Chapter Text
Tommy blinked back to reality as he stared up at his dirt ceiling. His mind felt as if it was on fire, the migraine that had been pounding in his skull gradually got worse as he contemplated actually eating after not having a single meal for the last few days. Outwardly, the only thing he could do was sigh. He hadn't moved from his bed in days since his last meet up with Wilbur and Quackity. They ignored him as they had bickered like a couple, not even noticing Tommy leaving. Wilbur hadn't bothered to message him during the passing time.
Reminded of his communicator, Tommy checked it to see if anyone had messaged him during his floating. Tommy didn't even flinch when he saw that his messages weren't even shown as read. Nobody seemed to want anything to do with him anymore. He couldn't blame them. More and more often, Tommy was left in the quiet to think. His thoughts were too loud.
He tried, once, to head up to his old bench to listen to his discs, but without Tubbo it wasn't the same. He missed his friend. Really missed him. And thoughts wouldn't stop. He kept thinking back on everything. And everywhere he saw nothing but himself as the blame. The guilty criminal.
Everything that had happened was his fault. He encouraged Wilbur on his crusade. He allowed the election to continue, knowing that rigging it wouldn't have ended well no matter who won. He couldn't stop Wilbur's descent into insanity. He couldn't fix anything.
But maybe he could.
His eyes widened as the idea festered. It grew larger and more planned as he couldn't stop the spiral.
Jumping up suddenly, Tommy rushed around his house, grabbing his old suitcase and the raggedy back-pack he first used when he came to the Essimpee.
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Dream scrunched up eyebrows in curiosity as he watched Tommy run around like a hyped up puppy. He couldn't, for the rarest moment, figure out what Tommy was doing. Dream shifted his position within his hiding place. That's when he saw it. The packing and wreckage of the small room.
As Tommy turned his back long enough, Dream left his spot. He leaned on the door frame that led deeper into the home. He stayed silent as Tommy turned around and saw him. Surprisingly, Tommy didn't seem to react.
The sun shining in from the windows behind Tommy seemed to amplify the emotionless expression on Tommy as he shrugged off Dream's presence. Tommy continued his actions from before, neatly (as neatly as Dream had ever seen Tommy be) folded his clothes and shoved them down his suitcase.
"Wow, are you really going to ignore me Tommy? How rude," Dream teased out after a while, hoping for the usual terrified response. It never came.
"I mean, yeah," Tommy's dead response came, "that's usually how you hallucinations usually disappear." Dream tensed at the admission. He soon smiled at the advantage he seemed to have now.
"Mmm, still rude to not say hi Toms," he felt thrilled at the shiver he got from the nickname, "Anyways what's this all about?" Tommy paused in his actions. He seemed to contemplate what to say. Dream waits and seemed to be rewarded for the patience as Tommy sighs, a quiet "fuck it" is breathed out.
"You wanna know the truth?" Tommy's voice didn't shake as much as dream would have expected as he turned, the dark grey (grey? Weren't his eyes blue?) bore into his own eyes, even with his mask on, Dream felt exposed. He nodded once he realized that Tommy was waiting for an answer.
"I'm tired."
Dream shivered, a sudden chill seemed to envelop the room. Somehow, the room seemed to shrink. Something wasn’t right.
"I've been thinking," Tommy restarts his task, Dream interrupts, "that's a first." Tommy ignores it, irritation starts to rise past the unease that had started to settle in.
"And I've decided to leave."
Rage consumed Dream, his body tensing as he tried not to show any of his cards to Tommy.
"What makes you think you can leave?" Dream inquires, "what could you possibly have…"
"That's the thing, Dream," Tommy interrupted, his voice never fluctuating, never growing louder, "I don't "have" anything." Tommy sat at the edge of his bed, his packing finished and ready to leave. A silence returned as Dream waited, thinking and rethinking what to say.
"I don't think I ever had anything to begin with," Tommy whispered deafeningly loud into the once calm quiet that shattered into tense sobering discomfort. A stone seemed to start forming in Dream's gut as the sense of wrong returned to him. He opened his mouth to reply but Tommy continued. It was as if Tommy couldn't stop.
"I mean you," Tommy's small voice seems too big, too loud now, "well not you you , but the real Dream made sure of that. And I can't blame him!" As he rambled, he started to stumble and stutter as if his mouth couldn’t move fast enough.
"I can't blame him. Not anymore," he paused, inhaling and exhaling, "I kinda get it now. I was always told by so many how much a loud and annoying kid was so unwanted and useless. I wanted to prove them wrong. So filled by my spite and angry that I just… I just… proved them right. Every. Damn. One of them," his voice came out horsed and whispered at the end. Dream starred on as Tommy slowly started to shake, legs pulled up and wrapped in his own arms. Silent tears ran down Tommy's face, but his voice stayed clear, even with how quiet he had become.
"I really am just a dumb little kid aren't I? I'm supposed to be 18 now? I still feel like I'm 15, fighting for my damn life," he paused, seemingly debating on continuing or not. Dream moved, finally. Slowly he approached Tommy, crouching in front of the child (because that's what he is. What his always had been since the beginning) and waited for him.
He breathed and started again.
"I tried to stay the same, you know? I thought that nobody would like it if I changed too much. Nobody seemed to like it much when Wilbur changed. I thought I had done good. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. Tubbo exiled me when I thought… I thought they would have understood it was supposed to have been a joke. The fire wasn't intentional. The house wasn't supposed to catch fire, anyways," Tommy started to shake harder as a sob ripped through his throat, "I just didn't want Ranboo to feel left out. Not like I had been at the orphanage." Dream froze. More information tucked away to review later. (It would be very long though)
"I wanted to be heard again. I had something I never experienced before, and I… I couldn't… I just," Tommy exaggerated his breathing, trying to self soothe, "I just wanted to be wanted ."
The confession rang long and hard in Dream's head. For the first time in a long time, he felt lost.
"I don't think I've ever once been wanted. Truly wanted," Tommy continued as if he hadn't started to crack and chip away at Dream's mind, "looking back, Wilbur only ever seemed to want me for advantages. I was used for bringing in the L'Manburg members. I mean, it doesn't matter any more it seems. Eret doesn't talk with us anymore. Tubbo is working with Technoblade to bring back Ranboo, which I don't blame them for. Ranboo is so much better than me. And Jack and Nikki haven't really been that discreet about trying to kill me," at this, Tommy harshly laughs, no humor found within the dry sound.
"Nor has the Eggpire," Tommy's voice starts to rise, a hysterical tone takes over his voice as he rants, "I'm very certain that a good portion of this server would be in celebration with my head on a stick. Just look at the mess I made!" Tommy started to exaggerate his point as he animated his body language, Dream having to duck under his swinging arms and scooting over as Tommy rose and started to pace.
"I did this, I pushed and pushed and pushed . And look at what happened. Dream’s been villainized because I couldn't take a damn "no" from any authority figure, while also blindly following Wilbur, hoping he was the good choice. Sam was a good person but now if I try to even get in seeing distance to him, he gets hostile. Technoblade will kill me without hesitation if I ever show up at his house, I doubt Phil would stop him. And Wilbur only acknowledges my existence if he can exploit something from me!" Dream watched on as Tommy paced, chewing on the tip of his thumb between unwritten paragraphs tumbling out of Tommy's mouth.
"So running is your new choice?" Dream uncharacteristically soft voice guided Tommy back to him. He nods.
"It's running, or," Tommy pauses, the emotionless child pecking back through, "or dying by the hands of someone. Anyone really." The previous stone in this gut no longer existed to Dream as it felt as if a mountain carved itself into Dream’s stomach and letting gravity take over as the nausea finally registered with the sunken stomach.
Dream looked at Tommy. And really saw. He could see the small but present patches of missing hair, having been ripped out from panic attacks. He saw the bruising. They looked as if they should have been healed long before then, but still seemed so fresh. And the scars . They were countless.
"What," Dream seemed to struggle for air, "what happened before you joined the Essimpee?" Tommy sighed. He approached Dream, sitting beside him in the opposite direction from where Dream faced.
"Do you really want to know?" He looked towards Dream, too exhausted to bother looking him in the face full on. Dream took a deep breath, truly letting the decision he was going to make sink in. He found that he felt no regret towards it. Tommy peeked up and followed the movement of Dream’s hands as they came to grab his mask.
Tommy's eyes widened, the only show of any emotion, as Dream revealed his face. Emerald glowing eyes stared into Tommy, surrounded by star shaped golden freckles (a confirmation to Tommy's previous suspensions he once had about the man), his face surprisingly tan given Tommy couldn’t remember ever seeing Dream without his mask. Even when he was in prison, Dream's mask was never taken.
"Yes," came Dream's whispered response. Tommy searched his face, looking for anything to indicate false assurance. He sighed, accepting that even if Dream was lying, he wouldn't be able to tell. He leaned into Dream, putting all his weight into the warm (he hasn't felt warmth, true warmth in a long time) body next to him and relaxed.
"Come with me?"