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0
Tommy has been through a lot, he’ll admit that. He’d practically been raised by his older brother, abandoned by the other along with his father. He’d watched the only family he had left crumble in a ravine while someone, who he may have once considered an idol, tried to hold the pieces together only to lose them. He’d fought wars, celebrated with his best friend and then watched as everything he worked for was blown to smithereens. Watched as his brother, the only brother he truly believed cared for him, begged their father to kill him. Watched as his best friend said goodbye with cold eyes as he was dragged away from that same explosion-ridden town. Watched as Dream carelessly shoved his possessions in a hole and set them off in an explosion.
No one was coming. Dream said so, they didn’t want him. Didn’t want to deal with the broken pieces of a boy who may have once fought, tooth and nail to survive. Who did fight tooth and nail to survive. Nobody wanted him, only Dream.
Dream, who was kind enough to spend his valuable time with Tommy. Dream, who never left Tommy alone, besides the days-long absences (he’s busy, that small voice rings out). Dream who laughed with him and taught him to be better. Dream who graciously let Tommy keep nothing but the clothes on his back and the small rickety bed he slept on. Dream who destroyed every sliver of Tommy he had left. Dream who hurt and bit and burned him. Dream who whispered to him Tommy, I’m all you have left.
But Dream wasn’t who he wanted. He wanted Wilbur and his songs. The way he’d crawl into Tommy’s too-small bed overnight when Tommy had a nightmare. The way Wilbur combed through his hair and taught him how to braid. The way Wilbur would sit and strum at a guitar that Tommy had accidentally chipped and painted on. The way Wilbur only loved it that much more because of Tommy’s little additions.
He wanted Tubbo and his bees. The way Tubbo would butt his head affectionately, with complaints of goat instincts. The way Tubbo smiled mischievously whenever he and Tommy schemed. The way Tubbo had whispered to him late one night, It’s us against the world, big man.
He wanted Phil and Techno, but he also didn’t. They left him, broke him and then expected the pieces to just be fixed when they came back. He wanted that safe security of family they gave, not the way Techno shouted, You wanna be a hero Tommy? Then die like one. Not the way Phil shicked a sword through his brother’s stomach and disappeared.
(He left. Just stabbed Wilbur and fucking left. He always does, doesn’t he?)
Tommy hated exile. It was cold and damp. Every day he had to listen to Dream spout shit he’s already repeated thousands of times.
The only thing about exile that Tommy really appreciated was the little run-down shrine he’d found.
It was in the early days. After Mexican Dream and Mamacita had disappeared, and before he’d given up hope of ever going back to L’Manburg. The trees to the south felt so comforting, and somehow it led to a midnight exploration when his thoughts were too full of wanderlust to let him sleep.
The trees parted into a clearing, covered in moss and flowers sprouting from the bark. The shrine sat in the middle. Not big enough to walk into but enough to stand under and get out of the way of the sun's rays.
There were little carvings on the walls - images of apples and figures using magic. The language of the enchanting tables were written in paragraphs. The spruce roof was rotting and looking dangerously close to falling away and crushing him. Stone bricks were cracked with vines and eroded with time. All in all, it was fucked up and looked like no one had touched it in years.
A shrine for a god left forgotten to the earth.
Tommy decided to fix it up.
It was an easy decision really. He was bored and his lady Prime had all but abandoned him. It was hard, considering he was supposed to be in exile and Dream did his daily to weekly check-ins. It took a lot of time but seeing the shrine restored to its former glory did wonders for his morale.
However, with the shrine slowly being restored, so did the gods that came with it.
~~
1
The lava pops distantly and Tommy hears the faint chir of the nether portal.
He’s done this before, he recalls distantly. Dream had saved him, then. But, Dream isn't here now. He was out doing things that kept him busy. Distantly, Tommy feels glad he’s gone, but then there’s this immediate sense of of fucking course he’s busy, you bother him so much.
There’s a new sound now, soft humming and wind blowing, but Tommy doesn’t notice. Only notices the way that the lava below seems to call to him. Seems to beg him to take that final step. So he does. Something roars in his ears as he takes that step, propelling himself towards the heat. He tells himself that it’s worth it. That it’s the right thing to do, removing himself so no one has to deal with him. He ignores the seed of no please don’t, I don’t wanna die.
Then, as he suspends on the little dangle of too far and not far enough, someone speaks.
“I don’t really recommend that, bud.”
Tommy stumbles back onto the wood platform. The impact hurts, shakes everything in his core and the small seed grows till he’s filled with relief.
His head snaps towards the voice only to see a man standing on the netherrack. His clothes look foreign, a light blue shirt with rolled sleeves and sashes of pink with intricate designs. One arm is wrapped in gauze and his shirt is tucked into black corsair pants. Leather boots tap on the ground and gold buttons shimmer on his top. He has pointed ears and brown hair that fades into a light pink at the end. Blue and pink dots speckle his ears and cheeks.
The man looks ethereal, out of place, and concerned all at once. Tommy can only gape.
“Are you okay?” The man asks after a moment. Tommy’s jaw clicks shut.
“I- What- Who are you?” Is all he can manage. The man's brow furrows, confused.
“I guess it has been a long time.” He mutters, and it confuses Tommy. “My name is Condi, god of the Nether and End dimensions.” His voice carries across the netherrack, and echoes against the walls.
“You're a god?” Tommy asks, confused. Why had a god stopped him from jumping? Did he not want Tommy to taint his lakes of lava? Condi gives a small smile before stepping forwards. Tommy scrambles back onto his bridge, the heat of the lava singing his back. This makes Condi pause and he looks at the lake behind Tommy with trepidation.
“Let’s back away from the ledge, it would do us no good for our priest to die now.” Condi offers a hand. Tommy freezes, the words sinking in.
“Our priest?” Tommy questions, staring into brown eyes that seem to glow. Condi nods.
“You’re the one that fixed the shrine, right?” He asks, head tilting. Tommy nods, throat going dry as he reaches his hand out towards the god.
“I-I didn’t think-” Tommy trails off as Condi lifts him up off the ground and leads him towards the safety of the netherrack path.
“Didn’t think what?” Condi hums, letting go of Tommy’s hands and brushing stray netherrack dust off his blue shirt.
“That it was for an actual god,” Tommy whispers, a little stunned at the situation. He half thinks he did fall and this is the afterlife. Maybe he didn’t wake up this morning and this is all a dream.
Condi scoffs. “No shrine is empty. And I’m not the only god that shrine is for.” The god shrugs and starts to walk. Tommy stumbles to follow, mind jumbled and hands shaking.
“There’s more?” He asks, fear sinking into his skin and lighting it aflame. Condi hums an affirmative, head glancing across the netherrack- looking for something.
“Four of us. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long for someone to find that dingy ol’ thing.” His hand brushes along the wall and Tommy sees the netherrack almost look a little livelier.
“But what does it mean? Our priest?” Tommy asks, a little desperate. Condi glances at him with raised eyebrows and after a moment of quiet staring seems to realize something.
“Oh! It’s nothing bad. Usually, the first follower becomes the priest. I promise we wish you no ill will.” Condi states, hands raising placatingly. This does nothing for Tommy’s worries, however.
“First follower? What is-” Tommy huffs, fear fading to let his annoyance shine through. The god is answering none of his questions.
Tommy didn’t fix up the old shrine to be the priest to some gods he didn’t even know existed. It was a fun little side project, and now he had four gods breathing down his neck?
Condi stops in his tracks and gently grabs Tommy by the elbows. “Calm down, please. The guys would kill me if I freaked you out too much.” And he’s right, Tommy realizes. These are gods he’s messing with. Literal embodiments of the things he sees every day. If he makes one wrong move there’s no telling what they could do to him.
The god seems to notice his increasing panic and sighs heavily. “Listen, kid. I’m going to lead you back to your nether portal and then you’re going to get some sleep. I’m just stressing you out the more I talk. It might be better for someone else to explain this to you.” Condi looks over his shoulder and Tommy notices his nether portal. The structure seems to frame the god in front of him and Tommy shrinks into himself.
Condi lets go of him and steps up to the portal. “Sorry this first meeting was bad, I hope the next time we speak I don’t nearly cause you to have a panic attack.” The god says this with such nonchalance that it forces a laugh out of Tommy.
“Yeah, big man. Sorry.” Tommy whispers as he wipes the sweat from his brow. He notices, a little late, but the god has no evidence of the heat affecting him at all. Tommy walks through the obsidian frame and watches as Condi waves him goodbye from his place on the netherrack.
On the other side, with green grass and blue skies, Tommy sinks into the dirt and promptly asks himself-
“What the fuck?”
~~
2
There isn’t a good sufficient source of food in Logstedshire. Tommy just eats whatever he can find really.
It’s not for a lack of trying! Tommy has tried to make a farm, but either an animal crushes his crops or Dream comes by and blows it up. It’s tiring trying to make plots and hoe out ground all the time, so Tommy just stopped at one point. There wasn’t much land anymore to do anything like that. He does however have some berry bushes growing in throngs around the little shrine in the woods.
It’s been a week since the nether incident, and Tommy half refuses to believe it ever happened while the other half can’t stop pouring over every moment of the interaction. Condi was so vibrant against the harsh red of the nether. It’s hard to not believe he was actually there. Tommy just hopes that he doesn’t encounter the other gods from the shrine.
Unfortunately, the world likes to shit on him like some overgrown bird. Which means that exactly one week after meeting Condi, another one barges into his tent.
The day started out fine! Nothing out of the ordinary at all, until Dream showed up with his usual round of verbal fisticuffs already pouring out of him as soon as he stepped out of the nether. It’s not Tommy’s fuckin’ fault that the nether seems to have some sort of vendetta against Dream all of a sudden. Well, it might be, but like hell is Tommy going to tell Dream about the shrine in the woods. He’d rather have the gods kill him.
(Part of him wants to find the stupid god and thank him for the new scorch mark painting that ugly ass hoodie Dream always wears.)
Dream however is very bad at accepting shit and has to raid Tommy’s inventory again. It’s unfortunate that Tommy had all of his food on him at the time. So now, he sits in his shitty little tent and no food to his name, seeing as he had picked those damn berry bushes clean today.
With the ever growing lack of food however, Tommy has recently had to get used to constant hunger pains and fatigue. This wave of clawing emptiness somehow feels worse than the rest. It doesn’t help that his rickety old bed is lumpy and quite possibly just at the stage of falling apart.
This is when the second god of the shrine shows up.
Currently, the motherfucker is standing in the doorway, one arm up and holding the curtain apart by his forearm. He looks concerned, with piercing green eyes settled behind a dorky pair of glasses. Dirty-blonde hair drifts on his forehead and rests on furrowed brows. He wears a brown vest pulled over a white poet's shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. A gold chain falls from one of the buttons and is tucked into a side pocket of the vest. Straps of leather hold up a green armour piece to his shoulder. Brown pants cling to his legs and his black boots are scuffed with mud and grass.
Tommy gets the same feeling that he got from Condi. Ethereal and out of place.
“Is this a bad time?” He asks, voice reverberating slightly with whispers of enchantment. This forces a laugh out of Tommy, lungs rattling in his chest. It takes him a moment to recover, arm crossed over his stomach as he looks back to the god before him.
“Nah,” He wheezes. The god’s face tears through several emotions, mouth opening to speak before closing abruptly. There’s a pause where all he can do is stare. Hunger claws at Tommy once more and he winces. “Do you need an invitation or something?” He asks, gesturing to the rest of his dilapidated tent.
The god jolts and steps forward into the tent, white curtain falling behind him gracefully. The tent is bathed in darkness, but it doesn’t seem to matter because the god is glowing, if only slightly. Tommy watches the god fidget for a moment before he seems to come to a decision.
The god strides forward towards Tommy, not threatening surprisingly, but a comforting presence. His knee hits the dirt with a dull thud as he kneels in front of the bed before Tommy. His face is cast in worry again but he speaks without waver.
“I am Charlie, god of Food, Crafting, Smelting, and Enchantment.” His voice sounds like the whispers of the enchanting table but Tommy can understand him completely.
“I am Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit, god of absolutely nothing.” Tommy speaks, trying to match the inflection of the god before him. His words seem to catch Charlie off-guard and Tommy sees his lips twitch upwards with a little grin.
“Nice to meet you. I heard Condi gave you quite the scare?” Charlie’s grin widens, eyes literally twinkling. Tommy nods hesitantly, he doesn’t seem to be all that pissed with him, which means he hasn’t royally fucked himself.
“Are you going to explain?” Tommy whispers, the fear from his last encounter settling over his shoulders. He’s never directly met a god before- minus Condi but Tommy doesn’t really count that- so he has no idea what to expect. Charlie nods and he raises an arm out in between them.
A small green light fades above his hand and in a flash of something, there’s a bundle of blackberries settled in his palm. Charlie offers it to him and Tommy hesitates before snatching them. They taste amazing, and suddenly he feels better than he has in literal months. He hasn’t felt this good since before the war.
Charlie watches him for a moment before speaking. “Condi told you that usually the first follower becomes the priest right?” He pauses for Tommy’s conformational hum. “You fixed up the shrine, which technically makes you the first follower. You didn’t necessarily have to believe in us, but the work you put into the shrine woke us.”
“Woke you?” Tommy asks, wiping berry juice from off his chin with the back of his hand. Charlie nods.
“Story for another time?” He offers with a little self-conscious smile. Tommy hesitates before nodding. He’d really like to know what it means to be their priest. “Because you woke us up, that makes you our only attachment to the mortal plane. We may have created this land, but we have no ties to it without belief.” Charlie continues and he takes a second to ease up off the ground. He settles onto the bed, one knee propped onto the mattress while the other stays planted on the ground, body twisted to face Tommy.
“So that’s what being a priest is? I’m your attachment to the ‘mortal plane’.” Tommy clarifies with air quotes. The god snorts.
“Yes. Right now our connection to this plane is pretty weak. I’ll probably have to go back soon, but I need to explain this first.”
“How does your connection get stronger? More followers?” Tommy asks. Charlie nods.
“Several things can do it. Shrines, followers, prayers, even sacrifices.” The god rolls his shoulders. Tommy feels a shiver run down his spine.
“Sacrifices?” He asks, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He gets flashes of Techno with blood dripping from his tusks whispering ‘Blood for the Blood God’.
Charlie seems to pick up on his change in attitude. “Not human or anything like that. I know for a fact me and the guys prefer little things. Like, you can offer us flowers or stones you think look cool. It’s things that make you think of us, if only slightly.” Charlie explains. Tommy nods and he feels the fear fall away like a weight.
“How do I do the sacrifices?” Tommy asks after a moment. Charlie looks a little surprised at this and Tommy wants to ask why.
“You can just leave them in the shrine. They show up in our plane when the moon is highest.” Charlie explains. He frowns for a moment. “You’re taking this a lot better than I expected. Condi made it seem like you would be bouncing off the walls.” He comments.
This makes Tommy pause. Why is he so okay with this? These are gods, not members of the server. But, there is something comforting about the soft glow Charlie emits and the way his voice blends with a language he doesn’t understand. He realizes, belatedly, that Condi also gave him this feeling. He hasn’t once thought of going back to the nether for a round two atop that rickety oak plank bridge.
“You’re not going to hurt me at all, are you?” Tommy asks, locking grey-blue eyes with green to watch for any hint of deceit. Charlie’s gaze holds firm as he shakes his head.
“Never. If anything, we’d protect you with our lives.” The god speaks, words sounding like concrete, filling that little gap in the barrier Tommy’s built around his heart.
“Promise me.” He whispers, hope a feeble little thing in his chest, wanting so badly to be nurtured.
“I promise.”
~~
3
The third time Tommy meets a god, he’s in mourning.
It wasn’t even really anything to mourn about, if he’s following what Dream told him earlier that day.
Tommy had recently started to leave little offerings at the shrine the day after Charlie left. Just some small rocks and seashells he’d find at the shore. The one time he’d left a small bouquet of poppies the earth around the shrine literally sprouted with berries and tree’s bloomed oranges and apples by the next morning. Apparently, one of the gods really fuckin’ like poppies.
It’s kind of hard to navigate the small clearing now though, so Tommy has refrained from putting more than one poppy at a time. He’s on his way back from one of his little outings to the shrine when he sees it. A small baby bird with red feathers, vibrant against the green grass, is flapping its wing at the base of a tree. The wing in question is bent oddly, probably broken from its fall. It chirps up at him as he approaches and he cautiously leans down to pick it up.
He’s a little familiar with the different types of birds, considering his father is a bird. There’s a telltale black splotch around the eyes and beak that make Tommy believe it to be a Cardinal. The bird settles in his palm, left wing outstretched awkwardly. It’s calmed down now and stares up at him with beady little eyes that he can’t help but coo at.
Immediately, this little bird becomes his new best friend- fuck those gods he’s dealing with. Tommy takes the little thing to his tent and tries his damn hardest to make it a comfortable little nest on his furnace.
When Dream shows up later that afternoon and sees the bird however, Tommy knows the little thing won’t make it past sundown.
So now, he sits at the tree he found it at, carving a little stone grave to lodge into the ground. It’s kind of hard with his eyesight blurry with tears, but that doesn’t stop him. He hadn’t even named the damn thing. The sun is going down, but it’s not deep enough in the sky to warrant the shadow that falls over him.
He sighs before looking up, already expecting one of the gods to be behind him.
The god is draped in a navy blue cloak pulled over his head and resting on curly brown hair. Brown eyes hide behind a pair of black sunglasses. The cloak is trimmed light blue and falls over a black turtleneck with gold stitching. Gray pants are tucked into leather boots. Two strips of silk lined with golden dots fall from the bottom of his hood, almost resembling hoodie strings. His arms are crossed as he leans against the tree and his eyes are locked on the pathetic little stone Tommy’s carving.
Tommy stares for a moment before wiping his eyes and moving back to scratching the date into the stone. Time passes like that for a while. Tommy mourns and the god’s presence settles over him like a quilt, like a barrier against the harshness of the world.
When the sun finally sets, the god speaks. “Bizly, god of Mobs and Caves.” His voice is rough and Tommy nods softly.
“Tommy, but you probably already knew that.” Tommy replies. Bizly hums softly and Tommy thinks the god might be mourning with him. Tommy goes back to scratching, but the lack of progress frustrates him enough to slam the stone into the ground, only the day carved in. The funny part is that Tommy doesn’t even know if he’s correct in the date. The time in Logstedshire passes like running water, whipping him into rocks and falling from his palms.
Bizly merely picks the stone up off the ground and Tommy sees it glow blue for a moment, before it’s handed back to him. Instead of the date, there’s a small carving of the little bird and it makes tears pour out of his eyes again.
“It’s stupid. I didn’t even have him for that long.” Tommy mutters miserably. Bizly shakes his head.
“It’s still okay to mourn. He was important to you for as long as you had him.” Bizly reassures. The god stills for a moment, probably contemplating what his next words are. “Do you want him back?” The question is soft and it jerks Tommy’s head in his direction.
“But he’s dead?” Tommy notes, a little pathetically. Bizly hums.
“God of Mobs.” He whispers with a secret smile. Tommy stares at him and debates with himself.
“He’ll only die again.” He glooms. Bizly holds out a hand anyways, and with a blue light- similar to Charlie’s- the little bird appears in his palm, wing miraculously healed. The bird hops for a moment before floating down to rest in the rat's nest of sandy-blond on Tommy’s head. Little claws scrape against his scalp, but they don’t pierce his skin.
An emotion Tommy can’t place fills his chest, feeling an awful lot like gratefulness. It’s been a long time since he’s felt that, he realizes. “Thank you.” Tommy speaks, feeling a little obligated to the god standing above him. The god only shakes his head.
“Not a problem. Those poppies you gifted were enough to make Grizzly float over the moon.” He muses. Tommy can only assume that Grizzly is the last of the four gods.
“I haven’t met him, yet.” Tommy answers softly. Bizly hesitates for a moment but ultimately decides to speak.
“He’s.. a little weak right now. He’ll have to tell you why, but the poppies you’ve been offering are really helping.” Bizly explains. Tommy nods and tries to push down the urge to scour the valley for every single poppy he can find.
The bird pecks at a stray twig in Tommy’s hair and it draws the attention of Bizly who looks contemplative for a moment.
“What will you name him?” He asks, gesturing to the red cardinal. Tommy pauses and realizes that he can actually do that now. He’ll have to figure something else out for where the bird will live- maybe the shrine- but he can name him for now. Tommy looks to the stone and to the sky fading in with the sunset- the knowledge that he’s been out with the god all night doing little to deter him.
“Dawn.”
~~
4
It takes a while for Tommy to meet the fourth god. A long while. He has the chance to see the other three gods several times before he meets the guy.
“He’s weak.” Bizly will tell him while they sit at the shore of the beach, Dawn fluttering in the salty foam.
“He really does want to meet you, I swear.” Charlie reassures when teaching him to knit himself a new sweater for the colder months.
“He’s getting stronger everyday with your poppies and other offerings.” Condi tells him as he leans against the nether portal offering him a placating smile.
It’s frustrating to say the least. He’s met three of the four gods and none of them will explain why he can’t meet Grizzly yet. They avoid the question like the plague and say that it’s something he has to learn when he meets the final god. He’s tired of whining like a petulant child about it though, so he stops asking. He can tell that the gods seem to prefer his endless curiosity rather than his forced indifference however.
Charlie visits the most often. Something about being stronger than the other three. They never visit in pairs, two always staying with Grizzly in their plane. He hates that he wants to see where they go all the time. Hates that he wants to meet this last god so badly. It’s pathetic of him really. If only Dream knew what he was up to. Tommy’s sure he’s a little suspicious of the way Tommy’s slowly coming back to being himself. It’s hard knowing that there’s one god that he hasn’t met.
Tommy doesn’t tell them about his small little field of poppies, growing in the opposite direction of the shrine. Just for a god he has yet to meet.
It’s one of those days when his mind can’t stop wondering if Grizzly doesn’t want to meet him. Surely Tommy’s offered enough to at least introduce himself? Sure the gods always assure him that Grizzly is practically desperate to meet him and see what the fuss is all about. And yeah, Tommy can understand him being ‘weak’ and all that, but it’s hard to really believe it when he doesn’t know why. Their words sound more like excuses everyday.
So, he sits and wallows in the middle of a red speckled clearing. He supposes he can understand why Grizzly likes these flowers so much. They’re bright and smell good, and Charlie said something about how sentimental they are to him.
It’s a little windy today so you can't really blame Tommy for not hearing the little small gasp from behind him. Subconsciously though, he hears it and it makes him turn around.
There behind him, draped in crimson is the fourth god. The red cloak has slits for his arms clad with a black long-sleeved shirt. Black corsair pants are tucked into matching colored boots. Auburn hair swoops around the pug ears settled on his head. A strand in the front of his hair is shockingly white and falls over red eyes brimming with awe at the clearing.
The god seems to notice Tommy’s attention and he clears his throat a little awkwardly. “You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” He asks, lips twitching up into a little grin. Tommy can feel the embarrassment that floods his cheeks. No one was supposed to see this! Not even the god it was for.
“Uh-“ Tommy sputters, jerking to his feet and almost stomping on innocent poppies. The god grins and a laugh escapes him.
“I’m Grizzly. God of Tools, Weapons, and Nature. I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time.” His voice quiets, smile sitting a little stupid on his face. He looks giddy. No one ever looks at Tommy like that.
“Tommy.” He brings his hands behind his back, trying to hide his fidgeting. He’s nervous for some reason. He’s been wanting to meet this god for a month now, and now that he has- he wants to make the best impression.
Grizzly seems to catch himself and he tries (and fails) to rid himself of his smile. “I have something for you.” He speaks cryptically. Tommy tilts his head confused, but he dodges flowers as he makes his way closer to the god.
The god holds out a hand, red light shimmering over his palm. Tommy blinks and suddenly there’s a small dagger resting along the palm lines. He reaches for it and gently removes it from Grizzly’s grasp.
Its length spans from the tip of Tommy’s middle finger down to the base of his wrist. The blade shimmers with an enchantment and the handle is carved with little images of apples and poppies. Carved down the side of the handle is a sentence written in enchantment. The guard has a small gem lodged in the center that sparkles red with the sun.
“Why?” Tommy asks, breathless. Grizzly shrugs before speaking.
“I felt bad. You’ve been wanting to meet me and I haven’t been able to until right now. The guys have been moping around Molympus for the past two weeks.” Grizzly whispers like he’s sharing a secret.
“Molympus?” Tommy asks, finally seeing that thread of information he’s been waiting for. Grizzly’s eyes widen for a moment before he huffs good-naturedly.
“They left that for me to explain, huh?” He asks, looking a little amused. Tommy shrugs and idly twirls the dagger between his fingers. “Molympus is where we reside. It’s had some changes in the last couple centuries, but it’s still home to us. I guess now's the time to ask all your questions. I like to think of myself as a little more carefree about that stuff than the other gods.” Grizzly offers.
So Tommy does. He asks every little question that’s been weighing on his mind since he met Condi in the nether. He learns so much more than he thought he ever could. Grizzly tells him about a horned god that gave them their godhood and the trials they faced from him. The world the four of them created on their own and the damnation they faced. The tears in their bond and finally, the reason that Grizzly has been so weak.
“You died? I didn’t think gods could die.” Tommy muses. They’ve made their way to the edge of the clearing where Tommy leans forward eagerly to listen. Grizzly leans against a tree and hums.
“Only a god can kill another god.” He whispers, looking a little torn. It dawns on Tommy then.
“Who? Which one of them did it?” Tommy asks softly. Grizzly looks up abruptly.
“I asked Bizly too. You have to understand. I wasn’t.. myself. I hurt my friends and I wasn’t in my right mind. It had to be done.” Grizzly croaks. His hands are shaking and he tucks them into his body- looking every bit like a regretful man who wishes he’d done something different. Tommy stays silent, contemplating.
“How are you back?” He whispers. Grizzly sighs shakily.
“They looked forever for ways to bring me back. I- They couldn’t find one and by the time they lost hope- no one remembered us. Our tie to the mortal plane was gone and they had to wait for someone to find our shrine in the woods.” Grizzly explains, red eyes shining and he looks up at Tommy. Tommy feels his breath hitch, realization settling over him like a cloud.
“I brought you back?” He responds, a little in awe of himself. Grizzly nods.
“The guys had been stuck in Molympus for centuries grieving. One day, I just appeared with my throne built and my powers back. Immediately we knew someone had found the shrine and we just watched over you for a while until we could manage to become corporeal. And then Condi saw you on that stupid oak platform.” Grizzly continues, stricken. Tommy jolts, the knowledge that they knew settling in his heart. What else did they know?
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve went through, but trust me when I say this. You are under our protection, body and mind. We will never let anything harm you ever again, especially now that we’re back to our full strength.” Grizzly implores.
Tommy feels choked and something shifts in his chest, and suddenly something pierces his wrist. He pulls a stained white sleeve up his arm and stares.
The image of an apple shimmers gold at the base of his wrist, settled like a promise.
~~
+1
It’s one of those odd days when all four gods are sitting in his tent. (Since Grizzly finally gained enough strength to become corporeal, the gods have been dropping by more frequently.) Currently, Tommy has Grizzly’s cloak draped over himself and he’s making fun of Bizly for being soft on Dawn who sits in Charlie’s hair. He’s laughing when he hears it.
The soft whirling of the nether portal signaling Dream’s arrival.
It sends a jolt of fear down his spine and he shushes the gods- a little rudely. “Stay in here, please.” He begs. They look concerned and he sees anger tensing their bodies. He’s asked them to not do anything about Dream, but the longer he has to deal with the emotional manipulation the more he regrets the words.
He peals himself off the bed and out of the tent before Dream can shove his big head into the tent and see them.
“Tommy!” He calls, voice dripping honey and citrus. It grates on his spine and he sees Dream eyeing Grizzly’s cloak over his shoulders. His mask is shifted off to the side, allowing his freckles to darken with the sunlight. “Nice cloak.” He comments and Tommy can hear the underlying threat.
Dream has never shown up when one of the gods were here. It brings worry to his gut as he thinks of the way that they can most definitely hear everything going on.
“Yup.” He stammers, crossing his arms and trying to look as unbothered as possible. Dream’s eyes narrow at him after a moment and he hums.
“Where’d you get it? Certainly not anywhere nearby?” He asks, obviously implying that he thinks Tommy has left his little shred of exile.
“I-I made it?” And it sounds like a lie even to Tommy’s ears. He doesn’t know why he can’t just fucking stand up for himself anymore. Condi says its ‘trauma’ but Tommy hates that word. Dream crosses his arms and his expression hardens. Tommy gulps nervously.
“Tommy,” He speaks, sounding like he’s talking to a child, “I think you and I both know that isn’t true.”
“I thought you were coming tomorrow.” Tommy blurts, hoping to change the subject away from a cloak that isn’t his. Dream glares at him and it makes Tommy stumble backwards a step.
“I was, but I figured- since I had nothing to do today- that I’d drop in and say hello. Why? Did you not want to see me?” Dream claims, bringing a hand to his chest in faux hurt. Tommy shakes his head vigorously.
“No- Not at all. It’s.. nice to see you.” Tommy can’t stop the hesitation in his voice. He hates this. He’d rather be in his little tent talking to gods that feel more like family than his own. He wants to take up their offer to go to Molympus and see their thrones. He doesn’t want to be stuck here with Dream and he’s half tempted to ask the gods to take him away so he never has to see him again. Or kill him, but that thought is something he doesn’t want to think about too much.
“It doesn’t sound like it.” Dream goads, taking careful steps towards him. Tommy can see the tenseness in his shoulder and knows that its not a good idea to move right now. He has to let Dream come to him or something bad will happen.
Dream’s hand reaches out for the crimson cloak and it makes anger flood the fear. Tommy steps back abruptly, hand slapping on the spot Dream almost touched. Dream snatches his wrist and his thumbnail digs into shimmering gold. Tommy barely suppresses a yelp.
“What’s wrong with you recently? You’re not being a very good friend.” Dream hisses, grip tightening and sending pain down Tommy’s forearm. There’s no point struggling, but Tommy tries anyways- thoughts signaling to the fact that there are four (probably) powerful gods sitting in his tent just 10 meters away. He could call out, but what would Dream do?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tommy mutters, desperately trying to think of way to get the gods out of the tent. Dream growls- like a fucking bear- and yanks at his wrist before something makes him pause. Tommy watches with bated breath as Dream’s eyes lock onto the gold stained apple under his thumb.
“Tommy,” His voice deceptively calm, “How’d you get this?” Tommy panics and yanks his wrist back, but Dream holds firm.
“None of your fucking business.” Tommy barks. Suddenly, Tommy remembers that you can pray to gods. Grizzly had explained it to him when they first met. It’s just a thought- but it digs hope into his skin.
Help. Please, help me. Tommy prays, hoping with everything that they can hear him.
In the corner of his eye he can see the tent flap billow, and Tommy catches a glimpse of an empty tent.
“It is my business, Tommy. How the hell in the world did you-?!” He cuts himself off, eyes snapping to something over Tommy’s shoulder. Frantically, he whips his head around to see four very pissed off gods standing behind him. Dream’s grip slackens in shock and Tommy pulls- hard- and stumbles for the closest god.
Charlie grabs him by the shoulder- gentle but firm- and drags Tommy behind him. Grizzly steps forward and Tommy can see- in the palm of his hand- a large silver and blue sword.
Dream stumbles back and Tommy can see fear in his eyes.
“Tommy,” Charlie whispers, “Are you okay?” Tommy shudders, but nods- trying not to look at the bruise forming over gold painted skin.
“What the- Tommy!” Dream gasps angrily. The fear is gone and Dream looks enraged. Grizzly moves to stand in front of Tommy, blocking him from Dream’s eyes. There’s a moment of quiet tension before Dream lunges at Grizzly who easily dodges and pushes him back to the ground. The silver and blue sword is brought to Dream’s neck and he stills, breathing hard.
“Tommy? Do you want to see Molympus?” Condi asks from his side, obviously implying something to Charlie. Tommy hesitates.
“What are you going to do?” He whispers. Condi stills and shares a glance with Bizly.
“What we should’ve done a long time ago.” Bizly replies. Tommy breathes out slowly and distantly he can hear Dream screaming at him, but in his circle of gods- he is protected.
He knows what they’re going to do. But, most of him doesn’t care. Most of him is relieved and the part that isn’t is quickly shushed by the gleam in Grizzly’s sword; the overwhelming concern in Charlie’s eyes; the way Bizly is tensed but still watching Tommy for an answer; and the way Condi silently gives reassurance.
“Yeah- I want to see Molympus.” He whispers, the true meaning of his words settling into the air. Charlie smiles and grabs his shoulders gently. Charlie looks over at Grizzly, who’s turned to see them off.
“Save some for me.” Charlie speaks, and Grizzly gives a small smirk. “Well, what are we waiting for?” Charlie beams at Tommy, and suddenly shimmering green fills his vision and his feet feel lighter than air.
And when he and Charlie land at the base of the tall pillars of quartz that is Molympus- Tommy feels at home.