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The world was at its end. People had taken science too far and a vicious virus had taken the world and its people. Those who are left years after are the broken; those who have immoral goals and insane plans or those who are thriving off of luck or others.
In this broken world stood a tall fortress made of wood and stone were three friends called it home; Dream, George, and Sapnap. Dream ruled the area with a vicious fist, George and Sapnap were only his sidekicks in his major bloodbath of fighting and manipulation for supplies and food. Dream never held prisoners, no one was allowed in or out of his fortress but for a long while, he held a teenager around his finger...and neck, head, legs, arms, and hair. He knew it was immoral to beat up and torture a teenager but it's the end of the world, he thought, who cared about this kid anyway? Other than the older brother being bribed by him…
He looked up at the ceiling of the large, broken-down cathedral they called their own; the roofs blocked the sun from the outside, pointed and dark. Any entrances that weren't the front doors were blocked off and rigged with barbed wire. Maybe, he thought, they'd move their base again. Dream was getting bored in this area, although his friends would cause a fit but they wouldn't dare do anything else but speak. They were terrified of him. Better to be feared than loved, they say.
"Dream- Dream!" George came running up the steps from the basement Tommy, his prisoner, was being held in. The brunette spoke quickly, one hand pointing down the way he ran from.
"He's gone again!'
The overlord stood still, a manic smile grew on his face.
"Another game of cat and mouse, then," Dream's feet led him to his armory. To think his little mouse snuck away again after countless other times, even after being told over and over that the boy wouldn't find his friends, brother, or any hope of survival out there, not without Dream. This game should be put to an end, Dream planned.
"Let's play, Tommy."
---
Tommy's thin shoes scraped against the concrete of a broken highway. His heart thrummed in his ears, loudly, while his thoughts shook his growing headache. Thank god, he prayed, that George was stupid enough to leave things where he could get them. Some string and metal made a hook and the stupid man left the key across the small room on a table. Just a good swing and out he went, breaking a blocked window. Unfortunately, his knees and calves were covered in cuts and blood from the barbed wire but what part of his body wasn't already covered in cuts, blood, and bruises; all black, blue, and yellow?
He stopped, gasping for air to fill his hurting lungs. He held his head up to see the city at the end of the Neverending highway he stood on and for a moment, looking out into the city and the fields around it, he felt hope. Hope. His heart filled with it, at last. This was the one; this was the escape that would save his life.
The sun was setting in an hour or two and the sky was a beautiful shade of orange and blue. There was no wind to rustle his greasy hair and there was no one to grab and pull at it either. His breathing settled and he sucked in the smell of the air, slowly through his nose. Ignoring the smells of blood and death, there was the distant smell of trees and grass as well as a hint of oil. This moment was what he waited for; the sight of the cityscape ahead, where his friends and brother may be. Maybe even his dad? He often daydreamed of seeing them again, their faces shocked to see him but he would hug them. He should've hugged them more, should've told them he loved them even when he would insult them. This has to change, he decided; he'll find them all and hold them close and tell them how much he truly valued them. Tommy's feet shifted, painfully, as he started to run again...
His own glass-shattering scream filled the peaceful air and a sudden impact on his shoulder stopped him halfway.
Tommy's knees hit the cement, one pale hand on his shoulder and the other placed tensely on the ground. He had been caught already.
"You need to stop this, Tommy," The voice was less familiar but once the boy turned his head back to face his attacker, he recognized him immediately; Sapnap. That greasy black hair was tied in a ponytail after outgrowing the old short shaggy look. In his hands was a makeshift bow and those stoic black eyes glared down at Tommy as he approached.
"You know what happens every time," his voice sounded more concerned than rough, "Dream catches you, Dream and George beat you, you get a free place to sleep and eat. It repeats."
"That," Tommy gulped down saliva as he stood, the pain in his shoulder stung with each muscle that moved, "That is the problem."
The teenager faced him head-on, voice desperate, "you agreed this is wrong! You're the one who gives me that food! You're the only one who talks to me but you're still loyal to that maniac?"
The boys' breath stuttered as he shut his eyes to hide the growing tears, his voice barely a whisper.
"You're just as bad as him."
The words triggered a spark of anger in Sapnap's eyes, his fingers tightened around the bow.
"Don't you dare compare me to him, you know why I do this!"
Tommy's hand gripped his injured shoulder, his blue eyes meeting the ground. "Because of food and shelter? That's not living, Sapnap, that's surviving!"
"That's all we can do anymore, Tommy." The man walked closer, rounding behind the boy and he yanked the arrow out of his shoulder, listening to the boy yelp in agony.
"Let's go. Maybe they'll go easy on you."
The boys' fists tightened, his grown fingernails dug into his palms. He looked back out to the city, memories of his loved ones flashed in his mind once more, and suddenly, he felt something lift his heart and soul. A feeling he hadn't felt in so long, he barely recognized it.
Determination mixed with his undying stubbornness.
"No," Tommy exclaimed, "I'm not going back!"
Sapnap turned back around, his eyes wide for a moment with surprise but they were then replaced with a glower. He sighed once he saw the look on the boy’s face and he threw his bow to the side, abruptly.
"Then we're gonna have to fight." The man took off his quiver and tossed it with his blue and green plastic bow as if he knew it'd be a short fight. His tan hands curled in a fist and by the look in his eye, he was emotionally guarded for any damage he'd do to Tommy.
"Fine with me."
The first one to throw a punch was Tommy and Sapnap easily dodged, throwing his fist into the teen's stomach. Tommy's stomach lurched and stung but he was able to bring his knee up and Sapnap's nose was the target. With how Sapnap had dodged and bent down, his face was left in the open and once he was hit, he backed up, a hand covering his nose before wiping the blood away. Unbothered, the man charged up again, fist drawn back. The teen threw himself to the side but he overestimated his dodge and landed on the ground, his bare and scarred arms scraping painfully against the rocky ground. The man above simply grabbed a handful of blonde hair, pulling up the boy's head before smashing the side of his forehead against the concrete. Tommy's vision stuttered and his head throbbed. Sapnap stood over him, teeth gritted as he backed away. The stoic and guarded look in his dark eyes wavered slightly.
"I'm sorry, Tommy," his voice was small, "but maybe if you'd just obey, you'd be safer."
Tommy's hand pressed down on the now bleeding part of his forehead as he sat up. He couldn't go back, his thoughts jumbled, he couldn't! This time was supposed to be different, he felt it in his gut! Tommy held up his head, his jumbled thoughts screaming and crying as he looked around.
Sapnap's back was turned. The boys' blue eyes glided over to the adults' discarded weapon and ammo. There was no plan behind his eyes, only a boy who needed to get away.
Tommy desperately crawled in one quick motion to Sapnap's leather quiver that held the handmade arrows. Taken aback, the man hesitated to stop the teen boy before reaching out to grab him but it was too late. Tommy kicked his knees, causing the man above him to collapse and the boy crawled on top of him, his eyes only focusing on him in a tunneled rage.
"This is for everything you've let happen to me!" The boy shouted, teeth bared and he brought the arrow down to stab Sapnap's shoulder. The man below him groaned in pain and yelped when Tommy instantly yanked it back out. This process was repeated over and over, with the boy yelling his grievance. The arrow dug into the other shoulder, the collarbones, the neck...and then the forehead. Any protests from Sapnap died with him on his final breath, his hands he had brought up to stop the boy fell to his side with a loud thump. Tommy stared into the dark eyes, expecting the lulled circles to snap back up at him to glare at him but they didn't. Finally, Tommy's breath hitched and he threw himself off, tears growing in his eyes.
He did it. He killed someone. He killed the only guy who had put in the effort to help him through all the hurt. A sob caught in his throat as he stood, pain doubled all over his body as he left the body, his vision blurred by tears and blood dripping over his eye. He prayed to God, if there was one, that the poor guy at least had a good place to rest in his afterlife.
The highway was endless. Every time he turned around, he expected to see his captures chasing him but there was no one. All was quiet and for once, it bothered him. Tommy's shaking hands were covered in his and Sapnap's blood. Sapnap…He half expected to hear his footsteps chasing after at just the thought of him.
His face was grimy, covered in dirt, dry tears, and still dripping blood. His legs hurt so much, that his feet began to drag. No, he begged, no, he has to get to the city! See Tubbo and Ranboo! Hug them tight...see Wilbur and tell him everything. Never had Tommy wished to hug his brother more than recently. One last tight squeeze from the man who smelled like cigarettes and oil. His arms hung, limply at his sides as he blinked and squinted to see ahead.
"Come on," he spoke to himself, "come on, Tom, they'll be there! I need to..." his breath let go of his words and his legs gave out. Tommy's pale body met harshly with the concrete, barely able to catch himself in the fall.
"No, no, come on!" he shouted at himself, placing his hands on his side, lifting his body as he began to try and stand again but it was no use. Previous scars on him had reopened, previous cuts bled again through scabs, and his head wavered heavily. It hurt to even think but who else was going to encourage him? He crawled. By God, he crawled as much as he could on his hands and knees. His knees scraped more, and burning pain rushed through Tommy's body but he knew he couldn't give in. He would army crawl if he had to!
"I can't...stop," he heaved out, "I owe it..."
Devastatingly, his knees gave out and all the muscles in his body went slack or numb. All the nights with minimal food, water, and sleep finally crashed into him like a freight train. The loss of blood didn't help with the weakness either. Tommy began to cry again, his hope dissipating away, watching his tears hit the warm concrete below him. The sun had begun to fully set into the night and the empty highway allowed the teen to sob to himself.
"I'm sorry," he hiccuped, "I'm so sorry, guys. I can't do it. I just...Wilbur..."
"Tommy?"
The blonde's head whipped to look up, causing his head to ache but he fought through the pain with what little fight he had left. The lowering sun obscured his vision and he only saw a blacked-out figure but the voice was so familiar. The figure ahead broke into a sloppy run, his boots sliding against the concrete with his sudden haste.
"Oh my god...Tommy!" The quivering voice then had a face; the face of a grown man with stubble on his jawline and his brown hair stood wild. He wore broken circular glasses and a duster that flew behind him. Underneath was an old yellow sweater, a patch sewn on the chest. He could barely put a name to his face but once the man's hands lifted Tommy onto his numb knees, his mouth hung open in disbelief when he saw the eyes behind those glasses.
"Wilbur? Oh my god...Wilbur...!" Wilbur's hands tightened around Tommy's shoulders, his lips tightening as if he was holding back tears and his brown eyes went glassy. His fingerless gloved hands then cupped his little brother's face, a pained look in his eyes as he looked over his injured face.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Wilbur breathed out, his shoulders sputtering before he pulled his younger brother into a tight hug. Tommy's tears hit the shoulder of Wilbur's duster, his cries and sobs were muffled. He could hardly believe his brother was right there with him, it felt like a dream. He took in a shaking breath, smelling his brothers’ duster; cigarettes and death.
"Wilbur," Tommy's voice came out broken, "Wilbur, don't take me back!"
Wilbur pulled away, tears streaking down his dirty, unkempt face as he held Tommy by his shoulders. There was an unreadable look in Wilbur's eyes, even as they were downpouring tears. Then broke through the broken eyes was confidence. Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed; he seemed enraged.
"No," he whispered, "no, I won't. I won't take you back."
Tommy hadn't felt so relieved in ages. He even felt himself start to smile through his tears before he saw Wilbur's eyes looking behind the boy, shock-filled, replacing the anger that had been behind them. His face was mixing between many emotions but after a moment, it settled on anger. Wilbur hugged Tommy closer, a scowl on his lips as he adjusted his little brother's body to sit sideways against his chest. Tommy's head lulled, his vision still blurred but he sat frozen once he saw the smiling mask and ax.
"How sweet, a family reunion," Dream's voice was light but behind that was a sickening smile. He held out his hand to Wilbur.
"Thank you for catching my mouse, Wilbur, would you kindly hand him over?"
“Over my dead, rotten corpse,” Wilbur’s tone was grave and Tommy struggled to think if he’d ever seen his brother so angry. Dream froze for a second, as though it caught him off guard but after one look at Tommy, he knew why the man wasn’t giving him up.
“I know he looks broken and abused but he did that to himself, believe me.”
“You psycho! You fucking-!” Tommy’s voice reached its breaking point, high-pitched and scratchy and his voice fell with his hand that raised to point at his abuser. Tommy coughed, painfully, noticing the awful dryness taking over his mouth. Wilbur’s grip around his brother tightened, granting comfort and protection.
“You promised he was okay,” Wilbur’s eyes were downcast to the ground, “you told me he wasn’t going to be hurt!”
What?
Dream chuckled at that yet he still stood stiffly. He seemed careful around Wilbur like his brother was a wild bear. He did look like one, Tommy faintly smiled at his mental joke.
“Wilbur, you’re a fool,” Dream spoke flatly, “I said you and your little group of teenagers wouldn’t get hurt.”
“Tommy is a part of that,” Wilbur replied. Dream cocked his head as if he was looking for a way to catch Tommy’s brother off guard but the man was a wall with eyes all over.
“Deals off then, huh?” Dream questioned but it seemed he already knew the answer.
“No shit.”
Tommy couldn’t speak, all the words and questions he wanted out bubbled up and he heaved. This caused Wilbur to sling off the backpack he wore, watching the maniac feet away like an eagle as he unzipped it with one hand, taking out a large water bottle.
“Too bad, you guys have the best food.” Dream watched Wilbur uncap the water and carefully brought the bottle to his brothers’ lips, who eagerly glugged on the liquid like it was a lifeline. In a way, it was. Dream and Wilbur stared at each other until half of the large dirty bottle was gone and the oldest took the water away. He wasn’t sure how long Tommy had gone without water and food, he didn’t want to cause him to get sick under his condition. His little brother simply laid his head against his shoulder, breathing heavily.
“You know you’re not leaving here alive, right?” Dream questioned, the grip on his ax tightened. This earned a smirk from Wilbur as he put the bottle back in the ragged bag and he nodded.
“Or you aren’t.”
“I kill you, I take Tommy,” Dream hummed, “if you somehow win, well…do what you will.”
Wilbur’s free arm hooked under Tommy’s knees and he picked him up. The oldest brother kept an eye on his little brothers’ captor as he quickly walked to the side of the road and sat Tommy against the concrete wall. His guard went down for only a moment, seeing Tommy’s face bruised and bloody, which was drying. He put a gloved hand on Tommy’s pale cheek and anger returned in his brown eyes behind the large circular glasses.
“You stay awake as long as you can,” Tommy hadn’t even noticed his eyes were drooping until his brother said something, “I will win this.”
Tommy forced his eyes open, watching his brother stand and glide over to his backpack. He took out a crossbow made of metal and wood, colored brown and red.
“You’re gonna regret this,” Dream sounded as though he was smirking.
“I only regret trusting you.”
His brother lifted the crossbow and shot. Dream dodged quickly, going in to swing at the man who mocked his dodge and reloaded his weapon. Tommy struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision blackening around the fight and all he could think was how cool his big brother had become.
Wilbur heaved for air, his foot planted on the chest of the man who held his brother for so long. He could no longer feel his beating heart under his booted foot. The man yanked the smiling mask off, revealing the bruised and bloodied face of the other man. Wilbur pulled his crossbow shot out of the dead man's head and held the mask, triumphant. Quickly, he looked back to where he left his little brother, seeing the young blue eyes shut and head leaning back against the concrete half-wall behind him. Wilbur quickly threw his crossbow, ammo, and trophy in his bag and ran to him. He skidded on his knees, wincing in pain as he held two fingers to his little brothers’ neck, feeling the faintest of heartbeats. Although Wilbur was covered in ax slices and cuts, he knew he couldn’t rest. He noticed the sun starting to dip on the horizon and he swiftly rushed back to his backpack, zipped it up, and slung it on his shoulders. Then he picked up his brother, hooking an arm under his legs and back and the man began his journey back, hoping he made it back home in time.
The sun was almost down. No mutation had hit yet, none to the point of creating beasts of the night, but Wilbur knew the night was dangerous either way - especially since he hadn’t brought a flashlight. This wasn’t at all what he planned. Wilbur planned to catch Dream off guard with an early visit to give him his side of the deal; the water and food. He planned it so he could find his brother while the other three were distracted. He didn’t exactly plan anything that would come after but he figured it didn’t matter anymore.
His feet dragged but he walked as quickly as he could with the extra carry weight of a limp boy in his arms. The city reeked of blood and rotting flesh but the smells and sights were starting to become normal in his and others’ daily lives. Any zombies that came lumbering near were kicked away with a swift hit. The tall building blocked out the lowering sun, granting more darkness than desired but Wilbur was almost home.
He approached a building surrounded by wooden and metal spikes he and his little group set up months ago. He hiked up the stairs of the apartment building, peeking around corners in case any lingering zombies got around their traps and he hauled what little energy he had left to get to the only door with a light on. He told them to shut that damn thing off at night time but he simply gritted his teeth, pushing the lecturing for another day.
Wilbur got the door open and quickly closed it, the feeling of peering eyes on his back finally disappearing and he turned, seeing the living room empty besides the usual couches and dead TV. Wilbur looked in the kitchen right beside the living room, seeing the room empty too. He sighed, irritated but he had to realize that they were still teenagers, they wish for alone time.
“Get your asses down here!” He shouted, listening to the shuffling of feet above his head upstairs. The man laid his brother on the couch, flinging his duster and backpack off and tossing it on a lone chair next to the couch. He silently crouched down, a hand rested on the pale and bloodied forehead of his brother. He squinted at the unconscious face, noticing his little brother had pieces of stray hair growing out of his jawline and chin. Wasn’t he still so young? No…no, he got older.
“I can’t believe you tried to come back to us so many times,” Wilbur’s fingers went through the blonde hair, noticing the dirt in the mess, “I can’t believe I was an idiot…”
“Wilbur!” The man looked up, seeing two brunettes standing a few feet away behind the couch. Their line of sight was stopped at the couch - they didn’t see their missing friend yet. Tubbo, the shorter one, quickly rounded the corner, mumbling a question before it was quickly lost. He stared for a long while as if his mind was trying to decide if it was real or not but with a simple hand to his mouth, his mind had decided this was reality.
“Is that…?” Ranboo joined by his side, his eyes blanketed in confusion before being replaced with utter shock. Wilbur wished he could grant them as much time to gawk as he did but time was ticking.
“Go and get gauze and bandages. Especially pain meds,” The two looked at the man flabbergasted.
“We don’t have any here,” Ranboo said, looking at Tommy again like he was waiting for him to disappear.
“Then go find some outside!”
“Wilbur, it’s almost night!” Tubbo whined slightly. Wilbur stood, looking at the two like an unbreachable wall.
“Then we waste time and watch him die.” The two teens looked at each other before nodding hastily. They rushed to their weapons and left before Wilbur could blink. The man sighed, crouching again beside his brother. All feelings of guilt crashed on him at last; he felt like a true imbecile. He rested his head against the couch, choking back his apologies.
Days passed. Tommy lay on their couch, unconscious and now cleaned up and bandaged. Wilbur attempted to wake him up to at least give him water but he didn’t wake up. Every day, the older brother watched Ranboo and Tubbo come down the stairs, their eyes peering to find Tommy still there and still asleep. It was so obvious that they were scared he’d be gone again. Some days, Wilbur worried the same thing, even if the only man who wanted him was now dead.
Ranboo and Tubbo had seen Wilbur distraught before. The day Tommy was taken, he was enraged, baffled, and miserable. But since then, he was closed off; Wilbur protected them, worried that they too would get taken. He had ridiculous rules and parented them when his own father disappeared on them all right after Tommy was kidnapped. Sure, they agreed, Wilbur was an adult. He was supposed to take over the pack but Tubbo and Ranboo didn’t like that he took charge so quickly and shut his feelings away. He was a ticking time bomb some days. With all of this, the sight of Wilbur crouched beside the couch, neglecting food and sleep, his head laid on Tommy’s side, shoulders shuddering as he muttered apologies put the two in a spiral of worry. Not only for their best friend but for the man who had taken charge since his father left them all.
The next night fell after so many others. Wilbur sat on the small chair next to the couch where Tommy lay, watching his little brothers’ chest rise and fall faintly. He wondered if he was fighting death as Ranboo came up, peeking around the couch to check on Tommy before he looked at Wilbur.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey.” Wilbur fixed his glasses on his face, wiping away remnants of tears.
“Have you eaten?” Ranboo looked towards their kitchen, seeing nothing touched other than things to cook for him and Tubbo. He already knew the answer.
“Don’t worry about me, Ranboo,” Wilbur waved a hand, dismissively.
“We both do, you need to take care of yourself too,” the tall brunette said, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt.
“What’s the point in taking care of myself after being so ignorant?” the look in the man’s eyes darkened as he looked at the ground beneath Ranboo’s feet. The boy gritted his teeth, nervously.
“I don’t know what happened,” Ranboo said, mulling over his words slowly, “but Tommy would want you to take care of yourself…Because he’s going to need you.”
Wilbur’s teeth clenched as he looked at his brother and he slowly nodded. Then he smiled up at Ranboo.
“Thanks, I needed that,” Wilbur stood, not waiting for a reply as he got to the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry but he knew he’d turn up like Tommy if he didn’t eat. What good would he be then? Ranboo, hesitantly, escaped back upstairs, and Wilbur assumed he was going to tell Tubbo their mentor was eating again. Wilbur reached into the cabinet and yanked out an unexpired can of beans.
He then heard a loud thud come from the couch before he could even open the can. Wilbur rushed back, finding Tommy on the floor and wide awake. Hastily, the boy looked around, utterly terrified.
“Tommy!” The man ran and bent down to his brothers' side, seeing the familiar blue eyes relax a bit.
“Wilbur! Where are we?” Tommy’s arm instinctively came up and touched his bandaged head. This caused his entire body to shudder and wince. All at once, the lack of water and food hit again and he was shaking and blacking out once more.
“You’re at our home, come on. Let’s get you back on the couch,” Wilbur helped his brother back on the couch, watching Tommy look around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Don’t move so much. I’ll go get you food,” Wilbur rushed back to the kitchen, grabbing the can of beans he got for himself and pulling water out of his bag that now sat on the kitchen table. With a snap, the can was opened. The older brother went back to Tommy, whose head was resting on the back of the couch, eyes wavering.
“Don’t eat too fast,” Once Tommy’s eyes landed on the can and water, he snatched them away and Wilbur’s advice died away as the boy chomped and glugged. Wilbur predicted right; Dream had neglected to give him food. Tommy was overdramatic at times but no one can act out true desperation for food, the hungry look in his eyes and quickly shoveling beans into his mouth. Soon enough, the can was empty, which got a whining reaction from Tommy. The boy brought up the can, wiggling it slightly as he desperately looked at Wilbur.
“Do you have more?” He questioned. The older brother grabbed the can.
“We do, but you’re not having more yet. You could get sick if you eat too much.” the younger brother whined but didn’t fight it as he listened to the boots of his brother walk back to the kitchen. He held the water bottle in his hands, watching the water move in its container and his brain suddenly clicked.
“‘Our’?” Tommy questioned, his head perking up.
“What?” Wilbur asked, sounding confused.
“You said, ‘you’re at our home,’”, Tommy turned to look at his brother over the couch, seeing him suddenly smiling, “who else is here, Wilbur?”
“Take a guess.”
Tommy threw the water bottle on the couch and rushed towards the stairs, hearing Wilbur’s protests behind him.
“Tubbo! Ranboo?” He called, looking at the doors in front of him in the empty hall. One quickly opened to show Tubbo’s confused face. Then it turned into shock then happiness. Pure excitement at seeing Tommy moving and animated.
“Holy shit!” Tubbo left the room quickly and before he could blink, Tommy crashed into him at full force, causing the two to fall on the wooden ground with a loud thump. This didn’t matter, however, and the two were laughing as Ranboo could only watch with a smile as Wilbur finally made it up the stairs. He smiled at the wholesome scene before he had to say anything.
“Alright, let’s get Tommy back downstairs, he needs rest,” Tubbo stood while Tommy stared up at the ceiling with a giant smile on his face, still lying there. Some time passed with the silence before he spoke again.
“I can’t get up.”
After hauling Tommy back to the couch and the three teens catching up on their ‘end of the world’ lives, sitting next to Tommy on the couch, Wilbur explained everything to his little brother. The dreaded deal. He made a deal with Dream because Dream saw how frantic he was to get Tommy back so the man used his brother against him. Against his better judgment, Wilbur fell into the puppeteers’ hands and was played like a damn fiddle. Wilbur was his little servent, growing food on the roof, finding water when he could, and grabbing other items the three beckoned for. Each time, Wilbur wanted to see Tommy and each time, Dream said ‘next time’. Wilbur told Tommy his plan to find him the day they reunited, how he was sick of being denied and used. Tommy sat still for a long time, his eyes unreadable as there sat an uncomfortable silence.
“Tommy, I know it was a mistake,” Wilbur kept eye contact, “I knew he was a monster but I never predicted he would…”
Memories flooded back, straining the younger brother’s head that began to ache. All the pain, all the torture, all the escapes. Yet, here he was, thriving while Dream is…wait…
“What happened to Dream?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, looking at Ranboo and Tubbo, who now seemed curious as well. The man huffed, standing. He walked to his bag, yanked out the mask, and walked back, tossing it to Tommy. The dreadful smiling mask was cracked and damaged, broken. It clicked - Dream was dead.
Tommy’s lips quivered as he let out shudders of breaths before he slowly breathed in. He could only nod at the message. Silence blanketed them again. Tommy forgave Wilbur, although it was hard to yet he knew Wilbur didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.
“Is it safe here?” Tommy questioned, looking at his friends and brother. They all nodded, although Tubbo chuckled.
“Well, unless you count the hoards of dead people.”
“I almost forgot they existed,” Ranboo gently smiled. Wilbur rolled his eyes, jokingly.
“You forget a lot of things.” The room was filled with light-hearted laughter. The laughter Tommy missed, the laughter he chased, the laughter that kept him going. Tommy found his own laughing die with a loud sob and the others died alongside it. Worried eyes on the boy that had begged for this moment.
“I missed you guys,” he breathed out, tears streaming down his face, “so much.”
“We missed you too, man,” Tubbo replied, wrapping an arm around his friend as a side hug. Wilbur stood from his seat, grabbing Tommy’s hands once he was in front of his brother.
“You’re safe here. We won’t leave you alone, not again.”
Tommy broke down even more and hugged his brother tightly. Finally, he thought, finally. It wasn’t a happy ending but he finally got his new start. This was all he needed.