Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 It’s been a few days since Dream killed Tommy, and he finally decides that it’s time to bring the brat back. Sure it’s peaceful without the blonde’s incessant whining, but the smell of Tommy’s body is starting to overwhelm Dream’s cell. He is surprised to keep waking up and finding that Sam hasn’t come to take it away yet. Oh well, it works in Dream’s favor to see his work firsthand.

 With a satisfied grin, Dream opens his cell’s chest and brings out one of the many journals and quills he has stored in there. Opening up the empty notebook, he begins writing out the revival spell that only he knows-- now that Schlatt is dead, that is. Despite contrary belief (such as Tommy’s), the revival book isn’t an actual book. Well, it was when Dream got his hands on it. But now, it’s all the necessary text fully memorized by Dream before he burned the physical copy. He doesn’t need anyone else having the power to reverse death itself.

 As Dream finishes writing, the words begin to glow a bright white. Within seconds, each letter shines in a blinding intensity before disappearing from the page altogether. Dream looks up expectantly at Tommy’s corpse and leans back against the obsidian wall next to the chest.

 Dream doesn’t have to wait long before Tommy shoots forward into a sitting position. Dream smirks as the blonde gasps for air and whips his head around in muted astonishment. Did he think Dream would just let him stay dead? That he would be free just because he died?

 Dream chuckles and watches is sadistic glee as Tommy scrambles backward harshly into the wall and curls up into a ball. The sight reminds Dream fondly of Exile when Tommy would hide in the corners of his tent or Logdestire. It’s nice being back in control. Dream sadly thought his grip on Tommy was slipping away when the teen came to the prison. But in close proximity to Tommy, Dream could smell the lingering fear on him, and that told Dream everything he needs to know about his control over Tommy.

 “So how was being dead, Tommy?” Dream asks.

 Tommy doesn’t answer, choosing instead to remain with his head held in between his knees. Dream moves closer to the huddled blonde, which Tommy doesn’t seem to notice, and Dream sees that Tommy is breathing quite heavily. Dream remembers Tommy’s frequent panic attacks from Exile, and this looks extremely similar.

 “Tommy?” Dream asks, his voice dripping more curiosity than sincerity. Still no response. “Tommy! Answer me!” Dream nearly yells at Tommy who continues to ignore Dream.

 How dare he ignore Dream. Dream, who so graciously gave him more experiences than anyone else in this world. Who let him come back from the dead. 

 Dream storms forward toward Tommy’s trembling form and yanks Tommy up by the collar of his signature red and white shirt. The material is stained with Tommy’s now dried blood that still coats the side of his face and top of his forehead. The nasty bruises and large gash Dream gave Tommy didn’t fade when the latter got revived, but they do look like they’ve healed a little. At Dream’s violence, Tommy flinches harshly, nearly throwing himself out of Dream’s grasp. Tommy’s eyes fly open and panickedly flit all over the place, never focusing on one thing.

 “What did you do to me?” Tommy asks, his voice breaking over each seemingly unsure word.

 Dream doesn’t question what Tommy means. He can see exactly what Tommy’s talking about. Tommy’s once blue eyes are now white, unseeing of the world around him.

 “What did you do to me?” Tommy repeats, this time shouting the desperate question into Dream’s face. His blind eyes are wide to the world he can no longer witness.

 Dream drops Tommy roughly to the floor. Tommy quickly scrambles back to the wall, shaking even more and covering his head with his trembling arms.

 “How pathetic,” Dream says, looking scornfully down at Tommy. 

 Tommy still shows no notice of hearing Dream, which means if Dream is correct, Tommy is deaf, too. Hmm, interesting. Dream didn’t expect Tommy to come back with the loss of two of his senses, but it is quite an interesting development. Pity, though, that means Dream won’t be able to get any answers from Tommy.

 “Sam!” Dream shouts, knowing the prison warden is always close by. “Come get Tommy out of here.” 

 Dream’s voice is impassive and uncaring. Anyone who doesn’t know Dream would mistake his words for sympathy, but there is absolutely none of that in Dream’s intentions. He simply has no use for Tommy anymore. And it isn’t much fun to torment the blonde when he can’t hear anything Dream has to say to him. At least Tommy’s quieter now.

 In only a matter of minutes, the lava surrounding Dream’s cell begins to fall, and Sam makes his way over on the platform. When Sam gets to the cell, it’s obvious he didn’t expect to see Tommy there alive and crying in the corner. Sam unnecessarily wards Dream away from Tommy with his trident before going over to the blonde. Dream smiles widely when Tommy flinches away from Sam’s gentle touch. 

 “Tommy?” Sam says softly. “It’s me Sam.”

 When Tommy shows no sign of hearing Sam (he must really be deaf, then), Sam carefully takes on of Tommy’s hands and brings it up to his gas mask before Tommy can rip his hand away. Tommy’s fingers trace the details of Sam’s mask until he realizes he it is. When he does, Tommy sobs harder.

 “Sam!” Tommy cries brokenly.

 Sam helps Tommy stand up and lets the blonde lean on him as they exit the cell. Tommy’s steps are unsure, and Dream bets that if Sam wasn’t there to guide Tommy, the teen would have face planted into the obsidian floor many times. Oh how Dream would have wanted to see that.

 Neither Tommy nor Sam turn back to look at Dream, and the last thing Dream sees of them before the lava falls back into its place is Tommy collapsing into Sam with waterfalls of tears cascading down his face.

 The sight brings a wicked smile to Dream’s face. It matches the one he always wears on his mask.

Chapter Text

 Sam doesn’t know why Tommy is crying so much. Sure, dying, being revived, and being trapped with the man who has single handedly ruined most of his life is probably traumatizing as hell, but Sam has seen Tommy more composed than this in even worse scenarios. It has awed Sam more than it should have, just how resilient Tommy is in the face of evil and danger. He didn’t break down when he was exiled by Schlatt or when L’Manberg was blown up both times. But despite all the tyrants and anarchists that Tommy has bravely stood up to, he is still just a kid. A kid who when Sam looks into Tommy’s eyes, sees what is wrong.

 Tommy’s blue eyes are no longer there, instead, there is only milky white. They flicker all over the place, never settling on any one thing. Sam’s expression saddens at the desperation and turmoil likely raging inside Tommy.

 Suddenly, Tommy barrels into Sam and crushes him in a tight hug. His tears haven’t stopped, and Sam doesn’t know how to make them. Doesn’t know if there’s a way to end the sadness and loss Tommy is experiencing.

 “Sam,” Tommy sobs into Sam’s armor, “I can’t see. I can’t hear.”

 The last statement shocks Sam, but he tries his best to not freeze up.

 Tommy… can’t hear either? Sam had his hunch in the cell about Tommy being blind, but there was no way of telling he’s deaf now, too. How can Sam tell him it’s going to be okay? (How is Sam going to be able to lie to Tommy?)

 For a while, neither Tommy nor Sam move from their slightly awkward embrace. Then, Tommy sniffles away the last of his tears and draws back from Sam’s likely uncomfortable armor.

 “I don’t… I don’t know what to do,” Tommy says quietly, nervously looking around. Sam wonders what everything is like from his perspective.

 Sam doesn’t really know what to do either. He can’t keep Tommy here in the prison, though. It’s too dangerous and probably traumatizing considering Tommy’s last stay here. Guilt consumes Sam at the thought of him not being able to save Tommy from Dream. Indirectly at least, Sam is the reason for Tommy’s current condition. It pains Sam. 

 But… Tommy has people on the outside of the prison. They might be shocked to see their friend alive after Sam explained that Dream had beaten the blonde to death, but Sam is sure that they would all welcome Tommy and be happy to see him back.

 With that in mind, Sam gently and slowly guides Tommy through the prison. Tommy was hesitant at first, obviously not know what’s happening, but eventually let Sam take him back the shoulder and arm and lead him out of the prison. When they finally exit the Prison, Sam continues to guide Tommy. This time, setting chart for Snowchester.

 After a while of walking, the terrain finally changes into a slightly hillier area with a little more snow. Tommy begins shivering at the sudden colder temperatures, so Sam removes his gold and green cape around Tommy.

 “Thank you,” Tommy murmurs.

 It doesn’t take too much longer to make it to Tubbo and Ranboo’s house. It resides in the middle of Snowchester and looks warm. If this goes well, Tommy will be enjoying the warmth, and Sam will be returning to the prison to deal with a certain prisoner.

 Patiently, Sam helps Tommy up each step. The teen doesn’t like being babied, but the one time Sam didn’t help him, Tommy would have tripped over the railing into a large snowbank. At the top of the steps, Sam takes a deep breath and knocks on the wooden front door. It’s not long before a figure taller than Sam opens the door from the other side. 

 “Oh, hi, Sam. What can I do for…,” Ranboo trails off as he catches sight of Tommy. “Is that… Tommy?”

 “He can’t hear you,” Sam sadly informs Ranboo.

 “What?” Ranboo’s voice sounds heartbroken and confused. He still continues to stare are Tommy, as if uncertain to the blonde actually being there or not.

 “Ranboo!” a new yet familiar voice calls out from inside the house. “Who’s there?”

 Tubbo suddenly appears next to Ranboo in the doorway. His eyes widen when he sees Tommy underneath Sam’s cape.

 “Tommy?” Tubbo asks quietly.

 “May I please come inside?” Sam asks, really not wanting to explain everything to Tubbo and Ranboo while out in the cold.

 Silently, Ranboo opens the door open further and allows Sam inside. He continues to guide Tommy in. Tommy seems to notice the sudden change of temperature and looks around uselessly. When Sam sits Tommy down on a chair, Tommy traces his fingers and palms over every surface. He’s trying to figure out where he is, what’s going on, Sam realizes. 

 “Care to explain what’s going on?” Tubbo asks a little harshly, which is to be expected in his surprise. “Tommy, I thought you were dead.”

 Tommy, of course, doesn’t hear Tubbo. 

 Before Tubbo and Ranboo can jump to conclusions, Sam begins his explanation. “Dream revived Tommy earlier. He’s…, well, Tommy came back blind and deaf,” Sam isn’t sure if his bluntness is the best way to go, but there is no other easy way to tell Tommy’s best friends about his misfortune. “I’m not sure why, but he did.”

 Tubbo stares at Sam with his jaw practically dropped. Ranboo looks over Sam’s shoulder at Tommy who is unaware of the conversation happening right beside him.

 Then, Tubbo abruptly rushes out of the room, only to return a few seconds later with something clutched in his hand. Tubbo cautiously goes over to Tommy who sits peacefully on the wooden chair. Tubbo, with trembling hands, takes Tommy’s. Tommy flinches as Tubbo’s scarred skin touches his, causing a saddened expression to form on Tubbo’s face. Tubbo gently maneuvers whatever item was in his hand into Tommy’s. 

 As Tommy feels it, Sam sees that its a silver compass that seems to glow a dim light blue, showing that the item is enchanted. Sam quietly watches as Tommy traces his fingers over words engraved in the bottom of the compass.

 Understanding washes over Tommy’s face, and he turns wide-eyed in the direction Tubbo stands. “Tubbo?” Tommy asks.

 “Tommy!” Tubbo sobs. He crushes Tommy in a hug, and Tommy hugs him back. A few stray tears trickle down Tommy’s own face, too. Apparently he wasn’t done.

 Silently, Sam turns away from the scene and walks back to the front of the house. As he reaches the door, Ranboo speaks up. “Thank you for bringing him here, Sam,” Ranboo says. His multicolored eyes are watery, but he doesn’t let the tears escape.

 Sam looks away. “It was the least I could do,” Sam says before opening the door and closing it behind him.

 As Sam treks back through the snowy city to the prison, two friends reunite with their previously lost one. And as they all hug, a little kid races downstairs and joins the embrace.

Chapter Text

 The past few months have been tough. Ever since Sam brought Tommy to Snowchester and reunited Tubbo with his best friend, things have changed. Tubbo can’t tell if they’re good or not.

 Don’t get Tubbo wrong. He loves Tommy and is overjoyed to have him back despite Tubbo’s initial shock. Sometimes Tubbo misses the peace he had with just Ranboo and Michael, but he’s happier to have Tommy here and alive than… the other option.

 Tommy himself is different, of course. Tubbo thinks that if he was killed then brought back to life, he would be, too. But Tommy’s new lack of sight and hearing has also changed him. Tommy is quieter, now. Tubbo isn’t used to Tommy being silent. He’s always been louder of the two of them, always more energetic and boisterous. Now it seems that Tommy doesn’t always know what to be excited about, although, he’s still happy to spend time with Tubbo and his family.

 Michael loves to hang out with Tommy. Tubbo often finds the two of them either in Michael’s room or outside near the garden. Sometimes they’re playing with Michael’s toys, coloring, or Michael reads to Tommy, even if the latter can’t hear him.

 Ranboo has suddenly started baking more. Tubbo thinks its for Tommy’s sake since he can still smell the sweet aromas and taste the delicious cookies, cakes, pastries, and pies Ranboo has taught themself to bake. Once when Tubbo asked Ranboo about it, Ranboo said that the baking is therapeutic, gives him something to do. It distracts them.

 “And it makes Tommy smile,” Ranboo had said. “I’m starting to forget what that looks like.” Tubbo had nearly cried.

 Tubbo tries to spend as much time as he can with Tommy and his family. He’s busy most of the time, but whenever he can, Tubbo sits beside Tommy and talks. Tubbo knows Tommy can’t hear him, but sometimes the blonde reassuringly squeezes Tubbo’s hand at just the right time.

 Tommy, for the most part, is constantly supervised. Tubbo is sure he knows that, but unlike himself, Tommy doesn’t complain too much. However, when Tommy isn’t with someone, he wanders around. Surprisingly, Tommy now knows Snowchester like the back of his hand. Despite being blind, Tommy had learned where each hall leads, every door opens, every staircase descends to. He can navigate the kitchen when he wants a snack and make his way outside fully prepared for the cold temperatures that await.

  Tubbo can’t believe he started forgetting (or was it ignoring?) how stubborn and resilient Tommy is. Whenever Tommy initially denied Ranboo’s help to get around, Tubbo assumed it was his irritation. When Tommy would spill something because he didn’t ask for help, Tubbo thought it was Tommy’s brashness. But no, it was just Tommy trying to adapt to his shitty situation.

 A shitty situation indeed. Tubbo often finds himself seething at the thought of Dream somehow causing Tommy’s blindness and deafness. Ranboo always does his best to calm Tubbo down before he storms off to the prison to do something he’ll regret (unlikely), but Tubbo can feel the rage radiating off of Ranboo, too. Neither of them are happy about what happened to their friend, but there is sadly nothing they can do about it except help Tommy live to the best of his ability.

 Tubbo sighs and sinks further into the bench he and Tommy are sitting on. Tubbo is pretty sure Tommy knows where the two of them are; he traced the initials they carved into the old bench which faces the sunset the minute they got here. This bench-- Tommy and Tubbo’s bench-- has been here through all of the wars Tommy and Tubbo have fought through, all their disagreements and arguments settled just by sitting in this spot and listening to Tommy’s discs. Not that Tommy can listen to their music anymore or see how the sky turns different colors.

 Tubbo sniffs as tears effortlessly glisten in his eyes and slide down his cheeks. A couple of tears drop onto Tommy’s hand, the one that holds Tubbo’s. Tommy’s pale eyes turn in Tubbo’s direction, and the blonde looks at Tubbo with worry.

 Instead of asking Tubbo what’s wrong or saying everything’s going to be okay, Tommy just squeezes Tubbo’s hand and gives him a small reassuring smile. Tommy can’t speak anymore. Over the last few months, his voice faded until it became no more. No more loud curse words and declarations. No more energetic war cries and rebutes. Now, Tommy can barely laugh or sigh, but Tubbo hears him crying sometimes in the middle of the night.

 Tubbo, grateful for the little support Tommy provides him, leans against Tommy’s arm and lays his head on the blonde’s shoulder. Tommy leans into Tubbo, too, resting his own head lightly on top of Tubbo’s.

 And like that, Tubbo and Tommy sit for a while as only one of them listens to a melodic music disc and watches the setting sun. Later, a father searches for his husband with his son in hand, joining the duo on the bench when he does.