Chapter Text
Tommy wakes up on the sofa in Bad’s living room with a pounding headache that scatters his thoughts.
He groans and attempts to drag himself out of his makeshift bed- (with great effort, might he add.) -but fails. He lets out an exasperated sigh and leans his head further into his pillow, reaching up a hand to massage between his brows.
Tommy’s body is still emitting that ‘ I’ve just woken up’ heat from being in the same position for hours and it does nothing if not to add more fuel to his headache.
There is no way on planet earth that he is going to go and train with Purpled after being stabbed a little over three days ago. There’s also no way that he’s getting out of this bed for the foreseeable like, hour or two.
Draping an arm over his closed eyes, he wishes for sleep to take him under once again.
✵
Tommy doesn’t exactly know how he came to be. If he had parents, he certainly didn’t remember them, and he certainly didn’t care anymore if they were dead or alive. They more than likely threw him out to the streets once his power had developed, in Tommy’s own opinion.
He never needed anyone.
He didn't have anyone to clothe him, or feed him, or comfort him or hold him close on the harsh winter nights- and it hurt when he was younger, sure, but as he grew older and any memory of his mothers arms holding him tight faded away, so did the hurt.
He accepted this life. He would fight tooth and nail to survive until he either somehow turned his rags to riches- although ‘riches’ wasn’t the right word to describe Tommy’s desires.
In reality, his heart would ache painfully as he watched families drag their children along, a father swinging his daughter up to sit on his shoulders to see above the swarms of people, a whole, complete pair of parents, a father and mother swinging their child up into the air by their arms as if they were at a playground- that’s all he really wanted. A family. A home. A normal fucking life.
But beggars can’t be choosers.
He still remembers rather vividly how he met Dream.
Dream had still only been a teenager, sprouting into adulthood as he peered around the warehouse Tommy was staying in. He had bared his teeth, growled and even attempted to bite the foreigner in the home that he had built for himself. Dream had only laughed then, eyes swimming with mirth as he watched the young child hiss and scratch at him like some kind of street cat.
“Are you hungry?” Those were the first words Dream had spoken to him, the start of a timeline that would only begin to tumble downhill from here. Tommy looked at him, bright blue eyes practically covered by a dip of his dark, unkempt brows, a fierce look crossing his young features.
“No.” Tommy had spat out, he had gotten up from his makeshift bed then, standing at the feet of the teenager who looked down on him with a warm grin, a showing of teeth that had not yet turned angry, frightening and cruel.
Dream crouched down, looking at the angry child with considerate emerald green eyes that Tommy refused to admit looked as though they were sparkling in the yellow sunshine that poured in from a hole in the roof.
“Come on, kid. I’m sure you’d like, I don’t know, a burger or something, from this really cool diner I know that’s near here.” Dream tried, attempting to nudge Tommy in the shoulder, only for him to leap backwards the moment the hand approached him.
“Hey, hey. Don’t worry, it’s ok. We can go there together.” Dream spoke softly. Nobody had ever spoken to him that way, with such gentleness Tommy had only ever heard coming from a mother when her child had tripped and fallen in the playground.
Maybe that’s why he had taken Dream’s hand that day.
Maybe that’s why every night he tosses and turns and begs the question; “Was this the worst mistake of my entire life?”
Dream sat across from him at the diner. Back against a dark, wood panelled wall that had various brightly coloured drawings, pictures and paintings sprawled across it from floor to ceiling. Tommy had stated so hard at the drawings to avoid looking at Dream’s face that he could still recall the one that had captured his interest.
“What are you thinking about?” Dream looked behind him, regarding the drawing that Tommy was thinking about for a moment or two, an unreadable emotion crossing his face before he turned back around to face Tommy.
“None of your business, green freak.” Dream barked out sudden laughter that made Tommy jump, his eyes immediately darting from the drawing to Dream’s face, picking out every detail as the teenager laughed.
He had light freckles dotted across his nose that curled up around his eyes but didn’t stretch any further. He was pretty tan, as if he were on holiday. Tommy had always seen people that looked like him lounging about on a beach far far away on magazine covers that blew past him on cold days. Dark, sandy hair that parted messily atop his head.
In Tommy's expert opinion, he was a rather unremarkable, regular old teenage boy.
The only irregular thing about him, though, was his power.
Infact, Dream had been very interested in Tommy’s own power, asking him questions about his specialty that could have seemed rather invasive when looked at from a different perspective.
“What’s your power?” Tommy questioned, chewing on a burger that looked gargantuan in his small hands. Tommy had never been inside a diner before, and he certainly never had a burger either. There was always a lingering possibility that he could’ve, before he was cast aside by his parents or whoever took care of him when he was a toddler.
Well, it’s not like he would’ve remembered the taste. This burger right now was pretty good for a first time.
“Do you really want to know?” Dream had leaned closer to him, hand covering his mouth in a whisper. Tommy eagerly nodded, wondering how great his power could be if he had whispered about it.
“Watch this.” Dream’s prideful grin returned as he stared intensely at Tommy's burger, until it began to rise from his hands, an ebbing green haze that looked almost like fine sand surrounded it, dark in colour as it rose higher and higher from Tommy’s grasp. The powers felt warm and cold all at once as the green brushed against his small hands.
“Woah.” Tommy breathed out, tilting his head back to watch the burger float higher and higher- but the odd show of powers ended quicker than it had started. His burger dropped down to his plate, disturbing its contents as a tomato fell to the chequered floor.
“What’s your power?” Dream questioned, watching him with intent as Tommy hummed, chewing the last bite of his burger. “It’s not as great as yours.” Tommy lifted his index finger and pointed it at one of the overhead lights next to them. The light flickered and grew brighter and brighter, beginning to fill their little corner with excess light- until it popped.
“That’s it.” Tommy shrugged, not bothering to look for a reaction as he turned back to his burger. “That’s a really unique power.” Dream hummed, taking a sip of his water that had been served in a retro style red cup.
“I can teach you to make your power as great as mine, though.”
Tommy perked, eyes wide and studious as he glanced at Dream’s bare face drawing back a fry that was halfway to his mouth. “Really?” Dream nodded, humming, finger tapping a dull rhythm against the plastic and metal table.
“You can be like my little protogé! Wouldn’t that be cool?” Dream leaned back in his seat, regarding Tommy like a predator would his prey. Tommy nodded eagerly, but suddenly slapped the table as his chair began to tip over in his rush of excitement.
“Whoops.” He had smiled sheepishly. “I’ll be your pro-toe-shay. It sounds fun.” Dreams smile widened impossibly. Tommy, to this day, still wasn’t sure if that was the worst decision of his life.
Tommy isn’t one to lie, so as his new ‘ home’ came into view over the hill, the first words to slip out of his mouth were: “ What the fuck…?” With as much of a deadpan as a young child could muster. Dream had barked out a startled laugh, but had assured him it looked a lot less abandoned on the inside then it did on its exterior.
A mansion, was what it could originally have been described as, but it looked significantly more weather and dilapidated at this time. The dark brown wood had rotted and fallen off long ago, it’s previous dark, forest green paint had chipped off and bleached by the harsh sun. The garden was overgrown, so much so that Tommy could get lost in the grass that reached far above his head.
Dream helped him climb the holey, rickety steps up onto the porch- and Tommy was feeling more nervous than ever, his common sense kicking in way too late for him to save himself.
He turned the golden handle and pushed open the brown door that had the most beautiful stained glass picture of two roses, and true to his word, it looked a lot less abandoned on the inside. Just. Dusty. Extremely dusty.
Tommy began sneezing up a storm, blindly following Dream in a tour of the house as dust made his eyes well up with tears.
At first, Dream was completely normal. Caring , even. Kind, protective and sweet. Tommy had finally felt wanted. Someone appreciated his company, cherished his new loyalty and listened to his little ramblings of whatever interest his young mind in the moment.
But- Dream began to switch. When they began training, it was like he was a completely different person. Analysisying Tommy’s every move as if he was a butterfly, pinned down and examined under a magnifying glass, ready to be hung and displayed. He furrowed his brows, shook his head and kissed his teeth each time Tommy failed to direct his growing electrical powers- and it made him wilt.
Tommy was quick to find out that there were more than just Dream.
In actuality, Dream had some kind of organisation. He had tried to keep Tommy for it, to prevent the boys easily distractible attention from swaying from putting his powers to good use. But of course, his lackeys constantly needed direction from their leader- which (not very unfortunately) led to some of them needing discipline .
Tommy wasn’t exempt from such things.
He had been with Dream for almost a year at this point, his height and power growing with each passing day- he had grown to the point where Dream had just begun to consider sending him on his first mission.
Well, before his official ‘first mission’ Dream had brought him to the warehouse. Ensuring that by living on his own from time to time would help him to be stronger, so one day, he could maybe help take down the heroes all on his own. Foolishly, Tommy believed him like he always does, and quelled the tears that appeared more often than not when nights got cold and he wished for nothing more to be back inside that rickety old house.
On the odd days or weeks that Tommy was allowed back to ‘ headquarters’ it was never for no reason at all- Dream, the cunning bastard he is, always had something in mind.
Tommy rested his head on the odd bar/island/table directly in front of the kitchen, distantly wondering if one of the hanging cabinets above him would fall on his head. He must’ve been around nine at this time, but the memory was thankfully quite fuzzy, so he wasn’t exactly sure.
It was a hot day. Humid air leaked through the cracks between the wooden planks of the house, and Tommy couldn’t seem to shirk the feeling that he had been rung dry, all dregs of moisture absorbed by the sweltering heat.
Even the countertop that he laid his head against lacked any sort of coolness.
Dream had stormed in, sometime after Tommy’s thoughts had been stretched out into nothingness, bored overtaking the emptiness in waves. He had barely lifted his head, not wanting to be the target of his mentor’s sudden anger.
“ And what exactly do you think you’re doing, Tommy?” He called out from behind him, looming over the child like some vengeful god.
Too late.
“Nothing.” Tommy mumbled, digging his head deeper into his resting arms, leaving one little blue eye to stare out aimlessly to the blank green wall.
“ ‘Nothing’ Huh?” Dream suddenly yanked Tommy up by the arm, Tommy yelled, rising to his feet immediately for fear of Dream ripping his arm out of its socket.
He blinked. Totally confused. “ Dream? What’s wrong?” He tilted his head, eyes scanning over his mentor for any hints as to why he was suddenly so mad. “ You should be training. Using your time wisely. And what are you doing? Sitting here doing nothing? ” He squeezed Tommy’s wrist with bone-breaking pressure.
“ I- I'm sorry! I just-“ Tommy stumbled over his words, shaking his head with wide eyes. “ You know what,” Dream let go of Tommys hand suddenly, stepping away from the boy and taking a fighting stance. “ Let’s train. Right now.” Tommy’s mouth flew open, but he quickly blinked and schooled his shocked expression.
Dream swung first, and Tommy, in all of his shock, didn’t bring his arms up to defend himself. Dream hit him. Hard. Tommy’s body fell to the ground with a loud thud.
He groaned, rubbing the back of his head. Had Dream really just hit him? Like actually fully raised his hand against him under the guise of ‘ training’?
“ What the fuck…? ” Tommy murmured, sitting up as he watched Dream loom over him from the dusty, dirty floors. “ That’s exactly what happens when you’re too lazy to work towards our goal, Tommy.” Dream spat at him- physically spat. Tommy rested backwards, mouth still slightly open- unsure of what to think of Dream’s unusual outburst. “Now get up, we’ve got real training to do.”
Dream’s so-called ‘Real training’ also included his first time interacting with the heroes. Tommy didn’t even early understand what he was doing at the time- he had just turned eleven, having spent two years learning about what exactly Dream’s ‘organisation’ was and the type of work they do, Dream thought it fit for him to be thrown out to the big wide world on his first ever mission.
That mission being:
Steal the Commissioner Of Manburg’s Stash of Jewels That He Keeps In His Safe.
Perfectly safe and fine for an eleven-year-old. Right?
Breaking in wasn’t a difficult job. Tommy had learned to control his powers well enough that he had been able to disconnect every security camera within the Commissioner’s home and the surrounding area with ease. He was all on his lonesome, after all, and he did not want an earful from Dream or a beating if he failed his first ever mission.
Tommy didn’t think he had ever been inside such a fancy house- the back door had an easily friable lock on it, he slipped inside without any sound whatsoever. Well, except for the ticking of an old grandfather clock resting comfortably in the corner of the Commissioners rather large living room. Tommy took it upon himself to stretch out on the soft, disgustingly lime green cushions of his conversation pit before starting the mission.
A small, barely recognisable twinge of envy flickered in his heart.
Dream was rich, wasn’t he? He had a whole fucking organisation, a house that he had paid off all the neighbours to keep spreading the lie that it was ‘ abandoned’ and Tommy had heard from a loose-lipped lackey that Deeam was even creating a base under the city.
Yet he still couldn’t get Tommy a mattress. He wasn’t asking for a lot, just maybe not to be waking up with acute back pain every morning at his young age from sleeping on blankets piled atop the floor.
But Tommy shook his head and told himself the age-old lie: “He promised me he would- he’s just busy.”
He took one last sorrowful look ag the comfortable cushions before standing up and wiping his muddy boots on the shag carpet- just an extra fuck you to this rich fucker and his horrifically bad taste.
Tommy snooped around in the fridge, under the sink, and even looked at some of the Commissioners family pictures and ‘ little league’ games won by his children for a little too long before moving on upstairs.
Sure, Tommy could be rather heavy-footed when he wanted to, but when it came to serious missions, even Dream would forget he was even there.
He counted the doors mentally, recalling which one Dream had said the Commissioners office was behind, and so too- was his safe.
The fourth door down the hallway revealed a quaint little standard office. Brown desk with a large chair behind it, lamp in one corner, a vibrant green plant in the other, bookshelves lining either wall but leaving the floor to ceiling windows open with their fluttering orange curtains.
Wow. This guy really loved a 60’s themed house!
Tommy nearly vomited.
Holding his sudden nausea at all the green, yellow, reds and oranges, he located the safe right behind a fake shelf of books. Low and behold, there was the Commissioners trove of glittering jewels, in all the colours of the rainbows, and none below the price range of one million dollars.
Though Tommy’s silent joy of finding what he came here for was short lived, as he heard the cocking of a gun come from the door.
“ Close the safe, and turn around. ” He heard the Commissioner's hard voice come from behind him. Tommy tentatively raised his hands tilting his head at the man before him, much like Dream had done for him for years.
“ You’re not going to get what you came here for, criminal. The heroes are on their way right now. ” Tommy could finally hear the quiver of fear beneath that steady voice. He rolled his eyes beneath his mask.
“ Yeah. Whatever, geezer. ‘S not like they can stop me anyway.” Tommy shrugged, taking the jewels and stuffing them into the bag that Dream had supplied him. He suddenly got the mental picture of himself dressed in a white and black striped jumper, a black beanie and an odd eye mask. God, he really did look like a stereotypical robber with this stupid bag.
“ Stop it. Or I will be forced to shoot you.” The Commissioner shouted, jerking his gun in Tommy’s direction. “ Hey listen man, I can see the chamber. The gun’s empty. Forget your bullets,eh?” Tommy didn’t look up from grabbing the jewels. “ It’s alright. We can’t all remember the step-by-step plan for stopping a criminal, right?” Tommy sneered, pushing past the Commissioner and waltzing down the stairs.
The man shook, gun dropping from his hands as he watched Tommy descend the stairs as if he owned the house he had just stolen millions from.
The front door burst open- ‘ so that fucking fossil wasn’t lying. ’ Tommy laughed to himself, trying to quell the oncoming waves of panic as the two heroes- Warden and Atlantis stepped inside the house.
“ Well. This was nice, but it’s time to go.” Tommy said aloud before promptly booking it to the window.
He landed on the grass with a crash, bag still safely in his clutches as he darted back towards the city that he knew like the back of his hand. He was confident that should the heroes follow him, he could lose them in the alleyways and on rooftops within 5 minutes.
“ Oh yeah! Check on that senior, would y’? He must be taking a heart attack from all the stress on the landing.” Tommy called after the heroes who watched him menacingly and silently from the front porch. Tommy ran backwards for a second, solidifying the sight of the two heroes in his mind before turning and darting for the nearest alleyway.
That wasn’t the first and last time he would see the pair, though. They had been tasked with keeping tabs on him, he wasn’t so dangerous yet, Tommy hadn’t even engaged in any real combat yet, so the heroes had no gauge on how strong he really was. Sure, they knew he was young enough, but age didn’t matter when it came down to hand-to-hand battle, it was skill.
And boy had Dream taught Tommy some serious fucking skill.
The first time Tommy had ever had any combat with anyone other than Dream, was none other than Sapnap himself. Well, Tommy only knew him as the enemy Eclipse, at this point.
He was creeping towards his twelfth birthday, lucky enough to only have some close shaves with The Warden, and to come back to the base sopping wet after somehow avoiding yet another battle with Atlantis. But, he had fooled himself into thinking that The Warden and Atlantis were the only heroes that had taken notice of him- until Eclipse literally lit up the entire warehouse.
It was simple: open an uncrackable safe, surrounded by hundreds of guards and ‘ not use your powers’ . Ok, so in probability terms- he was fucked, he would be thrown in Pandora and never be seen again. That was ironic, I mean, he ended up in special confinement anyway, so what was all the worry about?
He perched on the slippery tin sheets that protected the warehouse from the elements, watching the guards idly shuffle around inside through a conveniently placed skylight. Clipping his harness to an unreliable bar next to the skylight, he popped the glass without a sound and slowly lowered himself inside.
It was kinda cool, really. If he has been allowed to watch any spy films, Tommy would be pretty sure he fit the bill. His whole get up was black, rubber, and pretty fucking silent- and he had some goggles and a mask covering his eyes.
He sat half crossed legged on top of the safe, pulling one knee close to his chest and resting his chin atop it. He watched the guards sniffle and cough in the aching silence of the warehouse, unaware of an eleven-year-old sitting on the one thing they had sworn their lives to protect.
One guard turned slightly, seeing his tilted head in the corner of their eye, they whipped around, drawing their gun within a second.
“ Heeeeyyy fellas! Nice night we’re having, ey?” Tommy announced his presence to every remaining guard that hadn't sensed the coming commotion. Each and every single one of their barrels pointed directly at his temple. “ Now, calm down. Let’s all take a chill pill, and go around in a circle until none of you can tell me the code to this safe!” Tommy grinned beneath his mask, putting as much enthusiasm behind his words as he possibly could.
“ Oh! Even better! Here,” Tommy took an old, small, worn-out blue ball from one of his pockets. Who can blame him? He liked playing with the street dogs. “A talking ball! When you’re holding this ball, only you can talk, alright boys?” He tossed the ball to the nearest guard.
“ What’s your best educated guess?” Tommy hooked his fingers underneath his chin. “ Uh.. 11037?” They shrugged. The other guards groaned loudly, some shaking and placing their hands on their heads. “Ooh… tough crowd, man.” Tommy hissed through his teeth. “Ok, next one!”
The ball was tossed to a guard on Tommy’s left. “AB1C3?” They shrugged. Tommy let out a startled laugh at the answer. “Are you serious? Last time I checked, a safe’s keypad doesn’t have letters, stupid.” Tommy sensed the guard frown beneath their masks.
“Hey-“
Suddenly the whole warehouse seemed to be alight, until Tommy realised that the light was coming from an unbearable heat above him.
“I knew they shouldn’t have put incompetent fuck-wads like y’all guarding the safe!” The hero, Eclipse, spat. His flames reduced to small embers crawling up his black undershirt. “Woah, woah! Stop the hate train pyromaniac! These hard working guys are doing the best they can.” Tommy shook his head, uncrossing his legs and standing upright on top of the wobbly safe.
“Move.” Eclipse barked, the guards scrambled out of the way of his oncoming fire. Tommy’s eyes widened, not expecting the young hero to go all out so soon. He did a backflip off of the safe, landing into a roll as a vortex of fire just missed his hair. (Read: Tommy’s hair definitely lit on fire and he was furiously patting it out at that moment.)
Tommy peeked his head over the safe to see Eclipse watching him like a hawk, flames shooting up his arms. Tommy shivered involuntarily. He better finish this quickly, getting hit by flames that hot would hurt- bad.
“Stop hiding, hero, before you get hurt. This fight is over.” Eclipse slowly raised the temperature in the room, waving the guards out of the warehouse.
Tommy rolled his eyes, mouthing what Eclipse had said, he moved his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders back against the safe as he pulled out his signature gun, covered in little neon drawings he had marked it with many years ago. It was sleek, the weight was familiar and Tommy knew he wouldn’t miss as long as he used this gun.
He moved out from the side of the safe, Eclipse locking onto him instantaneously. “ Don’t even!-“ Tommy fired the gun, the neon blue bullet ripping through the air and lodging into the hero's shoulder.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Tommy didn’t hesitate to shoot another three bullets in between Eclipse’s ribs, clearly catching a lung by the hero’s flames flickering and a clear wheezing filling the eerie silence after the bullets were shot.
While shoving his gun back into its holster, the flames that once were flickering embers were alight in such intensity. Tommy practically dove back behind the safe, hissing when its metal casing dripped onto his costume.
Tommy hissed a quiet “fuck!” through his teeth, looking over at his damaged costume, which was…getting darker? Hang on- Tommy looked down at the ground to see Eclipse’s flaming shadow looming over him, eyes ablaze with fury as he struggled with his wounds.
He threw the safe to the side, Tommy was quick on his feet and jumped into a back-handspring to get away from the hero’s sudden onslaught of flaming anger. The safe popped open as it hit the ground, it’s glittering guts spilling open on the rather plain floor, compared to the jewels' beauty.
Eclipse huffed out an actual plume of smoke through his nostrils like a dragon as he raised his hands, ready to shoot at the criminal. Tommy tilted his head. It was kinda like him when he literally uses too much steam until it escapes his mouth or nose.
Maybe this was the first time he realised that the heroes weren’t so different to him, over something as small as steam.
“Alright, you little bitch. No more pussy-footing. You’re going to Pandora.” Eclipse said in a strange accent. If Tommy had seen any cowboy movies, he probably would’ve said Eclipse resembled one. “Hey! I like that, that’s a good word. ‘Pussy-footing.’ ‘M gonna use that.” Tommy nodded, putting his hands on his hips like he was taunting the hero. “Oh no you fucking won’t-“
Eclipse sprinted towards him, fist raised in the air and poised to hit Tommy square in the nose. Tommy panicked- he had never been in any real fights until now. But he had to win. Or Dream would be disappointed in him.
Tommy yelped, dropping down into a crouch, immediately taking his chance to swing for Eclipse’s stomach. The hero doubled over, Tommy feared for a moment that they would empty their midnight snack onto the floor, but he quickly sprinted towards the safe and scooped up as much as he could- but not enough.
“Fuck!” Eclipse shouted, chasing Tommy in a circle around the warehouse as he cackled, swooping down to pick up what he could, before his hand closed around a roll of paper.
He thought back to what Dream had specified that he had to steal- lest he be given a punishment. “Wow, Tommy! You are so cool and awesome, I should’ve never called you a failure and a disappointment to me! You are the poggest, most biggest man ever and you also have to steal this roll of paper for no specific reason!!”
Oh yes- this roll of paper!
Tommy reached for a half grappling hook, half strange futuristic technology (that he has no idea where Dream got the funds for) pulley thing attached to his belt and shot it at the skylight.
Giving it one firm tug, he lifted himself up and avoided Eclipse’s sudden dive for him, enjoying the sight of the hero landing flat on his face while he walked away almost entirely unscathed.
But, after such an encounter- Tommy decided it was a safe bet to avoid Sapnap like the plague.
Later, while taking his well-earned peace on an apartment building rooftop, he unrolled the paper. Some lousy blueprints? Tommy sighed. Dream really made him nearly get fried to a crisp from some useless blueprints.
He just wondered what they were for.
✵
Most of Tommy’s days as a blooming teenager were spent on rooftop ledges. He would lay on his back and watch the clouds drift by, thinking about anything and everything, but mostly what government building he would deface next.
Using graffiti to piss off the heroes was definitely one of his most annoying ideas, but to Tommy, it was the magnum opus of his villain career.
I mean, just imagine rocking up to work, loving life, loving your wife and kids and your amazing, well paid government job- just to see the front of the building covered in a rather demeaning illustration of a bright, neon green zombie in all its guts and glory tainting your beautiful piece of work.
Sure, it was silly and childish, but what else could he do? Dream didn’t allow him any friends. It wasn’t like he was going to make any anyway, everyone in Dream's weird organisation were way older than him, and were disallowed from talking to him about anything other than work-related.
But it’s ok!
The best part of Tommy’s week was watching a new hero find themselves drawn rather embarrassingly, and trying to prove to their coworkers that “What the fuck? My ass is not that saggy…” “Icing myself to the floor is stupid.” and even on the occasion, “I know what 9+10 is- I’d never ask my Alexa that!”
He could feel weightless joy just by darting across rooftops, watching the clouds crawl by and watching the hero’s laugh, cry and scream at his immature drawings. Watch them struggle to clean his drawings off, slipping on the soapy water and ultimately giving up, or doing a half-assed job. He could almost feel like he was there with them, feeling their embarrassment, annoyance, good-spirits and laughter.
But he could never join them.
Dream- Dream would never allow it- he’d be kicked to the curb again and never forgiven. And then what would he have? No home? Have to crawl back to him? Begging for forgiveness?
I mean.. that’s what he thought.
Those stupid papers he was given instructions to steal years ago meant nothing. Right? Dream would never - he could never send him on such a dangerous mission, one that could end up with him dying? Like, seriously for real dying.
“Tommy.” Tommy had seen this scene a thousand times before in his nightmares, usually the ground would open up beneath him, or Dream would encase him in his powers like some butterfly under a magnifying glass- “I’m your friend, right? You trust me.”
And Tommy would roll his eyes, watching Dream with tired eyes as the digital clock in the warehouse moved to the time ‘ 9:19’ even
“Yes, Dream. What’s up with you man? Did you hit your head or something?” He would respond with his usual snark, smile fading as he heard Dream kiss his teeth.
“You’re my brother, right?” Dream stepped forward, laying his hands on either side of Tommy’s shoulders- prickling and hot, as if his hands were made of iron, permanently branding him with each brush of contact.
“What?” Blood rushed to his ears, unsure of what to do next. Dream tilted his head like a hawk stalking its prey- green gaze cold and calculating- as always. Tommy was never sure if a glance from a ‘brother’ should ever be this unloving.
Dream’s next few words seemed to drown out, static filling Tommy’s ears. He was doing something. Walking around him in a circle, pretending like whatever his next decision was was his own. And…
Dream held out a knife to him.
He so very desperately wished to shut his eyes like a child, shove his fingers in his ears and shout until his voice grew hoarse. But he couldn’t. Because Dream had a knife. And was asking something impossible.
“Don’t fail.”
And that’s exactly what he has done, isn’t it?
He failed.
Something so clear to him now, not to be seen yet by the same person, although younger, who had been tricked by Dream’s powers yet again- the knife was in the ventriloquist's stomach, the world was sliding and Tommy watched blood be spilled by his own hands..
Or.. Dream’s hands?
He could see it.
The same green smoke winding around each of his fingers like some kind of poisonous vine, making him stab the very same person who had been controlling him all these years.
It was like a mantra “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ” “Don’t disappoint him. ”
It was so fucking stupid.
Of course, Dream was like a cancer. Unable to be cut out, sticking to his brain since he had barely moved on from toddlerhood.
That tackle? The ‘thundering footsteps”?
Dream had been pulling the physical strings, moving him like some living puppet, making Tommy stab him over and over and over with those sickening green strings, a haze over him with unfocused blue eyes- sending him to another hell.
A hell where he would taste true love for the first time.
A hell where he would be welcomed with open arms, a warm hug and a literal fresh start.
A hell where people loved Tommy. Not Matrix. A stupid fourteen year old who had been mindlessly controlled by a monster.
Then it was all ripped out from under his feet.
Nowhere was safe from the fiery pits of guilt and sin, right?
And now he had served himself up on a silver plate for the devil himself. Again.
“Don’t disappoint him” ?
What a fucking joke.
I mean, what else was being controlled by Dream?
This nightmare?
✵
Tommy jolted awake, throwing himself upwards- sweat making his clothes stick to his skin and hair plastered onto his forehead.
Jesus, what was that?
He twisted around, hissing at a crick in his neck as he looked at the clock in Bad’s kitchen. It was well past noon- nearly 3 o’clock in the afternoon.
“Fuck.” Tommy hissed, shaking his head and quickly pulling his clothes on. He needed a shower, ASAP.
But first, he had to stumble his way to the strange meeting room. Despite his better judgement, Tommy actually did need help from Purpled to help progress to the standard he was at before all the hero business. He wasn’t going to be useless and weigh everybody down. He was a good fighter- that was undeniable. He just needed a little… help getting back to it.
Potentia was one of two things- loud and bustling as 500 people went about their days and prepared for…something? Or, eerily, bone-chillingly silent.
Today was the latter.
Tommy could hear his own footsteps echo across the walls, bouncing over the stone as he fast walked to where he knew the meeting room was. Potentia’s cave base was big, and Tommy wasn’t so keen on getting lost exploring just yet.
Tommy turned the corner, slowing in his fast-paced walk as he caught sight of a familiar head of wild, unruly white curls. He scowled, not bothering to conceal the displeasure of seeing Puffy again.
“Matrix!” She smiled as cheerily as ever, leaning against the wall next to the large metal door.
“Puffy.” Tommy kept his tone clipped. Puffy’s brows furrowed, a frown settling on her face. “You’re not still mad about the last time we spoke, are you?” She said in a gentle voice, almost passive aggressive in a way. Tommy didn’t reply. “You know, I was only trying to help you, I wasn’t trying to be invasive by asking you some questions.”
“ Sure. ” Tommy drawled, sceptical of what Puffy was trying to convey. “What’s going on in there?” Tommy gestured to the closed metal door.
“Oh! They’re just waiting for Dream’s approval for you to go see him! I’m sure they’ll be finished soon.” Puffy nodded, leaning back against the wall and letting out a breath.
Tommy felt his stomach drop, and ice wash over his limbs- freezing him in place.
“Are you ok Matrix? You’re looking a little pale..” Puffy raised a brow. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright.” Tommy swallowed and nodded with as much fake confidence as he could while the metal door lock began to turn.
The door swung open, and as usual, out stepped Bad, looking as chipper as ever. Then it was Hannah and Callahan, chattering amongst themselves as they turned and walked in the opposite direction to the meeting. And finally, Ace.
Wait a fucking minute-
Tommy literally nearly threw up onto the floor then and there.
Why the fuck would Quackity be in Potentia? The last time he saw him, he and Chuck? Chilli? (What was his name again…) were chasing him out of the strange filing cabinet room.
Wasn’t this guy supposed to be a hero?
“ Ace.”
“Matrix.”
“Boo. Who invited this guy?”
“Seriously? You have no idea how helpful I am about to be to you.” Quackity tilted his head, the sneer obvious in his voice.
“Well, it seems like you two already know each other! Don’t forget where you’re going today, Matrix!” Puffy smiled eerily, and Tommy was slightly unnerved by her strange rigidness as she walked to catch up with Hannah and Callahan.
“Right.” Tommy nodded.
“Busy couple weeks, Matrix? ” Quackity spoke in a friendly manner, his past hostility all but gone- leaving Tommy to reel in the sudden change of attitude.
He furrowed his brow, unsure of what Quackity was getting at.
“Don’t look so concerned. I’m about to make your day.” Quackity grinned, full of teeth.