streets for four years and can do math in his head perfectly?" Wilbur opened his mouth - and then shut it. "That's what I thought. Shut the fuck up." 

Wilbur wasn't wrong. He  was  lying. But the truth was far worse. 

"We have to go meet Dream," Techno said suddenly. "Remember the turf war?"

Phil groaned. "Oh, fuck, I forgot. Don't they have a completed coven, now?"

"Well, the new kid hasn't taken his tests yet," Wilbur said conversationally. "But yes. And he seems much more agreeable than this little shithead."

"I'd be glad to be traded," Tommy said. " Please . Get me away from you fuckheads." 

"Okay,  enough ," Phil said. "Stop arguing. Dream's coven and ours have been at odds for years. Since Tommy  has  to come - "

"Does he, though?" Wilbur muttered.

"Yes, Wilbur, he does," Phil said. "Unless you want to feel immense pain. Which, when facing Dream, would not be great."

Tommy was very, very confused. "Who the fuck is Dream?"

"Another Elementalist," Wilbur answered. "Techno's archnemesis."

Techno snorted. "In order to be my archnemesis, that would mean one has to be good," he pointed out.

"He  is  good," Phil said patiently. "Techno, you only beat him by two points." Tommy didn't know what that meant. "And we're supposed to be meeting him to make a joint expedition."

"Sounds dumb," Tommy muttered.

Wilbur banged his fist down on the table, startling everyone in the room. "It's  important ," he hissed. "Children are being taken captive and forced to battle each other to the death, Tommy. This is a far bigger problem than anything you know of."

Tommy's jaw dropped.

Seriously?  Seriously? 

Now? After all these years...they were searching for the Pit? After everything?

Wilbur mistook Tommy's shock for horror. "Yeah. Exactly. So we're trying to make amends between our groups so we can hunt down the bastards and stop the things that are happening in that place."

"It's called the Pit," he said without thinking.

"What?" Phil said.

Tommy winced. Aw, shit. He shouldn't have said that. His mind flew, looking for a way out. "Yeah, they used to tell horror stories about it in the orphanage to scare children."

Wilbur frowned. "But it wasn't public information then. I was the first to know, and I only knew about it seven years ago."

"Maybe it wasn't public information to you," Tommy said, trying to act his brash, natural self. "But I lived in a place where the people took children to the Pit almost weekly. It's one of the many reasons I left. Nobody cared that parentless children were being stolen. Nobody cared at all. I don't know why they care now."

Phil and Wilbur exchanged a glance. "Well, that's helpful information," Phil said after a moment. "I probably should have known that. That's why you're part of the group, Tommy." Tommy frowned at the table. "But we'll talk more about that later. We have to go get ready to meet Dream's coven."

All of this is just odd to Tommy. It's a lot like the dreams he has. He has a sword strapped to his back - Techno said for show, because Tommy  obviously  doesn't know how to use it. That type of sword is awkward in his hand and heavy. The scarf is still around his neck, and he doesn't  understand what the fuck  is going on.

He knew he was a nature Elementalist. He'd known that for years and years. He knew that Tubbo was one as well. He'd known that for years and years as well. 

They'd agreed to meet in a field outside the city. It's the first time Tommy has left the safety of the city in four years. He saw shapes in the forest and he jumped, and he got scared of every twig that cracked. Wilbur laughed at him, but Phil snapped at Wilbur every time, which Tommy appreciated. 

He didn't appreciate Techno calling him a scaredy-cat. 

"Dream's late," Wilbur said, from where he was leaning against the tree, strumming his guitar. With his brown hair, it sort of reminded Tommy of Tubbo and his ukelele - when he'd had a ukelele. But Wilbur was tall and mean where Tubbo wasn't. 

Techno snorted in response. "Dream is always late."

"Or maybe you guys are early."

Tommy turned to see a man in a stupid white mask standing there, his sword slung across his back, and wearing a green robe. Two others stood behind him - a tan-skinned man with raven hair and a headband, and a brown-haired man with white glasses - or were those goggles? - over his eyes. 

"Dream," Wilbur sneered. "How nice to see you."

"The same can be said for you," the man with the mask - Dream - said coolly. "Techno. Phil." Tommy cringed under the look that the masked man gave him. "And I didn't know that you had a fourth in your coven. Especially after what happened last time."

" Don't ," Phil hissed, sounding angry for the first time since meeting him. 

Dream raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Well, this is - "

Tommy didn't hear what Dream said. Didn't need to hear what Dream said, because the man with the raven hair stepped aside and Tubbo was standing there, clean and scared and - and  there .

His eyes brightened a thousand percent when he saw Tommy, and a smile blossomed across his face. Tommy felt his own mouth twist into a wide grin, and he glanced at Wilbur and Phil and Techno, who seemed to be engaged in a conversation with Dream and his two cronies. 

Tubbo was here. Tubbo wasn't dead. Tubbo had joined a coven - Dream's coven. Tubbo was an Elementalist.

Tubbo wasn't dead. 

"What the fuck?" Wilbur said suddenly, startling him. He glanced over to see Wilbur staring at Tubbo. "What the fuck is happening?"

Tubbo wasn't paying attention, but Tommy finally saw what Wilbur was so surprised over - the flowers blooming at Tubbo's feet. Abnormally fast. Where flowers shouldn't be blooming, because it was summertime, not  spring . 

"Tubbo," the raven-haired man said. "Don't do that."

Tubbo didn't pay attention as he lurched forward, and Tommy moved as well. Phil yelled something, but Tommy wasn't paying attention as he ran towards Tubbo, pure joy and euphoria filling him. He glanced down briefly, and saw that with every step he took closer to Tubbo, flowers bloomed at his feet. Ironic, in a way. 

He crashed into Tubbo so hard that it hurt; Tubbo's head going straight into his sternum, but he knew neither of them cared very much.

"Missed you," Tubbo whispered, clutching him tightly.

"Clingy," he muttered, but he squeezed his eyes tight to stop the tears from falling. It didn't work, but he tried anyway. "Thought you were dead, Tubbo."

"I'm sorry," Tubbo murmured. "They wouldn't let me come back."

Chapter Text

Tommy sighed into the hair of his best friend. He felt warm, suddenly, even though it had been warm before - now he felt warm inside. Fuzzy, almost.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Tubbo whirled, hand reaching for his sword, fear shining in his eyes, and Tommy caught his hand before he had a chance to lash out. There was a moment of silence where they both stared at the raven-haired man who had just demanded an answer.

"Well...um, this is my friend. Tommy, meet Sapnap and George and Dream." Tubbo said lamely. "I guess he's part of the other coven."

Dream seemingly popped out of nowhere. "Friend? For how long?"

Tommy got the shaken feeling that Dream knew. "Three and a half years," he lied. Dream seemed to sag a bit in relief. Tubbo gave him a look, and he glared right back.

"And what's with the magic?" Phil asked from behind Tommy, surprising him. 

"That's mine," Tubbo said sheepishly. "I lost control."

"Tommy? What about you?"

"Tubbo said it was his," Tommy said. "It's not mine. I don't have magic."

"What - " Sapnap started.

"He doesn't," Tubbo said suddenly. "He had magic. He doesn't have magic anymore."

"That's not possible," Phil said. 

"Well, it's possible now," he said warningly. "So  stop pushing ."

Dream laughed. "Well, you four seem to have a lovely dynamic." 

Tubbo whirled on Tommy. "You didn't tell them." There was an accusation loud and clear in his voice. It wasn't a question, not really.

Tommy glanced around at the confusion on everyone's faces. "Do we really have to have this conversation now?"

"Yes!" Tubbo all but screamed. "You're not being  fair  to yourself!"

"I know  exactly  what I'm dealing with," he said. "And I'll deal with it again and again."

Tubbo snorted. "Oh, that went pear-shaped last time, though, remember? You nearly died."

"And I'll do it again, because it was worth saving you."

"What the fuck is going on?" Phil demanded in a loud voice.

"Nothing," Tommy said, glaring Tubbo into silence. "Nothing at all." 

"Tubbo?"

"What he said," Tubbo muttered, kicking at a wilting daisy. "Nothing at all."

"So," Dream said, once they were all sitting on a makeshift table - a flat rock in the middle of the forest. "I offered a bit of peace because Tubbo submitted up some information on the missing children."

"Oh?" Phil said, leaning forward.

"Previous locations," Tubbo muttered, turning away. Tommy noted that despite Dream knowing what had happened, the shorter boy was still wearing his scarf. "Stuff like that."

"And...how do you know that?" Wilbur said with interest.

Tubbo turned towards Tommy, then looked down at the ground, ashamed. 

Silence fell upon the clearing.

"Oh," Wilbur whispered. " Oh ."

Tubbo got up, suddenly, and Tommy saw the tears sliding down his face. "I - um - "

"Tubbo!" he shouted, getting up and running after the boy, ignoring the shouts of the people behind him. He didn't hear anyone coming after them as he ran through the forest, the wind whistling in his ears. He skidded to a halt as Tubbo collapsed at the base of the tree, his sobs ringing out through the forest. 

"Tubbo," he said softly, crawling next to the boy and tugging him closer to his chest, tears pricking at the corners of his own eyes. "Tubbo, it's going to be okay."

"I-it hurts, Tommy," Tubbo sobbed. "Remembering."

"It does," he agreed. "But I'm here for you. And I guess your coven is as well." As much as he hated to admit it, Tubbo seemed to be coping well with Dream.

Tubbo looked up at him, his eyes bloodshot, sniffing as he wiped at the tears. "Your coven doesn't even know."

Tommy snorted. "I legit met them yesterday, Big T."

"Are they ever  going  to know?"

He doesn't really have a response for that. 

There is a reason that he and Tubbo can do math and science and write and read. There is a reason that they have nightmares and scars around their necks. There is a reason that there is a brand on their chests. 

Tommy let out a breath.

He can't tell them. They will pity him. He doesn't want their pity. He liked that they treated him like a person - not a breakable ornament. Not a piece of glass. As much as he hated Wilbur, at least Wilbur acted like he normally did. At least Wilbur didn't change his actions and responses based on Tommy's past that he wanted to leave behind.

"How much does your coven know?" he asked.

Tubbo winced. "They think I was there...for a month."

Tommy grimaced. "That's a hundred and forty-three months you're missing, Big Man."

Tubbo sighed. "I know. I know - but it's not that bad."

"It is, 'cause you're straight-up lying to them," Tommy pointed out.

"At least they know some of the truth," Tubbo frowned. "What did you tell  your  coven?"

Tommy cringed. "That I was in an orphanage before I lived on the streets."

Tubbo didn't respond to that.

They were both liars, it seemed.

"So, covens have four people in them," Phil explained patiently. Tommy groaned, throwing an arm over his face. "A wind Elementalist - me - a fire Elementalist - Techno - a water Elementalist - that's Wil - and you, a nature... uh... Elementalist." Tommy threw him a small glare, and Phil rolled his eyes and continued. "Usually, Elementalists are found at a younger age and attend the University where they graduate, and then eventually, find their covens. However, because of your special circumstances, you will have to take the final-year tests without going to school."

"Tubbo will as well?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, Tubbo as well," Phil said patiently. "I'm sure that Dream and the others are telling him similar things as well. Now, I've contacted the professors, and they told me that you would have to pass the test...next week or so."

"What if I fail?" he asked blithely. 

Phil shrugged. "Well, you'd probably have to actually attend the University."

Tommy wrinkled his nose. "Gross, school. I think I'll pass."

"Doubt it," Wilbur called from the other room.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Tommy," Phil said warningly.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "He's being a bitch, Phil."

"You too, Wilbur!" Phil said, raising his voice. "You were in the same spot eight years ago, when you were thirteen! You shouldn't be one to judge."

"I was fucking messed up," Wilbur snorted, walking into the room and grabbing a glass of water. "I'd just come back from the Pit, as Tubbo called it. Remember, Phil?"

Tommy froze. "You - what?"

Wilbur snorted. "Yeah. I was there for three months or so. Not as a participant; not like the younger kids." He put a hand down and measured to his waist. "They were like this short. I saw a bunch of them. Maybe like thirty or so. Children. They were in pairs of two and had to solve puzzles to free the older Elementalists before the  Pit  moved places like it does every few months. It's a fun game the Pit Masters liked playing." Wilbur snorted again, shaking his head. "I was the only survivor that time around." 

Tommy watched, shaken, as Wilbur walked out of the room, trying to imagine a thirteen-year-old boy as one of the people that he'd competed for - not specifically Wilbur - but he'd  been  one of those children, he was sure, that had competed in games for the freedom of the older Elementalists.

He'd won every time, though. He and Tubbo, as cellmates, as pairs - as brothers. The Pit Masters hadn't liked it, but rules were rules, and they'd set the Elementalists free every time before moving on. 

So...unbeknownst to Wilbur...he was talking about Tommy and Tubbo.

Maybe they weren't so different after all. 

"He doesn't tell that story very often," Phil said softly. "You must have hit him hard."

Tommy frowned. "He hates me."

"He doesn't," Phil said. "He's afraid of what you could do to me; to our coven." Phil tapped his chest; over his heart. "You weren't the first nature Elementalist to join our coven, Tommy."

He opened his mouth to ask who, but snapped it shut as the barest hint of a memory rose in his mind. "Oh," he settled for instead. "I see." 

"You usually have questions," Phil noted.

He fought to keep his hands from shaking as he clenched them tightly under the table that had the endless notes spread across it. "I - um, Tubbo was there for a month, remember?" It was hard to keep track of the lies they'd told. 

"Yeah," Phil said warily.

"He talked about it, a bit," Tommy said. "Four years ago. We - well,  he  - was twelve then. Younger than Wilbur, I suppose."

"Did the children fight for his freedom as well?"

"No," Tommy said. "Tubbo escaped on his own."

A note of surprise entered Phil's eyes. "Really?"

Tommy gulped and hoped his story added up with whatever Tubbo was telling Dream. "Um...yes."

Phil's eyes softened, and he put a hand on Tommy's arm. Tommy was surprised when he didn't get the immediate uneasy feeling to move away; surprised that he was comfortable enough around the older man that he felt like he knew so well - even though he didn't - to not pull away from the comforting grip.

"We'll save the rest of them, Tommy," Phil said, fierce protectiveness evident in his voice. "The rest of the children. That way it never happens to Tubbo, or Wilbur - " his voice broke. " - or my wife ever again."

His wife.

Chapter Text

Phil was wrong. Wilbur definitely hated him.

"LOOK, I'M SORRY I'M NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, ALRIGHT?" he screamed.

"YOU'RE RIGHT!" Wilbur screamed right back, and Tommy had half a mind to attack the taller boy before realizing that it would do nothing at all. "YOU  AREN'T  GOOD ENOUGH! WE SHOULD HAVE GOT SOMEONE BETTER, BUT WE HAD TO GO AND GET YOU TO COMPLETE OUR COVEN!"

"I DON'T EVEN FUCKING WANT TO BE HERE!" he yelled, his voice hurting as he felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He didn't even know how this argument had started - it just  had , when Phil and Techno had left for groceries. 

"THEN LEAVE!" Wilbur screamed.

"FINE!" he shouted.

And then he stormed out, into the weather that was rainy and droll and cold, and he shivered because he was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and he wanted to go back inside but then Wilbur would no doubt judge him harsher.

He was being a pussy. It was just rain. He was getting soft from actually being able to sleep in a bed. He needed to get away.

The farther he walked away from his house the bigger his headache got. Phil had explained that until the coven completed the ritual to accept him in, he would be in pain if he got too far away from them. Apparently, it was a built-in mechanism because he was supposed to be younger when accepted into the coven - but he was older, and it was annoying, and he couldn't do the ritual until he passed the finals at the University. 

The rain chilled him to the very bone, and he fought back a shiver as he stumbled down the alleyway that was oh-so-heart-wrenchingly familiar to him. There were people hurrying around, splashing mud onto his nice pants, and they hardly paid him a second glance as he leaned against the wet wall, feeling the water mess up his hair and pour down his already-drenched back.

It hurt. It really did - to turn and walk away from his coven. He knew it was only a tug for them, really - but his head and neck hurt  so much . The rain pelted down, dripping down his face and soaking absolutely everything, but he  couldn't  go back, not now - not without losing a part of his dignity.

His hands were shaking as he climbed up the drainpipe, slipping and cutting his hand on a jagged outcrop of stone, and he realized that some of the water on his face were tears.

He was so stupid.

A part of him had thought that maybe he would have a family from all of this. A part of him had hoped to get his revenge on the Pit Owners and all those that had wronged him. A part of him had wanted his life of running and stealing to be over.

A part of him didn't hate being an Elementalist. 

The underhang where he and Tubbo had spent four years hiding was still there - to absolutely nobody's surprise. He ducked under it, nearly melting to the ground from the sheer amount of pain that was coursing through his body. He was still soaked as he crawled to the corner with the single ratty blanket that he now realized didn't keep him warm at all - but he tugged it around himself anyway, listening to the patter of the rain against the aluminum ceiling as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the hurt. His hands shook, wrinkly and cold, and his lower lip was shaking. He sniffed, coughing slightly as he shifted, his nose already runny.

Well, this was just great, wasn't it?

The blanket didn't help at all; the wind blowing in through the doorway and spraying rain and wind all over him. 

He had forgotten what it was like; to live in a place that wasn't enclosed. He'd forgotten what it was like, on the stormy nights when it was cold and rainy and he felt like he was going to die from the shivering. It had been a memory - a fragment of its real form. 

His headache was growing worse, and Tommy forgot about the stupid rain to focus on the pain growing behind his forehead, grimacing slightly. The pain grew sharper as he refused to move back towards his coven -  fuck them  - and then he cried out as it overwhelmed him; his last thought about the coolness of the metal below his cheek before he blacked out.

"Tubbo!" Dream said, as Tubbo was eating breakfast the next morning. "You have  someone  here to see you." The disdain was clear in his voice.

Tubbo frowned. Surely Dream couldn't be talking about Tommy. Dream had said he'd liked Tommy. He stood up from the table from where he'd been writing notes about Elementalists and their powers; specifically, Siphons and Retentions while eating his cereal, and walked through the house to the door. He liked this place. It was very homely - a bit lonely without Tommy; but Dream had said he could go see Tommy today, so that was good. Sapnap was questionable - there was a lot of chaos, and Dream was usually the tiebreaker; which made sense, as he was the head of the coven. George and Sapnap usually got into loud arguments that made Tubbo cringe and want to crawl into a whole. He usually took paper and pencils and went under his bed when they argued. He didn't like loud noises, and he wished that it didn't take him absolute ages to read so that he could practice for the test he hoped to ace.

Dream had said that the test would have to do with information - and that he and Tommy would be skipping the physical part of it where they would have to exercise their powers. Which was good. Tubbo didn't ever try to use it, and though he sat in the garden and  tried , the last time he had was when he'd been reunited with his brother; when flowers had bloomed at both of their feet. He couldn't access it while trying, and had all but given up; opting to practice for the written part. Dream had told him that there would be basic math questions and biology and chemistry - and then at the end there would be some logic puzzles.

Tubbo thought he could ace that part. No, not thought -  knew  he could. The part he was worried about was the Elementalist histories and knowledge on powers and how they worked. He didn't know anything else, but he had been playing logic puzzle  games  for the majority of his childhood.

He stepped down the hallway and saw Dream standing by the door, holding it open with a sort of disgruntled expression on his face. Tommy's coven leader was standing there, his hat a bit damp from the final drizzle of rain, looking wary with circles under his eyes. 

"You're Phil, right?" Tubbo said uncertainly, moving forward.

Phil nodded. "Hello, Tubbo. Have you seen Tommy?"

"Uh," he said slowly. "No? Doesn't he live in your house?"

Phil sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yes, but he ran away last night after he got into an argument with Wilbur."

Tubbo frowned, anxiety coursing through his gut. Tommy wasn't the type to run away from this sort of stuff - what Wilbur had said must have hurt. "No, I haven't seen him."

"Do you know where he could be?" Phil asked, worry in his eyes. "It stormed last night and Tommy never accepted the full coven bond, so he can't stray away for long without being in pain."

"What?" Tubbo gasped. "Why wouldn't he do that?" He glanced at Dream, who looked just as confused. That was the first thing Tubbo had done - after they'd explained the situation. 

"He doesn't trust Elementalists, and I don't understand it," Phil said warily. "But I'll worry about that  later . I need to find him before he...dies."

Tubbo's jaw dropped, his mind flashing. An idea sprung to mind, and he pushed past Phil and dashed into the street, glancing around for the nearest drainpipe.

"Tubbo!" Dream yelled, Phil following him.

"I'll be back!" he shouted, and didn't wait for confirmation before climbing up onto one of the first-story shops, the people in the streets giving him nasty looks.

"What are you doing?" Phil yelled up at him as he used the roof of the first building to hop onto the second.

"Finding my best friend!" he shouted, and Phil nodded at him, seeming to trust him. Tubbo used the second building to get onto the third and final level of the city - and then jumped across an alley to another building, heading towards the place that he and Tommy had spent most of their time. The metal plates were slippery and he almost fell a couple times; cursing and jumping up, his front wet and sopping, but he ignored it and ran on, going to the little hut that he and Tommy had made from spare aluminum plates and a stolen welder. 

He dashed through the doorway. "Tommy?" he whispered.

Tommy was there. Tubbo's heart stopped when the boy didn't respond to him; when he looked too pale and wasn't moving, even though he was soaking wet. When Tubbo saw the cut on his hand wasn't bleeding much anymore. 

There was a movement in the doorway, and Tubbo leaped, turning around and his hand coming up. It was caught by Tommy's third coven member - a person that Dream talked about often; Technoblade. He winced and brought his hand down to his side quickly.

"How did you find me?"

"I followed you," Techno said roughly, kneeling down and picking up Tubbo, the wet blanket falling the floor with a wet thump. He hadn't even  seen  Techno with Phil - how had he known? Tubbo watched as Techno gazed down at the unconscious boy with an unreadable expression - was that worry?

"Is he - " Tubbo stopped.

"He's alive," Techno said. "Barely." Tubbo breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm going to get him back home to Phil and Wilbur. That fucking idiot."

"What did Wilbur say?" Tubbo asked.

Techno snorted. "Some stupid fuckin' things." Tubbo clearly got the message that Tommy was going to have to tell him; because Techno wasn't going to reveal anything. "Dream said he wants you back home."

"But Tommy - " Tubbo started.

Techno's eyes softened as he glanced back at the shorter boy. "Tubbo - right?" Tubbo nodded slowly. "Tommy's gonna be fine, okay? Phil will help him. I know Wilbur seems to hate him, but I don't. He's just a bit annoying at times - but what teenager isn't?"

Tommy felt like shit. Like absolute,  total  shit. The light was too bright, his nose was runny, his throat hurt, he leaned up and threw up in the bucket every five minutes or so, and he sometimes lapsed into a shivering mess despite the warmth outside. 

And that water Elementalist fucker was trying to poison him.

"Eat the damned medicine," Wilbur hissed, trying to shove a spoon full of nasty smelling and what Tommy was sure was equally as nasty-tasting toward him.

Tommy dragged the second pillow over his face, resisting the bile that rose up in his throat from the movement. "Fuck off," he muttered, still pissed at the older man. 

"Tommy," Wilbur said. "Please. Phil is forcing me to do this."

He threw the pillow off his head and glared at Wilbur. "So you're telling me that you wouldn't be here if it weren't for  Phil ?"

"No, I - " Wilbur started, getting defensive. "No, Phil just - "

"Spit it out," Tommy said, coughing slightly as he spat the words at Wilbur's face, and pulling up the duvet covers around him.

"Just eat the damned medicine, you gremlin child," Wilbur grumbled, shoving it towards your face.

Tommy glared at the older boy, who glared right back - and it became a battle of wills that Tommy lost the moment that he started shivering. He gave up and all but bit down on the spoon, drinking the nasty liquid.

And then promptly threw up all over the sheets, forcing Wilbur to jump off the bed and shout for Phil, a look of plain disgust on his face. 

Life was going great.

Chapter Text

The sword didn't feel right in his hands. Tommy didn't know how to explain - couldn't possibly explain it to Techno, who was trying to walk him through the art of swordsmanship. It was too light in some places; too balanced in others, and Tommy was trying to parry Techno's blows, but couldn't because the sword wasn't moving where he liked it moving. It slipped out of his grasp sometimes, and both he and Techno were annoyed - Techno had never seen this before.

Firstly, because Tommy knew - most of the time - what Techno was going to do, and could easily dodge the blows - most of the time - when it was just Techno with his sword. But when it came to using his  own  sword to parry and strike, both boys were confounded by how unadept Tommy was. Techno remarked many times over that Tommy had sword problems that he had never seen before - like he knew what he was doing; which he did, but couldn't execute it.

Tommy couldn't tell Techno that he'd spent the majority of his life in a den of swords and slavers and sand. Tubbo was already too much fussed over; the shorter boy had admitted that with a disgruntled expression - and the  Dream Team  only thought he'd been there for a month.

What if the two covens found out they'd been there for twelve years? It couldn't end well. Phil was already worried about Wilbur often; who sometimes had brief panic attacks and would shout at Tommy when he drew too close. But Wilbur had been free before he'd been captured, and Tommy had not - so the Pit had been his experience of a normal life. He'd thought that was simply how it  was , until he could read and read about the sky and the trees and the animals of the aboveground. Then he was curious - and he'd wondered. 

"I don't get it!" Techno said, leaning on his sword as Tommy dropped his for just about the thousandth time, the hilt having  just  spun out of his grip, because it just wasn't  right  in the right places. "You're not  bad  at sword fighting, and you have damn good instincts, but it's like you're used to something else."

Tommy shrugged, wiping at his still-runny nose with the corner of his shirt. His cold had disappeared - Phil had called it pneumonia - just in time for his final trials tomorrow. He watched as Techno stalked away, and then Tommy went to his room, watching the sun set with a book on animals and insects nestled into his lap long after Phil brought him some soup before turning the lights off and offering him a small smile. 

Was he nervous? No.

Should he be? Yes. 

But both he and Tubbo were great under pressure - better under pressure than not under pressure, and that seemed to bother both Dream and Phil a lot, who disappeared to talk about things that Tommy and Tubbo were  sure  was about them.

Tubbo talked a lot about trying to do magic. He'd activated it once in the weeks that followed, and that had been a complete and utter accident when he'd summoned a hive of bees to chase off the Bread Cult that had been harassing some nice guy named Nath. Well, Tubbo hadn't quite sure it'd been harassing, as Nath's friend had been antagonizing the younger kids, but he'd gotten angry, and then bees had come from nowhere to chase the bread cultists off. 

Tommy didn't even try to use magic that he know he couldn't use. It wasn't there for him, and after a few loud arguments with Phil, the older man had dropped it in favor of getting Tommy to read through boring textbooks about Elementalist history.

Luckily he could recite knowledge facts back with only hearing them once. Tubbo couldn't read - something that Dream had called dyslexia; so Tommy just usually spouted the facts out and Tubbo memorized them with a dip of his head and a little nod.

The six others of both covens noticed this, and questioned Tommy. 

No, he did not have a photographic memory. Which was true - because he couldn't take one look at something and remember it. But he could memorize facts fairly easily if he used the beat of a song to remember it. 

No, he did not know why he could memorize things easily. 

Lie.

He just had his entire life.

Lie .

It had always come easy to him.

Lie.

It had always been natural.

Lie.

He had never gotten hurt for not being able to memorize a fact; lives had not been endangered by the event that he could not list out the entire periodic table or the entire multiplication table up to twelve by the time he was eight. Never.

LIE.

Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium - 

"Tommy!"

He glanced up through the window to see Tubbo's face smashed against it, motioning towards the latch a the bottom. He rolled off the bed and listened for a second - the house was quiet; as it always was at this time of night when the others were asleep. He padded over and unlocked the latch, pulling the window open. "What?" he hissed, glancing at the flat plane of roof that Tubbo was standing on.

"I found something you should see," Tubbo said amicably.

"We have the test tomorrow," Tommy reminded.

"And here I thought the great TommyInnit loved adventure," Tubbo remarked sarcastically.

Tommy grumbled, glancing back at the closed door, before sighing and climbing out, his bare feet hitting the metal of the roof. "This better be good, Big Man."

"It is," Tubbo promised him, a huge grin spreading across his face as he grabbed Tommy's arm, pulling him away from his coven's home and into the moonlight and starlight, across the roofs. Tommy took a deep breath and smelled the air of the city - the cooking meat; the faint awful scent of the sewers - the people, the things that existed in the city. His bare feet skittered across the roof as he followed the smaller boy.

His scarf wasn't even on; back in his room. He noticed too late, and halted, turning to go back. Tubbo put a hand on his forearm, offering a reassuring smile. "It's fine," his best friend murmured. "Nobody will see us." 

Tommy hesitated and then followed the boy farther - down into the streets, where the mud squelched between his bare toes and the buildings almost looked terrifying; as if they were going to close in on him.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw where Tubbo was leading him. He'd only seen it from a distance - but it was a huge, brick and metal building with many windows and a loud ruckus of people coming in and out.

The University. 

"No, no -" he said. "Tubbo, what are you doing?"

"We're not going  in  there, stupid," Tubbo huffed, and then paused. "Well, not in the building, at least." Tommy stared at the shorter boy as he dragged him along the path and to the University fence. "Climb over."

"Tubbo, we can't  break into  the University!" he said, horrified. 

Tubbo raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm surprised you're so against doing that."

"They could - " he stopped, and decided to be less specific. "They could do awful things if we're caught, Tubbo. And I can't save you from - from  that ." He gestured at the University.

"You won't have to," Tubbo said, pulling himself up the metal bars that made up the fence. "We won't get caught."

Tommy grumbled some choice words under his mouth before following Tubbo up and over the metal bars, and landing softly in the manicured land on the other side. He couldn't imagine ever coming to school here every day - it was too imposing, too large, too  silent . Despite the quiet awkwardness of his household, he enjoyed being in the bright happy space where Phil made breakfast and Techno chased Wilbur around the house banging on the doors like brothers fighting. He enjoyed being able to walk to Tubbo's house and run around the streets with him - when they weren't forced to study for this stupid test by Dream and Phil. He enjoyed poking fun at George and Sapnap and then running and jumping across the roofs in a manhunt sense; the thrill of the getaway the best serotonin in the world.

Despite how much he hated Elementalists, he did not hate his coven, nor Tubbo's. He couldn't even bring himself to hate Wilbur; for the older boy would occasionally help him with his history when Phil and Techno were busy or out; a few occasional gruff words before walking away. 

Despite how alone he had been his whole life, he was slowly coming to care about them. Despite how much he wanted to walk away and be with just Tubbo again - he knew that he would have a harder choice the longer he stayed. 

Because he liked eating breakfast and lunch and dinner with Phil's brilliant cooking, and he liked practicing sword fighting with Techno - even if the swords were plain wrong; he knew Tubbo had the same problem - he liked lying awake at night when he couldn't sleep and listening to the quiet noises of Wilbur plucking his guitar when he thought nobody could hear. He liked waking up and knowing that while Tubbo may not be next to him, he was only five minutes away - and sometimes Tubbo  was  with him; when they stayed up super late and then Tubbo fell asleep in the bed next to him. 

Of course, it wasn't  all  good. That's not how life was. There were the times he got into loud arguments with everyone - mostly Wilbur; but everyone else as well. There were the times that he couldn't sleep because he had vivid flashbacks unless Tubbo was there to make things better with his comforting presence - as things had always been. There were the times that the heat bothered him; especially with the scarf he constantly wore. There were the times when he didn't want to be inside and wanted to stare at the sun the entire time because he was afraid it would disappear and he would be back underground again.

Of course, neither his coven nor Tubbo's knew this. They thought that he was odd. After all, he fought for stupid things like staying out in the sunshine just  one more hour , because he refused to take off the scarf - because he would eat just about anything without care for how it tasted or what kind of food it was. 

Tubbo lead him around the gardens of the University, and Tommy paused before shrugging and stealing an apple from one of the trees. If they were going to break in, they weren't going to miss  one  missing apple, right?

"Over there," Tubbo whispered loudly, pointing towards a row of stones in the earth - Tommy squinted, frowning.

"Are those fucking  gravestones ?" he said in disbelief.

"SHH!" Tubbo shushed loudly. "I don't wanna get caught."

"Why the fuck are we here?" he asked.

"Look," Tubbo said, pointing to a particularly fancy one that looked like it had fresh flowers placed on it. It was near the edges; but while worn, had an older look about it that told Tommy it was well-taken care of. 

Tubbo lead him over in the ghastly silence to the gravestone, staring down at the white marble in the moonlight.

"Look," Tubbo whispered. "That's our mother."

Chapter Text

Tommy sat in the hall of the University with only a professor at the desk in the empty test-taking area - Tubbo was in a separate one - and stared at his finished sheet of paper. In total, there were seventy-three problems.

The test had started twenty minutes ago.

He'd finished all of them.

He hadn't checked himself - why would he? He knew they were correct. He'd learned long ago to get things right the first time. He glanced up at the professor; an elderly man who was reading a book, looking bored.

Tommy had three and a half hours to go. 

He'd finished in twenty. He had no doubt that Tubbo, with his dyslexia, would finish within the next twenty. He had faith in his friend, at least enough for that.

And he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night - because, well... he'd been sitting by his mother's grave. She wasn't actually there - she was in one of the many mass burials the Pit Owners had. But clearly, she had meant enough to someone to be remembered and have a grave and fresh flowers. 

Tommy rested his head on the desk and closed his eyes.

Only to be shaken awake when the sun was higher in the sky and he was less groggy. He leaped to his feet, turning and facing the University professor who had awoken him. He glanced at the hourglass - at the falling sand that made him want to run; he  hated  hourglasses - and saw that it had been fifty minutes. 

"Sleeping on the job?" the professor asked with a raised eyebrow. "You'll never be an Elementalist."

Tommy cleared his throat and tried to hide his anger. "I...um, finished. Sir." 

The professor blinked at him, and then slowly reached around and picked up the packet of paper, flipping through it. To every answered question; to the lack of work on the easier ones. "You cheated," he said slowly.

"I did  not !" Tommy shouted, shocked.

"You're just like that other kid - Tubbo, was it? A cheater."

Phil waited anxiously on the bench outside the University. There were two tests to grade - how hard could it be? The four hours had already lapsed and both kids had yet to show their faces. Techno had fallen asleep, and Wilbur had taken to sitting in the grass and writing down song lyrics in the notebook he'd gotten. On the bench across the path, George was sleeping on Sapnap's arm, who looked ready to yeet him into tomorrow - or let him sleep. Dream was pacing on the gravel path, looking nervous.

Phil decided to speak up. "Relax, Dream," he said, raising his voice. "They're gonna be fine. They're smart kids - they'll pass." In the back of his mind, he knew that Tubbo would; the kid had a habit of knowing random facts. Tommy seemed to memorize things just as easily and oddly, but he said he didn't have a photographic memory - which made Phil wonder where he had learned to memorize this stuff quickly. However, Tommy also had a shitty work ethic and would often get distracted by the damndest of things. 

He had faith in them, though. They had gone through a lot - a lot more than they'd said, he knew  that  much. Tubbo had been in the Pit for a month when he was younger, and Phil's heart went out to the smaller boy whom Tommy was so protective over. 

He wouldn't push, though. Not until they were ready. He knew no matter how much Tommy ate his food or laughed at the jokes flung around the table that he didn't trust them as Elementalists. He didn't  like  Elementalists.

The door opened, and Phil jumped to his feet, startling Techno, who yawned and rose as well, rubbing his eyes. Wilbur looked up, a bit of confusion in them when he saw who it was.

"Where's Tubbo?" Dream demanded angrily, and Phil had to hold back a sigh at the straightforward coven leader. 

"He and Tommy have been taken to the Retentions for questioning," the professor said, and Phil could see right through his neutral face to the shit-eating grin that was hiding underneath. "They cheated on the test."

"Tubbo would  never ," Dream said, taken aback.

Phil cast a surprised look at Techno, who had quiet curiosity written all over his face. "So you took them to the  Retentions ?" he said, trying to keep the horror out of his voice. "You're only supposed to take the worst of the worst there! Not children!" Inside, he felt horrified, and even Wilbur looked positively sick.

"They said they didn't cheat," the professor snapped. "They were clearly lying."

"Tubbo doesn't lie, not like that," Dream said stiffly.

The professor tilted his head. "Maybe not. But there are some things I think we should...talk about."

Phil really didn't like the sound of that, but he motioned Wilbur and Techno to follow him, and the other coven accompanied him into the darker space of the University.

It felt...dark. He couldn't explain it. When he'd been here, it had been full of joy and magic and happiness. It was as if...the entire place was sick. By the looks of his coven members, clearly they thought the same way. 

He knew where the Retention dungeon was - he'd been there during his classes many years ago; a scare that he would never forget. Retentions had the ability to scour your mind and steal your memories and present them to others - all without your consent. They were only used in the worst of cases - but for  this ? For two children, one of which he was ninety-nine percent sure hadn't cheated?

It was almost unheard of. 

He didn't like the slimy professor who was leading them. Techno didn't either; for he kept his hand on his sword the entirety of the journey, his face twisted in a way that was both innocuous and furious. Wilbur looked horrified - perhaps by the idea of Tommy and Tubbo being mind-raped - and he didn't even  want  to look at Dream. Dream was always protective; always taking that extra bit too far to protect his own - which included Tubbo now. 

The professor opened one of the doors leading to one of the detaining rooms and motioned them through. Phil threw him a nasty look as he passed, and the professor had the  audacity  to give him a shit-eating smirk - until Dream passed him and he blanched under the intense glare of the blonde-haired Elementalist. 

"Tommy!" Wilbur yelled, surprising Phil with the caring behind his voice. 

Tommy didn't look up from behind the wall of twice-tough glass - magically infused - from where he was staring down at Tubbo, who appeared to be unconscious on his lap. There were bruises on his arms and his shirt was ripped at the sleeve. Tubbo had blood running down his forehead - which was perhaps why he was unconscious. 

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Sapnap shouted, rounding on the professor, who stared at them before a man in dark robes - Retention robes - walked into the room with a neutral expression. 

Phil was staring at Tommy, who wasn't looking up at him, and he realized that the boy was crying, because there was water dripping off his face, and his heart hurt just looking at it. He'd been trying to get the kid to  not  hate Elementalists, and then they'd gone and pulled this shit. 

"You are Philza, correct?" the Renditioner said smoothly, and Phil had to force himself to remain calm as he turned towards the two men, whereas Wilbur was shaking quietly, and Techno was talking to him under his breath, and Dream looked ready to  murder  people, and George was kneeling by the glass trying to get Tommy to look at him, but it wasn't working - it wasn't that Tommy couldn't hear him; twice-tough glass had the ability to hear perfectly while also being as strong as metal. Sapnap was smoking slightly, ready to toss fire absolutely everywhere, and while Phil was sort of wondering how the University would take that; he also didn't want that to happen.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I am. Why is this necessary?"

The Renditioner turned and looked at the professor, who nodded. Phil shook with quiet fury, the air around him stiffening as he tried not to attack them outright. "Well, I have good news. They didn't cheat on the test."

"Oh?" Wilbur said coldly. "And how would you have figured that out?"

"They gave me their permission to look through - "

The glass shattered.

Phil spun, his magic activating and blowing all the glass to the side before it could hit any of his coven members, George creating a small ball around him for protection, raising his arms as a reaction, a small trail of blood running down his cheek from where the glass had gotten through.

Phil stared in surprise at Tommy, who was now on his feet, a horrifying look on his face as he snarled at the Renditioner. It was extremely hard to crack magic-infused glass - how had Tommy had done it? He had  nature  magic too - not wind magic, nor fire. 

"LIAR!" Tommy howled, tears streaming down his face. "THERE WAS NO FUCKING PERMISSION GIVEN AND YOU FUCKING KNOW IT!"

Phil's eyes widened. Well - that was a turn of events. He spun, his body shaking. "You fucking  mind-raped  them?"

"I did what I had to do," the Renditioner said easily, only looking  slightly  agitated as he glanced at the shards of glass on the floor and the two boys that everyone refused to go towards. "And I found out some very shocking information I think you all should hear."

"He - he went through all of them."

Phil heard Tubbo's soft whisper, and he looked over his shoulder to see the boy sitting up, fear in his eyes as Tommy wrapped his arms around his shoulders and tugged him closer protectively. "What?" he asked.

"He went through all of them," Tubbo said. "Not - not just yesterday's.  All  of them."

"All of what?" Techno said, seeming to be the only person in the room able to muster a voice.

"All - all the - memories," Tubbo managed out, before breaking down into silent tears.

"Hey, hey," Tommy said, in a voice that was so unlike his normal one that Phil had to do a double-take. "It's gonna be okay, alright Toby?"

" Toby ?" Phil whispered, his mind flashing. "...Toby..."

"Yes, well, they're murderers, so it's justified," the Renditioner said flippantly.

"That's like killing someone and figuring out that he was a murderer after he died!" Techno pointed out, finally losing his cool. Phil noticed the room began to feel noticeably hotter and sent a blast of cool air in Techno's direction to calm him down. The pink-haired man threw him a shaky look of thanks before continuing. "You were in the wrong  before  you said that - hey, wait a second, you guys are killers?"

"No," Tommy snapped coldly, bending over a shaking Tubbo. Dream made to move closer, but Tommy snapped at him, his cyan eyes full of hatred that made even Dream take a step back. "Well, yes. But we're not murderers."

"You've killed Elementalists," the Renditioner pointed out.

Phil's jaw dropped, turning to stare at Tommy, who wasn't really paying much attention anymore. "They  what ?"

"Shh, shh," Tommy muttered, shifting and hugging Tubbo closer to his chest, tears running down both of their faces. Phil felt a pain in his chest - aching to go closer, to comfort the two boys regardless of what they'd done in their past; but he doubted that Tommy would allow it. 

"They killed Elementalists," the Renditioner repeated. 

Phil opened his mouth to protect the two kids, but a hauntingly familiar tune filled the air and he paused. 

" I heard there was a special place...

...w here men could go and emancipate...

...the brutality and tyranny of their ruler..."

Tommy's voice broke before he could finish his sentence, and he stopped, his hands shaking as he wiped the tears from his eyes. Tubbo - or Toby? - seemed to calm from the song that the other boy had sung and stopped shaking so much. 

Wilbur opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds. "Wait a second. Didn't I - didn't I create that song?"

"You did," Tommy said. "Nearly eight years ago."

Phil glanced over at Wilbur, who seemed shaken to the bone, his face white. Phil was just confused - Wilbur had been in the Pit eight years ago; Wilbur had sung that song only a couple times; when he got back from his capture. 

"Philza, I wasn't aware that you had two sons," the Renditioner said into the silence of the room, bringing back the attention to him.

Phil  froze . He saw it then - saw Tommy look up at him with familiar blue eyes; the same messy hair that he always had - saw the brown hair of his wife in Tubbo, the grin she'd always worn plastered right on Tommy's face at certain points - how had he not known?

How had he not seen?

"Those two also killed her, you know," the Renditioner continued, as if the biggest bomb in the room hadn't just dropped. 

Wrath and rage and hatred pooled in Phil's gut, and he turned on Tommy - only to see the boy standing up, glaring at the Renditioner.

"I did no such fucking thing," the boy seethed. "I have done many things in my life - but that I did not do."

The Renditioner smiled with too many teeth. " Prove it ."

Tommy's eyes flashed. " Fine ."

The Renditioner had enough time for his eyes to widen as Tommy ran at him faster than Phil could stop him, shoving his forearm against his neck and putting his left hand on his forehead in much a similar fashion that Renditioners used to take memories.

His subconscious had just enough time to whisper  what the fuck is happening  before he felt himself get sucked into a Seeing.

A recollection - a  rendition  of someone's memories; able to be seen by those shared to.

He wasn't going to like this one bit. 

Chapter Text

Phil felt himself get pulled into the Seeing, and he stumbled into a pitch-black room with Dream, George, Sapnap, Wilbur, and Techno. Tommy and Tubbo were nowhere to be found -  his  Tommy and Tubbo were nowhere to be found. 

"What do you think the stars look like, Tommy?" a voice asked. He knew that voice - knew it to be Tubbo,  his  Tubbo,  his  son. A bit higher-pitched, a bit younger; though not by much. 

It took him a while to realize what the question had asked. It took him another second to realize that if Tubbo had to ask that question, it meant that he'd never seen the sky before.

It meant that Tommy and Tubbo had been lying when they'd said they were in an orphanage. 

It meant that they'd been in the Pit for basically their whole lives.

This realization hit him so hard that his knees shook and felt like he was going to throw up, clapping a hand over his mouth as sadness flooded through him.

He heard Tommy's younger voice giggle. "The books said it was like pinpricks of light under a blanket."

"I don't know what that means," Tubbo said regretfully.

Tommy snorted. "You think  I  fuckin' do? You're the smart one here."

Phil felt protectiveness curl in his gut - and a little bit of happiness that they had still managed to joke, even all the way down here. Even then, Tommy had sworn, and even then, Tubbo had had a peaceful lilt about his voice. 

The black smoke faded around them, and Phil's jaw dropped when he saw Kristin standing there next to two small toddler children, speaking to them softly. All three of them were grimy and dirty and covered in blood and bruises - his wife more so - and looked like they had little to no sleep. 

" Toby ," she was saying, and Phil's heart ached for Kristin - to hold her again, to see her again. 

"Tubbo," mini-Tommy said stubbornly.

"S'kay," mini-Tubbo said. "I like Tubbo."

Mini-Tommy nodded. Kristin sighed in a very familiar fashion, and she brushed her hair aside. Phil felt anger rise at the bruise on her cheek; before realizing that this was a very old memory - maybe twelve or fourteen years - and that that bruise was long gone.

As was Kristin. His heart hurt again. 

"You're going to have to be very brave, okay?" she whispered to Tommy, while mini-Tubbo went on with playing with a handful of rocks. "For him."

Mini-Tommy, while not seeming to understand, nodded.

"Tommy, what do you think the sky looks like?"

"Probably blue."

"Like the water?"

"No, like light blue."

"What does that look like?"

"I have no fucking idea, Tubbo."

He looked around five, now. Phil watched as Tommy's hands flew across a wooden cube, spinning it faster than he could ever hope to think. On the desk in front of him, sand ran out of an hourglass.

Tommy kept glancing up at it, and though the room was empty except for the desk, the chair, and the hourglass, Phil got the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to him if he didn't finish. 

And Tommy didn't finish. The moment the sand ran out, the door burst open, and four people dressed in black robes marched into the room. They had wickedly-sharp swords strapped to their hips.

Tommy screamed, and Phil's heart ached once more, trying to catch the boy as he tried to flee - but this was a memory, and Tommy was only smoke and dust and his hands swiped through air that he could never save - only watch.

The sand sunk in between Tommy's boots as he held the sword awkwardly, facing a black-haired girl whose teeth were bared; clutching a small knife in her fist. Both of them looked equally dirty; equally skinny - as if they had been there for years.

Phil had no doubt they had. 

Tommy was glancing to the spectators in the arena - and suddenly Phil knew why it was called the Pit, because it  was  a pit - a pit of sand and blood and death. The people in the stands were cheering - cheering for two small children with murder weapons to fight each other.

Phil felt sick. 

"I don't wanna - " Tommy started.

The girl leaped at him with a ferociousness that startled even Phil, and Tommy leaped aside, gasping, his face full of fear. Phil started towards him before he realized that he couldn't do anything but watch.

"Ash - " Tommy started. "I don't wanna - "

"I do," the girl said coldly, swiping at him with the knife once more.

"Tommy, do you think that what Dory said was true? That you don't have to fight above the ground?"

"Tubbo, Dory is crazy. And dead now. We have to focus on the present."

"But what if she's right? What if the  sky  and the  stars  and the  trees  aren't just stories anymore?"

"Then what, Tubbo? We're never going to get out of here. We can't focus on silly dreams when all we're trying to do is survive until the next puzzle, the next  game  the Pit Masters make us go through. Okay?"

"...okay."

Phil watched Tommy grow up. He saw many memories - memories of Kristin hurt the most; memories of Tommy crying and sobbing while they hurt him hurt as well. Phil watched, helpless, as Tommy was put in the arena; the  Pit , again and again, facing against other children. He never found out what happened with the girl named Ash, but he had an idea of what had happened when one of the memories was Tommy sobbing in a dark cell with blood on his hands and a cut on his face. 

He watched as Tommy solved riddles and puzzles at such a young age, and succeeded and succeeded when all the others around him faded - when the people that had grown up with him became entirely different captives. He watched as Tommy and Tubbo became the inseparable duo that would race through timed trials to try to solve the mysteries - like games; but gambling with your life. 

They weren't games. He saw the fear and the terror in the young boys as the Pit Owners would explain the rules with ferocious smirks; saw the complete and utter panic when Tommy messed up on a math equation he  shouldn't  know, because he was too young to know - they were too young to know, but they did because of necessary circumstances. 

He learned where Tommy had been taught his math - trial and error; trial and error. He learned how Tubbo knew about random facts - why their minds were so quick, why Tommy despised any sort of hourglasses.

There were hundreds of them. Hundreds of hourglasses; different for each puzzle, each occasion, all of them slowly counting down the time to Tommy's demise. To Tubbo's demise. He watched as Tommy watched people fail with a pale face that had never seen the sun. He watched as the life diminished and rekindled in the young boy's cyan eyes. 

He saw the moment that Wilbur was introduced to the story; when the fourteen-year-old Elementalist was saved by Tommy and Tubbo that year - the only ones to succeed on their puzzle out of forty-seven different captives.

The rest were killed.

Wilbur was freed.

The song,  My L'manburg,  created by Wilbur in his cell, haunted his memory. The origins were frightening - a story that wasn't real, that told of a place that existed only in Wilbur's mind. He watched Tommy listen to it over and over again, and then repeat it to Tubbo long after Wilbur had been set free. 

He watched as the boys grew older, as their eyes grew fiercer but they retained their ability to laugh. He watched as his wife never reappeared after being taken away when the twins - when  his sons  were four and a half.

He hadn't even known she was pregnant. 

There were tears on his face - flowing freely like a waterfall, and he didn't even try to stop it as he watched Tommy shout for his mother and Tubbo kick and scream at only four years old when she didn't reappear; when the guards came in and told the two boys, alone in the jail cell, that their mother - that  Kristin  - was gone. 

There was pride and somberness in his chest as he watched Tommy kill an older Elementalist to protect the one person who had been at his side for years and years. Pride, because Tommy had been seven and had done the impossible. Somberness, because he was a failure.

He was a failure of a husband, a failure of a father, and a failure of a person.

He should have known that Tommy was lying that day in the glade. He should have known that the nightmares were probably memories.

He should have known, should have  guessed , should have seen Kristin in the two boys that were his biological sons.

He hadn't.

There was pride in his chest as he watched two boys escape.

There was sadness in his heart as he saw them, as twelve-year-old boys, look upon the sunset for the first time in their lives, with blood on their faces and tired grins on their mouths.

There was grief in his soul as he watched the two boys limp away from the mouth of the cave - one carrying a sword that didn't look right; that had the wrong weight about it but was held as naturally as a regular sword. 

There were tears in his eyes as he pictured the two boys lying on the floor of their cell, with blood on their necks from a metal collar and bruises on their bodies ready to give up.

He should have done something.

He should have been better.

Maybe he could have saved Kristin. Maybe he could have saved his two kids from a fate worse than death. 

Chapter Text

"Fuck off," he muttered, burying himself in the book on how paper had been created, Tubbo looking up from his position on the bed, his head buried in a book as well. 

A knock sounded. Then again.

"I  said ," he said louder, knowing that whoever was on the other side had heard him the first time. "Fuck. Off."

"Tommy," Phil said. "I need to talk to you and Tubbo."

"No," he said. "Fuck. Off."

Phil left.

Tommy returned to his reading. Reading was easier. He may not seem like that type of person to read, because he didn't do it for fun - he did it to distract himself from the realities of life.

Which, at this moment, was facing his coven and Tubbo's. Which, he supposed, was why they'd barricaded themselves in the room for the past few days and hadn't allowed anything in except food, which had been given to them grudgingly after Dream and Wilbur got into a screaming match that lasted nearly four hours and ended with Techno drawing his sword. Dream had wanted to withhold the food to flush them out - he could have easily gotten  in , of course, but everyone was afraid of the two boys fleeing - because, after all, unbeknownst to Tommy until after the Seeing was finished, he'd completed the bond and could not wander as far away as his coven members as he wanted to.

He had known Phil was his father the moment that he'd saw the name on the headstone. The first and last name of his mother - the same one he'd shared with his father. 

He had known he wasn't truly an Elementalist - not ever since he was born without an Elementalist mark and had stolen power from Tubbo when they were twelve in order to escape. Not ever since he realized that he could  feel  the powers of the others around him - and perhaps dip his hand into their personal magic flow and take it.

That's what he was. A Siphon. He knew everyone knew it; though the word was never brought up in the brief exchanges he held with the household. Tubbo had known it for longer; which is why the smaller boy - his  brother  - had been so insistent and saying that Tommy didn't have magic.

Which was true.

He didn't.

He stole it from others. 

And maintained a permanent bond with Tubbo that had resulted in an Elementalist mark on his neck and a coven to bond with. He didn't know how that worked, and wasn't going to ask. It had appeared there since - since  That Day ; when he'd stopped breathing in Tubbo's arms and had inexplicably drawn on his brother's power to save himself.

Tommy always felt terrible; stealing magic. That was why he never did it unless absolutely necessary - or, like that day in the glade; on accident because of a burst of emotion. 

Three hours later, when it was nearing sunset - but the sun hadn't touched the horizon yet; as seen from their shared window, Tommy and Tubbo still had yet to say a single word to each other, each concentrated on their work.

"Tommy?" Tubbo whispered finally.

"What?" he snapped irritably, itching to get out of the conversation and go back to the history of the printing press; a very fascinating piece of machinery. 

"We're gonna have to talk about it eventually," Tubbo said, his voice trembling only a little. "And soon. They're not gonna respect our space forever."

He snorted. "I don't want to talk about it, Tubbo. That's why I was lying to them in the first place."

He didn't like thinking about it. He didn't like thinking of the slimy hands on his forehead, of the feeling of someone rifling through his head, of being unable to do anything as he watched Tubbo relive every horrible moment that he'd gone through.

He didn't like that they had torn through his mind like it was nothing - that they knew every secret, every  inner thought  he carried. Those were private - intrusive thoughts that not even Tubbo knew about. The love for his family - for his mother; misty but still there - for his brother; his best friend. 

Phil  was  his father. He knew it - Tubbo hadn't. He'd been trying to keep it secret from both of them. He saw a lot of fatherly love from the older man despite him not knowing that Tommy was his son - the same for Wilbur and Techno, who jokingly called him 'dad' sometimes. He didn't really  care , he wasn't jealous that they did - it was just, well - sometimes he wondered what it would have been like, having two caring parents that had been there his whole life. He knew only a bit about motherly love - her teachings had mostly been warnings about the Pit and what he was growing up in.

He didn't know how things were going to change.

A knock sounded at the door, different then the first one.

"Fuck off," he said loudly. 

"It's Sapnap," the fire Elementalist said through the door, and Tommy saw Tubbo's head perk up. "I - um - we don't have to talk. But I have something for you."

"No fucking way," Tommy said.

"Hey, Sapnap!" Tubbo chirped, already opening the door.

"Dammit, Tubbo," Tommy muttered, standing up and glowering at the shorter man, who, despite being older and more powerful, cringed under his glare. 

"I was - um - doing research on the Pit," Sapnap babbled, raising his hand and holding out two very familiar pieces of metal. "And, um, I wanted to see what kinds of weapons you guys used - you know, from the memories. So, um, I went to the University - " Tommy and Tubbo both winced. " - and, um, I found these in the weapons center. I sorta understand why you're so shitty with regular swords, Tubbo."

Tommy stared as Sapnap held out the very-familiar shaped sword. It was unlike regular swords - had a different balance to it; a different weight that made it extremely difficult to use the swords that Techno had offered him. It was meant to be like that - to stop the people who came into the Pit at a higher age from having an advantage on those who had never held a sword in their lives. It made it so people like himself; who were freed, could never use that skill with regular swords.

They were irregular. Abnormal. Much like himself.

He took one of them wordlessly. Tubbo took the other; their hands closing around the grips with practiced ease. He could almost picture himself in a locker room before the arena, ready to face whatever kid he would have to kill or maim or beat to fight his way back to Tubbo's side. His hand shook slightly on the hilt, and Sapnap blanched.

"I'm sorry," the Elementalist said. "I should have thought - of  course  it would induce such things - I'm  such  an idiot - "

"It's fine," he said through gritted teeth. Gritted, because he was struggling not to remember the blood price he'd had to pay over all his years. Gritted, because he was holding a sword that had no doubt been used to kill dozens of - 

No. He breathed quieter, remembering what his mother had told him when he was little. Swords were  tools , and tools couldn't  think , couldn't make decisions - it wasn't the tools that drew the blood, it was the act of the person using the tool that made the decision and spilled the blood. The sword was just a tool. The user was the final determinator. 

He felt a grin spread across his face as he spun it expertly, making Sapnap jump back in surprise, a small bit of smoke rising from his trigger-happy arson hands. "How about we try again?" he said to Tubbo. "Just like old times?"

"Epic," Tubbo said, and then Tommy saluted him smartly before turning around and opening the window, jumping onto the metal roof with his bare feet, feeling the cool metal beneath his arches. 

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?" Sapnap called from the doorway, shifting in place - but he probably knew that he couldn't stop Tommy; nor Tubbo, as the smaller boy leaped out the window and landed on the flat stretch of roof that made up the portion of the first story that didn't have a second story. 

"Trying to kill each other," Tommy said, only half-joking, as he closed the window from the outside so that they wouldn't accidentally shatter it. Wouldn't want to make Phil  too  mad, after all. 

"DREAM!" he heard Sapnap shout, the raven-haired man rushing out of view, his voice muffled by the walls. Tubbo stifled a laugh.

"When was the last time we did this?" Tommy asked his friend, shifting about ten paces away. The area span of the roof was only about three hundred feet - twenty feet by fifteen feet - and wasn't really all that large, but they'd worked in smaller spaces before. It would work.

"I dunno," Tubbo said, moving around and trying to do the same as Tommy - test the surroundings; how slippery his bare feet on cold metal would be - luckily it wasn't wet - if there was any potential wind. "At least five years?"

He sighed. "It was a rhetorical question, Big T. We left weapons like these back - you know."

"Well, if we gotta learn how to use swords, I would rather use these than learn how to use a sword all over again," Tubbo said helplessly. 

"True," Tommy agreed. They both paused, deep in thought. "Well, minus well start beating each other to shit. Should be fun." 

"Yes, fun," Tubbo said, in a tone that was so like Techno's that Tommy nearly burst out laughing. 

The thing was, it  had  been fun. After the trainers let them go after the first few years, they were generally left to their own individuals, and months and months of trying to kill each other - not quite literally, not  quite  - had lead to eventually being able to hold their own. 

Techno had said to wait for the opponent to come to you.

Tommy didn't believe in things like that. In the arena, in the  Pit , one's next meal was based on how well they performed. Wait long enough, and the crowd would get bored. The Pit Owners didn't like it when the crowd was bored. So if Tommy stalled, he would often get a meager meal - win or lose. 

So Tommy stepped forward and swung the sword at Tubbo's head. 

Faster than he swung, Tubbo's sword arm came up and stopped the sharp metal from slicing his head off. A wicked grin crossed his brother's face, and Tommy felt his own appear on his.

This was the one thing that he had happy memories of. Maybe his mother - but he barely remembered her. Times like  this , with Tubbo, training, getting better - having  fun . 

He cursed under his breath as his hand slipped, and Tubbo watched him worriedly. "I'm fine," he said. "Just keep going." Tubbo stared at him wordlessly, before running at him and faking a kick at his abdomen - which Tommy expected, catching his ankle before it could hook under his thigh and nail him to the ground. He shoved Tubbo's foot back towards the boy - to his credit, Tubbo caught himself gracefully, only stumbling from lack of practice gracefully - but this...this was amazing. 

Sure, at first it was slow. The parries, the swings - they were memories needed to be remembered. But the muscles remembered quickly, and slowly their swings and blocks improved, and slowly, their dance of blades grew faster and faster.

It wasn't pretty. Not by far. It wasn't the glorified, precise swings that Techno and Dream demonstrated. It wasn't graceful and smooth and fluid like a ballroom dance. It wasn't  perfect .

It wasn't meant to be. It was scrappy and desperate and much like how a cornered dog would fight - full of dirty trips and hits and recklessness. There was no  time  to think about the next movement - if you thought about what you were going to do too far ahead, your enemy could predict your movements.

And Tommy liked being unpredictable.

He was caught in a fierce parry with Tubbo, bearing down on the shorter boy - that didn't give him an advantage; no  way , he knew Tubbo was just as much of a scrappy fighter as he was - when a burst of yelling surprised him and caused his sword to slip.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

That was Phil. And Tommy watched as his sword fell off the edge, cursing his butterfingers; watching it clatter onto the ground ten feet from where Phil, Techno, Wilbur, Sapnap, Dream, and George were standing in the backyard patio.

"What the fuck!" he yelled. "You're gonna make me lose this fight!"

He fell on his back and kicked up with his knee, managing to knee Tubbo directly in his gut and causing the boy to roll away, wheezing. Tommy grinned victoriously, and then cringed as Tubbo rolled to his feet, glaring at him mischievously - there was no real murderous intent in his brown orbs, only foolish play. 

"Dammit Tubbo," he grumbled. 

"TUBBO!" Dream yelled. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL TOMMY!"

"YES!" Tubbo yelled, swinging at his head. Tommy ducked, rolling to the side and feeling the  whoosh  of air. 

"WHAT?" Wilbur shouted, his voice full of alarm.

"HE COULDN'T FUCKING KILL ME IF HE TRIED, BITCH!" Tommy screamed joyously, running straight at Tubbo - who paused, surprised. Tommy fell as he ran, sliding off the edge of the metal roof and falling towards the ground. He heard Phil yell something, and suddenly magic filled the air - magic that he latched onto and pushed away in annoyance. Tommy rolled to a stop, grabbing his sword and turning towards the sky just in time to hear the jarring sound of metal-against-metal as he parried Tubbo's leaping battle-cry of a blow. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Techno with his sword out; Dream as well - but they were all full of hesitation, unsure. 

Tubbo landed on the ground far less gracefully than Tommy; he had never been one for heights. He rolled to his feet almost instantly, brushing the dirt out of his face with his other hand. 

That gave Tommy an idea. He'd done this with sand on multiple occasions - perhaps it would work against Tubbo? The rooms they'd trained in had always been made of stone, so he'd never used this trick against the boy before, but he was sure that Tubbo had watched all his matches - he'd certainly watched all of Tubbo's.

So when Tubbo came at him again, he turned to the side and pretended that the muscles in his arm gave out before falling to the ground and in doing so - spinning his heel deep into the ground and causing dirt and dry dust to spurt up from where his foot had landed. Tubbo coughed in surprise as it hit him directly in the face, and Tommy caught his hand, turning his brother's wrist so that the joints groaned and Tubbo had to awkwardly turn so his wrist wouldn't snap.

"I win," Tommy whispered.

Tubbo rolled his eyes as Tommy let him go, using his other hand to wipe the dirt from his eyes. "That was a dirty trick."

"I used dirt, of course it was dirty," Tommy said with a small grin. 

"That was a  rhetorical  question - " Tubbo started in annoyance.

"Boys," Phil said loudly.

Tommy winced, having forgotten about the bystanders. Slowly, he turned towards his biological father, trying and failing to keep the smirk off his face as he elbowed Tubbo in the side. 

Oops . 

Phil looked angry - furious, pissed; though mostly relieved. Techno had a surprised expression, Wilbur looked like he was about to faint, Sapnap looked abashed - made sense, he had given Tommy and Tubbo the weapons - George kept turning his head to look between a very-angry Phil and Tommy, and Dream just looked  delighted . 

That man was a psychopath.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck was that?" Phil demanded, his voice slightly higher than normal.

"Uh," Tubbo said lamely, glancing at Tommy for help.

"We were reminiscing," Tommy said.

"Yeah!" Tubbo jumped in. "We were reminding - remembering - rescinding - " He paused, gathering himself. "Repeating our actions."

"That's what it means," Tommy said wryly.

"Oh, shut up, man."

"You just tried to murder each other," Phil said warily.

Tommy scoffed. "Oh,  please . Tubbo could never murder me. He's too weak."

"Hey!" Tubbo said, shoving him in the shoulder. Tommy snickered.

"You're avoiding the question."

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the ground. "I mean, sure, it looked deadly, but nobody was ever going to get seriously hurt."

"If Tubbo hadn't blocked the first swing - " Dream said.

"I  knew  he could, though," Tommy said. "We've done this before. How else do you think I survived my fights in the arena, Dream? Practice." Dream looked slightly crestfallen at this statement. "And you can't hold back in a life or death situation. So we never did."

"Kid has a point," Techno said. "He never had the time or prestige to learn like we did, Phil. That's why he's such a scrappy fighter."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tommy muttered. 

" However ," Techno continued, with a small glare in Tommy's direction. "You also scared us half to death. Dream and I nearly tried to rush in a break it up."

Tommy's eye twitched anxiously. "Phil already tried to interfere."

"What?" Wilbur frowned.

"He tried to use his stupid wind magic," Tommy said. "I blocked it."

" Right ," Phil all but growled. "Tubbo, go home with Dream. Tommy and I need to talk."

"What?" Tommy said, aghast. "Why?"

"Well, unless you want to have this familial discussion with Dream and the rest," Phil said. "Let Tubbo go."

"But Tubbo is part of my family!" Tommy said.

"And he's also part of Dream's," Phil said, his voice softening. George shifted, looking uncomfortable. " That  discussion will be fully held another day when we can get both of you in the room without having you murder each other. Unless you want to have this discussion  right  here,  right  now, with anything to hear and listen in on, get in the house and  sit down ."

Tommy glanced at Tubbo, slightly mortified. His friend shrugged.

"Just listen to him," Tubbo muttered. "He has a point. I've spent long enough in your room anyhow."

Tommy nodded briskly - glared at Phil - and then marched right past him, tossing his sword onto the living room floor and sitting down loudly in the dining room chair, pulling the closest piece of paper over to him - it happened to be Tubbo's notes on  bees , for god's sake. 

He missed Tubbo.

No, no, he didn't. Tubbo would be fine without him. He didn't like Dream per se - well, he didn't  know  Dream, but the masked man seemed like a stuck-up green bastard, so he was just making assumptions - but he trusted Techno's archnemesis enough to protect his brother. Better than he could, anyway. 

The sun had touched the horizon by the time that Phil came in, a storm of quiet rage and acceptance; Wilbur looking hesitant and watching anywhere  but  Tommy; and Techno - well, he was just Techno, with a straight face that gave nothing away. 

"So," Phil said, with a varying degree of calm as the four of them sat around the dining chair. Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to look at him - or anyone, really. He settled for tracing his eyes around the bees and the beehive that Tubbo had drawn on the sides of the pages. "When were you going to tell us?"

"That what?" Tommy asked. "I didn't cheat? I thought you knew that already."

Phil had a sort of fury around him that Tommy hadn't seen in years - which is why he was responding with humor; his go-to thing when he was scared and lonely. "You. Know. What. I. Mean."

"Phil, stop," Techno said, as Tommy clenched his fists below the table and tried not to let the tears drip from his eyes. "You're scaring him."

" I'm  scaring  him ?" Phil said. "He  lied  to me, Technoblade! To  us !"

"I BARELY KNOW YOU!" he screamed. "I BARELY KNOW WHO YOU FUCKING ARE!"

"I'm your  dad ."

"You're my biological father, and nothing more," he snarled right back. Phil winced, and Wilbur cringed, seeming to not want to be there. Techno watched the yelling match with an unfathomless expression. "Just like my mother."

Phil was out of his seat in a matter of seconds, his hand coming up. Out of pure instinct, Tommy cringed lower in his seat and turned his face to the side, expecting the hit that never came. He winced when he saw the tears on Phil's face and Wilbur's distraught expression.

"Don't say that about Kristin," Phil choked out. " Please ."

"I didn't know her," he found himself saying. "Because she died before I had a chance to  truly  know her, Phil. Attachment kills in the Pit. It's a wonder I didn't die down there trying to fucking protect Tubbo."

"Is that why you have those scars?"

Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. "What?"

"The scars," Wilbur whispered. "On your neck and back."

"Yes," he said. "Yes, that's why I have them. Because I refused to let go of my best friend."

"Your brother," Techno clarified.

"He's my best friend too," Tommy snapped. "And to answer your first question - I would never have told you that you were my birth father." He looked away, ashamed. "Tubbo didn't even know. He just found my - our mother's grave in the University."

"So that's where you were the night before your final," Wilbur mused.

"You knew?"

Wilbur snorted, shaking his head. "Of course I knew, Tommy. I heard your feet on the roof."

"And you didn't tell me?" Phil said.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "I didn't, no. I trusted him on the streets."

"Thanks," Tommy muttered. Wilbur didn't deign to respond to that. 

"Why didn't you tell Tubbo?" Techno asked. "He didn't seem mad at you."

"He wasn't," Tommy said. "Because we're both afraid of attachment."

"Why?" Phil whispered.

"It gets people killed down there," Tommy said, staring at his palms - at the small white lines that made up years and years of sword scars and broken calluses. "You find a friend, they hold it against you. You get hurt, you die. That's how it went." He snorted softly, shaking his head. "Like I said. I don't get how Tubbo and I  both  got out of there."

"So you got all those - white lines - from your attachment?" Wilbur said skeptically.

"No," Tommy said regretfully. "Maybe a quarter of them. Another quarter from the fights. Another quarter from the hourglass running out."

"That's not the full whole," Techno said, his eyes flashing to Wilbur - as if he knew, as if he understood.

"Yeah, are you bad at math or something?" Wilbur snarked irritably. 

"Well, if you must  fucking  know, the other quarter is from people like  you ." Tommy regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth - but it was too late, too late as Wilbur's expression became one of shocked horror, and Phil looked up - was he crying? - and even Technoblade reacted with a note of surprise; his eyebrows furrowing.

"What?" Wilbur whispered, into the silence. 

"Yeah," he said with a humorless laugh. "How old was I - ten, I think? When I went into that arena and fought so you would live? I made that choice, Wilbur. I know what they said to you. That we were forced to do that and we would die if we failed. That's one big fat fucking lie. We did that so someone would get out and say that there were  children  that grew up within those walls and killed people when they were six years old. We did that because we were selfless and stupid little idiots who thought that they would live that day. The people who failed didn't die. Not all of them. In all my years of seeing people free Elementalists, I've only seen someone succeed once. Me. And that was to free  you , Wilbur Soot. I put my damned sanity on the line so you could get out of there and  tell  people. Maybe I shouldn't have, because you didn't do fucking anything."

Wilbur stared at him with wide eyes. "I - " he cut himself off, shaking his head. "I - I tried, Tommy, I really did."

"They killed me," he said. "They killed me and I stopped breathing in Tubbo's arms and by the gift of whatever higher power was bestowed upon us  I was brought back  to the living, and I found out that ' well fuck, Tommy , you don't have no magic like you thought - you're a Siphon. Not that that's helpful, just saying, but you are'."

Phil stared at him wordlessly.

Wilbur gulped. "Oh. You know, that makes sense now that I think about it."

"Yeah," Tommy said. "Well, it didn't fucking help me and then I realized that  all Siphons are evil , so I guess deep down, I'm just evil!"

Techno glanced over at Phil. "There hasn't ever been an account of a good Siphon, has there?" he asked, and it's  not really  a question.

Phil shook his head, and Tommy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I don't really give a shit what you guys decree as  good  and  evil . Your system seems to be corrupt anyway."

"What?" Wilbur asked.

He snorted. "Yeah, idiots. Your  system  is corrupt."

"Is it?" Techno asked.

"And here I thought you were the fucking smart one, Technoblade," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, your system is fucking corrupt. As proven when I had a Retention  hold me down and rifle through my goddamn head . There was quite literally no proof that Tubbo or I had cheated. They were just mad that we were smart."

Phil winced. "Tommy, I'm sorry about that."

"Don't worry, kid," Techno said with a small coughing-snort. "He won't be spilling your secrets. I killed him."

Just about every head whipped around to face Techno.

"You WHAT?" Phil said, taken aback.

"YOU WHAT?" Tommy shouted gleefully.

"Excuse me?" Wilbur spoke. "What the fuck?"

Chapter Text

Breakfast the next morning was solemn and cold. Wilbur attempted to make a small bit of conversation - mostly just bashing Tommy for leaving the window open and having all the cold air escape so the house was full of humid hot air. 

Tommy ignored Wilbur, and they lapsed into silence as he picked at his bread and jam, for once in his life not hungry. Secretly, he was glad that Wilbur wasn't treating him like a china doll - that things were mostly the same between them, whereas Phil and Techno treaded carefully around him. This was exactly what he  hadn't  wanted to happen.

"So," Phil said, glancing at Tommy carefully. "The Elementalists gave us and another coven -  not  Dream's - a mission to complete. I'm going to refuse - "

"Don't do that," Tommy said, glancing up at the older man. 

"What?" Phil said.

"You're doing it because of me," Tommy said softly. "Don't do that. I'm the same damned person I was a week ago and apparently, only Wilbur seems to see that. Nothing has changed."

"Tommy, everything has changed," Phil said. 

"Not for me," he said coolly. "Very little has changed. The only different thing is that all of you now know my past. And you can't treat me like fucking shattered glass. This was six years ago. I'm fucking over it now." Which, to be fair, wasn't true - not that they needed to know that. 

"You're my  son ."

"No," he snapped. "Okay, fine. Maybe biologically. But you are  not  my dad." Just about everyone winced from that - including Techno. "And you're a good person, Phil. I'm sure anybody else would be lucky to have you as their dad." He let out another breath. "I'm sorry, but you can't be that person for me."

"I can try," Phil whispered. 

"Shouldn't you be grateful that you  have  a father?" Wilbur demanded angrily.

He snorted. "I wish I didn't have one. It would make things so much easier." Saying those words hurt - Phil didn't deserve that to be said to him. He didn't  deserve  have Phil as part of his family, pseudo or not. He couldn't save his mother, and now he was so afraid that he would be forced with the same choices; the same situation. "If you're not accepting the mission because of me, then change your choice and fucking accept it. I know it's about the Pit." Philza startled, turning towards him. "I want to find out where it's located this year and fucking take it out."

"Okay," Phil said finally. "Let's do this."

The other coven turned out to be friends with his coven; though Tommy had never met them in his life. There were three of them - four, technically, but one was missing. There was an orange-haired man named Fundy - he was the fire Elementalist - a tall, deep-voiced man named Eret - he was the nature Elementalist - and the coven leader, a slightly-shorter-than-Tommy blue-haired man named Scott - the water Elementalist. He  did  know, however, that to go on missions you had to have a completed coven - or at least, have finalized your bond with your coven.

Which made no sense.

But while talking about it - something about a cave and an outpost to take out and guards - he got the feeling that the seven of them were avoiding talking about something, Wilbur the most. Sometimes he saw Wilbur glancing at the eighth chair with a touch of sadness in his eyes before he saw Tommy staring and hurriedly turned away. He didn't understand - and while he made jokes and pushed many boundaries, he knew in his heart not to ask or push this one.

Someone was missing. He didn't know who, or how, but he knew that there was probably a reason that both of their covens had been chosen to take on this mission.

It was probably personal. 

"Oh, this is Tommy, by the way," Philza said after a few hours of talking - Tommy hadn't said anything; mostly picking at his fingernails and tracing the cracks in the wooden floor of the other coven's house.

"Hi," he muttered. He didn't pay attention to see if there was a response - didn't much care - until he tuned back into the conversation. 

" - magic should work, Phil, and Eret, if you could somehow use vines to -"

"That won't work," he said loudly, stopping all conversation in the room. His fingers tapped on the table loudly.

Three.

Five.

Two.

Four.

One.

"What?" Scott asked him patiently.

Three .

"It won't work," he said, his throat suddenly feeling as if he'd swallowed a pufferfish. Despite there only being three more people in the room, it felt suffocating all of a sudden - as if the air was closing in around him, as if the very  earth  was challenging him,  daring  him to speak his mind, to give away a decade of secrets that had been his life. "They have...things in there. People. People who are able to cancel all magic in the proximity at the expense of the life around them - people, animals, plants." He shrugged. "Those people created the magic blockers in the Pit. I bet they have the same type of people at these outposts if they're so important."

Five.

Two.

Scott glanced at Fundy and Eret, who looked confused. "How do you know this?"

Four.

One.

"Experience," he whispered. 

Three.

Five.

Two.

Scott swallowed, going white. "Ah." He looked over at Wilbur. "Can you confirm this?"

Four.

"In a way," Wilbur said, glancing at Tommy with a nervous expression. "I didn't know exactly why it never worked, but I couldn't use my magic when I was there - maybe a few brief spurts at times, but nothing more, and nothing to its full extent."

One.

Three.

Someone grabbed his hand, stopping the endless tapping. He looked over to see Phil's calloused - yet warm - hand wrapped around his wrist. There were a few seconds of silence, and then Tommy yanked his hand out of his  father's  grip, putting it in his lap with his other hand. He saw Phil wince; saw Scott stare at them awkwardly.

His fingers didn't tap anymore. 

"I...see," Scott said carefully. "Well, I guess a magical approach won't work. Any ideas?"

"Just storm in there and fuck them up?" Fundy suggested, making a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He saw Techno glance at him briefly before leaning forward, interest on his face. 

"Don't we sort of...need a plan?" Eret said cautiously.

"If I've learned anything," Tommy said abruptly. "If you have a plan, then you can be made to be predictable. So if we want to go in there, and as Fundy said,  fuck them up , then we need a layout. A plan would mean that everything would follow one single, predictable path. And if I know  anything  about them, then it's don't be fucking predictable."

"Tommy, I have a question," Phil asked him later that night, as they were gathering up things; preparing to leave.

"What?" he asked warily.

"It's about Kristin." Tommy relaxed. Okay, Phil at least deserved that much. "You said she died when you were five, right?"

"Yeah."

"We didn't have a completed coven then - I barely knew about Wilbur and Techno was still in the University, but I felt the bond that we had between us snap sixteen years ago." Phil looked at him. "Why?"

He thought about it for a second, putting down the sharpening stone he'd been using to sharpen his sword. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't know much about Elementalists, but if you said that the bond snapped when she got captured, and not when she actually died - well, I can't help you."

Phil sighed. "Thanks anyway." He turned to go, and paused in the doorway, turning back towards Tommy. "You're a good kid, Tommy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Tommy didn't have a response as he watched Phil leave. 

And it came down to...this?

There had been a tip-off about an outpost twenty miles north of the city; towards the rising mountains. The admins had passed the tipoff to Phil and Scott to take it out and find any information regarding the Pit.

He wasn't even supposed to be in the fight. He was supposed to be circling around the back with Fundy to knock out any attempt escapees.

But now Fundy was on the ground with blood pouring out of a nasty cut in his forehead and Tommy stood over him protectively, his Pit sword raised as he stared down the one person that he'd thought he'd never see again. 

He didn't know Fundy very well, but while every bone in his body was screaming at him,  clamoring  at him to leave - he couldn't. Not while there was someone that he could protect on the ground, not while another's life was in his hands.

He wanted his coven here. They could defeat him. They had the strength, the bravery - to do this deed. He did not.

They hadn't expected a cordon of guards - and their leader - to be waiting for them.

Tommy panted heavily, wanting,  needing  reprieve - but there was no fallback, nothing given. Blood covered his sword, dripped onto his hand. Bodies - maybe a dozen of them, all slain by him and Fundy.

But the last one...

"We meet again, TommyInnit."

He didn't like that name out of anybody's mouth except Tubbo's. He winced, his sword hand shaking, and he watched with a horrified stare as the man named Arbaaz Lloyd traced a steel fingernail on his metal sword, making a high-pitched grating sound.

The forest was quiet, otherwise. Techno and Phil and the rest - they were all fighting the real battle; questioning the  real  individuals - they wouldn't be there for a good long while.

He had no magic to help him. There came his weakness - when others did not have magic, nor did he.

"I had hoped you and your pathetic boy of a brother were dead," Arbaaz sighed, shaking his head - and then raising his black eyes to stare at Tommy's cyan ones, chilling him to the bone. "But, I guess not. There are legends of you in the Pit, by the way. The others talk about you like you're some kind of  hero , some kind of great myth that will come and rescue him." He sneered. "You should come home, Tommy. We all miss your brilliant depictions."

"That's not my home," he choked out thickly.

Arbaaz tsked. "Silly boy," he chided. "Don't you get it? Nobody cares about you out here. You were safe in there."

"You murdered children," he said, lowering himself on the balls of his feet as he prepared for an attack. "You murdered dozens of people."

"Yes, but it was for the spectacle!" Arbaaz said with innocently-wide eyes as he gestured around. "Only those smart enough,  good  enough,  powerful enough  should be left to survive!"

"Then throw yourself into that fucking arena and see how long you last," Tommy hissed, feeling the tears of resentment creep into his vision.

Arbaaz's smile widened. "Oh, Tommy. Don't you see? I  was  in the arena. For nearly eighteen years - until I  understood . Only the best can survive. The rest must be ratted out, taken down - killed, maimed - who cares, really? I became better, I  understood  what happened. What needs to happen in the future. I changed the Pit to become better - and you can too." He held out a hand for Tommy to take it. "We can be great together, you know. If you want to stop children from dying - fine, we can do that together as well. But you can't stop it with your pitiful friends." He motioned at Fundy, who hadn't moved. "Only I can help you free those from the Pit. And we can do that together as well."

Tommy snorted, though the offer tempted him - he knew that Arbaaz was lying. "Fuck you," he said, pissed. "I stopped trusting you the day you  murdered my mother ."

Arbaaz's dark eyes widened in surprise, and he had just enough of a reaction left to lift up his sword so that Tommy didn't slit his throat.

Chapter Text

He slipped in blood and got up. Always had - always would. 

Part of him felt like he was drowning - as if this sword fight with the person that had tortured him, had been in charge of him for his entire life - was merely a dream, and he was underwater, struggling for air.

Every cut he received from a sloppy swing, every save he made as he gasped for air seemed fake. The pain seemed distorted -  wrong, different. 

Blankly, he wondered if this was where he was going to die. Arbaaz's mouth was moving as they struggled for the upper hand, but he was tuning it out as the world faded around him for seconds at a time - he didn't even know how he was fighting. He didn't know how he wasn't dead.

There were bodies on the ground - bodies like the one of the little girl named Ash who had died that day; though not by his hand. Bodies like those of the children who had been born and who had never seen the sunlight. Bodies; pale and lifeless, blood seeping from their wounds. Children -  children like he had been, who did not deserve a life full of pain and hurt.

Innocence ruined at such a young age. 

He slipped in the blood and fell on his back, staining his new white shirt and bringing his palm up to brace the flat side of the sword as Arbaaz bore down on him, with gritted teeth and wild, crazy eyes. His hand slipped; a long stripe of blood slicing down the center of his palm - hurting, grounding him. He felt the mud and whatever other liquid that was below him seep into his hair, his pants, his shoes - how fucking gross.

"Your mother's death was delicious," Arbaaz sneered. "Full of pain and spite and mixed with that hideous emotion called love."

He pushed Arbaaz away with his knee, jumping up. "You're a monster," he hissed, his ankle slipping in the ground. 

"I am not the one who murdered children," Arbaaz said.

"YES YOU DID!" he howled, shaking with anger-rage-fear -  no, not fear, he was not afraid  -

"Not with my own bare hands," Arbaaz said.

Time seemed to stop. Tommy paused, his sword at his side, horror flooding through him like an unstoppable waterfall. Arbaaz's grin widened, and he raised his blade, aiming it for Tommy's neck, and he was too far gone to see it coming - 

He winced as the drawing of the sword filled his ears, and he glanced slightly to the left to see the shocked gaze of the Pit Owner and the sword that was over his shoulder, blocking the swing that would have killed him. That should have killed him. That he would have let kill him.

Tears started to flow down his face, and he stumbled away, falling onto his ass and dropping his sword, trying to contain the panic that filled him - trying not to feel at the power that was in the air around him as Techno stepped up behind him, behind  Phil , whose sword was currently crossed with Arbaaz's. 

"Hey, Tommy," Wilbur said, and  fuck  his stupid reactions, because Tommy flinched so hard that his neck hurt. "It's okay. It's alright." He felt the older man kneel down next to him, despite all the mud and grossness that littered the ground. Wilbur was smart enough not to reach for him to touch him - Tommy wouldn't have known how to react to that.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Phil growled, and Tommy had  never  seen Phil so angry, not even that day that they talked - because looking, back, Phil had been sad-angry and now he was mad-angry, and Tommy didn't  like  angry people, not now. 

"I didn't do anything," Arbaaz said, but he sounded frazzled and his eyes were searching for an escape, and Tommy turned his head and saw Eret bend down by Fundy, Scott keeping his crossbow aimed at Arbaaz. 

"He's alive," Eret said, his voice sounding relieved. "Just a nasty head scratch." Scott seemed to breathe easier, but then his eyes narrowed in on Arbaaz and the man in question backed up hurridly, only to be met with a sword prodding his back - Techno's sword. 

"Clearly, you did fucking  something ," Phil said, gesturing at Tommy again - and once again, Tommy winced at the sudden movement.

"Killed my mom," he said under his breath, and Wilbur looked at him.

"He what?"

"Killed my mom," he said again, breaking into a sudden shiver. "Y'know, Phil's wife and shit." Still too quiet for Phil to hear - loud enough to see Wilbur's face go white.

Phil was looking back at them when Wilbur looked up. "What did Tommy say?" the older man asked semi-patiently.

Wilbur gulped, looking between the shaking Tommy and the angry father. "He - um, well, he killed Kristin, apparently." Phil's expression went shock-sadness-anger-hatred as he spun on Arbaaz, who swallowed nervously.

"Give him shit," Tommy said again, gleefulness in his tone - before passing out, hands catching him before he fell.

It wasn't his kill to make, in the end.

Perhaps it had never been.

It was warm and sunny when he awoke. His eyes were closed, but there was that warm reddish-orange glow about his eyelids that made him inherently realize that the sun was shining through the open window. He shifted his hand to rub at his eyes as he opened them, wincing in pain as he glanced down at the hand that was wrapped in bandages. 

Oh, right. He'd cut his hand. 

Well,  he  hadn't. Arbaaz had.

He really hoped that shithead was dead. By the look on Philza's face - one of the last things he remembered - he had no doubt it had been a long and painful one. 

He sat up on the bed, his hands resting on the plush mattress below him. His heart felt light in his chest as he stared out at the setting sun, the noises of the city never sounding better; not even when he had first entered the city and seen more people than he'd ever seen in his life. He yawned, getting out of bed and wincing, urging his good hand - his left one - up to his face to press gently below his eye, and wincing at the tenderness that came from the light touches. Tommy sighed, staring down at the clean bandages adorning his palm and upper forearm, spinning his body so his legs were out of the bed. Every part of his body felt sore and ready to die, but he got up anyway, immediately almost collapsing from the sudden pain that shot up his ankles.

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered, limping to the doorway. One leg injured - his left - and one arm - his right. This was shit. He felt like shit. The morning glow he'd felt had vanished with his happiness, and now he was just plain grumpy.

Tommy opened the door and peered out of it. At the end of the hallway, Wilbur's door was open, revealing an empty room. Techno's door was shut - then again, it was always shut, but Tommy didn't hear anyone snoring or anyone sharpening their swords or any pages of any books turning when he stood and listened, so he thought that maybe Techno wasn't there either. Phil's room was on the other side of the house, but if Wilbur and Techno weren't in their rooms, he got the feeling that his - that Phil wasn't either.

He had to grab ahold of the banister to stop himself from falling down it, and ended up walking down it crab-style, one foot in the air and his other hopping down it, because putting pressure on his left heel hurt like hell - and as much as Tommy was used to pain, that didn't mean he was a masochist and enjoyed it. 

He stopped at the bottom of the flight of stairs, tilting his head as he heard the low voices that were coming from behind the closed sliding door of the dining room. He brightened when he heard Tubbo's worried voice - he couldn't quite make out what his brother was saying - through it, and hobbled over, using his good hand to slide the door open.

"Do we have any food?" he asked as the dining room fell into silence. "I'm fucking starving."

"Hey! Language!" an unknown man in the room said, and a shorter man behind him put a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy rolled his eyes - and then was immediately assaulted by a pair of hands crashing into him. He groaned in pain as Tubbo's face smashed into his chest, bruising his already-bruised ribcage. "Big T, man, don't fuckin' do that. I'm injured."

"Oops," Tubbo mumbled, but didn't let go - if anything, he squeezed harder, and Tommy rolled his eyes. "Man, I thought you were dead and shit."

Tommy gasped disbelievingly. "Tubbo, Tubbo! You should know better! One guy can't take out the great TommyInnit!"

"Tommy...Innit?"

Tommy looked up to see Fundy staring at him; Fundy, who had a bandage wrapped around his orange and white-streaked hair. "Oh, that was my stage name. But  Tubbo , seriously! Have more faith in me, my guy!"

"It wasn't  one man , it was quite literally an entire squadron!" Fundy said. "And they took  me  out."

"Yeah, but you're not me, and I'm so awesome and great," Tommy said, pushing Tubbo away when the pain got unbearable. 

Fundy gave him a look, and then turned to Techno, who was sitting by him. "Is he always like this?"

"Yes," Techno deadpanned.

"Yes," Wilbur said with a sigh.

"Definitely," Phil agreed.

"Yep," Tubbo piped up.

"I hate all of you," Tommy muttered, putting his elbow on Tubbo's shoulder, and pasting a disgusted look on his face. In reality, he was trying to take the pressure off of his injured foot.

"Oh! Right, sorry," Tubbo said, immediately catching on and grabbing Tommy's arm. "You shouldn't be standing."

"Except I  am  standing," he pointed out, as Tubbo led him to the only free chair - previously occupied - and pushed him down into it.

"That's because you're a stubborn gremlin child," Wilbur snorted - though, when Tommy looked over, there was a note of fondness in his eyes.

Phil coughed for attention. "Well, I didn't think you'd be up today, Tommy, but you've already met Scott's coven member, Fundy - " Fundy gave a halfhearted wave before reaching up to rub at his temples. Tommy wasn't sure if it was his fault or the fact that he'd gotten sliced there. "Scott, Eret, and Dream's coven - minus Tubbo - are debriefing at the University." He made a small face at that.

"Technically," Techno cut in. "Phil was supposed to. But he's refused to step foot into there ever since you two were - "

"Fucked over?" Tubbo offered, and Techno gave him a small inclination of a nod. 

"Language, you muffin head," one of the other two members in the room said.

Tommy gave him a once-over. He was shorter than Tommy - taller than Tubbo; but shorter than him and Wilbur, therefore Tommy was  clearly  the bigger man here - and had green eyes, brown hair, and wore a black and red pair of robes. "Who the fuck are you supposed to be?"

"LANGUA - "

"Bad, I'll take care of it," the last unknown man said, running a hand through his stuck-up black hair. "I'm Skeppy, and this is Bad. We're another coven."

"Clearly," Tommy said dryly. "Aren't you a bit short to be a coven leader?"

"Aren't you a bit old to have just joined a coven?" Skeppy retorted.

"Hey!" Bad said, stepping in between the two. "Calm down." Skeppy rolled his eyes and made a face. "Skeppy can't help being short - "

"I'm not short!" 

" - and Tommy can't help just meeting his coven members," Bad continued over Skeppy's shrill shout. "This is not what we came here to discuss."

Tommy tapped his fingers against the table. "So. What did we come here to discuss?"

" We  aren't supposed to discuss anything," Wilbur said.

"Yeah, the adults want us kids to leave so they can talk about grown-up stuff," Tubbo said with a sigh. "I was arguing about it before you came in."

He raised an eyebrow. Phil couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Is it about drugs?"

"What?" Phil said. "No!"

"Money?"

"No."

"Sex?"

"WHAT?" Phil all but screeched, looking scandalized. Skeppy was grinning widely - though when Bad glared at him, he plastered a fake frown on his face. "FUCK, no!"

"Then why is it an adult conversation?" Tommy asked, leaning back in his chair. "Drugs are pretty cool, though. Money is pretty boring to talk about - except how little I have - and women are all the same."

Wilbur burst out laughing, slamming his hand against the table. Bad looked completely in shock, Tubbo looked like he'd had this conversation before - he had - Skeppy's jaw was hanging open, Phil had a startled look about him, and Techno had a small smirk on his face. Fundy was laughing as well, but he was drowned out by the extremity of the laugh that Wilbur had. Tommy found a smile form on his face as well. 

"Well, okay," Phil sighed. "It's just coven stuff, Tommy. You wouldn't like it."

"You're right, that sounds boring," he said, standing up. "I'm out."

Chapter Text

The sun had touched the horizon when Wilbur joined him to sit outside his window at the edge of the roof; approximately where he and Tubbo had fought with swords only days prior. Tubbo had stopped by to say goodbye to him before leaving - really, they lived minutes apart - and then Tommy had climbed outside his window and sat down to stare at the sunset.

The echoes of two certain music discs that he'd always played after he won a fight played through his mind, and he shook it off.

Footsteps echoed against the metal in the silence that surrounded him, and Tommy looked over as Wilbur swung his legs over the edge of the roof, staring at the brightly colored skies that painted the heavens.

"I'm sorry," Wilbur said after a while. There was silence as Tommy blinked at him in surprise. "Not for yelling at you," Wilbur amended with a small smirk. "You're a little gremlin child. You deserve that. More so...for jumping to conclusions I shouldn't have. When I was mad at you for lashing out when you had every right to, and I said that my reasoning for being so - well,  lashy  - was because I spent three months in the Pit." Wilbur let out a small breath, adjusting his beanie on top of his scruffy pile of hair. "But I guess it turned out that you were the reason I survived."

"I - I guess so," Tommy said uneasily, not really knowing the proper response.

"And Phil turned out to be your actual dad, so welcome to the family," Wilbur joked, reaching up a hand to punch Tommy in the shoulder. Tommy scowled at him, ignoring the bruise the older man had hit. "And, Tommy, while you might be rude and  childish , it's easy to forget that you're just a teenager after all. I was mad at you for yelling at Phil, but I spent a few days thinking about it and I realize that you're just afraid of attachment."

"I'm not - " he started.

"You are," Wilbur said, but there was only sadness, and not an accusing tone, behind his voice. "And that's okay, Tommy. I never met Kristin, but Phil talks about her a lot - when he's drunk mostly - and she seems like an amazing woman. What happened with your family there must have been horrible. She was your parental figure - and your actual parent. I know you're afraid of what happened to her to happen to Phil." Tommy turned to look Wilbur directly into the softness of his brown eyes, the sun glinting into them. "But I promise you, Tommy, that Techno and I will never let that happen. Phil sees Kristin in both you and Tubbo - he was in denial before, I'm sure - and it's hard when both of you are distancing yourselves from him. You are the only thing that reminds him of his wife. You are his children."

"So are you," Tommy managed, the emotions clouding his throat; tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Fuck, when had he gotten so fucking soft?

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're right - Phil  is  like a dad to Techno and me, but you  are  his biological children. He doesn't love you more than he does Tech or I - I'm not stupid or jealous enough to think that. But he does want to know more about you. I need you to stop putting him through the pain. He is  trying  to respect your wishes by staying his distance, but it's hard for him. It's hard for all of us."

Tommy was silent for a moment as he turned back to stare at the sun, which had half-dipped below the horizon. "Okay," he said finally, finality echoing in his chest below his heart. "I'll do that."

There was a silence as the wind picked up, blowing Tommy's hair into his face, and he cursed under his breath as he ran a hand through it. He needed - he needed to take a knife to it or something; but it always turned out bad until it grew out. Maybe he could ask Phil. 

A warm smile spread across his face, and Tommy closed his eyes and leaned back to bask in the warmth of the final rays of sunlight. 

The silence was, once again, broken by Wilbur.

"I saw the look that you gave when Scott said their coven had been completed, once," Wilbur said slowly. "And I appreciate you not pushing. But I asked Scott if I could tell you, and he said that it was my place to tell you as well...so I guess you could say that there was second reasoning for finding the location of the Pit besides Kristin." Tommy knew instinctively that this was going to be a sad story, and he readied himself for the sad ending. "There was a fourth - there was a girl, and her name was Niki Nihachu." Wilbur's voice broke halfway through her name, and Tommy got the feeling she meant a lot to him. "She - she was my best friend. And about seven months ago, she was taken - and just like Kristin, her bond between the coven splintered."

Tommy didn't deign to mention that Kristin had died five years later, and that perhaps Niki was alive. But he doubted she was, because nobody could explain why Kristin had survived long after her coven bond had broken. Then again, maybe it was the distance? Only Phil and Kristin had had the part-time bond - Wilbur and Techno had yet to be introduced to the story. So maybe the distance had done it; or perhaps the relationship they'd had, as they had been married at a young age. Specifically, when they were eighteen. 

"And, well, we want revenge," Wilbur said meaningfully. "She was sweet and kind - even more so than Tubbo - "

"Tubbo farms  awws ," Tommy muttered.

Wilbur grinned. "Yeah, but he has a crazy side to him. Niki has -  had  - a terrifying side as well. There's a reason we were all afraid of her when she got angry." His voice turned slightly wistful. "She was amazing. She was my best friend. Sure, she was a part of another coven, but she helped me heal when I was younger and just like Tubbo, she lived down the street. You don't know where Scott's coven lives, but it's like a five-minute walk. She played the guitar and had a lovely singing voice and sometimes we would sit on this roof, right where you are, and sing composed songs until our throats were hoarse." Tommy was quiet as he watched a single tear roll down Wilbur's face. He felt like he was intruding on a personal moment, but he also knew that Wilbur wanted him to hear this. "She didn't seem like much of a fighter-type, but she was nasty when she wanted to use one - she was no you or Dream or Techno, of course, but she was good. They - they were on a mission one day, trying to find more information for the University - and they were captured. Niki helped Fundy and Scott and Eret escaped, but didn't escape herself. We looked for her immediately, but when the coven bond snapped a week later... it was done." Wilbur put his head in his hands, and Tommy scooted closer, resting his head on Wilbur's shoulder. He heard his - Wilbur's breath hitch, and then there was an arm wrapping around his shoulder, dragging him closer.

He didn't know when he'd gotten so close to the brown-haired boy. It wasn't the same as Tubbo, not exactly - Tubbo was a familiar presence, a familiar mind; a sort of  bond  existed between them, that when he concentrated, he could feel - and Wilbur was something else; like waking up in the morning and feeling the familiar blankets - a new feeling, but warm and familial all the same.

"I'm glad I met you, Tommy," Wilbur whispered. "Even if we get on each other's nerves. I hated seeing you sick. I hated knowing that I was the cause of your pain. You're a stupid little gremlin child, but you're part of our coven now."

His eyes felt lightheaded, and slowly his vision was fading in the warm wind of the soft breeze, and Wilbur's gentle hands clasping around his shoulders made everything feel better.

The only thing to make the feeling more perfect would be if Tubbo was on his other side, rambling about bees or whatever else he was obsessed with in the current moment. He could almost picture them all there - Techno, Phil, him, Wilbur, Tubbo - sitting at the edge, talking and laughing.

Perhaps when this was all over, they would do that. Perhaps if -  when  - they took out the Pit and freed the children and burned it the ground he would accept them all as a family together.

Later - he didn't know how much later - he felt himself being lifted up, and he heard Wilbur mutter some choice curse words about his weight - lovingly - and then he felt himself being placed on his bed.

He was too sleepy to move; too sleepy to do anything but hear as Wilbur whispered words too quiet for his tired brain to hear, and then a fond hand run through his hair before the covers were tugged over him, and he snuggled into the cool warmth, hearing the door softly shut, a soft smile spreading across his face as he faded into his dreams.

They were far less pleasant than the waking world.

"There are people up there," the girl named Amber whispered. "People that are free and get to walk without having to fight and die."

Tommy snorted. He was only nine, but he was old enough to know the difference between fantasy and the waking world. "Oh, please, Amber," he said to the entire room of listening children, some of whom were nursing wounds and trying not to cry. "Don't tell fairytales."

"I'm  not ," Amber insisted. "We weren't born down here. Dory and I - " her voice caught, and she continued in a slightly broken voice. "Dory and I come from above."

"That doesn't make sense," Tubbo said. "What do you mean, above. Above what?"

"Above all this rock and stone and slavery," Amber said. "There is a world of grass and trees. Green life and blue skies, just like the books in your library." She pointed over at the measly five fantasy books they had. "There are people that walk free and laugh and have fun."

"That's not a thing," Tommy said automatically. 

"You shouldn't say those things," Ash said, sweeping her black and red hair out of her eyes. "The higher-ups are listening."

"I don't care," Amber said nastily. "They took my Dory from me." A tear dripped down her face. "They're not going to kill all of you." 

The door crashed open, and seven guards filtered through. Kids and teens of all ages jumped aside, scrambling - anything to not draw attention, anything to not get away. They filed towards Amber, who sat in her chair and stared up at them defiantly.

"THERE IS ANOTHER WORLD OUT THERE!" she screamed as she was dragged away to the same fate of her beloved. "A FREE ONE! FIGHT FOR IT! FIND IT! THIS IS NOT THE LIFE YOU DESERVE!"

The door slammed shut in finality, and Tommy felt a coolness sweep through them as he listened to the screams of the girl until she faded forever.

Chapter Text

"Dammit," he said, as he was kicked to the floor again by Techno. "How the fuck are you so good?"

"I'm just that good, nerd," Techno said, reaching down and hauling him up by the scruff of his shirt. Tommy grumbled something under his breath and kicked at the dirt. "Look, Tommy, you're good at what you do, but not against an experienced fighter."

"I  am  an experienced fighter!" he burst out.

"Maybe so," Techno said calmly, and Tommy shut up, feeling ashamed. "But, Tommy, I can say this - you didn't fight  warriors . You fought with adrenaline and desperation - and you fought other children." His face distorted into one of disgust. 

"I fought and killed other Elementalists when I was twelve," he stated coolly, feeling his hands start to shake - not in anger, but in memory. "I did it because I had to, and I am not proud of it, Technoblade, but they  were  fully-fledged Elementalists, and I did it to save Tubbo."

Techno paused. "Do you know which ones?"

Of course he does.

He never forgot them. He remembered each of them - there were only eleven in total, but he remembered them. He remembered the ones he'd had to hurt to survive; the ones he'd had to push away to keep  Tubbo  alive.

"There were two Elementalists," he started, and he felt Techno step closer - not in interest, in comfort. "One of them - one of them was named Ren, and he - he liked dogs and acting and he had a coven that missed him, and  oh ,  I shouldn't have killed him, Techno, but I  had  to, they were going to kill Tubbo." He collapsed into Techno's arms, and started to cry, tears pouring down his face. "A-and the other one, her name was Astelic, and she was only  sixteen , but I had to beat her in solving the puzzle - maybe I shouldn't have - but I wanted to  live , and I - maybe I shouldn't have."

"Shh," Techno said, holding him closer in the small forest clearing they stood in, all attempts at sparring gone. "It's okay, Tommy. I understand. They'll understand. Would you have hated them if they had killed you?"

He shook his head numbly. "We didn't hold grudges down there. It was the kids versus the Pit Owners. They kept the ones that were born there separate from the ones that were captured until they were older, just so that the born ones didn't get any ideas, though. So they thought the sky was just a fantasy that didn't exist - and - and green was only a legend." 

Techno's grip tightened on him as Tommy cried into his white shirt. "Their covens will forgive you."

"Was - was he right?" Tommy gasped out, Arbaaz's face flashing before his eyes. "Am - am I a murderer?"

"No," Techno snapped quickly. A sigh. "No," Techno said, softer this time. "No, Tommy. You did what you had to do. I'm surprised you can still laugh and joke and have fun after what happened." Another pause. "I...actually know the two covens that you were talking about."

Tommy froze. "R-really?"

"Yes," Techno said. "I wasn't part of Phil's coven when they were captured and killed, but we at the University heard about Ren and Astelic."

"I killed them," Tommy said numbly. "Astelic - she - she could have beat me, but she  threw  - she did it on purpose - " he broke off.

"That was her choice," Techno said quietly, pushing Tommy back to stare into his eyes. "She made hers, Tommy. And hers was for you to survive." He paused, contemplating something. "I'll tell you, Tommy, that both covens they talked about got their fourth back."

"Really?" Tommy said.

"Yes," Techno said, with a small, sad smile. "Do you want to talk to them? You don't have to, not now, but I think they deserve to know eventually."

"Yes," Tommy decided.

"When?"

"Now," he said with finality. 

It took all his strength to raise his and knock on the door of the home of Ren's coven. Not because he was tired - no, not that kind of strength - but mentally, he wasn't ready. 

A tall man - taller than Wilbur - with black hair and a mustache opened the door. He peered down at Tommy curiously, and then his gaze went to Techno. "Oh - hey, Techno."

"Hi, Mumbo," Techno said easily. "It's been a few years, hasn't it?"

Mumbo nodded. "Not to be rude or anything - but this doesn't look like anything to do with University business, so what are you doing here?"

"This is Tommy," Techno said, dodging the question. "He's the newest member of our coven."

Mumbo's eyes jolted in surprise. "Oh - oh! You got your fourth back! Wait, that sounds rude. Um, sorry. Anyway, nice to meet you, Tommy." He held out his hand, and Tommy shook it. Mumbo's hand had calluses - not sword calluses;  different  ones - and was firm. "But that still doesn't explain why you're here."

Tommy looked up at Techno, who nodded at him. He swallowed and turned back to Mumbo, who looked confused. "It's - it's about Ren, actually," he said in a small voice.

Mumbo's face morphed into one of uncertainty and sadness. "W-what?"

"I - um," Tommy broke off before he started crying again. "I know what happened to him."

Mumbo's knuckles turned white from where was holding the door. "You do?"

"Yeah," Tommy whispered. "I wanted to speak to your coven about it."

"Okay," Mumbo said, finally stepping aside, and showing them into a house that was far different from Tommy's house. He walked in, kicking off his shoes, Techno following close behind.

"Iskall! Grian! Scar!" Mumbo called loudly, and Tommy flinched at the loud noise, already on nerves based on what was going on. Techno put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly as Mumbo led them to a dining room that had a circular table instead of Tommy's round, and had crude drawings and metal pieces on it. Mumbo swept them into a box and put them on the kitchen counter, muttering things under his breath.

Someone ran down the stairs two steps at a time - and Tommy turned, expecting to find another teenager like himself; but instead it was an older man - perhaps around Sapnap's age - standing there with dirty blonde hair and in a red sweater. He was just as tall as Tubbo - which meant short. "Hi!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Grian!"

"Hi," Tommy said dubiously.

"Iskall," a man with a blue stone for an eye said as he came around the corner, dusting off his hands on his green sweatshirt. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Tommy," he said after a moment. "I'm sure you know Techno." The pink-haired man snorted.

"That we do," the last member of the coven said as he walked down the stairs far calmer than the upbeat one named Grian had. "I'm Scar. Nice to meet you."

"Mumbo, I was working on the t-flop," Iskall sighed, rubbing his face. "Why are you two here?"

"Um..." Mumbo said, fumbling for words.

"Ren," Techno cut in.

Immediately, three other heads swiveled towards him. "What?" Iskall choked out, looking pained.

"He - " Mumbo gestured at Tommy flippantly. "He said he knew what happened to him."

"You  do ?" Scar said, his hands clenching on the table. Grian nudged him, and Scar relaxed - slightly.

"Yeah," Tommy whispered. "I was with him when he - um, when he passed." Iskall closed his eyes, sadness running across his face, and Mumbo nodded grimly. Scar glanced at Grian, an unknown look running between the two.

"And - and how did he die, if I may ask?" Scar asked politely.

Tommy took another deep breath. "I. Um. I killed him."

The four members of the other coven were on their feet in an instant, regret, horror, shock - anger,  hatred  - all those nasty emotions flowed towards Tommy and he  froze .

"LET HIM EXPLAIN!" Techno roared, drawing his sword before the others could reach theirs, and everyone halted in their movements.

"You killed him," Iskall said frostily.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm sorry. Yeah, I did."

"Wait, wait," Grian interrupted, as Iskall's single eye narrowed. "Tommy, was it?" he nodded. "Tommy, why did you kill Ren?"

"He's asking the real questions," Techno snorted. 

He sank lower in his seat. "Well, um, I'm sure you heard of the Pit. I was - well, I was born in there, and you're forced to fight to the death - "

" You're  Phil's son!" Mumbo said, and Tommy glanced up, surprised.

"What?" Scar asked.

"Philza," Mumbo said. "Were you not paying attention at the meeting the other day? That's why Phil didn't come, because he was mad at the University for sending a Retention to - well, to  examine  his sons."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I am. Dream's new coven member - Tubbo, he's my brother." He coughed. "Anyway, the Pit. You're forced to fight to the death. The ones that were born there start training when they're five. It doesn't usually end in death - maybe one in every hundred fights; because the Pit Owners call for it."

"So you killed him," Iskall said harshly.

"Woah, dude," Scar said nervously. "Let him talk."

"I did kill him," Tommy clarified. "He was an Elementalist. They wanted to get rid of him. It wasn't  that time of year  that they killed Elementalists - he had been a fluke. A flaw. They threw him into the arena with me and told us to kill each other." He glanced nervously at Techno, his fingers starting their nervous tapping they always did. 

Four.

Two.

Three.

Five.

One.

"They took my brother. Tubbo. Said if I didn't kill this unknown person that they would shoot Tubbo."

Four.

Two.

Three.

"Ren asked me what my name was. I told him. I didn't want to kill him. He seemed like a nice guy. He asked me how long I had been there. I was twelve, then. Sixteen now. Nearly four and a half years ago."

Five.

One.

"I said I'd been there for twelve years. The crowd was angry we weren't fighting. I panicked and attacked him. He was an Elementalist - he was trained more than I, and dodged. He told me that it would be fine. I said that I had to kill him or my brother would die."

Four. 

Two.

"He said that people were waiting for him to come back. He said that he was old - old enough to have seen enough. He said that it was okay to kill him to save my brother. His exact words were, "Hey, man, the older you get, the more you realize that it isn't about the material things - or pride, or ego. It's about our hearts and who they beat for." His name was Ren. He loved dogs. He was twenty-four."

Three.

Five.

"I'm sorry that I killed him. That I took him from you. I regret it now."

One.

"I'm so sorry."

"Her name was Astelic," he told False. "And she was sixteen and bubbly and happy and kind. And I killed her."

Cleo stared down at him - and it reminded him much like Kristin had, because she had  those  eyes, the ones that mothers did when they looked at children. False was a lot like Techno - more anger, more  raw , but the sweet one, Stress, held her back with a comforting hand while the newest coven member, Hanna, looked on.

"She was an Elementalist. We were thrown into an arena - not the fighting one - and given an identical puzzle. Whichever one solved it first lived. The other one died."

Stress's hand flew up over her mouth. "How horrible," she said in a shocked tone.

"Three weeks ago I had killed an Elementalist." He lowered his head in shame. "To save my brother. I didn't know if I could kill another one. So I didn't solve it. Not really, at least. Astelic beat me. She looked over at me, and saw me sitting on my desk with the tiny hourglass counting down my seconds to live. We didn't have an audience - not one that cared if we were talking at least. She asked me about my family. I told her I only had my brother. She told me about the sky. She told me about animals, about freedom, about three of you that were in her coven. She told me that I had to fight for freedom. She walked over and submitted her answer for me. It was correct."

His fingers tapped mercilessly against the painted table.

"The guards took her away. I never saw her again. Heard her, though. Until the very end."

Chapter Text

They forgave him. Iskall and False took the longest, but they did. They thanked him before he left them, and he stepped out of their houses with a little bit of weight lifted off his shoulders.

"I'm proud of you, kid," Techno said, and Tommy wiped away the tears he had shed for the lost and turned and beamed at the older man - before scowling.

"I'm not a  kid , idiot."

"You are to me,  nerd ."

"Fuck you, bitch."

They argued all the way home. When they got there, Tubbo was waiting for him - his coven had come over for dinner - and Tommy and Tubbo rushed off immediately to screw around in Tommy's room and the roof. Phil popped in about thirty minutes later; apparently, Techno had told him what had happened, and he said that Tommy was brave.

Tommy told him he was being clingy, and Phil laughed and told them dinner was ready. Tommy slid down the banister, and then Wilbur told him not to do that because he could crack his skull open - Tommy flipped him off, and then proceeded to run around the yard in a circle as Wilbur chased him with his grabby hands. 

"Wilbur! Tommy! Stop acting like children and sit down!" Phil called over from the set-up table they'd dragged outside.

"He started it!" they both said at the same time, pointing at each other. 

"Doesn't matter who started it, I'm ending it," Phil said. "Sit. Down."

They sat down, shoving each other every step of the way. Tommy collapsed in a seat between Tubbo and Phil's empty one, and Wilbur between Dream and Techno. Phil brought over a plate of barbecue ribs - and when Wilbur reached for one, he smacked the tall boy's hand with his wooden spatula.

"Ouch!" Wilbur said, rubbing the sore spot on his hand. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Ha, loser," Tommy said, sticking out his tongue, glad that he had kept his hands to himself instead of reaching for the food.

Phil clucked his tongue, sitting down. "People outside the family get to pick first, Wil. That's always been our rule."

"You should have smacked Tommy," Wilbur muttered.

"Tommy didn't try to grab for the food," Phil said. "And even if he had, I wouldn't have smacked him with the wooden food. He hasn't been here very long, and he doesn't know the home rules like you."

"Ha, get lectured, nerd," Techno said.

Dream pulled the plate over to him while Tommy's coven was arguing, busying himself with picking a piece. Sapnap and George followed soon after, also picking up miniature bowls of barbeque sauce to pour over the ribs. "You guys are a bunch of idiots."

Phil's head whipped around to look at the other coven leader. "Didn't you have your friends chase you through the streets with swords trying to kill you before you captured a certain set of items?"

"Yeah, but I don't die," Dream said, not blinking an eye. "So, you know."

"That's  my  line," Techno deadpanned. 

"Tubbo, aren't you going to pick a piece?" Phil said patiently, while Techno delved into one of their endless bickerings, Techno the voice of reason, and Dream pure chaos. 

Tubbo blinked. "I thought you said people outside the family got to pick first..." he said, trailing off.

Phil's jaw dropped, and everyone's head turned to look at Tubbo, who was blushing under the intent stares. Tommy ignored everyone and helped himself to the piece Wilbur had been eyeing up - not because he wanted it, because there was another piece that looked better - but simply so Wilbur couldn't have it.

"Why, you little  fuckhead  - "

"Wilbur, please," Phil said warily. "I appreciate the sentiment, Tubbo - really, I - " he cut himself off, glancing away. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tommy saw Dream smile softly.

"Tubbo is just farming awws," Tommy snorted. "Ignore him."

Tubbo elbowed him, a small smile on his face, and everyone let the smaller boy happily help himself to the plate before Wilbur snatched up a piece after him, glaring at Tommy the entire time. Techno reached across Wilbur's plate and grabbed the dish, dragging it closer to himself and Phil.

"So, Tommy," Phil continued, after a bit of silence - in which only a small bit of barbeque sauce was  accidentally  flung in Tommy's direction from Wilbur, and in return, the taller man's shins were  accidentally  bruised. "We haven't had this tradition for a bit, but now that the shit is - well,  mostly  out of the fan - we usually have a game night with another coven. Usually, it's Dream's, but sometimes it's Skeppy's coven - "

"Nerd always cheats," Techno muttered, and Tommy thought back to meeting the shorter Elementalist, and had to agree that it seemed like a very  Skeppy  thing to do. 

" - Scott's coven is sort of feral looking for the Pit, and since Tubbo is in Dream's coven, I thought you guys might enjoy the tradition," Phil finished, riding right over Techno's words. "Have you ever played board games?"

Tommy choked on the ribs, and Tubbo reached over and pounded him across the back before anyone had time to move. Coughing, Tommy rubbed the remaining sauce off his face with his sleeve, ignoring Phil's glared. "B-board games?"

"Yeah," Phil said carefully. "Board games."

"OOH! Like Monopoly!" Tubbo said cheerfully.

Tommy sagged a bit in relief, and he saw Techno eyeing him carefully. "O-oh. Oh, those board games. Um...we had a bit in the break room. I've played Uno before." He doesn't mention that there were other board games they played. 

"That's a card game," George said.

"Same thing," he snorted. 

"We are  not  playing Monopoly," Dream said darkly, jabbing his fork in Wilbur's direction. "He  always  wins."

"Maybe you should stop landing on L'manburg, you poor fuck," Wilbur retorted.

"Okay, we won't play Monopoly," Phil said, before further argument could break out. 

"Scrabble," Sapnap said, leaning back in his chair.

"Ooh, that's fun," George said.

Wilbur titled his head, thinking. "Fine," he conceded. "But I call Phil."

Phil rubbed his forehead. "Whatever."

"I CALL SAPNAP!" George screamed.

"Why do I have to be with the pig?" Dream muttered, seemingly forgetting about Tommy and Tubbo - which was fine with Tommy, he would have called Tubbo anyway.

"Look, Dream, we gotta put our differences aside to beat the living daylights outta these nerds," Techno said, loud enough for all of them to hear - but pretending he was whispering. "They made a mistake putting us on the same team."

"No way," Sapnap announced. "We're gonna win."

"Fine," Dream said. "Winners can make two of the losers do whatever they want."

"Fine," Sapnap said. "But it was a mistake to let me and George team."

Tommy leaned across the table, coughing for attention. "Did you say  whatever you want ?"

Dream spared a glance at him. "Yes."

He fought to keep the grin off his face as he glanced at Tubbo.

Maybe the skills learned in the Pit weren't all that useless.

Scrabble was not a game that he had worked before - at least, not by that name. It was a game full of words and letters, and he'd played it before under another name, another time, another year. He knew that while people may  think  the smaller words added up, the larger ones counted in the long one.

He'd played it before, but there had been bloodshed and death. 

He liked this version a lot better.

Techno & Dream: 207

Wilbur & Phil: 176

George & Sapnap: 159

Tommy & Tubbo: 145

"Have you guys even said a single word to each other?" Phil asked them, as Techno and Dream argued about which word would be better in the long one - though, between both the letters that Tommy knew they had from their repetitive screaming, he could find a far better spot that would gather them seventeen points.

Tommy watched as Tubbo nonchalantly switched up the tiles on the board. He nudged his brother and tapped on the ground meaningfully.

A-N-T.

O-H , Tubbo tapped back. He arranged the tiles like they were before, squinted at the board - just as Techno won the fight and placed down  L-I-T-H-E . 

"That's, um," Philza said, squinting at the board.

"Eight points," Techno said. "That puts us at two-hundred and fifteen." He shook the bag and a grin spread across his face as he drew the last tile. "Well, oh - well. You guys are going to  lose ."

"Nope," Tommy said. "We're going to win."

"You guys  definitely  can't win, you're in dead last," Wilbur said. 

Tommy looked over and saw Techno place the final tile with his rest. "You sure about that?"

"I mean - yeah - " Dream started. 

"Tubbo, you can have the honor," Tommy said, forcing his voice to make it seem posher.

"Why of course," Tubbo said, following along as he placed the tiles down one by one - all seven of them - around the word ant, which Sapnap had placed down right above the Triple Word Score not three turns before. "Zanthoxyls."

Silence.

"If you're wondering, that's a hundred and forty-six points," Tommy said.

" WHAT? " Wilbur screeched, his head shooting out as he counted out the numbers. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

"WHAT?" George yelled, Sapnap echoing him.

"We make such a great team," Tommy sighed, high-fiving Tubbo. "It was really a mistake to put us on the same team, by the way. Especially in a competition."

"You have experience?" Phil said carefully, as he jotted down their score, bringing them to a grand total of two hundred and ninety-one. And in first place.

"Yeah," Tommy said. "I've - we've played Scrabble before. Under a different name."

"What the fuck?" Dream muttered. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well, then I'd lose the advantage," Tommy pointed out. "Plus, you inherently made the very stupid decision to put both me and Tubbo on the same team on a game."

"You guys said like a total of five words to each other," Sapnap said, seemingly in denial.

"We don't  need  to talk to communicate," Tubbo said, rolling his eyes.

They ended up winning by a landslide.

"This isn't fucking fair," Dream bemoaned, as Tommy cackled and celebrated. 

"Hey, to  be  fair, you're the one that  put  us on the same team," Tubbo pointed out, as kind as ever - whereas Tommy just pointed at an annoyed-looking Wilbur and laughed.

"If I had known that you would absolutely destroy us at Scrabble, I would have chosen to be with Tommy and not Phil," Wilbur groaned.

"No, bitch, I don't want to fucking be with you," Tommy said. "Tubbo's the best."

"And  I'm  the clingy one."

"You  are !"

"Yeah, okay, whatever."

"God, I don't want to listen to  this fucking child ," Wilbur said.

"You're just going to make me pick you as one of the losers," Tommy said, crossing his arms. Wilbur stiffened, then, turning white. "Actually, I think I want to pick you. Tubbo, who are you going to pick?"

"Eh, I don't really care," the boy said with a small shrug. Everyone else's shoulders slumped in relief. "You can pick the other one too."

"Dream," Tommy said smugly. "You two can do a joint heist."

"I swear to god, we better not get in trouble with the law," Philza said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't worry, man," Tommy said. "The people I'm having them steal from are old friends of mine! You've actually met them before, Phil. Remember those people obsessed with bread? I want Wilbur and Dream to break into their warehouse and steal a single slice of bread. Just one."

"One?" Dream asked skeptically.

"Yep," Tommy said, popping the p. "Just one. One, single slice of bread between the two of you."

"Is there any traps? Any bombs I should be worried about?" Wilbur said nervously.

Tommy felt the grin spread across his face. "Well, there's this one woman named Kash..."

Chapter Text

"Never again."

Tommy opened the door six hours later to two mud-covered and exhausted looking figures. "What are you doing here? It's nearly two in the morning."

Wilbur sneered at him, and Tommy brought up his hand just in time to catch the piece of bread that came flying at his face. "Just fucking take it. Fucking  take it . I'm never - never eating bread again." He shuddered and shouldered past Tommy, only stopping to tear off his muddy boots and  throw  them into the shoe pile. He stomped upstairs to his room without another word, and Tommy got the feeling that if Phil and Techno and Sapnap and George weren't asleep - Tubbo was still awake in Tommy's room - Wilbur would most definitely have slammed the door.

"Sorry, George and Sippy Cup took up the guest bedroom," he said apologetically - though no trace of remorse whatsoever remained in his voice. "But there's a couch in that room - it looks pretty comfortable - or you could take the couch in the living room." Both were certainly long enough.

Dream snorted. "Don't let Sapnap hear you say that. Also, no  way  am I sharing a room with that idiot. We already have to put him in the basement. He snores. I'll sleep in the living room." He brushed past Tommy, taking off his shoes and putting them together neatly, and heading to the dimly-lit kitchen. 

"So," Tommy said, having a good idea of what happened - but wanting to know all the same. "What happened?"

"Well," Dream said, as he opened one of the cabinets and took out a bag of some sort of chips. "There was a lot of bread. How does that stuff not mold?"

"They package it very good," Tommy said seriously, leaning against the counter as Dream crunched on his chips noisily. "And they hand it out to the street kids, specifically the younger ones, if they don't eat it."

Dream paused. "Really?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah. After they pester you to join their cult."

"Have you or Tubbo - "

"No," he said. "We never trusted anyone when we were first on the streets. And by the time that we did trust people, we already had a stable income."

"You mean you knew how to steal."

"Exactly."

"...you don't seem very apologetic."

"I'm not," Tommy said with a small shrug. "Look, I can analyze people pretty well. Tubbo can as well. We stole from the idiots who deserved it."

"Didn't you try to steal from Wilbur the first time you met him?"

"I didn't  try ," Tommy snorted. "I did. Then I bumped into Techno, who proceeded to kidnap me. Wilbur took his wallet out, and when I left the house, I stole it again."

"And Tubbo? He didn't get Sapnap's wallet."

"Yeah, because you kidnapped him."

Dream held up his hands in defense. "From my point of view, he tried to steal from us,  failed , and then we found out that he was our missing coven member and trying to get away from us."

"Your point of view sucks."

Dream snorted. "Okay, Tommy. Whatever you say." He rubbed his face and scrunched the now-empty chip bag into a ball, tossing it into the trash without glancing at it. Tommy watched it arc perfectly into the bin, surprise filtering through him. "Anyway, we got there like five hours ago, and Wilbur suggested sneaking in through the roof, so we did. There was a broken window. What I  didn't  expect was for all the crates of bread to be padlocked and alarmed. Who the fuck puts tripwires on crates of bread?"

"Kash," Tommy said.

"The one with the shoulder-length black hair?"

"Yep, that's the leader of the cult," Tommy said.

"Anyway, she started screaming directions, and suddenly there were kids in these bright teal robes pouring from everywhere, and Wilbur and I had to run, but they started  chasing us , and they knew the streets better than we did, so we were running and hiding for  hours ."

Tommy laughed. "Maybe you should have been quieter."

"I wish I could have just killed them," Dream muttered. "Would have been simpler."

"Dream, they're just teenagers. Kash has her main little fleet, and then there are the ones in the teal that are her followers. They're usually street kids like us. She's a good person. She just made a cult following bread."

"Still would have been easier than running. I had to pick Wilbur up and carry him for about thirty minutes because he was going to collapse." Dream pointed a finger at Tommy accusingly. "What if they had got us?"

"Well, either you would have scared them, or I would have traded for your freedom with bread," Tommy said with a small shrug, as he got up and started going upstairs. "Sleep tight, Dream. Don't let the bread bugs bite."

"I fucking hate you, Tommy."

He laughed softly as he walked into his room, blowing out the candle that Tubbo had been using to read, and picking up his brother, and dumping him on his side of the bed. Tommy crawled underneath the cold covers, tucking the smaller boy in, a small smile flashing across his face as he did so.

"Good night, idiot."

Tubbo mumbled some swear words in his sleep and curled closer into Tommy's side.

Tommy woke up early in the morning to a knock on the door. He stumbled out of bed and down the stairs, noting that nobody else was awake. By the clock on the wall, it was around seven in the morning - he'd gotten around five hours.

He opened the door and saw Skeppy standing there. "Uh...do you want me to wake up Phil?"

Skeppy's expression was very, very serious. "No, wait, before you do - this is for you." He drew a letter out of his pocket.

Tommy took it carefully, wondering if someone would lace it with some type of poison that would activate if he opened it - and then realized that he was being paranoid and tore it open, noting with distaste the sigil of the University on it. Skeppy hovered in the doorway, his eyes flicking to the people hurrying along the streets buying their normal morning market goods.

" Dear Thomas Watson and Tubbo Watson ," he read, his heart dropping with every word. Watson was Phil's last name. He had never officially taken it on - but it seemed that apparently the Unversity, or whoever had done their research well enough to write this stupid thing, had just gone with his bio father's last name. " I am sorry that your family and we at the University had a very poor first impression  - yeah, I fucking wonder why." He glanced up at Skeppy.

"I'm on your side," the shorter man said. "Don't kill the messenger. I offered to take it because I needed to talk to Phil anyway. About your adventure group."

Tommy frowned in surprise, and went back to reading. " -  had a very first poor impression, and we hope to fix that. However, before we can hope to make amends, there are a few issues that we must discuss. Firstly, on the account of your coven, Thomas Watson. As you are technically not an Elementalist, and a Siphon - "  he stopped, horror and shock flooding through his system, and even Skeppy looked appalled by the turn of events. "  - and based on your past, we, therefore, question your true intentions by being part of one of the major covens  - what the  fuck ?" He stumbled back, trying to lean on something so he didn't fall, and ended up stumbling into the table and upending a vase full of fake flowers.

It shattered against the ground, the shards of glass embedding itself into his bare feet. He was numb to it, numb as he read the rest of the letter. Skeppy cursed and stepped forward, but eyed the glass and hesitated.

As you are technically not an Elementalist, and a Siphon, and based on your past, we, therefore, question your true intentions by being part of one of the major covens. Therefore, today at midday, we hereby summon you to the Hall of Hearing for a trial. We are very sorry and apologetic to do so, but in all of history, there has never been a good Siphon, and we are truly sorry to do so, but we must protect the dwindling number of Elementalists.

Best regards,

The University

His hands shook. 

"Tommy!"

Someone grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up, and his feet were suddenly full of pain, and someone was cursing, but he couldn't  see , not properly, anyway, because all he could feel was the hands touching his head, going through his memories - seeing  everything  for themselves.

Something nudged his mind - a golden thread leading elsewhere tugged, and he fell back to earth with a large gasp, just in time to see Techno staring at him and the house suddenly full of clamoring yells.

" - think I wanted to bring this, Wilbur?" Skeppy yelled. "I happened to be there and took it from the messenger. Tommy would have freaked out about anyone else. I'm not in charge there!"

He didn't know why Techno was pressing down on his shoulders, and hands were holding his knees, but suddenly someone tugged something out of his foot and he  screamed , his foot jolting up - only to be held down by the set of arms on his knees.

"Tommy, it's just me," he heard Wilbur say, and that stupid golden string in his head tugged again. He delved into his mind, wrapping himself around that golden string, and realized that there were three more of them - they weren't the same, and they were twined into one large one farther into his head, but they were  there .

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" he screamed. "GET OUT!"

"Tommy, nobody is in your head," an outside voice he didn't care to name said. "You're safe. It's okay."

No, no, they were  wrong , he could  feel someone in there , rifling through his memories, there were  hands on his forehead , and he was in that stupid room in the University and nobody was coming to rescue him. Tears flooded down his cheeks at the thought. 

"Tommy, you're home," another voice said, and one of the three twined strings in his head flooded with love and affection and Tommy  paused  - lost, fumbling, searching for an answer. "You're safe."

Was he?

Yes .

He remembered a man with blonde hair and blue eyes barging into the room where he had held Tubbo, and he remembered a pink-haired one and a man in a yellow sweater - yes, they had saved him, rescued him. 

Someone was singing softly - a lullaby tune that he remembered from his childhood. It wasn't Wilbur's voice - it wasn't that refined.

But it reminded him of home.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Phil asked him, nearly four and a half hours later, as they stood in front of the doors of the University.

"Yes," he said, with more outward calm than he had inwardly. Tubbo's hand slipped into his, and he squeezed it quickly, feeling and basking in the brilliant warmth of the presence of his brother. 

"Okay," Phil said with finality. "Wil, you got this?"

"Yep," Wilbur said, snapping shut the book he had been studying. "I've memorized parts of the textbook. I've got this." He flashed a quick grin at the worried older man. "It'll be fine."

"Besides," Techno rumbled, patting his sword at his side. Dream smirked at the pink-haired man's side, adjusting his mask over his face. He wore it in public, though he'd taken it off in private, Tommy realized - how had he not noticed during dinner and Scrabble? "Worst comes to worst, I'll threaten them."

"Techno - "

"Relax," Dream said. "I'll make sure he won't hurt them." A pause. "Too much. Tubbo, you're going down there with him?"

"Yes." Tubbo's voice left no room for argument.

"Great. If anyone threatens to hurt either one of you I'll rip them from limb to limb." Dream didn't sound like he was joking either. 

"Come on, Dream, really?" Scott said from the doorway. Tommy looked up to see the coven leader smiling sadly. "Set a good example for the kids."

"This  is  his good example," George muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Of course it is," Scott said. "They're waiting for you. I'll be cheering you on in the audience. Skeppy's coven is there as well. So is Iskall and False's." A small bit of hesitation. "If it's worth anything, they're supporting you as well."

Tommy was left dumbfounded by that statement. False and Iskall were supporting  him ? After everything he had done? After everything that had happened?

Tubbo squeezed his hand again, and Tommy looked down at him, the boy offering him a small smile of encouragement. Tommy took a deep breath and watched as everyone besides Wilbur - who would be representing him because Tommy didn't really know how hearings worked - filed out into the hallway that led to the viewing area. Phil was last, hovering in the doorway and giving him a worried look before leaving, closing the door behind him.

"Ready?" Wilbur asked him.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he sighed, pushing open the door that Scott had vacated. He breathed easier when he saw that the room wasn't cryptic and dismal like he had thought; that there were no stone bricks and it was mostly made from dark wood panels and painted wood ceilings, a black iron chandelier hanging from the high arched ceilings, shedding light on the places where the sun didn't shine its light. There were three people sitting on podiums higher above, but the sunlight made Tommy feel like they weren't  really  sitting higher than him; not when he was standing in the sun and could feel its rays shining on his back. True to Scott's words, there were around twenty-something people sitting in the stands. He recognized most of them - saw False's coven sitting there. Hanna, the girl that had come after Astelic, threw him a small wave, and he smiled back. Iskall's coven was a bit more stoic, but Grian grinned at him, and there was a lightness in his chest that their forgiveness hadn't been in words only.

Phil was leaning on his knees, looking worried, and Techno and Dream sat in the front, the former lounging back with his legs propped up - but Tommy knew better than to say that he was relaxed. Tommy already had a small limp from the glass; though under his shoe his leg was bandaged and he had been given pain medication. Sapnap and George looked slightly nervous as well, the latter drumming his fingers against the wooden railing that separated him and the small jump to the ground floor. 

Tommy swallowed nervously as he glanced back up at the three people in black robes that were looking at him with unfathomable expressions. 

No. No, he didn't want to do this - not with  him  here, he didn't want to be here, but  nobody knew  -

He walked over with Wilbur and Tubbo and stood on the small dais in the center of the room.

The small murmur in the room faded to silence as the one in the center took a miniature hammer - Wilbur had called it a gavel - and banged it sharply on his desk. Tommy wondered how dented the desk was. 

"You are Thomas Watson?"

His throat felt thick as he glanced at Wilbur, who gave him a small nod. "Uh, yes."

"And I presume you are his brother?" 

"Yes, I'm Tubbo," the brown-haired boy said simply. 

"We did not call you to stand at this hearing," the judge on the left said.

"Moral support," Tubbo replied quickly, getting a few snickers from the watching audience. 

"You can do your  moral support  with your coven," the judge on the right said sternly.

"I would actually like to think of him as protection," Tommy said, his fingernails digging into the center of his palms. 

"Protection from what? You're perfectly safe here." Even from across the room, Tommy heard the noise of dissent Phil made and opened his mouth to talk.

Wilbur nudged him, and Tommy shut up. "If I may speak, your honor."

"And you are?"

"Wilbur Soot, and coven member," Wilbur said calmly, presenting himself far better than Tommy ever could - there wasn't even a trace of anger in his tone. "I'm representing my - I'm representing Tommy."

"Can't he represent himself?"

Wilbur's eye twitched, and Tommy got the sign he was annoyed. "Your honor, that would be unfair to him and to us. He doesn't know the rules around here."

"Maybe he should learn them," the judge on the left said, and Tommy heard the trace of disgust in his voice.

"With all due respect," Wilbur said,  finally  some emotion breaking through. "But Tommy hasn't been here very long, and therefore shouldn't be expected to know everything about how the University works."

"Or maybe he's not trying." Tommy was really starting to hate the judge on the right.

"He passed the finals exam, I think he and his brother are trying plenty hard." If Tommy hadn't known Wilbur, he would have thought that Wilbur was calm. But he  knew  Wilbur. And he knew that for all the calmness that Wilbur fronted, there was rage and anger hidden behind his cool face. 

"They - "

"Before you accuse them of cheating, please note that both of them had a Retention tear through their minds without their permission and confirm that they did not, in fact, cheat."

"Mr. Soot, I would prefer it if there were no interruptions in this room."

"Your honor, but I would have to say I disagree. If you were to open the book that sits in front of you, the book of Judicial Law here at the University, and flip to page four-hundred and two, paragraph seven, then you would be aware that in the circumstances that a judge were to speak false or untrue information that could possibly sway the minds of the other judges, then the defendant is allowed to intervene with the correct information."

"But you are not the defendant, Mr. Soot," the judge on the left said with a single raised eyebrow, leaning forward, his eyes sparkling said with interest.

"Read the footnotes," Wilbur said easily. "It also states that the defendant's representative may follow that rule as well."

There was a silence.

"You are correct," the center judge said, but he didn't sound very happy about it. Tommy had to fight the grin that threatened to overtake his face. "Yes, we have heard about your...issues with the Retention. Sadly, we never got to hear what actually happened because he turned up dead the next day. Rumors have it that Thomas killed him. Is this true?"

"No, your honor, this is false," Wilbur said. "Tommy and Tubbo spent the next three and a half days barricaded in the room in our house refusing to speak to us. There was no possible way that they got out and did that." He hesitated. "Plus, I don't think he would."

"Do you know who could have?"

Wilbur looked over his shoulder to Technoblade, who gave a small indecipherable nod. "Techno did."

The attention of the judges flew to the pink-haired man, who didn't portray any evidence of unease at the eyes staring at him. 

"Is this true, Mr. Blade?" the left judge asked Techno.

"Yes," Techno said instantly, not leaving any room for argument. 

"You are aware, Mr. Blade that you murdered - in cold blood, may I add - an esteemed member of the University?"

"In my defense, your honor, he deserved it." Tommy coughed to stop the laugh from bubbling in this throat, and he heard Tubbo snicker softly from his side.

The left judge opened his mouth angrily, but the middle one stopped him. "We'll discuss this at another date." Technos shrugged and sat back in his chair, Dream leaning over and whispering something in his ear. "Unfortunately, Mr. Soot, because of this...mishap...we were not able to recover any information regarding Thomas's past."

"May I speak freely?" Wilbur asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Well, then I say that's a good thing," Wilbur announced, anger showing through his tone. " Good . You question Tommy for his intentions when one of  your own  did something highly illegal and punishable by death or long-term imprisonment. Tommy hasn't done anything that would require calling him to court besides being who he is."

"He is a Siphon."

"Which says absolutely nothing."

"Siphons are notoriously evil."

"With  all due respect , it's not the magic type that makes a person, but the user who uses it." Wilbur's words are clipped and to the point, and Tommy is almost in awe at how put-together the man seems. "Based on all the Renditions I've seen, I could very well say that they were evil based on your logic."

"Mr. Soot, please do not disrespect any of the members of the University unless you wish to bear the consequences."

"I was just merely putting out a statement," Wilbur said, slightly defensively. "There hasn't been a Siphon seen on either side in a hundred years, your honor. You are basing your accusations off history, and not fact."

"We will be going back on topic now," the center judge said, and Tommy nearly cheered in silent victory. As it was, he just raised himself slightly on his heels. "Because the Rendition that, yes, may have gone out of line, died - there is sadly no evidence on Thomas - and Tubbo's - past, besides his own word, which sadly - "

"Your honor, but I must interrupt yet again," Wilbur said. "When my coven and Tubbo's coven came to rescue them - I must say that may, in fact, have been a fear factor, but people are only sent to the Retentions if the worst of the worst happened, and  cheating , especially merely accused cheating, is not one of them. If I didn't know better, I would say this was perhaps jealousy from another professor who wished to be in either one of their positions because they never studied at the University and yet were able to pass their finals with perfect scores."

"And do you know better, Mr. Soot?"

Wilbur paused for a second, thinking. "No, your honor, I am afraid that I do not."

Chapter Text

"Page two hundred and twelve, paragraph fourteen, section three," Wilbur said. "I am allowed to call a witness up to the stand."

" If  they remain biased," the judge corrected. "Which does not include the boy's father or one of your coven member."

"Fine," Wilbur conceded. "What about Dream?"

The judge seemed surprised as he glanced over at the stands and looked at the masked man, who was waving lazily by Techno's side. "I wasn't aware that he would be here today."

"Nevertheless," Wilbur said. "May I call him up as a witness?"

"His relation to Tubbo could interpose with the case at hand."

"Perhaps if this case was about Tubbo, but it is not."

The center judge inclined his head towards Wilbur. "Fine. Call up your witness then."

Wilbur turned around and beckoned to Dream, who handed his sword to Techno and then hopped gracefully over the railing, landing in a crouch and then walking over to stand to the side of the dais. Tommy muffled a laugh at Dream's antics, and by the sigh of the judges, clearly, they had seen actions like this before. 

"Mr. Taken, what information do you present?"

Dream glanced at Tommy, and he inherently knew what Dream was asking for - permission. He gave a small, cautious nod in response.

"Well, after my coven and Phil's coven rushed in to save our two coven members - "

"The information regarding the safety of your coven member is biased, and in my opinion, Mr. Taken, you overreacted."

Dream gritted his teeth, visible beneath his mask. "I may have acted a bit  out of hand , but I was also worried about the mental health of two specific sixteen-year-olds."

"If I am to understand correctly," Wilbur continued. "Then one is only supposed to have a Rendition go through their minds in the worst of worst scenarios. They're meant for finding information in enemies. And  even then , there are specific laws against going too far back."

"Right," Dream said. "And Tommy showed me what actually happened in his past when the Rendition in question told falsehoods about their past."

"He...showed you what actually happened?" the center judge asked carefully.

"Yes, he did a Seeing with everyone in the room. That included everyone in my coven and everyone in Phil's."

"I wasn't aware that Siphons could siphon the power of Renditions."

"Well, they can," Tommy spat bitterly. 

"This is a bit much," the judge on the right said warily. "With this much power, you could almost take out the entire University."

"I don't like using my power," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because it reminds me of being an Elementalist."

"You aren't an Elementalist."

He laughed. "Okay, then. You can think that - but also, I'm part of an  Elementalist coven , and I take up the place of a nature Elementalist, and I have the mark of one on my neck, so I don't know what the fu - what you're talking about, because you certainly seem to put Renditions - " That word had a nasty taste in his mouth. " - in with Elementalists."

"As far as I'm aware, a Rendition has never been part of an Elementalist coven," the center judge said.

"Well, I'm not a Rendition," he said. "I'm a Siphon. But I'm also an Elementalist. And if you think that I'm not one, then I will walk out of here right now, because this whole  trial thing  is under the framework of  Elementalist law , which - if I am not, in fact, one, then I do not have to follow."

Silence. Wilbur looked slightly worried at the words that had poured out of his mouth, but kept his peace. 

"That is...fair," the judge said after a moment. "Yes, fine, we will consider Siphons Elementalists for the time being until an official verdict is composed at a later date." He seemed a bit disturbed by that statement, but Tommy considered it a silent victory.

"I have a question for the defendant," the judge on the left said. "About your words earlier. You said, and I quote, it 'reminds you of being an Elementalist.' What are the connotations behind your words?"

"Well, because I don't want to be one," he said plainly. Wilbur groaned slightly under his breath.

"Being an Elementalist is a great honor - "

"Look, I'm allowed to interrupt if what you're speaking is wrong, right?" he said.

"Not exactly, but go on."

"Well, it's false. Honestly, it's not a great honor. The only thing I've experienced from being an Elementalist is your stupid test, the stupid Rendition, getting sick, meeting my dad - which isn't bad, but I'm still eh on whether that's a good thing or not - and now, being trialed for being me." Wilbur winced. "I don't think you made a very good first impression."

"So, what you're saying is that you don't like Elementalists, because of the few you've met that made a bad first impression?"

"With all due respect, your honor," Wilbur said, before Tommy could make the situation worse than it already was. "I could say the same about the Elementalists. It is the reason we are standing here, is it not? Because you made an assumption based on the few Siphons throughout history?"

"Yes, but those Siphons did a tremendous amount of damage to the Elementalists, and are part of the reason why we number so few."

"They had the same numbers we did," Wilbur said. "And we won that fight, a hundred years ago." Tommy doesn't know what Wilbur is talking about - something about a war, and he knew he'd read about it just a bit. "And that's the reason why the Siphons are so few. Because we took them out. We decimated them."

"We needed to destroy their bloodlines."

"But that's not how it works!" Wilbur said. "Many healers have already found this out - that just like Renditions, the power of a Siphon isn't passed through genes or bloodlines, but through  Elementalists . Somewhere in us, there is something that has the power to make our children be born a Siphon, just as there is the chance to make our child a Rendition."

"You speak blasphemy against the University," the judge on the left said. "You make it seem as if those born with the Elementalist power weren't chosen."

Wilbur snorted. "Oh,  please . Ninety-nine percent of the time, a child with Elementalist parents  is  an Elementalist - or a Rendition. It is very, very rare for two non-Elementalist parents to make an Elementalist child. Tommy's mother was an Elementalist, and so was his father. That gives him and Tubbo a large chance to be Elementalists - which they are. Tommy just got the worse portion of it and got to be a Siphon as well. It is nothing to do with destiny or being chosen."

"If it would please the representative to get back at the topic at hand," the center judge said, banging his gavel on the table in a bored tone. Wilbur shut his mouth, properly chastised. 

"What is the topic at hand?" Wilbur asked.

They ignored him. "Mr. Taken," the judge on the right said. "You said that Thomas gave you a Seeing?"

"That is correct, yes," Dream said carefully. 

"What exactly did you see?" His heart dropped, because he  didn't want them to know , and he knew one of them  knew  already and just wanted to see him suffer.

"This is not the place or time for saying the full story," Dream replied, and Tommy was suddenly filled with relief. "However, what I can tell you is that he has never used his power for evil. Or at all, really. In all of the memories I saw, it was Tubbo that used the magic." Tommy glanced at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He'd used Phil's air magic twice in his life - both times completely by accident, and both times he'd promised himself that he never would again.

"I wasn't born with the tattoo," he explained slowly. "It was given to me."

"By who?"

Tubbo.

"That has nothing to do with the situation at hand," he quoted, a bit harshly. "We're talking about my intentions as a Siphon. My  intention  is to never touch my power unless absolutely necessary. Which I have been doing."

"Are you scared of it?" the judge in the center asked, eyes full of interest.

He snorted. " Scared  of it? It's easy to control. I can feel people's magic flow and just...take from it." The judges stared at him, shocked. "But that feels wrong. Like I'm doing something I shouldn't. So I never want to."

"Is that satisfactory enough for you?" Wilbur asked.

The judges leaned closer enough, and Tommy's hand itched for the sword that wasn't at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Techno's hands tighten around the sword at his waist and Dream's that he was carrying.

"Yes, I suppose that is enough for today," the center judge said with a small sigh. "But we'll be watching."

"You do that," he said with a small snort, pivoting in place and walking towards the door. Tubbo hurried after him.

Two steps from the doorway, everything came crashing down and he stumbled, nearly falling on his face, and catching himself just in time. Tears fell freely from his eyes as he slipped out the door, falling to his knees in the hallway right outside, shuddering sobs breaking through.

Tubbo followed him to the ground, putting a hand on his shoulder to try to ground him, but his brother's hands shook with the effort of maintaining his calm. "Was that - "

"Yes," he gasped. "Yes, it was."

The judge on the left. His voice swam in Tommy's vision, his  face  blinking in and out - because Tommy  knew  that man,  knew him for what he truly was . Knew him for what he'd  done  to Tommy and Tubbo. The scars on his arms stung, specifically the ones that the nameless judge had given him.

Why was he here?

Why did the universe hate him so much? He let out a silent scream as he slid down the wall to collapse on the floor, tugging at the strands of his golden hair.

A slap rang out across the room, and Tommy opened his eyes weakly to see Tubbo standing there, furious. 

Oh. Had he slapped him?

He brought a hand up to his cheek and prodded at it. Yeah. It hurt.

"Get ahold of yourself, man!" Tubbo said. "We gotta tell them!"

"Nope," he muttered. "Nope, nope, nope."

"What do you have to tell us, exactly?"

Tommy glanced up to see Phil staring at them. "Nothing," he said.

"Tommy's lying," Tubbo explained. 

"Did you just  slap  Tommy?" Wilbur asked incredulously, as he walked through the doorway and peered down at the two boys. "Tommy, are you good?"

"Yep, fine," he muttered, scrambling to his feet and wiping away the tears angrily. "Fine, fine, fine."

"You don't sound fine, mate," Phil said worriedly.

"He's lying," Tubbo repeated.

"I'm  not ," he insisted, lying through his teeth,

"TOMMYINNIT!" Tubbo screamed, startling everyone in the hallway, and making everyone jump. Tommy flinched. "THE ONLY REASON I AM NOT TELLING THEM  EVERYTHING  RIGHT NOW IS BECAUSE I RESPECT YOUR FUCKING BOUNDARIES! BUT I'M NOT GOING TO RESPECT THEM FOR LONG IF YOU KEEP MAKING STUPID FUCKING DECISIONS! TELL THEM  NOW,  OR I WILL FOR YOU, AND IT WILL NOT BE PLEASANT!"

Tubbo's ringing shout faded into silence - a silence that was loud, so loud in Tommy's ears. Dream was gaping at the panting boy, and Phil looked dumbfounded. Wilbur actually looked slightly terrified, and the rest was just, well,  shocked . He swallowed nervously, glancing up at his impatient coven members.

"Tommy?" Techno prompted. 

"The judge on the left," he said numbly, and he wasn't even sure if he was speaking, because everything felt empty. "He - I know him.  We  know him."

"How?" Wilbur asked.

Tommy tugged at his collar, revealing the scars from a long-ago piece of metal that had used to rub against his neck. "Because he gave me these scars."

Chapter Text

"We can't  do  anything," Phil said.

"What? Why not?" Dream cried out angrily, banging his fist down on the table. Tommy saw Tubbo wince. He didn't like loud noises. Tommy wasn't as susceptible to them - rather, to objects or people that reminded him of his past. Such as that judge.

"Because all we have is Tommy and Tubbo's word for it, and no offense, but they aren't going to believe two kids - one of whom is a Siphon - over a member of the judicial court."

"Isn't there any way to prove it?" Techno asked warily. "Man, I thought that guy was cool. I've borrowed a few books on philosophy from him a couple of times. He's never getting  those  back."

"Doesn't he go on vacations like five times a year?" George wondered.

"Yeah," Phil said. "But he'll probably just say that he likes seeing the world or gathering information."

"You know," Wilbur said thoughtfully. "I always thought he was gay and hiding it and going to a secret mansion to hook up with his boyfriends."

"Wilbur!" Phil said, shocked. 

"Well, it seemed odd he didn't have a wife, so I assumed he was gay!" Wilbur said defensively. "Most older guys, if not married, will take on a  younger girl , and she'll stay with him because of the money."

"Maybe nobody wants to be with him," Sapnap suggested.

"Oh, that's a given," Wilbur responded. "He seems like a dry old man who wants nothing more than to - " he cut himself off and glanced at Tommy, who was sitting in the chair next to Tubbo, staring at the grains of wood that made up the table. "Ahem. Nevermind."

Dream glanced around the room. "So...what do we do, then?"

Phil sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Until we can get evidence... nothing. Nothing at all. We can't let him know that we know otherwise he'll bolt."

"Wouldn't want that," Techno grunted. "Then I couldn't murder him." Tommy didn't even crack a smile at a joke that would usually send him off into gales of laughter, opting to trace the small cracks in the wood in front of him. Beside him, Tubbo was just as silent, both of them trying not to be lost in the memories of a different time, a different place.

"Right," Phil said clearly unsettled. "Skeppy, what did you want to talk about earlier that was slightly interrupted by this morning's happenstance?"

The man in question, who had been standing in the back, silent for once, startled. "Oh. It was about Tommy as well - nothing bad, though," he assured the silent group. "It had to do with his scouting mission that he needs to do."

"What?" Tommy croaked, speaking for the first time in hours. 

"Oh, right," Phil cursed. "You don't know about that. You need to go on a solo mission outside the city with others who need to do the same mission - it's nothing bad, nothing like the mission we had earlier. It's University law."

"But I already went on a mission," he said. 

"Not a solo one," Phil said. 

"What about Tubbo?"

"You're not allowed to go with people you know," Skeppy voiced. "So there are others that are new to covens that you'll be going with."

Tommy's eyes widened minuscule. Go outside the city, into the forest, with people he didn't know? That was a recipe for disaster.

"Don't worry," Skeppy said. "I created the group for you. You should be going with Grian - you don't know him very well, and when I helped decide who you were going with, I didn't know you'd met up with him - and some other kid named Ranboo."

"Oh, isn't that Sparklez's newbie?" Techno said.

"Yeah, the fire Elementalist. He idolizes you," Skeppy said.

Tommy snorted. "Seriously?"

"I could take him in a fight," Wilbur muttered jokingly.

"He's six feet six inches, Wilbur, and he's sixteen years old. He's taller than you  and  younger than you."

"Do I really have to do this?" Tommy said worriedly.

"It'll be fun," Phil promised. "There's no real danger. It's just about working with people that you've never met before. It has nothing to do with being in a coven, and everything to do with being an Elementalist. We all did it at some point. They just set up a massive scavenger hunt with clues and riddles. You'll be good at this."

Tommy got the feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.

Grian was a nice guy. Short - short like Tubbo, with a red sweater and dirty blonde hair, but he liked pranking people and often told stories of how he'd pranked his coven mates, even on the first day that he'd met them. He was also full of energy, and didn't seem to care that Tommy was a Siphon - which was who the Elementalist that had  collected  Tommy from his coven home and come to take him to the gates to start his so-called solo-mission had introduced him as. Tommy had been happy when he'd seen the disgusted look on the Elementalist's face after Grian ignored the fact that he was an Elementalist and spouted out talking about mushrooms, of all things, and his war with his other coven member, Scar, about what kind of grass was best for the potting soil. Which was odd, because Grian was an air Elementalist like Phil, and not a nature Elementalist.

Ranboo was loud as well, but a lot like Tubbo, and faded into silence sometimes. True to Skeppy's word, he was taller than Wilbur, and Tommy had to crane his neck to look at him. He made a lot of stupid jokes and, like Techno, had been born with a birth defect that made half the hair on his head a pale white instead of a raven-black. He also wore glasses that had one red eyepiece and one red, though when Tommy asked he said that they were clear from the inside. 

He didn't question Ranboo's dressing choices.

They were well into the third hour of their scavenger hunt - Tommy had mostly sat back and let the others take a look at the clues. He didn't like seeing the words on the paper - despite the two things being different, he was reminded of the scraps of paper he'd been handed in the Pit and told to solve...or die. Solving puzzles was one thing.

Doing this was another.

He stepped in a few times in a few different places when Grian and Ranboo were stumped, and Ranboo gave him some odd looks - but didn't ask questions. Grian knew his origins, and Tommy was glad that the older kid didn't spill the beans when he didn't give any indications to say anything.

Mostly, he looked around the forest and wondered why they hadn't been allowed any weapons. Phil had been allowed some - had told him what to expect, time and time again, had been annoyed when he'd kept asking, but they had been forced to give up their swords. And he didn't understand it.

Except...he did.

He felt it first. The prickling of his neck. He reached at his side for a sword that wasn't there, one that had been left back at the guardpost with Grian's ax and Ranboo's knives. His movement alerted the other two boys, who looked up and around them at the quiet forest nearing sunset.

It was Ranboo who felt it next, and he held out his hand, a tiny fire flickering there. Techno had only used his fire magic a few times in Tommy's presence - and not even on a mission, because the mission they'd gone on had had their magic blocked. 

Ranboo's power flared through the air, and Tommy let out a breath, knowing he could reach into the sky and  pluck  the magic and take it for his own - but he guessed that the taller boy probably knew his magic better than Tommy could, and he wasn't that desperate.

"What is it?" Grian hissed.

"I don't know," Ranboo said. "There's something out there." He shifted around, raising his fire and casting light in the shadows of the trees.

"Run," Tommy yelled, sensing the danger. "RUN!"

Grian spun, and a wave of power burst from him much in a fashion like Phil's, a wave of wind blasting from his palm and blowing away the rain of silent arrows that came from the trees - had been coming right for them, would have killed at worse and badly injured at best.

Tommy turned and ran, the leaves cracking under his heels as he ran towards the city - but it was miles away - and this was a  trap , how had he not  seen it , how had he been so blind? The left judge must have set this up, must have  known .

He heard the whistling this time - the footsteps against the ground that wasn't his, wasn't Ranboo's, wasn't Grian's. And he knew that they wouldn't win. That  he  wouldn't win. That his time, as much as an hourglass had had, was up.

He wouldn't outrun them. He couldn't outrun them. They were coming for him. For  him , not Ranboo - not Grian,  him .

And so he made his choice. It wasn't a smart one - it wasn't a good one - and it wasn't even one that he wanted to make, because he was  scared , though he would never admit it.

He wanted to sink to the forest floor and panic until everything was dark. He wanted to claw at his hair until there was nothing left. He wanted to scream for his coven that would never hear him. He wanted to kill the person that had set his trap - he wanted to go  home .

He saw the fear on Grian's face, the grim determination on Ranboo's as he cast a wall of fire behind them - a wall of fire that fizzled and went out because of the distance that went between them, a wall that the black-cloaked men that were chasing them stepped through as if it weren't even there. Saw the  horror  and  dread  on the faces of those who really shouldn't be in this situation.

He knew in his bones that they were there for him. That this elaborate plan had been for  him , and that he shouldn't have felt safe and at home, because the past always catches up with you.

And so, with heaving lungs and a pain in his side - he really shouldn't have eaten those cookies - he turned towards Grian who ran at his side. "Can I - can I use your power?" he gasped out.

"What?" Grian said, ducking under a branch and nearly falling on his face. Tommy caught his forearm and pulled him up. "S-sure - why?!"

"Split up," he urged. "Run."

"What are you talking about?" Ranboo demanded, sounding slightly out of breath.

"They're not here for you," he said. "They're here for me. So  run  and don't look back."

"Tommy,  wait  - " Grian said.

He stopped from his tracks and didn't let them stop, tugging on the magic that surrounded Grian and borrowing it for his own use. He spun and siphoned it all off the shorter man, who hesitated as he paused in his sprint.

"RUN!" Tommy screamed. Ranboo tugged the red-sweatered man's arm and they ran off - splitting up in the trees ahead of them.

Tommy felt Grian's power fading as the distance increased, and it took everything in him to turn around and blow what remained at the black-cloaked men in a powerful force of wind that forced them all to stop. He knew why they weren't instantly blown back - because of the stupid magic that had been created, because of the technology that allowed them to bypass Elementalist's magic. 

Pain curled in his gut from the over usage of magic, and he felt the distance between him and Grian finally catch up, the magic slipping between his fingertips like grains of sand. 

He felt the hands grab him roughly as he fell to his knees, his vision going black, and the last thought in his head the two invisible cords - one thin, and one thrice-twined - of golden light that led from him to the four individuals he considered his family; three of whom had wormed their way into his stupid heart with affection and love and shoulders to fall back on.

I'm sorry.

Chapter Text

Secretly, Tubbo hated Tommy.

Hated Tommy because his brother had taken the worst of everything in the Pit, because he was so stupidly selfish and jumped at any opportunity,  any  at all, to take Tubbo's pain away, even if it meant inflicting it upon himself. Tubbo had tried to stop him. Had really, really tried.

He'd always been too weak to do so. 

So he'd watched Tommy suffer, and that had hurt more than all the scars he'd collected, because Tommy had always been strong enough to take the fall for him, but he had never been strong enough to take the fall for Tommy. He hadn't been given that option, anyway. The Pit Owners had always been interested in seeing how far Tommy would go for him.

The answer was too far.

So in return, when they left, Tubbo made sure that he was there for Tommy on the bad days. That when Tommy had the episodes that he kept hidden from his coven, that he protected his brother with his words - that when Tommy was being stubborn he put him in his place, because Tommy was afraid of being seen as weak.

He never regretted attaching that link to Tommy when the boy had nearly died in his arms. He knew that Tommy didn't like that link because it enabled him to use Tubbo's power long-distance - and much like how a coven that was near each other had their magic greatly amplified, Tommy's siphoning of his magic would be amplified as well. But his brother never touched his power except for a few times - that day in the forest when they'd seen each other again; when they'd been fighting with swords and Tommy had fallen off the roof and Phil had interfered - times like that.

Dream was trying to teach him some fancy sword flip that had apparently worked on Techno - the pink-haired man that was reading a book that Tubbo's dyslexic brain couldn't work out didn't disagree with his coven leader's words - when Tubbo felt that string flicker with internal pain - with hatred and  rage  that he hadn't felt from Tommy in such a long time. He saw, by the way Wilbur stopped strumming his guitar and Techno glanced up in confusion and Phil stopped altogether that they felt it too. That maybe he wasn't supposed to know, because he wasn't sure they knew about the bond that connected him and Tommy - his had been forced through necessity, through  want , theirs had been through destiny. 

"What the hell...?" Phil said, confusion visible on his face. And they wouldn't know Tommy's emotions, not like  this , they'd never felt  this  before. Tubbo turned and ran out of the guardhouse, his feet hitting the grass as he stopped at the edge of the forest. His coven joined him with a few confused and choice swears, and Phil's coven did after another moment.

Iskall's coven was sitting on the ground, playing cards, and Ranboo's coven, whom he hadn't met before, but the coven leader seemed like a cool guy - stared up at him as his eyes roamed the forest, searching,  searching  - 

Because something was so very wrong and he was so very afraid. 

"What's going on?" the one called Mumbo asked warily, reaching for his sword.

"I don't know," Wilbur said, his voice distant in Tubbo's mind as he pleased with the universe to see Tommy again. "There was - was a  spike , but I don't know."

"There was," the girl called Kara, from Ranboo's coven, confirmed. "But I don't know if that was just because they solved something - we've been having small spikes all day."

"That's not it," he said, the harshness in his voice surprising even himself. "This was different."

"How do you even know?" Dream asked him, the eyes below his mask scanning the silent forest around them.

"I have one with him," he said. "A bond, I mean. It was created when I saved his life. It resulted in the nature mark on his neck. I think that's why he has a coven in the first place. Because the universe thinks he's an Elementalist."

"Oh," Wilbur said in a small voice. "I always wondered why he had the mark if he was a Siphon and not an Elementalist."

"Now you know why," Dream remarked dryly.

The bond spiked again, and Tubbo felt panic rise in him as a flock of birds cawed in the distance - but it didn't feel  normal , it was like they had been disturbed.

"What the heck...?" Iskall muttered, drawing his sword.

They all felt it now. The wrongness in the air, the quietness of the trees.

The cracking of the leaves as someone ran towards them, and Tubbo didn't know whether it was a friend or a foe - the important thing was that it  wasn't Tommy , and he didn't know where Tommy  was .

"Ranboo!" Sparklez called, relief in his voice as the boy rushed towards them, and Tubbo could see the  terror-fear-anger  on his face. 

"What's going on?" Phil demanded.

"We - we were just trying to solve the clues," Ranboo said, his hands shaking. "And - and then there were people chasing us, and they  stepped through the fire , and I don't understand - "

"Where's Tommy?" Techno said in a low voice.

"Where's Grian?" Iskall echoed.

Ranboo flinched. "He - Grian and I split up, and Tommy siphoned Grian's magic to use against them, and he told us to ran so I ran but I don't know what happened to him - "

Tubbo doesn't like the taller boy's usage of  them . It's the same voice that many people use when referring to  them  - terror and fear and unease and the pure unknown, for what could they possibly be except...them?

Another set of footsteps, and Grian stumbled out of the trees, blood leaking from a cut on his forehead, his brown eyes wide and terrified. "They got him," he gasped out. "I - I went back to look, and they  got him  - "

"Who got him?" Techno growled angrily. 

Tubbo didn't stop to listen, to hear who had taken his brother, because he  knew , he already  knew  who had gotten Tommy. Shouts echoed after him, but he was already running, his sword in hand,  knowing  he was too late, but praying that he wasn't. The fallen leaves crunched under his feet; it was almost fall, and he didn't know why he was trying to think about everything  but  Tommy at this moment. 

He stopped in a clearing - a clearing that was filled with nothing - nothing and  everything  all at once. He could feel the remnants of a Siphon working their magic, he could  see  where the leaves were trampled because of many footprints.

"What is it?" Techno said, and he jumped, spinning to see Techno and Dream - of course they had been able to keep up with him. He could see the others further into the forest, running after him. 

"He was here," he whispered.

"How do you know?" Dream said - not disbelievingly, but more a desire for information.

Tubbo opened his mouth to respond, but then he saw  it . And  it  scared the shit out of him, shook him to his very bones. He let an involuntary whimper as he knelt down and brushed aside some golden leaves to reveal a knife.

It wasn't a good one. It wasn't even fancy. It didn't even have an insignia or anything that gave it away.

But it confirmed everything he had ever learned to fear. 

The stupid crude metal dagger with its painted black hilt that had silver shining through existed in his nightmares. He  knew  that dagger - or, rather, others like it. He knew what it was for, who used it - when they gave it to children to murder each other.

He remembered it as vividly he did the scars on his arms, his back, his collarbone - he remembered it because it haunted his living and waking dreams. 

He remembered it because he'd once used an identical one to kill a little girl.

To save Tommy, sure, but that other girl had just been trying to save her best friend. 

They had been six. Six years old. Six when he killed her,  - her name was Val  - six when he shoved the dagger through her heart because that was what the Pit did to people - made them murderers. Six when he saw her friend die as well, six when he clung to Tommy's side and wondered if he should regret the choice he had made - save himself and his brother, or save that girl and her friend and die himself.

That  stupid  knife. 

Power flashed through the floodgate that held it back, and Tubbo  screamed  in pain, the knife he was holding cutting into his palm as he squeezed it, numbly watching the blood slide down his hand and onto the ground. 

The leaves around him blew away in a sweep of pure force, and he was left kneeling on the ground as the trees suddenly budded like they had months and months ago, and he felt the tears coming and couldn't stop them, because he remembered his first spring with the flowers and trees and he remembered Tommy's laughter as they stared at the sky for the first time.

After everything...was this how it was going to do back?

The dropped acorns sprouted in a burst of motion around him; a flurry of unnatural growth and sprouting that he couldn't stop, didn't  want  to stop -

Stopped. He pushed against the barriers that were protecting them, realized what he was doing - and just stopped. He gasped and slammed the floodgates closed.

This is why he never touched it. Ever. It was too uncontrollable, too  much  - he knew that he was powerful, that his emotions controlled everything he did. He turned around and saw Grian's coven mate, Scar, and Ranboo's coven mate Puffy, and George - all there, concentrating - he didn't know  why  - 

Yes. Yes, he did. 

They had been trying to stop him. Had barely succeeded, by the winded look on their faces and the sweat on their foreheads.

He slammed the floodgates closed with another set of barriers, any excess magic no longer leaking out - and the three nature Elementalists open their eyes, and George had perspiration on his forehead, and Scar was panting from the effort, but Tubbo can't bring himself to be sorry.

Maybe because he isn't. Sure, he disrupted the delicate balance of nature. The leaves around him are green again; past their flowering state. The grass has grown in the clearing underneath the leaves, and the trees that were once acorns are a dozen feet tall.

Still, he can't bring himself to care.

"Tommy is gone," he whispered, more to himself than anything. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a certain pink-haired warrior standing there with an irate look on his face. "We'll get him back," Technoblade said in a low voice.

"Promise?" Tubbo whispered.

Techno didn't answer him.

Perhaps that was for the better anyway.

Chapter Text

It was with trepidation and fear that Tommy awoke - for the first time in many, many years with the same feelings he'd always had whilst awakening in the damp and cold place called the Pit. It was different - of course, it was; the place moved every six months so that the Elementalists couldn't ever find it; but...the cells and the excess of fear in the air stayed the same. 

But this time, unlike many many others, there was no breathing he could hear that would calm him back to sleep. At least - not one he recognized.

He shot up with a gasp, his eyes glancing quickly around the small cell - to the barred door, the stone walls, and the damp mushrooms growing out of the floor and creating a nasty, musty smell he'd forgotten existed.

A girl was leaning against the wall; a girl with a metal collar around her neck and the remnants of blood leaking from under it, probably caused by chafing. She opened her hazel eyes when Tommy tried to stand.

"Hey," she said, in a soft voice that wasn't at all forced. "Shh. Calm down. If they know you're awake they'll take you."

"What?" he said warily, rubbing the back of his head where he'd been hit. He needed out of her. He could feel her power - she was an air Elementalist like Phil - suppressed; but he didn't have a collar, and if he wanted to, he could reach it. Maybe. 

He didn't want to be here. He was scared. He was terrified.

"You're an Elementalist, right?" He didn't bother explaining the specifics and nodded dumbly, still wary of her - though she was far shorter, and didn't seem like much of a threat.

After all - the enemy of his enemy was his friend, was that not true?

"Right," she said briskly. "Is your coven completed?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

The girl winced. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to break the bonds."

"What?" he hissed, shock filling him as he wrapped his mind protectively around the two different clusters of bonds - one to his coven, and one to Tubbo. 

"I had to break mine," she said softly, tears filling her pretty eyes. "It's - it's what I had to do to make them survive."

"Why?" he said, sounding horrified.

"They - they, um - they have a way of hurting your coven through your bond," she whispered, and horror and shock flooded through him. "And - and possibly killing them, and I don't know if you're anything like me, but I didn't want that. So I broke it, and they probably think I'm dead."

He felt at the pulsing golden cords that led him to his family. He couldn't imagine them missing - gone, like the leaves from the trees, like the sun from the sky - never to return.

Yet he also couldn't imagine them gone. And he has a sneaking suspicion he knew who this girl was. "What's your name?" He found himself asking. 

"Niki Nihachu," she said.

"I know your coven," he said.

"You do?" she asked, surprise in her voice as she drew nearer - like an angel in the dark; curiosity drowning out the pain. He could almost ignore the scars that nearly mirrored his older ones. 

"I'm in Wilbur's coven," he said.

She jolted. "Wil found another fourth?"

"Yes," he said.

"You have to break it," she said, more firmly. "They will kill your coven. They will kill those that have the golden cords connected to you with their stupid fucking magic and then we'll be worse off."

He couldn't let that happen. But Tubbo - "All the golden cords?" he said.

"What?" she asked.

"I have another one," he said. "To my brother. It was accidentally created."

Niki seemed disturbed. "I...have never heard of that before." Well, nobody had - he wasn't really surprised. "But you need to break it too."

"Can it be reformed?" he asked, clutching the four glowing cords like it meant everything to him. Desperation laced his tone - he didn't care if he sounded clingy. His family was everything.

"I do not know," she said in return, glancing off to the slide. "I do not think so. I only figured out how to do it through a line of Elementalists here. If you don't...then you and your coven will die." She glanced at him. "You have to break it. Before they come find you. Before they come get you."

He made his choice in the matter of seconds - he knew that this was Niki, and that she was alive and her coven thought her dead because of what she had done.

And some part of him put together the puzzle pieces and realized that his mother had done the same all those years ago. And that was why Phil had thought her dead before she truly died. "I - I don't know how."

I don't know if I have the strength to do it.

She glanced at the door briefly. "I'll help you. Sit down."

He sat down on the cold floor, fear flooding through him. His only warmth were those four bonds in his head, grounding him - but he couldn't let them get hurt because of him. He couldn't let them die because of the choices he had made.

He would figure out a way out of here. But he wouldn't let his family die before he could escape. 

She sat down across from him, and put out her hands. With a little bit of trepidation, he took them, noting that they were warm and human. She smiled at him, grimness echoing in her eyes. 

He wondered if she had done the same to survive. Tommy shook his head - no, he couldn't think about that now.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. "You can feel them, right?"

"Yes."

He felt her touch at his mind, and he jumped in surprise, shoving her out - before grudgingly let her poke her way to the bonds. Every ounce of his body screamed at him to shove her away from his loved ones, to get her  out out out  - but he had to do this.

He had to save them. If he was going to die, then he would do his damndest to make sure they lived.

A small note of surprise echoed from her in the darkness. "There really are two," she said in wonder. 

"Which one do I break first?" he asked with a hoarse voice.

"The smaller one," she said firmly. "If you break the one to your coven the remaining energy could go flooding to the single one, and it could become unbreakable. I doubt you want that."

No,  his mind shrieked.  SAVE THEM!

She took his mental grasp and wrapped it around a bit of Tubbo's cord, whispering her sweet words of encouragement into his head.

Break it.

And so Tommy gritted his teeth, grasped it, and twisted until it shattered into golden dust.

He was in a meeting with five other covens, standing in a clearing with their weapons - preparing to head to the mountains, where the Pit had apparently been located by a scouting group, when he felt it.

Felt someone on the other side of that single golden cord touch it. He felt happiness fill him, and he sent a bit of energy down that cord, as if to tell Tommy that everything would be okay, that they were coming, though they could not communicate with words. 

And then...he felt someone grasp it, twisting it, pulling at it, breaking it. 

Fear. He had never felt fear like this, not in the longest time, and he spun, everyone in the clearing jumping at his sudden movement.

"What's going on, Tubbo?" Dream asked him.

He pushed away his coven leader and grasped his sword - but at this moment, he was utterly helpless, because there was nothing he could do.

"TOMMY!" he screamed, the sword clattering to the floor, and his hands coming to clutch his heart, where the bond was located.

"What's happening?" Phil demanded, terror in his voice. The others were silent, some of them turning to look towards the mountains.

"Don't go," he begged, tears pouring down his face, staring at the white-tipped peaks and the rocky hollows that lay beneath. " Please don't leave me ." Desperation leaked from his voice, but he didn't care, couldn't care, because Tommy -

"What the fuck is going on?" Wilbur asked, panic in his tone.

He ignored them. He poured all of his love for his brother down that bond, strengthening it, begging the universe that Tommy was alive, that the bond wouldn't break, and that Tommy wasn't dying. 

He felt that bond snap as surely as the sun had set the previous night; felt it fade to dust like the ashes in the fires - felt Tommy disappear from him. 

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

"NO!" he screamed, the sword dropping from his hand and crashing to the leaf-filled floor. "TOMMY!" Heartbreak and horror and denial crushed him like a thousand pounds of rocks had slammed into his chest, and he couldn't move, couldn't breathe properly.

"Tubbo, what's happening?!" Techno said, grabbing Tubbo's shoulder and spinning him around to face the panic-filled eyes of the pink-haired man.

And because he was facing Tommy's coven mate, because he was staring up with tear-filled eyes at the older man, he saw the moment it happened.

Saw the moment that the bond snapped between Tommy and his coven as well.

He didn't know why his has broken first. Perhaps because they had a closer connection.

Whatever the case, it didn't matter. 

Because Tommy was gone.

Technoblade stumbled back, clutching at his head, and Phil screamed in wrath-fury-rage as only a father could, and Wilbur shouted as well - but they were all helpless as they felt Tommy fade from him, grasping at the broken bond like spider silk on a chilly morning. 

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

After everything, Tommy was gone. Through thick and thin, through blood and tears shed, through sixteen years of his life - Tommy was gone.

Just like that. 

He felt warm arms wrap around him, and he realized he was sobbing loudly, and he clutched to that warmth - he thought it was Phil, but he wasn't sure, but he clutched tightly like the world was going to fade to ashes, because to him   - to him, it was, and everything was so quiet without Tommy.

Like it was empty. Gone. Like everything had blinked out, all at once. Like the sun had promised to set and never rise again, the coldness seeping into his bones.

Tommy was gone.

He wondered if one day that he would forget Tommy's face.

He wondered if he could survive without his other half.

He felt like one day he would forget his brother's laugh, just as he had all but forgotten his mother's face until the paintings in Phil's house had haunted his memories.

There were no paintings of Tommy. No renditions of his brother.

Would he forget?

He was pretty sure he was suffocating the person he was clinging on to for dear life - they didn't seem to mind. He was pretty sure that a part of him had died the moment that Tommy had. He was pretty sure that he couldn't survive without the person he loved.

His face was wet with his tears, and he couldn't stop crying .

Tommy...Tommy was gone.

His eyes hurt from the crying, and he opened it and he saw the green robes that Phil always wore, and words just slipped out of him faster than he could control it.

"Dad, Tommy's gone," he whimpered. 

"I know, son," Phil whispered back. "I know."

Somehow, that hurt more than anything. 

He felt the tear streaks on his face as he opened his eyes, and he looked up to see Niki crying as well.

"I could feel Wil's pain," she whispered. "Right before you broke it. I could feel his shock and terror, and then it was just gone."

Tommy wrapped his arms around his knees and felt the emptiness consume him. He hadn't realized that those golden cords were the only thing keeping him grounded - reminding him that he was alive.

He wondered if Grian and Ranboo had gotten away to safety.

He wondered if his coven were still searching for him. Probably - at least for revenge; Niki was trying to be located as well. They didn't know she was alive.

The door crashed open, and Niki gasped, fear echoing throughout the tiny stone cell, and Tommy felt himself get grabbed and pulled up and away from Niki; the girl looking at him with wide and fearful eyes.

He didn't bother pushing them away as he stared at the ground - at the tiny stains that he knew to be blood; because he had shed some himself - not here, but in other Pits, other places, other cells. There were three people around him, and he wondered if he could take them - but then shook his head inwardly.

His family would come for him. The easiest way to die was incompliance. 

And besides, he was scared. He remembered the days he walked this path with a proud step, and he remembered not being afraid - but oh, the times had changed, and he had so much to lose now - more to lose than the life of his brother. He was so  afraid that it physically hurt.

He was shoved into a room that he did recognize, for when he looked up an identical-looking doctor was telling him to sit in a chair - a chair that had straps and he couldn't escape because it was bolted to the ground, but he knew he had to, and so with a stumble in his walk, he sat down and allowed the straps to be tightened around his arms and legs.

He had done this many times before. In nightmares, in memories, in his dreams, he remembered this.

The doctor, whose name he did not know, but would learn to know as it filtered into his night terrors, knelt down and forced him to look him in the eyes.

"What's your name, boy?" He didn't like that voice. 

"Tommy," he muttered. There were hundreds of Tommy's out there. One more wouldn't change a thing.

"Well, then, Tommy. "

A pause.

"Let's play a game."

Chapter Text

Tommy was thrown unceremoniously into the break room hours later - he didn't know how long, but he coughed up his blood and stood up, his head ringing.

He tried to stop the panic that wanted to take him over at the feeling of the cold metal pressed against his throat. His hands shook with the effort of not breaking down and fading into the darkness - he couldn't be seen as weak, not  here , not now.

Speaking of here...the door slammed shut behind him, and Tommy looked at the teenagers and children sitting in the room, staring at him. In any other situation, he would have laughed at the bleakness that hung like a cloud in the room. If it had been like before, he would have laughed, waltzed around, made a few pointed jokes, and sat down next to Tubbo on one of the cafeteria benches.

But to them, he was essentially the new kid. Glancing around, he felt a tinge of sadness that the people he had known when he'd escaped weren't here. That they were probably dead. 

He saw the wary looks on the teenagers, and immediately realized that they no longer separated those born here and those captured. He could recognize those born here - those with the higher hopes in their eyes, believe it or not. They didn't know anything about the outside world except the stories - the fantasies - they had been told. 

There were about fifty to sixty of them; from ages five to maybe around twenty. The toddlers were kept in another area, he knew that. These were the people made to play the games, to fight each other. 

They were all silent, staring at him.

He mustered a grin on his face and stepped away from the door, ignoring the sharp pain in his head. He had survived this once - he could do it again. 

A tall girl stood up. She had a scar across her face; and had green eyes. Tommy instantly saw the look in her eyes - one of dangerous perception, and she swept her black braid over her shoulder as she eyed Tommy, crossing her arms.

Tommy knew instantly that, as one of the eldest, and the longest-surviving - she had been brought here at a young age, after all - she was probably the leader. Her once-over of him reminded him of a wolf surveying their prey - except he was a wolf under a bunny pelt, and he raised his chin and stared her down.

She snorted. "Awfully brave for a first-timer, huh?" she asked. 

He rolled his eyes at her. He knew her type - she was trying to protect him more than anything. She didn't think he would last long - he was a teenage boy, and an Elementalist at that. She probably thought he was overconfident, like many of the Elementalists that were brought here - and not used as toys in the games - were. 

She was as well, though her power lay dormant. Until she used it, the tattoo of crashing waves would not appear upon her neck. To the Pit Owners, she was just a normal person. Tommy could feel the water magic swirling in the air, pressing, asking to be let out. He wanted to know what it felt like, to keep it in. He certainly never had; not to this length. 

"I'm Tommy," he said, holding out his hand.

She shook it with a cautious grip. It wasn't because she didn't trust him - she didn't, but he knew that look on her face, because he had hidden many of his own that way. 

"Guppy."

He wasn't surprised by the name. She had probably been thrown in here at a young age - maybe five or six - and many of them either forgot or left their name behind as they transitioned into being slaves to the Pit Owners. She had probably named herself. It wasn't the worst name he'd ever heard. At the mention of her name, the others around them turned back to their talking and eating; though the closest were clearly eavesdropping. 

"How long have you been here?" he found himself asking.

A note of surprise entered her face - probably because that was the first question he'd asked. But he didn't really need to know more - he'd  made  the rules in this place, nearly eight years ago. 

"I'm nineteen, almost twenty," she said slowly. "So...ten years or so."

He was surprised that it wasn't longer. After all, either her parents hated her by naming her Guppy or she had changed her name. He was willing to bet that it was the latter. 

She watched as he scrutinized the room. "You're an odd character," she remarked.

"Yes," he said easily. "Maybe it's because I've been here before." He flashed her a quick grin as he spotted Niki, starting to head over.

Guppy caught his arm as he passed, and he turned to stare into her green eyes, filled with wonder and astonishment. "You - you escaped?"

"Yep," he said easily. 

A moment of silence.

"TommyInnit?"

He felt surprise fill him. "You know me?"

"Of course I do," she said. "You and your brother are legends. I didn't actually think you were  real , of course, but...sometimes I remember you." He tried to search his memories, but couldn't remember any black-haired girls with green eyes. She smiled sheepishly. "I kept mostly to myself. I remember when you vanished. They said you'd died, but the guards quadrupled, and the older ones said you'd escaped. Are the dreams true?"

"What?" he asked.

"The blue sky," she whispered. "Is it real? Like in my dreams? The ones brought here say it's real, but I don't trust them. Sometimes they lie to try to escape."

He debated lying to her - trying not to get her hopes up, and then he remembered how and why he had escaped. Because he had had hope that there would be something else besides the rock and stone and darkness.

"Yes," he whispered back, and Guppy's smile brightened exponentially. "And my coven is coming for me."

"They all say that," she said, but there was a note of hope in her voice.

He laughed dryly. The other Elementalists with covens  had  said that. And it had never happened. "Oh, you don't know my coven. They'll scour the earth to find me." Despite every bad interaction he'd had with them, he knew this to be true. 

"There aren't enough of them," Guppy said mournfully.

"They were already planning on attacking the mountains," he said. "That's where we are, right? Under the mountains?" Guppy's eyes widened, and she nodded. "They will find us. They already think I'm dead, but they're coming. I know one of them will burn the world down to find me - and to be fucking honest, I'd do the same."

"How long were you here, before?" she asked, her eyes searching his.

"Twelve years," he answered honestly. "My brother and I were born here. We escaped. And I'll do it again, and we'll destroy this place, and no teenagers or children will  ever  have to see that sandpit again."

"You really are TommyInnit, aren't you?" she asked, voice full of wonder.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I am. And we're going to get out of here. All of us."

He left her in silence and sat down next to Niki, who stared at him - and his collar with wide eyes.

"You good?" she murmured.

"Yes," he said. "I'm perfectly fine."

He dragged a bowl of oatmeal towards him and stared at it for a second. Niki nudged his shoulder.

"It's better with jam," she said, handing him a tiny cup with maybe a spoonful of it in it.

The memories hurt. He knew that this place was awful...but some part of him felt at home here. Maybe if there wasn't any pain, any suffering, any bloodshed - it would be a childhood. Maybe this metal place full of glowing lights and sharp swords would count as something. Because despite all the bad memories, there  were  some good ones. After all, kids always tried to make the best of every moment. He remembered learning to read from the older kids, to write, to do basic math so he could survive those  games , he remembered laughing with Tubbo about the stupidest and dumbest of topics. He remembered the grins the other children had on their free days - he remembered eating breakfast and smiling because he had survived another day.

He knew that to most people, this was a childhood. He knew that they thought this was it. That this was  everything . That the only thing that existed beyond this were fantasies. The kids that had been brought here at an older age knew far better than that, but the younger ones, the ones taught to survive at a younger age, survived longer - and because of it, it was  their  ideals,  their  ideas, that lived on. It was them that survived, and not the memories of the older ones, the ones that remembered the sky and the trees and the buzzing bees. It was the skills of the younger ones, the survivors, that lived on. It wasn't the fond childhoods of the older ones; the tastes of market foods, the smells of city air, the loving arms of parents - the memories of the older ones. Those either faded, replaced with needed lessons to survive, or if they were clung to - died.

He took the strawberry jam with trembling fingers. Throughout everything, it was still here. The little porcelain bowl; passed through hands and treated like gold - unlike swords, there were no replacements, at least none easily gotten - with small chips and cracks that sang of love and anger and hope - was something that he had gotten, so many years ago.

It had been a gift from one of the Pit Masters the day he killed his first Elementalist. He had hated it. He had hated what it had stood for. He wanted to smash it against the wall and leave the shards to lie forever, just as the person he had killed would never come back.

In the end, he had left it on the table, and the next day it had been full of sweet strawberry jam - a taste that would lead to children waking up early and clambering for its sweetness. 

It was still here.

After everything.

"I know," he said. "I brought it here."

Chapter Text

It was...weird, at first. 

He was terrified - of course, he was.

But he was also interested. It was like another country down here, another place - with their own traditions, their own ideals, their own styles. he had forgotten that they were people instead of slaves, and that they could smile. In his stupidity, he had drowned out all the happy memories; few as they existed, with the horrible ones.

He had forgotten that laughter existed. That through the sad times, there were happy ones as well. That even if they were all scared and terrified, there were three times a week they got to relax in the break room - which included heavy practice swords that he and Tubbo used to go at with each other, balanced in all the wrong ways, as Sapnap and Techno had both commented. 

It was later at night, about an hour before they were supposed to head - or, rather, be escorted - back to their cells - that they gathered in the other room for a tradition that Tommy remembered vividly.

Why?

Well, because he had always been the Champion for the Pit side. He had been the best, after all. When he wasn't available - sick, or injured, or didn't feel up to it - Tubbo or another teen usually took on his role. 

"I suppose you know about this, then?" Guppy asked him when everything had quieted down, and the nearly five-dozen kids had settled into their corners to watch the fight.

Tommy surveyed the area for a moment, nodding at Niki, who smiled back. "I would say so, yeah. I was the reigning champion for about four years."

Guppy seemed surprised at that, but then understanding flooded her. "Hope you haven't lost your touch."

"I would fucking hope not," he snorted, shaking his head as he entered the room.

"Hey everyone!" Guppy said. "This is Tommy, he's the new - or sort of new - " she gave Tommy a side-eye. " - kid around here. And as is our very formal tradition to put the older ones in their place, though in this situation I don't really get it -  but anyway , he's going to try to defeat our champion in combat."

A girl rose gracefully from the stands, and the kids - especially the younger ones - cheered her on. After all, this was all in good fun - and it was good practice. As long as the challengee remained a good sport, everyone could laugh and place bets.

Usually on the champion.

In the corner, he saw Niki staring at him, and he nodded. She raised a single eyebrow, but turned to the boy sitting next to her and started talking. He seemed surprised - but Tommy knew that was probably because she was betting on him. Most people didn't do that. In fact, looking around - he knew he seemed like one of those overconfident Elementalist boys.

Maybe he was.

But Niki was definitely going to win the extra shower and meal chits. 

"So," Tommy said, using the extra time to get a feel of the weapon in his hands. It was definitely lighter than the metal ones - though it was thick wood; so not by much. "Who am I fighting?"

"Me," a voice said easily, and Tommy looked over to see a boy about the same age as him, in a shoddily dyed purple shirt and with blonde hair and blue-purple eyes. "I'm Purpled."

"Of course you are," Tommy said. "I'm Tommy."

"Nice to meet you, Tommy," Purpled said, his eyes flashing - not with distaste, nor disdain, but a sort of...sadness. Well, nobody expected him to survive his first fight.

That was fine. He was a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Elementalist teenager. He was everything that a teenager should be. He was brash and full of emotions and irrational.

He was also everything a teenager was not. He was cool and calculated and calm when need be. He made choices that he shouldn't have to.

"Bring it," he said with a grin on his face as he held his sword loosely at his side.

"Are you sure?" Purpled asked. "It's perfectly okay to not fight, you know." Well, it wasn't. Not in terms of the honor system, anyway.

"Nah, I'm good," he said easily, feeling the grin flash across his face. Glancing at Guppy, he saw her deep in conversation with the shorter woman with lilac hair that had stood up before and seemed to be adored by the younger ones around. 

"Okay," Purpled said. There was unease on his face as he came at Tommy - but Tommy was glad that Purpled knew enough to not be overconfident, and there was a bit of hesitation on his face as he swung his sword at Tommy's arm.

He moved with practiced ease, twisting and bringing up his weapon to parry Purpled's. The shorter boy looked shocked - but hid it well, and doubled down on his efforts to try to hit Tommy - as was the goal; to get the tip of the wooden sword pointed at the heart or the neck. 

And he wasn't going to discredit Purpled's efforts either. He himself had  designed  some of the moves Purpled was using - after all, there were no swordsmen down here to teach them how to use the imbalanced swords. There was nobody but themselves and the lessons they learned through much trial and error. 

And while Tommy had been good - very good - before he had met his coven, he knew he'd gotten better. He knew that Dream and Techno were professionals, and despite he and Tubbo deciding on using the odd swords from the slave pits - they'd had a long conversation about it, and had decided that it was just a tool, in the end, and the memories would be created differently, and hopefully happy this time around - and the two had taught he and his brother so much. He wasn't as shoddy, as desperate looking, as dirty-fighting as he'd been before. He knew things that kids in the Pit didn't.

And so nearly twenty seconds into the fight, he locked swords with Purpled, and then expertly twirled the sword out of the other boy's grip, the thick clunk of it echoing against the floor.

Silence. Dumbfounded, stupid silence.

Tommy lowered the sword from where it rested against Purpled's jugular. "I win," he whispered.

Niki clapped loudly, starting a transition that ended in the entire circle clapping - some in awe, most in disbelief. He saw the relieved look on her face, and he smiled at her as he handed Purpled's swords back to him.

"Who are you?" Purpled whispered.

"Tommy," he said. "I'm just Tommy."

He turned to go, but Purpled's words of disbelief stopped him. "Like TommyInnit?"

He paused. "Yes," he said finally. "Exactly like that." He leaned closer, his voice fading into a whisper. "I'm no legend, though. I'm the real deal."

He walked away with a proud smirk on his face and left Niki to collect her extra meal and shower chits.

He knew it would get worse from here.

It did, of course, get worse. 

He lay in the cold darkness, listening quietly to Niki's breathing. Usually, he was huddle closer to Tubbo for warmth - but this was a sort-of unknown person, and a woman nonetheless, so he didn't  dare  scoot any closer. He shivered in that cell, alone and freezing, wishing that he had the scarf that he'd shed so many weeks ago in favor of revealing himself to the world. 

And when the next day it was revealed that he would be in the Pit - luckily for a puzzle and not a fighting match - he wasn't much surprised. Newbies didn't survive in the Pit very long. They got their first match soon; and spectators came to see the new blood before anyone else could get their dirty betting hands on it. 

Because of course, this place had a purpose besides kidnapping Elementalists. It was a place for entertainment; especially for the rich, who could place their dirty money on children that they didn't care about except for a good performance. 

He knew the other children were watching him as he stepped onto the arena. Despite everything, he knew that they silently cheered each other on - except on the killing days. Then nobody watched, that way there would be no judgemental eyes. And when one walked out and the other didn't...well, there were tears of course, but no blame. That was survival. They cared for each other - but not enough to both die as martyrs. 

He is no longer wearing his white and red shirt - instead, he is wearing the stupid off-white clothes of a new kid. Most of the kids changed theirs over the years; whether that was by haggling dyes from the guards or by stealing colored shirts.

That was their little society, down in the Pit. He had forgotten that they weren't just children wanting to go home - that they were  people , that they had a culture and things they did to mourn for the people lost. That they were all in this together.

His feet hurt in the sand. He's barefoot, with only scraps wrapped around his arches and his ankles to prevent blisters - he'd learned that the hard way the  first  time he'd stepped onto the sands so many years ago.

It's weird.

His events had always been -  well , events, with massive cheering crowds and loud noises. A part of him had both hated and reveled in the popularity. They didn't care for  him , only what he could do  for  them. But it gave him a sense of pride that he wasn't just some nameless boy - he had been TommyInnit.

Now he was just Tommy. He was happy to be just Tommy. There were perhaps a dozen people waiting for him. He didn't care about them - didn't even glance up, and watched as the massive hourglass full of tiny black beads was flipped through a glass portion of the wall.

He wondered how much blood was buried in the sand. If there were any bodies here. He doubted it... but he wondered, sometimes, when his foot hit hard spots that  felt  like bones but were only rocks.

He wondered how many people had died. 

He stepped closer to the table on the desk, a single match, a small hourglass - he really hated hourglasses - and two pieces of rope that lay on it. This wasn't some obstacle course - no, this was just a test of whether he was smart enough to actually compete and be bet on.

A voice rings out from an unknown source - he'd never figured out where it had come from; not that he'd much cared. That had never been important. 

"In front of you, there are two ropes coated in burning oil."

Now that Tommy looked closer, he could indeed see the glimmering sheen of oil.

"Each one will burn through in exactly one minute, top to bottom. However, the ropes do not burn at a constant rate - there are spots where they burn a little faster and spots where they burn a little slower, but it always takes one hour to finish the job."

His mind flew through the different scenarios. Two ropes. If he were to light one end, it would take a minute to completely burn up. Okay. Should be simple. They weren't at a constant rate - so he couldn't judge a halfway burn as thirty seconds. 

"The hourglass on your table measures forty-six seconds. You can only flip it over once. Once it starts, you cannot stop it. Your goal is to measure forty-five seconds of rope-burning time. You must flip the hourglass first before you start to burn anything. You have ten minutes to complete this task, or else it will be marked as a failure and you will be removed from the arena."

Okay. So he had two ropes - both measured a minute, and using that ropes, he had to create forty-five seconds of rope-burning time. Should be easy.

He didn't like this. Not at all, not one bit. It hurt him both physically and mentally to be back here.

Not the riddle. The riddle was easy. He had already solved it. But to be  here , with that stupid voice - and to die if he failed - well, that hurt more than anything.

Without the pain or death, it would be a game. Just a game. That's all it was. That's all it was to the spectators. 

Without the fear of death, the separation anxiety, the torture people went through - it was just a game.

Only a game.

Tommy picked up one of the ropes and twisted it so both ends were face-up in his hand. He picked up the third rope and touched it so all three tips were facing upwards. His hands felt slippery from the oil. He reached over with his free hand and flipped the hourglass.

Deftly, he struck the match against the table and lit the three ends of the rope. One of the ropes had two ends burning; the other only one. He dropped them back on the table and waited, staring at it. It seemed to burn an imprint into the already-burn marred table. He waited with the match in his hand for the first rope to burn out - it took thirty seconds - and then lit the other end of the second rope.

And without even returning to look at the timer, he turned and walked away from the table.

He knew he had passed. When he reached the doorway, the gong sounded, signaling that he had succeeded, and there was a grim smile on his face as he exited the arena for the first time in many, many years. 

It would not be his last.

Chapter Text

It was almost like a game. 

Almost. 

It could almost be a childhood.

Almost.

It was almost fun.

Almost.

Almost, because it was hard to forget that they were prisoners. That even with the strawberry jam and the shitty-tasting oatmeal - they were slaves, and couldn't leave. That these people had kidnapped children and had turned them against each other; in turn accidentally creating a close-knit society of people who wanted to  survive .

He looked at the schedule and felt a bit of relief that he didn't have any puzzles or fights for the next few days - he had a fight with a group of guards in four days, but that was all.

It was all so awfully and elegantly organized. It wasn't even a  mess , it wasn't out of place - it was professional and composed and... well, Tommy didn't want to compliment the Pit.

But it was a horrible place. He knew because of the question mark listed exactly in a week's time. He knew that one of the kids in this room, gathered around the message board, or eating breakfast, or whatever they were doing - one of them would die. 

He knew this. He knew it wasn't a game as he stared at the piece of paper and Niki looked ready to burst into shaky sobs next to him.

Maybe that was because he knew that while he could live, Niki had a smaller chance. He saw her marked for the day before his; also fighting a cordon of guards.

"You've been here for like seven months, right?" he said.

"Nearly eight," she said. "But I've only had two fights, and they were both one-on-ones, not against  six guards . The rest were puzzles."

"Hey," he said softly. "You're going to survive."

Niki wiped the corner of her eyes furiously. "I'm glad you think that I have the talents to kill those men. That - that I  could  kill those people."

"Mentally or physically?" he asked, dragging her over, out of the way, so others can see if they will die this week.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you not  want  to kill them, or do you not have the skill for killing them?" he asked patiently.

She turned away, brow furrowing curiously. "I...I think I could kill them," she said slowly. "It's not like it's another kid down here. I know they've done things to deserve it. But - but I've never been good with a sword, and these swords are  so  different than the ones I've trained with - I'm probably going to die."

He snorted. "Scott and Wilbur would  kill  me if I let you die. So I'm not going to let you die."

"It's not like you can just take my place," she said.

"I've done it before," he said truthfully. "But that was a one-time thing, and I doubt they'd let me do it here. I brought in more money and was well-known, so they let me do it. Here, I'm the  new boy ."

Niki's eyes softened. "You're a good kid, Tommy," she said. "You look like your father."

Surprise flashed through him, and his eyes widened. "You know who my father is?"

"What, did they not?"

"No," he said shortly.

Niki laughed. " Seriously ? You look so much like Phil and - well, I've only seen pictures of Kristin, but you have her smile and nose."

"They didn't get it until a Retention showed them," he said. "And I didn't know until Tubbo showed me Kristin's false grave."

Niki shook her head, brushing her hair out of her face with an annoyed smile. "Oh, those idiots. One time, Wilbur - "

It wasn't that Tommy didn't want to listen. It was more that he accidentally stopped listening, because talking about Wilbur reminded him that he felt empty inside, that those four golden cords were  missing , possibly gone forever, because of what he'd had to do. He had been blocking it out, trying to forget the loss that resonated deeply within him.

He'd told the doctors he didn't have a coven. They believed him, but not before trying to tear through his mind and  kill  his coven mates - and Tubbo as well.

As much as he hated the emptiness, he was suddenly glad that the bonds were gone. As much as he felt like a  part  of him was missing - maybe it was - he was glad that they couldn't do what he'd overheard them talking about and snap the bonds in such a way it could create a whiplash of power and kill the hosts.

He could feel the air magic flowing around Niki, though it felt...unused. Old. 

As for the other Elementalist here... he was just as old as Tommy, but his power lay deep within him. Hidden. And the boy in question didn't seem to be aware of the blue magic that soared around him that Tommy could feel by simply reaching out. 

The collar didn't stop him from feeling the powers. Maybe from using them - well, it didn't; it just shocked him until he  stopped ; Niki had explained that much. 

They'd thought he was a nature Elementalist.

He knew with dread that they were going to do tests on him. Make him do things. Wilt trees. Grow flowers.

He couldn't do that. Not alone, at least. Not without Tubbo's bond. Not without a nature mage.

He was already afraid of what they would do without his compliance. He was already petrified of what would happen to him. If he would die, because he  couldn't  tell them he was a Siphon, surely not. Then everything would be far, far worse.

Worse than it already was.

"Tommy?  Tommy !"

There was a hand on his shoulder, and he shook himself out of his thoughts, his mind coming back to the present - staring into the worried eyes of Niki.

"Hey," the girl said softly. "You gotta focus on the present. Stop thinking about the past. That - "

" - is how you die," he said automatically, the words falling off his lips.

Niki paused. "Well, I was going to say that you could end up hurt, but I guess you know better than that, don't you?"

He swallowed heavily, unable to look into her pitying eyes. "Y-yeah. I do, sort of."

"That's okay," Niki whispered, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "I - I haven't had to do anything horrible, not like that - I'm lucky." She let out a shaky breath. "But every month goes by and I'm - I'm  terrified  that those two question marked names will be mine."

His mouth was set in a thin line as he looked around. People had begun to drift off, those going the next few days looking shaken. He knew that unless there was a severe accident, none of them would truly die. No, the Pit Owners wanted the deaths to be by  each other . Sure, Tommy would be fighting a group of guards. And if he failed, he would most likely be severely injured.

But unless he was left to die, he wouldn't. Niki looked terrified, though. He wasn't surprised. She'd merely had puzzles before. And apparently two smaller fights, both one-on-ones. 

"I was the cause of other's deaths from a very young age," he said slowly. "A girl named Ash is one...there are so many. But I was always able to say that it wasn't my fault that they died. That in the end, the Pit Owners killed them." He took in a deep breath and let it out. "Then, when I was twelve, I killed an Elementalist named Ren."

Niki's eyes widened. "You mean - mean the one from Iskall's coven?"

He wasn't proud when he nodded. "Yep. And barely three weeks later, I was chosen to compete in a race to the death against Astelic. I purposely failed, even though Tubbo told me to try hard, but I - I just  couldn't  do it."

"Tubbo's your brother, right?"

"He killed someone when he was six," he said, feeling slightly disorientated, especially when Niki gave a small intake of breath. "And he dealt with it then, and I wasn't strong enough to deal with it at twice his age - so I put myself in the position, and then Astelic put her answer in for me, and she was taken away, and I had to learn to bear the burden of yet another death on my shoulders." 

"That doesn't make you weak."

"It - "

"It doesn't make you  weak ," she said sharply. "Would you consider Technoblade weak?"

"What?" he said. "Of course not! Techno is an amazing person, and sort of like...well, whatever."

"You don't," Niki said. "Because he isn't. But he hasn't killed any Elementalists before he was considered a teenager.  That  isn't what makes you strong. Sure, you have your struggles. And maybe...maybe some of them were more hurting than others. But it's how you  overcome  your battles that makes you strong. You fall the farthest, and it takes longer to stand up straight. You have seen the wall of death and you looked away, Tommy. Your brother as well. And if that doesn't make you one of the strongest people I've met, then I think that this world is hopeless."

"There are so many people out there that are better than me," he said, his voice cracking halfway through. "So many people that deserve the happiness I received."

"The fact that you grew up in this place, was  born  in it, breathed this air the moment you stood up for the very first time - and are regretful of the things you have done speaks more measures than most people," Niki said firmly. "I don't think I would blame you if you weren't regretful. Both of you did what you had to survive. Perhaps I'm more of the type of person to try to get the arena to rise up against the masters...but you never knew freedom, did you?"

"I'd never seen the sky," he said weakly. "They used to keep us apart from the older ones. So we didn't know what was out there. That there was freedom."

Niki looked saddened by this fact, her lips pursing in a measure of annoyance and anger; though not by any means directed at Tommy. "We have to get them out of here."

Tommy knew exactly who  they  were. The other kids, though few in number, like him and Tubbo. "We have to survive first."

Niki hung her head. "You know those heroes? In the books? They put everyone before them."

"This isn't a storybook," he said gently. "This is real life. It's okay to hold your life higher in dangerous situations. Besides, in order to get everyone out, we have to survive."

"But as Elementalists - " she started.

"I once thought they were evil," he said. "I guess...maybe they're not perfect. Though - nobody is. I don't know why I was holding them to such high standards. I suppose it was because they never rescued my mother or us. But...I mean, how could they have?" he shrugged helplessly. "The Pit moved around every six months or so. They broke the coven bonds.  We  broke  our  coven bonds too. I saw how hard Phil was trying - how the covens were trying. And yeah - there are bad ones. But the ones I saw - they tried  so  hard, Niki. Your coven misses you  so  much. I saw Scott a few times - Fundy and Eret as well. Every time we got a new lead they just...stopped sleeping. It wasn't for revenge - well, it was - but I saw it in their words. They didn't want this to happen to anyone else. Phil was trying as well, but after Tubbo and I...it became personal. He was trying to make sure that no more kids were born in this place."

"Do you think that we're going to succeed?" Niki whispered.

He glanced over his shoulder at the nearly-empty room. Most of them had either filtered into the sparring room or had been led out by guards. Purpled was staring at them with his dirty blonde hair and shimmering violet eyes. Tommy knew he had no idea what they were talking about - but it unsettled him all the same.

"I think," he said, staring at the boy with the water magic flowing out of every crevice - yet somehow unknown. "That we have a damn good chance."

Chapter Text

When he was younger, the guards had shoved a sword in his hand and turned him towards another kid and told them to fight. 'Course, it hadn't been a real sword - merely one made out of wood, but the bruises remained for many weeks. 

When he was younger, he'd obtained a brand on his chest marking him as a slave. It was faded now - but it was there, white and  angry  and hurting. Forever. 

When he was younger, he learned to fight, to get  away  from those horrid green and purple and blue marks on his skin, to block the thin piece of wood that made them. To fight back, to understand that hurting others was the only way to win.

Somehow, throughout that, he understood that he should not be hurting others, and he always backed off. Sometimes...not enough, though, and he would get bruises because he had given too many; or taken to the testing rooms to get his 'blood drawn', or any of the other stupid excuses they used to hurt him until he passed out.

That was his childhood.

Somehow, throughout all of that, he'd stayed sane.

It had gotten better as he'd grown older. The guards didn't force him to fight others anymore - he practiced because it was a way of overpowering the anger out of him. And only Tubbo could understand that you  had  to hold yourself back on the sands. 

So he'd practiced with Tubbo, and they had gone at each other until they were panting, half-dead from exhaustion, their wooden sparring swords splintered and cracked. Because  that  was the only way to get better.  That  was the only way that they could survive. That was one way to channel their anger so Tommy didn't go psycho when Tubbo was taken away from him and kill both of them in the process of resisting.

That was the only way to bear when they woke up and saw the other one covered in bruises and blood and crying out to a mother that was gone. 

If they were tired enough - if they were wary enough - they didn't have the energy to fight back. 

So they hadn't.

Tommy spun around and knocked the sword out of Niki's grip with a clean swipe, watching as the piece of wood went clattering to the floor. Near them, Guppy paused, curiosity marring her face, and leaving the other girl she was sparring, the same lilac haired girl from two nights ago, to whack her across the back with her practice sword.

"There is no such thing as elegance and grace," he said, as Niki sighed and bent down and picked up the sword with a small frown on her face. "Not down here."

"I don't particularly like fighting dirty," Niki said wryly.

"Then learn to," he said darkly. Niki had  just  enough reaction time to raise her sword as Tommy swung it towards her head, the girl letting out a shriek of surprise.

"You know," Niki said with a small grunt as she twisted away from his knee as it arced towards her chest. Her eyes glimmered with unsaid words. "I've never been much of a fighter. But I'll fight when need be."

There were guards around. Watching them. Making sure they didn't use the wood for anything other than its intended purpose - making weapons out of people. 

"So then learn to fight back," Tommy said, his words carrying a meaning that was only heard by Niki. "Learn to fight because  you  want to, learn to rise up and  win ."

The girl's eyes flashed in a rebellious challenge, and Tommy could have sworn that her swings became double the effort.

All for the sake of rebellion.

He walked onto the sands of the arena with a limp in his left leg, grimacing at the tug of pain that he felt in his heel every time he walked.  Why  did they have to decide that  today , of all days, was a good time to carve off a bit of his callus?

First of all, that was fucking gross. Second of all, it fucking  hurt  to walk on. He was basically walking on a wadded blood-filled tissue - courtesy of Purpled, who had given him a cloth to shove in his shoe at the last possible minute.

The fights had gone well this week. No talk of Elementalists attacking - he didn't know whether that was good or bad - but no deaths either.

He knew that would change in three days. He knew that  one  of the people he'd eaten breakfast with, shared stories with, had seen laugh because of some stupid joke he'd made that had ended up with him getting a bruise in the shoulder from one of the humorless guards - would be dead. That there was nothing any one of them could do.

More often than not, he had to hold Niki back when one of the younger children was taken. She had a good heart, but people with good hearts quickly  lost  that heart down here. She already had enough attention as it was with that band around her neck. She didn't need any more.

It was ridiculously easy to cut down the guards. Technically, he wasn't supposed to kill them, but he didn't really care. They hadn't explicitly told him  not  to, anyway. 

He couldn't sleep that night. It wasn't the murder that did it - no, that was wrathful and full of revenge, he didn't regret  that  - but it was the loneliness that plagued him; kept him awake. It felt  empty  without the golden energy of people that convinced him that he wasn't alone.

Sometime during the night, Niki rolled over, her eyes dim in the candlelight shining from the hallway, where guards passed every fifteen minutes. "Can't sleep?" she whispered. 

He shook his head numbly.

"I miss them too," she said, putting a hand over her heart. "But I know they'll be back someday."

"You said yourself that it might never be reconnected," he said dubiously, hugging his knees to his chest.

She shrugged. "Either I see them again, or I see them again...after." She waved her hand meaningfully. "I know one day I won't be lonely."

"You're going to win tomorrow."

She snorted. "You were amazing."

"I killed them."

"Let's be fair, they deserved it. I couldn't do that. At most, I'll knock them out."

"You have a good heart, Niki," he said with a smile. "And you're going to win."

"Hopefully," she whispered. 

"Definitely," he whispered back.

And Niki walked out of the arena alive.

Not well - she had a slice down her forearm that Tommy watched Guppy's wife - when had she found the time to get  married , especially down here - do up the bandages. She had a bruise on her ribs, and a limp in her left leg.

But she was alive, and that was what was important. 

And the guards weren't dead. At least - as far as Tommy saw. Four of them were unconscious, and two of them had limped off the sands with wounds on their bodies. 

He saw the broken look on Niki's face, and knew that he had to get out of there. That  they  had to get out of here. Niki was strong, but she hadn't been schooled into death at a young age. 

"So," he said, into the nearly empty room as Kitsune - Guppy's wife - wrapped the last of the bandages around Niki's arm. "How do we do this?"

Purpled crossed his arms, his violet eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

Tommy glanced around, noting the lack of guards - because it was the end of the day, and most of them were collecting bets either won or lost; though Tommy had a feeling that most had lost. Guppy and Kitsune were in the room as well, but most had trickled back to their rooms or into the training room before tomorrow's...battle. "How do we get out of here?"

Niki's head spun around to look at him so fast. " What ?"

"We're getting out of here," he said firmly.

"We are?" Guppy asked. 

"Yes," he said. "We  are . I can't be here for another twelve years."

"They're planning on moving soon," Kitsune spoke up, in a soft voice. "I heard the guards talking about it."

"Do you think the Elementalists will make it?" Niki asked.

"What?" Purpled said with a frown.

"Oh," Tommy said. "Yeah, they're coming. Right before I was taken, I believe Scott's coven managed to pinpoint the location of the Pit. They should be here soon."

"What if they can't find it?" Niki said worriedly. "I mean, this place is pretty enclosed."

Tommy felt a nasty grin cross his face. "Then we'll make enough noise to make sure they  hear  us."

"There are barely forty of us, Tommy," Purpled said warily. "We're weary, we're kids, and we don't have anything."

He stared at Purpled for a second. "Do you have a sister?"

Purpled took a step back, defensiveness coming over his face. "What?"

"You seem familiar," he said slowly. "You're an Elementalist."

Purpled's mouth  dropped , his hand coming to the back of his neck. "I  am ?"

"Yep," Tommy said easily, noting the looks of surprise on everyone else's face. "A water Elementalist."

"But I haven't met my coven yet - or used it; there's no tattoo," Purpled said. "How do you know?"

"I can feel it," he said simply. "It's in the air around you. I'm a Siphon."

"You're a  what ?" Niki said, shocked.

"A Siphon."

"Yeah, we heard you the first time," Guppy said roughly. "But..." she paused.

"I was sent to court by the Elementalists," he said, leaning back against the wall. "For being a Siphon. After they sent a Renditioner through my mind on account of us cheating on the University finals. Which we didn't."

Purpled snorted. "I always knew my sis's complaints about that place were real."

"So you  do  have a sister."

Purpled snorted. "NO! I mean - okay, yeah, I do." He glanced around, as if anyone was listening. "I've been here for seven years."

"I'm surprised that you kept your secret for so long," Tommy said, tapping his collar meaningfully.

"Puffy told me how to reach for it. Sometimes it bugs me, but I don't reach for it. I thought it was an internal itch or something." Purpled grinned sheepishly. "I didn't actually think I was a Water Elementalist." 

"You are," Tommy said. "And Puffy's your sister?"

"Yeah. You know her?"

He nodded. 

"I love Puffy! She's so sweet!" Niki piped up excitedly. "I had no idea she was your sister."

"I wasn't even aware she had a brother, 'specially one that was missing," Tommy muttered. "Than again, I only met her like once. I went to do a scouting mission with one of her coven mates."

"Oh, Ranboo?" Niki said.

"You know him?"

She nodded. "I went to the University with him. He was two years under me. They'd just met when I was...well, you know." She waved a hand around meaningfully, wincing and clutching at her forearm, her face scrunching up in pain. "He's a great kid."

"So, you're a water Elementalist?" Guppy said, getting the conversation on track.

"I wouldn't know how to use it," Purpled said. "I'm more useful with a sword."

"No," Tommy said. "But I would know how to use it. Well - at least activate it." He hesitated. "If that's okay with you."

Purpled snorted. "As long as I don't die from it."

"You won't," Niki assured him. Tommy frowned at her. "I researched Siphons in the University. I thought they were interesting. Apparently, it only drains a part of your energy that goes towards your magic."

"But Tommy has a collar on," Kitsune pointed out.

"The collar stops Elementalist magic from working," Tommy said. "But the magic wouldn't be coming from me. It'd be coming from  him ." He pointed at Purpled meaningfully. "If you don't want to, that's okay. It's sort of invasive."

"Anything to get us out of here," Purpled said tiredly. "I'm tired of this shithole."

"I was tired of it when I was born," Tommy grumbled in agreement. "It really fucking sucks." He glanced around. "But...it's nice to see kids that understand again. Even if it is in a horrible place."

Purpled cracked a small grin. "I get what you mean. It's  awful , but the people here - they're ones you can relate to. Growing up here must've sucked."

"It did," he said. "Seeing the sunset was the greatest experience of my life."

"I can barely remember it," Guppy said wistfully. "But it's still there. I hope I'll see it again." She reached over and tugged Kitsune over, the shorter woman leaning against the taller. "The only good thing I like about this place is that I found someone I love."

"Gross," Tommy muttered, and Niki elbowed him, giggling. 

Chapter Text

It didn't go to plan.

Perhaps it was Guppy's fault. Maybe Kitsune's. Who knew. 

He blamed the Pit Owners who put two lovers against each other in the arena and expected them to kill each other. He blamed the guards that had picked them, had seen the wild looks on their faces; on the face of the girl who was like a pseudo-mother - or grandmother to those who remembered their mothers - as she was taken away.

It was usually a solemn procession. Nobody blamed the person who walked away.

But this one - this was different. They usually chose people whom were less-known to each other - fewer quarrels to go in for the kill.

Then again, times were changing. Tommy hadn't been to the Pit in four years - almost five, now. The last time he had been here, they'd separated the few born in the Pit from those that had been captured. Apparently, they'd given up on that now; content to allow the older ones to give the younger stories of the free world. To give those hope that there was more beyond the rocks and the killing.

But he hadn't planned for...this.

For Guppy and Kitsune to be handed swords and told to try to  kill  each other. To be put in front of a roaring crowd that cheered for two people in  love  - married, even; even if it wasn't officiated, it still counted - to hack at each other until one was dead.

"Tommy, don't," Niki said, catching his sleeve as he grabbed one of the swords from the training room and hefted it testingly.

"Purpled," he said, the boy in question turning towards him with half-horrified eyes. "Follow through with the plan today, okay?"

The boy gulped. "What are you going to do?"

"Follow through with the plan," he said sternly.

Purpled gulped. "Okay."

He headed towards the door, glancing over his shoulder at the confused and scared faces of the younger kids. "Oh, and keep an eye on Niki - okay?"

Purpled gave a stiff nod, and Tommy raised his chin and turned towards the two guards who guarded the door. They raised their swords at him, but he wasn't much of a talker when he was focused on killing people, and he kicked one in the chest, slashing across the other's throat. The second one was finished with a slice across the chest.

Several kids in the room screamed.

"TOMMY!" Niki shouted, and Tommy looked over his shoulder in time to see Purpled grab her, wrestling her away as she tried to run towards the door. He hesitated - before turning and sprinting down the mostly empty halls. He knew the entrance was well-guarded by dozens of guards - that wasn't his goal.

He didn't know why he was doing this. He didn't  know  why he wasn't just saving his own skin and letting both Guppy and Kitsune die.

But maybe a bit of their looks resonated within him. The two girls loved each other, and they were going to die because of it. 

He burst into the locker room at a sprint. He left the bodies of the four guards who had been guarding it - from the inside; why would they guard it from the outside; they hadn't even seen him coming - and headed directly for the door, using his shoulder to push against the heavy metal. The sounds of the crowd cheering above him were muted by the amount of stone between them, but he burst through the door into the sands and winced at the cheering - or screaming - that was happening. 

He arrived just in time to see guards start pouring out of the other doorway, that led to the guardroom, and Kitsune and Guppy standing back-to-back, a team, warily watching them. He caught Niki's gaze from the viewing room, her horrified eyes watching as his feet hit the sands.

It was odd.

He didn't know when he had become selfless. When he had started to have heroic intentions. Maybe the Elementalists were rubbing off on him, or maybe he was just stupid. Why he was making decisions that would probably get him killed - he didn't know.

It was just the right thing to do. And he hated every sinking step he had onto the sand, and he hated the decisions he made, but he ran past Guppy and Kitsune.

"What the fuck - " he heard Guppy shout, and then footsteps as they followed him in his charge against the nearly two-dozen guards.

It was a messy fight. It wasn't like anything he'd done before in the Pit. Those fights had been forced; the spilled blood not enjoyable one bit except against those guards that had hurt the kids that were his friends. 

This battle was chosen. This battle was  his . And suddenly, he understood why Techno was infatuated with his sword and the blood of his enemies.

Because killing these people who  dared  hurt his friends -  that  was something he enjoyed.

Killing those people because of what they had  done , what they were  going to do , who they  were  - that was a break from the real battles.

And...maybe that made him an awful person, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He was panting and covered in blood when he lifted his last sword from the body of the guard, and saw the shocked faces of Guppy and Kitsune; both of them also covered in blood, though significantly less so. 

"What are you doing here?" Guppy hissed. 

"The right thing," he answered simply, raising his sword with tired arms as he saw more people filter through, and he saw Niki's mouth open in a silent yell, Purpled's hand clamped over her mouth. Tommy stared towards him questioningly - and Purpled hesitated slightly, before giving an inclination of his head in silent agreement.

"You're going to die," Kitsune murmured.

"Perhaps," he replied, the three of them stepping into a triangle as more soldiers filtered through both doorways, giving them no escape. The crowd, probably thinking this was some special event, was cheering so loud Tommy got a distinct feeling that the ceiling was going to collapse. "But like I said. The Elementalists have given me stupid ideals."

Guppy threw him a maniacal grin. "I bet I could take more out than you before I die."

"Oh, it's on," he promised, feeling the smirk creep across his face, the dried blood cracking as his cheeks twisted.

"You guys are ridiculous," Kitsune sighed. 

"Maybe," he allowed. "But you gotta live before you die."

He reached out across the fifty or so feet to the glass viewing station, feeling the aura of open power around Purpled - whereas Niki's was closed - and tugged on it, bringing it to him. The violet-eyed boy stumbled in surprise catching himself against the glass, and Tommy let out a breath as he embraced the siphoning, the power flowing through his fingertips.

He'd only felt nature and air before. Water was different. Clearer. More fluid. Air was soft; easy to manipulate. Nature was tougher; more alive. Water was more... feeling . He could feel the water in the air, in the pounding of the blood in his veins, in the stalactites that dripped water that he could barely see from the ceiling. 

And in a yell of pure power, he directed it all at one squadron of guards.

Water  erupted  from unknown places from the ground in a wave of water, splashing the armored guards against the wall, some landing on their head in empty cracks that rang out against the arena.

The crowd shouted, finally realizing that something was wrong. Tommy felt a proud grin spread across his face, but knew this was far from over. 

He left Guppy's side and ran towards the downed guards, not wanting to give them a chance to stand up, Purpled's magic leaving him in a rush of energy.

And he fought until his sword arm was too heavy and there were too many of them. 

The guards were endless, and there were just too many of them. 

But he knew that his kill count was higher than Guppy's even as a sharp pain filled his head, and he blacked out, his last coherent thought the sand rushing up to meet his face. 

And how empty he felt without Tubbo's golden bond in his heart. 

"What do we do?" Purpled said.

Niki's hands were balled at her side, a fizzling ball of  anger  and fear that made her want to scream. The kids gathered around them had wide eyes; turning to her and Purpled now that Kit and Guppy were gone. "Do what Tommy said."

"But what if - "

"Guppy and Kitsune are no doubt dead," she snapped angrily, causing Purpled to jump in surprise. Niki didn't usually  snap , or raise her voice at all. "And Tommy is dying. We need to get out of here."

"What?" one of the younger kids gasped. He couldn't have been more than nine.

She nodded firmly, heading over to the closet and grabbing the swords. "I'm asking you to fight. Each and every one of you. I'm not excluding the younger children. Maybe this isn't good... but we need every person we can get."

"There are too many of them!" a pre-teen shouted from the back.

"The Elementalists are coming," she said, feeling the cold smirk twist on her face as she rubbed the smarting tattoo on her back. It was as if she hadn't met her coven yet; as if she was still in her final year at the University and was trying to find her coven mates.

"How do you know?" Purpled asked warily, catching the sword as she tossed it at him.

"I can feel it," she said simply. "I can feel  them . They're coming. And they're going to need all the help they can get."

"We can die," a boy said. He looked a bit younger than Tommy; maybe around fourteen. 

"Some of us will," she agreed, and a sigh of fear was heard throughout the room. "Guards are standing outside that very door. We are in here, together, at night, when we should be alone in our cells - or together, if you have a cellmate - because of the choices that Tommy, Guppy, and Kit made. Our opportunity to strike is  now . We have the weapons, we have the surprise." She felt a strike of fear rush through her at the thought of killing more people, but quickly pushed that aside. "I would rather die fighting than sit here in this room waiting to be  rescued . I would rather go down in battle trying to fight for my freedom. All our lives we have been forced to fight each other for  sport , solve puzzles for  sport  - all for the sake of a stupid game." She raised her chin high as she stared down at the faces of the kids who had been turned into soldiers.

"Let's give them another damned game to play."

He was alive - or was he?

He didn't know. Everything hurt. He hoped he wasn't in hell for everything he had done - he had at least hoped to joke with Satan or something. Maybe ask for advice on women.

No, he was sure he was alive.

His voice was faded - as if it wasn't  him  that was screaming, as if he couldn't feel the pain in his back and arms and neck and face - and, well  everywhere .

As if it wasn't him being tortured.

He curled up in the darkness of his own mind and reached for the splinters of the bond to Tubbo desperately hoping to push them back together - for his brother, for  anything .

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

A blinding flash of pain in his back, and a hissed question.

"How does it feel to scream, Siphon?"

Screaming never felt good. He wanted to fade away. They wouldn't let him.

He curled up in the back of his mind with tears pouring down his face and a deep, darkening pounding in his head that didn't seem to  stop .

Right now... right now he was jealous that he couldn't be Guppy and Kitsune.

That he couldn't be dead. 

Chapter Text

Techno panted as he cut through the other throat of a faceless guard, the blood spraying into the air, some of it landing on his face. He wiped it aside without a second thought, falling back as he slashed a soldier that would have taken out Wilbur. The man in question gave him a shaky nod of thanks, falling back as well.

They had found the place. But there were too many of them. Too many people to kill, too many people Techno wanted to  rip  apart. Any one of them could have killed Tommy. Any  one  of them could have hurt the boy that was basically a little brother to him.

Best not to think about that. Next to him, he saw Tubbo, cold-faced and bearing that unbalanced of him that he wielded with unnatural ease; cutting through guards as easily as he had sat with Phil in the garden and used a knife to cut through the stems of flowers.

His heart panged at the missing golden strand. Sometimes he felt the glimmers of splinters there, and tried to touch them, but they always faded when he got near. 

He was making stupid wishes.

They had seven full covens there - and two uncompleted ones; Phil's and a fire Elementalists' named Punz.

Even so, there just were too many guards. Techno had half a feeling that they were about to retreat as he used his free hand to burn the sword arm of a guard off, the man in question letting out a loud and horrifying scream before a blonde-haired named False pounced on him and cut his head clean off, before nimbly dashing away.

He jumped over a man that was being slowly suffocated with vines, grimacing at the horrible death that would soon happen. He ducked as a man flew over him with a fierce blast of air from - Phil? George? Sparklez? - he didn't know anymore. He watched with fierce resilience as the man's head cracked against the stone of the mouth of the cave they were trying to overtake.

As much as he hated to, he was about to call for a retreat - as much as this was important, he didn't want anyone to die on behalf of  his  revenge - when the soldiers seemed to split in half, suddenly diverting their flow towards a second force that Techno couldn't yet see.

His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he returned to the bloodbath with an intense concentration, cutting them down until the mud under his boots was mostly blood and he would  never  get the stains out of his white tunic. 

That was, until he came face-to-face with what  had  to be a nine-year-old with a scowl on her face, covered with blood and wielding a sword that was massive in her hands; yet her shakey arms lifted it and swung at the nearest soldier. Techno stepped by her and stabbed him in the gut for her.

"Thanks," she said, in a high-pitched voice. "You an Elementalist?"

He nodded wordlessly.

Was this how young they were? How  young  the Pit Owners had taken them? Had forced children to be? A sickening rage filled him at the tiny scars scattered across her face and visible below the bloodstained and dirty tunic. 

"They said you'd come," she said, a bit of reverence in her tone. "They said you'd rescue us."

"Thanks for the help, kid," he found himself saying.

She gave a nasty grin that reminded him of Tommy. "No problem."

It was then that Techno realized that the battle was over - at least, this specific one. That the only thing that stood between them and the mouth of the cave was about four-dozen kids and pre-teen and teenagers all bearing the same swords that Tommy and Tubbo had fought with on the roof.

He stared at them with bated breath, and they stared at the Elementalists warily, clutching their bloodstained swords.

He wondered how many each of them had killed. If even the youngest, a tiny boy who looked around six or seven and had a small knife in his hand, had dreams of murder and death and darkness.

"What the fuck...?" Phil murmured from his right side, as the two parties eyed each other warily, each wondering if the other would attack.

" Stop ," a female voice intoned, and the crowd of children split to reveal a short black-haired woman with piercing eyes and an equally-bloodstained sword. 

His breath caught.

Niki.

"They're here to rescue us," she said in a lower voice, to the kids that surrounded her. "You're safe now."

They listened to her.

" Niki? " Wilbur whispered, and Niki seemed to collapse in his presence as she rushed across the field, the children behind her holding their ground, still weary. 

"NIKI!" Eret shouted, voice full of joy, and he and Fundy crashed into her even as she clung to Wilbur, the three of them holding the woman. Scott ran over as well, but seemed to not want join the hugging the pile. 

After a few seconds, Niki pulled away, and Techno noted with anger the small metal band around her throat that had blood leaking from it. "You gotta get them," she said with a small break in her voice. "You gotta - gotta rescue them."

"There's  more ?" Wilbur said, glancing at the crowd of paranoid kids. 

"Two," she said, seeming to waver on her feet. Her eyes focused on a woman that stood beside Sparklez. "Your - your brother, Puffy. Purpled. He's still down there - he went  back  to try to get Tommy - "

Eret caught her as she collapsed, but all that Techno heard was  Tommy Tommy Tommy , because if  she  was alive - why couldn't Tommy?

He was already running, Tubbo fast at his heels, and he didn't need to  look  to see Phil and Wilbur and Puffy, whose brother was apparently down there. The children parted like a wave, some of them clutching their weapons - as if he would attack them. 

Don't be dead.

Not again.

Hope rose and fell like mountains and valleys. 

Tommy could be alive.

Tommy could be dead.

He should have been faster.

He felt sick at the amount of blood that stained the walls. At the bodies the children had fought through to get to the mouth of the cave. At the sheer amount of  pain  that he could feel in the air; despite not being able to feel air at all. 

Bad things had happened here. 

He heard fighting in the distance.

Ran down the hallways towards it. Backtracked, once. 

Burst into a room where a purple-eyed, dirty-blonde-haired boy was fighting a group of three soldiers, standing in front of a boy that lay on a table. He seemed to be badly injured, clutching his chest.

Two girls chained together on the floor, their faces white - cold and blue. Dead. He couldn't feel body heat radiating from them. He didn't want to know why they were dead. How they had died. He saw their hands intertwined and felt a bit better that they had not died alone.

The other thing in the room bothered him more. 

A boy, unmoving. A boy covered in blood with blonde hair and blue eyes that he  knew  were behind those closed lids.

Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy -

"PURPLED!" Puffy shouted. The boy in question turned towards her warily, and Techno was already moving - but not fast enough as one of the soldiers raised his sword to strike the Purpled boy down.

Not fast enough, because a sword whirled through the air, and Techno watched with wide eyes as a thrown sword buried itself in the back of the guard, and he fell with a sickening  crunch  to the blood-covered floor. He was already in motion, killing the second, and the girl called Puffy murdering the third, cool relief filling him as he watched the man breathe his final breath. 

Phil and Wilbur were already by Tommy's side, and Techno felt useless in that situation as he caught Purpled before the boy could fall onto the floor. Puffy grabbed him, and Techno let her as the older sister breathed a sigh of relief at the steady rise and fall of Purpled's chest.

As for Tommy...he was breathing.

And at that moment, that was all that mattered. 

Tubbo said as much as he let out a joyous cry of relief, tears starting to pour down his face as he gripped the hand of his unconscious brother.

Techno felt sick just looking at him. There was  something  around his neck, something worse than Niki's because it seemed to be digging into the skin, and there were small slices and pokes and even a horrible looking  burn  on his back in the shape of two crossed swords. There was something on his chest that seemed - that was  new , a horrible brand that seemed to overlay - wait, had the white marks barely visible below the new red and angry searing mark always been there? Surely not - surely Tommy would have said something.  Tubbo  would have said something. 

But he breathed, and that was all that was important.

Wordlessly, he slid off his cape and handed it to Phil, who took it and held it out as Wilbur lifted the boy into his father's arms.

His chest rose and fell, but it was so  light , as if it would fade at any moment. No wonder Tubbo's hand clung to that of his brother, no wonder he looked as if he would never let go, and Phil let him -  let  him, because Tommy was alive, but looked as if he would die.

Techno glanced back at the table, nauseated by the blood. 

By what they had done to this place.

He wanted to tear this place apart until there was nothing left but scorch marks and cinders.

"Calm," Wilbur murmured, and he was suddenly glad for the lack of the cape, because water hit him in the face with a slap, and he realized that he had been smoking from his pores. He threw a thankful look at the taller boy, who nodded in response and trailed off after Tubbo and Phil.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Puffy whispered, as Techno held open the door so she could carry Purpled out. 

"I don't know," was his honest answer. "How's your brother?"

"Bad," Puffy said truthfully. "But he'll live. I know that much."

"I didn't even know you had a brother."

"I don't talk about him," she said. "I didn't even know he was alive."

"We share that in common," he said with a humorless laugh, worry curdling in his gut.

"What?" she said, tilting her head in interest. 

"A brother who was missing," he said, watching as Phil and Tubbo rounded the corner, Wilbur glancing at him and Puffy before hurrying after them. He wanted to rush after his family, but he knew that Puffy couldn't protect herself  and  carry her brother. Not easily. And he wouldn't be able to do anything if he followed them.

Here, he could enact his rage on those still breathing. 

"A brother who you thought was dead," he finished with a small sigh.

Puffy stared at him for a second, before hefting Purpled in her hands. Techno had no intention of taking him - he knew she could handle it, and she was just reminding herself that her brother was alive and in her hands. His fingers clenched tighter around his sword, wishing that he could hold Tommy in his arms and never let go. 

But he would be useless. Phil had to get Tommy to the healers before he faded together. Briefly, he reached into his mind and touched the shattered splinters of the coven bond he'd had with Tommy before it had snapped.

"Hey, Techno," Puffy said, in her calm voice. He turned towards her briefly, surveying the break in the corridor for anybody he could paint the walls red with. "Everything is going to be okay."

Maybe.

Maybe .

He could only hope.

Chapter Text

He sat in that dark space in his head and let the golden stars shine light onto his bloody hands. He ignored the voices outside his head, because he  wanted to stay here , he wasn't going to leave.

He didn't know how he wasn't dead.

Or... if  he was dead. It didn't feel like it - that doorway that led him to his body summoned him from time-to-time, but he  wasn't sure , and that was what terrified him.

The golden stars shimmered in response, and Tommy looked up at them. Sometimes they didn't look like stars at all; merely shards of shattered golden glowing glass. It made sense that they weren't stars - this was his own headspace.

But if they weren't stars, what were they? Little slivers of golden light?

Why were they here?

"You need to wake up, Toms."

He vaguely recognized that voice. It was the voice of an E̶l̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶a̶l̶i̶s̶t̶ hypocrite that had pushed him out of the house that his - that someone had told him to stay at, the voice that had been the one with a spoon in his hand and a scowl on his face as he tried to shove what was probably poison down this throat.

"You're going to be okay, Tommy."

That was the voice of someone that he knew as well; just couldn't exactly place it. That was the voice of someone that had made him sit at a table in front of other faceless E̶l̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶a̶l̶i̶s̶t̶s̶ pretenders and admit what he'd had to do. This was the person who had looked on to whatever happened with a neutral expression and a confident voice that surpassed even the most dangerous of situations. 

"Son, are you still there?"

That was the person who had sat by and done  nothing  as his mother had been killed. That was the person who had done  nothing  for him and his brother. That was the E̶l̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶a̶l̶i̶s̶t̶ father who had let all of this happened to them. That was the coven leader that had let him get taken, who had  let  the Renditioner tear through his mind because he didn't care. 

"Tommy, everything is going to be alright."

That was  him . That was the - the person who had...who...

That was the brown-haired boy who had smiled at him in the morning, even when blood had covered both of their faces and resignation had hung heavy in their hearts. That was the boy who had stuck by his side through thick or thin; the boy whom he'd had countless arguments and conversations about what the outside world could look like when he was younger. That was the boy who had put out his hand and picked up Tommy every time he had fallen. That was the person who was the greatest friend, and family member, that Tommy would ever know, because he  understood .

"Tommy, I'm sorry."

That was the tall man who had played music in his room when he had thought nobody was watching. Who, when Tommy had fallen asleep on him entirely by accident, had run his fingers through his blonde hair until he went back to sleep. That was the man with whom his friendship had started off shoddily and had developed into one of that a brotherly system. Annoyance, love, foolishness - all were a part of them, together, That was the man who had sat on the roof with him and told him of the girl named Niki with a wistful look in his misty brown eyes. That was the man who had sat in the garden and watered the plants when he thought nobody was looking, who had been so protective of his family that he had tried to push the new members away before accepting them. That was his older brother.

"Tommy, you're the strongest person I've ever met."

That was the pink-haired man with a fierceness that rivaled all the storms above; that was the person who bore the stiffness of a hardened soldier - that was the person that had tried to teach Tommy how to use a sword; who had practiced with him to try to teach him new forms. That was the person who had been there when Tommy had confessed to the things he had done; who had made everything better through gentle explanations and wise words. That was the man who had heard him cry and not thought worse of him, whom he had looked up to for being one of the best fighters he had ever known or seen. That was his eldest brother.

"Tommy, I am so sorry that I wasn't quick enough."

That was the blonde-haired man with kind eyes and a quirk for a smile and a bucket hat that looked half-torn to shit. The one with the pictures on the wall with his mother, the one with the caring hand and a protective glare that managed to rival even his eldest brother's and get his older brother to shut up. That was the one who had loved him from the moment he'd stepped into their little family; the one who had cared when the others had been wary. That was his father.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

And that was Tubbo.

It was hard to explain further. That was  Tubbo , that was the polar opposite boy to him - in most ways 'cept a few. That was that sweet, short, brown-haired boy with a heart of gold and a smile brighter than the sun. That was the boy who had saved his life many times over - and to, he had returned the favor. That was the boy who he'd talked with in the worst of times, thinking about what certain colors looked like, or that endless discussion on whether pandas actually existed.

That was his twin brother. 

Tommy raised his head from his lap, shutting out all the voices, and reached up, plucking one of the shards from the sky. It didn't hurt; merely glowed between his fingers. He stared at it in bewilderment, and then reached up and took another one, bringing them collectively. They snapped together like magnets, the pieces flashing a brilliant white before becoming a thin line of golden light.

Tubbo,  his mind whispered.  Tubbo, Tubbo...

And he blinked, and he was lying on his stomach, the side of his face smashed into a pillow, and  ow , his back fucking  hurt , but that wasn't what was important. 

He was back in his bed, and he knew that he was in his room -  is this real? Is this a dream? -  and lying on a couch that seemed to have been dragged in, or magically conjured, Tubbo was hanging off, looking as if he was about to fall off. There were crease lines on his forehead, as if he were worried, and as Tommy sat up -  carefully, carefully  - he realized that Tubbo was probably worried about him.

He glanced out the window, looking for the time, and saw the edge of the rising sun. He looked at his hands, and saw the bandages that covered his palms and hitting his forearms, before pausing. His left shoulderblade wouldn't stop hurting, and he had a good feeling it had to do with that fever dream that hadn't been so much of a fever dream. 

A small tear was shed for Guppy and Kitsune, who had died because of their actions. He wiped it away, wincing at the tug on his open wounds. 

No, he would cry for those later.

Because if he was here - if he was  alive , that means that his family had rescued him. It meant that the Pit was gone. It meant that there would be no more battles, no more children trapped in that place.

No more puzzles.

No more games.

No more  running .

Freedom, at last.

"YES!" he screamed into the suffering silence, his throat sending a line of pain down his spine. It was raspy and sore, but it was  his .

Tubbo fell off the couch at his victorious cry, and Tommy threw aside his covers, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Tears of pure  joy  and hilarity ran down his face as Tubbo scrambled to his feet, reaching for a sword that wasn't there.

"Tommy!" Tubbo said, jumping on the bed and nearly crashing into Tommy, before pausing and maintaining his distance. 

The door  crashed  open, and Techno was standing there with his sword out, scanning the room for any sign of intruders, before narrowing in on Tommy and breathing a sigh of relief.

"You're awake."

"Of course I am," he scoffed. "Dying to  that ? That would  not  look good on my gravestone.  Here lies TommyInnit, who died trying to save two women  - I am not a simp, Technoblade! -  and failed to do that too because -  "

"Oh, shut up," Techno grumbled, a small smile alighting his usually stoic face as he stepped further, allowing both Wilbur and Phil to rush in as well. 

"That's rude," he said with a sniff.

"You're awfully...in a good mood," Wilbur said cautiously. "Phil, are you sure that you didn't give him drugs?"

"What - no, I didn't fucking give him drugs!"

"Of course I'm in a good mood," he said. 

Silence.

"Care to explain?" Techno asked.

"Because..." he said, gesturing with his arm and wincing a bit at the tugging pain. Tubbo put a hand on an unbandaged part of his arm, and he shoved playfully at his brother's side. "Because... it's over now."

"What?" Wilbur said with a frown. "You're still hurt, Tommy - "

"Not that," he said. "I've dealt with that before, and I only had Tubbo then. There's like...well, a lot of you now." He gave a small snort. "It's just... if I'm here, it means you found the Pit. If I'm  safe , then you got there in time."

"We did," Phil said, a small smile crossing his face. "And your group of children was there to meet us."

"And save our asses," Wilbur muttered. Techno aimed a kick at his ankle. 

"They're not mine," he said, confused.

"I know," Phil said. "But it was you who had that plan, and you and Niki and Purpled that led them out."

"I didn't do anything."

"Bullshit," Wilbur said. "I talked to Niki. You had hope from the beginning that you would get out of there."

"Because I knew you would find me," he said. "I knew you were looking."

"We thought you were dead, Tommy," Phil said.

"I knew that too," he said. "But I also knew that you were looking for revenge."

"Speaking of which, what happened with the coven bonds?" Wilbur asked. 

"I snapped them," he said firmly, and horrified looks entered his coven mate's eyes.  Were they even his coven mates anymore ? "They had a way of hurting you through the bonds. So I snapped them. And no, I don't regret it. I miss them, though."

"Do you feel anything?" Wilbur asked, touching the back of his neck meaningfully.

"Nothing," he said truthfully. "I don't think I'm part of your coven anymore." 

"That's fine," Phil said firmly. "But you are in our heart anyway. You're also my  son , Tommy. I would never throw you out."

His head jerked up to look at Phil. "How did you - "

"How did I know what you were thinking?" Phil said with a patient smile. "Because you've thought it with every glass you've broke, every small mistake you've made. Once you wanted to leave, and then you didn't. And then you were just afraid to be kicked out."

He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "So, what happened?"

Techno glanced at Phil and Wilbur, who gave a small nod.

And then he talked.

About the battle, about Niki, who had met them at the mouth of the cave covered in blood and bearing her stony expression and a sword. About finding Purpled and Tommy - about coming  home .

Home.

This was home.

Chapter Text

"So," he asked finally, shoving his hands into his pockets and shivering in the late autumn air. "How is it?"

"Bearable," Niki answered, sitting at the edge of the roof looking at the sunset with him. "But good." She glanced at Tommy. "I can feel it, you know. The coven bond."

"I know," he said. "I feel it too." The mark on his chest seemed to echo in some sort of maniacal laughter, and he ignored it. It was easier to ignore nowadays. 

She started, glancing back at the house and at the laughter that rang from the open living room - from the family - or preferably, cross-coven family - game night that was currently going on. "Do they know?"

"No," he said simply. "They will, though." He closed his eyes and brought himself back into that dark room, staring for a moment at the four nearly-completed pieces of shattered golden light, woven together like a wool blanket and painstakingly small. "They'll feel it." He opened his eyes back into the night air.

"Mine don't either," Niki confessed. "I thought - " she cut herself off.

"That they wouldn't want you back?" he said. "That they found someone else?"

Niki gave a dry laugh. "I suppose."

"Well, I would say you should know better, but that place messes with people's heads," he said truthfully. "How's Purpled?" Puffy's brother had found part of his coven in two Elementalists that had fought at the battle, and though the girl was overprotective - he knew that she was happy that Purpled was happy.

"He's supposed to take his scouting test tomorrow," she said. "Ponk and Punz have insisted on going with him, though. The University thought best not to interfere."

"They would," Tommy snorted. "At least they've stopped giving me sidelong looks whenever I step in there."

"The kids miss you," Niki said.

He sighed. "I'll visit them tomorrow." Some of the kids from the Pit had displayed Elementalist powers, whereas others were merely human. "Have you found places for them?"

"For the younger ones," Niki said. "We got a lot of volunteers from parents who had lost kids to the Pit before." She smiled happily. "Some of them even have their biological children back."

"And the other ones?" he said nervously. He didn't want them to feel abandoned.

Niki laughed. "Tommy, you sound so grown up."

He shoved her. "I  am  grown up."

"I'm older than you."

"Yeah, and you're old!"

"Don't let Phil hear you say that," she warned. "The older ones...well, you know them. I had a few people from something called the  Bread Cult  come up and  select  a few. Do you know them?"

He smiled into the cool air. "Kash and Wise are annoying, but they're trustable with kids, for the most part. I think they'll do fine. What about the others?"

"Well," Niki said. "Some of them aren't so well. They deal better together."

"Don't take them apart," he said firmly. "They have to heal together."

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I wasn't even thinking about it." She stood up, brushing her dress off. "Come on inside, Tommy. It's cold. And I'm pretty sure they miss you."

He snorted. "I fucking  suck  at Monopoly. That's just about luck, man. There's like literally no skill involved."

"They chose that game on purpose."

"I know."

Niki gave him one last smile before vanishing back the way she'd come, leaving Tommy to sit in on the metal roof, basking in the last remnants of the sun.

He had healed. After all that, he had healed. Sure, there was now a permanent brand on his back. But he was going to cover that up with some tattoos Phil knew someone that could draw. Grian had offered, but after Mumbo's quick shake of the head, Tommy had declined. Tubbo was thinking of getting a matching one, but with bees - for his chest, where the mark they'd gotten when they were little remained as a white scar. Tommy's wasn't healed; the old brand slightly underlapping the new one. But he would get his covered up too. 

Not so he could forget. But so that he could learn to forgive. 

Sure, he was hurt. And he woke up screaming, but his family was always there. His brothers, his  father , were always there, and none of them cared when he came in sobbing, wanting to feel some warmth in the depths of the cold. None of them would judge him when he'd get nauseous from flashbacks and wouldn't eat, though they tried to force him to eat as much as possible.

It wasn't normal. Then again, he was TommyInnit.

Nothing would ever be normal. 

But...there would be no more running. No looking over the shoulder, no more praying that they wouldn't be dragged back to the Pit.

Because Dream and Techno had gone back and utterly destroyed it. Tommy had wanted to come as well, but unfortunately, he hadn't been able to walk. George had been able to remove the collars around his and Niki's neck, leaving only scars and scabs in its place.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't  meant  to be perfect. 

"Hey, nerd, whatcha doin' out here?"

He turned his head as Techno sat down heavily on the roof next to him, his red cloak falling neatly over Tommy's shoulders as well as his - though, accidental or on purpose, he wasn't sure and didn't care. He tried to snuggle up closer, as well as he could without notifying Techno. 

"Watching the sunset," he said truthfully.

"You're calm," Techno noted.

"Yeah?" he shot back. "So what?"

"That's not like you. Being calm."

"You should try it sometime," he teased.

"I  am  calm, nerd. Did you see how easily I knocked you down?"

"That wasn't  my  fault; the stick got in the way! I could easily beat you next time - "

"Doubtful," came Wilbur's words as the taller man sat down on Tommy's other side. 

"Shut up, I seem to remember beating  your  ass today," he shot back.

"Kid has a point," Phil said.

"Why the fuck are you all here?"

"The same reason you are," Tubbo said innocently, putting his hands on Tommy's shoulder. "Watching the sunset."

"Is George going to say the same thing?" he said, glancing back towards the window and half-expecting the brown-haired man to come clambering out.

"George is colorblind...so no," Tubbo said. 

He sighed. "You guys are stupid. Ruining my peace."

"There's never peace with you around," Wilbur snorted. 

He punched the taller boy in the arm.

"Phil! He hit me!"

"It was self-defense."

"Sorry, Wil, I'm taking Tommy's side," Phil said. "You insulted him."

"You  always  take his side," Wilbur complained, but there was no real heat behind his words.

"I  do not ; remember this morning when I refused to allow him to add his gummy bears to the pancakes?"

"That was for our health, not because you picked a side," Techno said.

"Gummy bears are good!" Tommy said, throwing up his hands and noticing the tiny twinge of pain that remained. 

"Not on  pancakes ," Tubbo said.

He flicked the boy on the arm, Tubbo letting out a small yelp of surprise. "Pick a side, bitch."

"I did pick a side."

"Not the right one."

There was silence for another moment, and Tommy made the split-second decision. 

"Want to see something?"

"Sure," Phil said. 

"Will it kill us?" Wilbur said immediately.

"Is it deadly?" Techno said.

"No," he snorted. "It's  nice . You'll like it."

"Tommy,  nice ?" Wilbur teased. "Now there are two words that don't go in the same sentence."

"Shut it, bitch," he muttered, closing his eyes and concentrating on the four small pieces of rope that lay glowing in a part of his head. They were cracked and damaged - but they weren't shattered anymore, and that was important. His head-self lifted them, one by one throwing one of the ends into the sky. It seemed to stretch an infinite distance - until Tubbo's breath hitched and Tommy could  feel  him there again, full of love and affection.

"Tommy - "

Three more times, he did that. Three more times, they connected. They weren't the same, not like they were before - they had cracks and tears, but they were  there , and he could feel them.

"Sorry," he said into the silence. "If you didn't want it. I should have asked."

Tubbo suddenly tackled him into a warm hug that seemed to strengthen the glowing bond.

"Tommy," the boy said earnestly. "I love it. I missed it."

His twin brother.

"Damn," Techno said after a moment. "I have to feel emotions again?" But there was another moment, and Tommy felt another hug surround him, larger than Tubbo's could be.

"Knew you had it in you, Toms," Wilbur said gleefully, rubbing Tommy's hair.

"Proud of you, son," Phil whispered, and Tommy opened his eyes, noting the tear stains that ran down his father's cheek.

"Love you too, Dad," he whispered, and the surprise that lit up on Phil's face was one of the greatest feelings in the world, one he captured and hid in his head to take out on the hard days - just to remember.

He was  home .

Forever.

The End