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Tommy stayed awake as long as he could, huddled on the lumpy sacks of flour in the back of the supply wagon and clutching his threadbare canvas blanket. The fact that the nights were getting longer and colder was doing absolutely nothing to help him out.
But thankfully, there was no reappearance of the shadowy figure around the supply wagon.
… at least, not while he was awake.
The next morning, however, was a near-repeat of the chaos of the previous one. Tommy blearily poked his head out of the supply wagon to see items strewn around the campsite again, more damage to some of the other wagons, and people shouting and literally pointing fingers at each other, and in some cases openly brawling.
And –
He drew in a sharp breath. Some of the horses were missing.
His eyes widening, Tommy clambered out of the wagon and raced towards the nearby post-line, where some of the animals had been tied for the night. No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t –
There was Henry the cow, happily munching on some breakfast hay. Bee and Boo, who usually pulled the supply wagon, were there too, blinking at Tommy sleepily. And the Three Musketeers, the three brown horses who were ridden by Dream, Sapnap, and Wibbles, were still tied next to them, but –
Tommy stopped, breath caught in his throat.
Shroud was gone. And so was Clementine. Shroud, the beautiful black mare who would daintily eat sugar cubes from Tommy’s palm, tickling him as a distraction while her orange-splashed sister Clementine would lean over sneakily and steal sugar cubes straight from his jacket pocket –
They were both just gone. Tommy looked around frantically. Maybe someone had taken them for a ride? Even though it was first thing in the morning, even though the camp was in a state of utter chaos?
“Kid.”
Tommy shrieked (no, he yelped, if anything, it was a very dignified yelp –) and spun around.
Standing a few feet away, looking the long way down at him, was the very tall new guy. Wilbur.
“You shouldn’t be out here like that,” Wilbur said, nodding towards the ground.
Confused, Tommy looked down. Then he realized he was still barefoot, his toes sinking into the gritty sand, and was still in his sleep clothes. When he had seen the empty spots in the animal line, he had jumped out of the wagon without another thought.
“There are scorpions and snakes out here,” Wilbur continued patiently. “It’s not safe. Go put your boots on.”
Tommy nodded mutely and returned to the supply wagon to get dressed.
---
A couple of minutes later, Tommy joined the others, who were standing in a loose circle around the long-extinguished fire. The air was fairly simmering with barely-contained rage.
“It’s them,” Mullins growled, jabbing a meaty finger towards … Phil and Wilbur?
Tommy blinked, bewildered.
“I’m telling you,” Mullins continued, gesturing broadly. “We just happen to pick up these schmucks along the road, out of the goodness of our hearts, and then the next day all our shit is smashed or stolen? It’s not exactly the esoteric arts, gents. Put two and two together.”
“That is really quite an accusation, mate,” Phil said, quiet but firm, but with faint amusement coloring his customary drawl. “My boy and I were sleeping out here, just like the rest of you.”
“Ha!” Mullins jeered. Behind him, Sharky and Wibbles made noises of agreement.
“What about yesterday, then?” Tommy cut in challengingly. As everyone, Dream included, swung around to stare – or glare – at him, he nearly quailed. But the unfairness of the accusation rankled at Tommy. Between that and his sick worry about Shroud and Clementine (and Smee, he had to admit), he just couldn’t stay silent.
“Yesterday morning all the shit was smashed up, just like this,” Tommy stumbled on, “and Phil and Wilbur weren’t even with us then! And then, everyone blamed Smee just because he was missing and – and no one even wanted to look for him! But what if someone else was doing all this shit, and what if Smee was the only one who woke up and saw them, and so they grabbed him? What if –”
“The kid may be right,” Sapnap cut in bluntly. At his side, Dream turned to stare at his second-in-command with some displeasure.
“We don’t know for sure what’s going on,” Sapnap continued, “so no point in hurling accusations. These parts may just be cursed. We should leave, and fast.”
“But make no mistake,” Dream growled, casting a beady eye over the assembled group, lingering on Phil and Wilbur. “We’ll be keeping a close eye on you all. And if I see any funny business, I’m going to personally tie you hand and foot and toss you out into the desert as dinner for the coyotes and chupacabras. Got it?”
---
The wagon train continued on. Again, because of the delay in getting started, they were hours behind schedule. And now with two missing horses, things were even slower going because crew members who had ridden before now needed to be on the wagons … and it was that much of an extra burden for the horses pulling the wagons.
Tommy gave Boo and Bee some extra pats and sugar cubes when the wagon train stopped for a mid-day rest. It was really too hot for the animals to keep going without regular breaks. He swallowed hard, thinking about Shroud and Clementine. Were they safe? Did they have food and water?
He hoped that whoever had taken them was being nice to them.
As they got ready to depart again, Tommy clambered back up into the supply wagon and smiled awkwardly at Phil and Wilbur as they climbed in after him.
It was a little weird, sharing this tight space with the two strange men, but there weren’t too many other options. Mullins and Sharky were in the second wagon, and they’d made it clear that Phil and Wilbur weren’t welcome. In the absence of Smee, Jukes was now driving the lead wagon with Sapnap. Yeah, all in all, there weren’t many places their guests could fit.
But Tommy found he didn’t mind. Phil and Wilbur were quite nice … nicer than most of the crew, to be honest. Before, Tommy would have said that Phil was the more talkative of the two, but it quickly became clear that it was actually Wilbur, by far.
As Wilbur talked (and talked, and talked), Tommy learned that he and Phil lived on a large ranch somewhere on the edges of the desert, that Phil had another son (though it wasn’t clear whether Wilbur was the elder or younger), and that they’d been on their way home from visiting some friends when they were ambushed and robbed of their things.
“How about you, mate?” Phil asked during a lull in the conversation. “Where are you from? What are you doing with this … caravan?”
Tommy snorted at Phil’s delicate description of Dream’s crew.
“I’m just trying to get to the coast,” he explained, feeling an odd sense of deja-vu. Hadn’t he explained this to someone else, recently?
“Can’t really afford the fees to join a real wagon train, yeah? So if I tag along with Dream’s crew, I get a free ride and food and shit. I mean, we just keep going up and down the road between towns in the desert for now, working games, but eventually we’ll make it to the coast. And then …”
Tommy’s voice trailed off.
After a brief pause, Phil asked gently, “What about your family, mate? Is there someone out on the coast waiting for you? Or maybe back in your hometown?”
“Nah,” Tommy said briefly. “It’s just me now. But there’s probably loads of jobs out on the coast,” he continued, recovering his enthusiasm. “Like in the mines and shit, yeah? So I can figure something out, when we finally get there.”
And then there was a shout from outside. Tommy’s head snapped up, and then he relaxed. It was just Jukes, calling out that they were stopping for the day.
Behind him, Phil and Wilbur exchanged a glance.
---
But really … getting to the coast was far less of a concern now than simply making it to the next town. As the wagon train made camp for the night again, Tommy felt a deep sense of foreboding. It was now two nights running that something had happened. Would the pattern continue?
Tommy’s immediate thought, when he poked his head out of the supply wagon just after dawn the following morning, was that no, it was over! Nothing had happened!
The sun was just above the horizon, and the morning chill of the desert had not yet fully dissipated. But there was plenty enough light to see that the campsite looked normal. There was no wreckage or items strewn around, nobody was shouting –
Actually, it was unexpectedly quiet.
Tommy frowned, grabbed his jacket and boots, and hopped outside.
To his surprise, he found everyone again standing in a tense circle, a short distance away. Everyone was there, Dream and Sapnap, Phil and Wilbur, Wibbles and Sharky and Mullins and –
Hang on. Where the hell was Jukes?
Cautiously, Tommy edged to the periphery of the – it wasn’t a circle, actually. It looked like there were two opposing camps. Dream, Sapnap, and Mullins stood on one side, and Phil, Wilbur, Wibbles, and Sharky were on the other. They were staring daggers at each other.
Shit. Tommy had clearly just interrupted something.
“Hang on,” Wilbur said, sounding incredulous, continuing their ongoing conversation. “You’re meaning to just leave him out there?”
Tommy blinked, unable to process this. Leave him? Who? Then his stomach filled with ice as he took in the Jukes-less crowd. Wait, they couldn't possibly mean -
Dream was clearly seething. But Wilbur clearly wasn't backing down. Instead, the tall man met the glare with a steady calmness reminiscent of Phil’s usual expression.
“And what,” Dream asked silkily, “do you suggest I do instead? Stay here?” he gestured expansively to the scrubland that surrounded them. “Set up camp? Maybe start our own little town, right on this spot? We can call it Jukesville,” he added, as Sapnap and Mullins laughed derisively.
“I’m suggesting,” Wilbur replied bluntly, “that you organize a search party and look for him before just moving on.”
“He knows the risk of falling behind,” Dream said dismissively, turning away from Wilbur and the conversation. “If he’s not here when we move out, then that’s on him.”
“Even though he could be injured?” Phil asked curiously. He stood a little behind his son and to the side, so that he had a clear view of the encampment and all the crew. The blond man tilted his head, eyeing Dream like a schoolteacher appraising a pupil.
Or no, Tommy thought, his chest tightening. Like a carnival-goer, appraising a curiosity at the traveling circus.
“Even though he could be laying somewhere in the desert not far from here, calling out for help?” Phil continued, his tone even and observational. A chill ran down Tommy’s spine.
Dream turned back and stared at him. Behind him, the crew were all still, watching the exchange.
A frigid moment passed.
“Yes,” Dream said shortly, turning away. He gestured angrily to the others and shouted for them to pack up, to get ready to move out.
Tommy swallowed.
Then a shadow fell over him, and he flinched, rather. Then he looked up and saw Wilbur’s tall form, Phil again hovering just behind him. The two men looked at him and then seemed to remember to smile.
“Don’t worry, Toms,” Wilbur said calmly, and Phil patted Tommy on the shoulder as they passed by. “Things will be fine.”
---
But things weren’t fine.
The following night, Tommy stayed awake as long as he could, watching the flickering of the campfire through the rough canvas, listening to the low conversation interspersed with laughter drifting in from outside.
When he woke, it was to -
"You goddamned brat!"
Mullins’s livid face was inches from his own. Tommy flinched back, confused and barely awake – what the fuck was Mullins doing in Tommy’s sleeping space? The man was practically spitting in fury, and Tommy cried out as he was grabbed in a bruising grip and unceremoniously dragged out of the supply wagon.
Tommy gasped in shock and pain as Mullins then slammed him against the side of the supply wagon, once, twice –
In the distance, he could see other people shouting as they noticed the commotion, and running towards them.
Tommy’s head had just bounced off the side of the wagon for a third time when Mullins was torn away from him and thrown to the ground several yards away. He looked up and saw Wilbur, expression furiously cold and forbidding.
Then other hands were holding him, and Tommy blinked into Phil’s angry and concerned face. “Are you alright, mate?” the blond man demanded.
“What the fuck is happening here?” Dream and Sapnap had just arrived on the scene.
“That dumbass kid let the cow go!” Mullins screamed, trying to wrestle away from Wibbles and Sharky and lunge for Tommy again. “Everything's already gone to shit around here, we've got nothing and people keep wrecking our shit! And now we won’t have any milk either –”
“Henry?” Tommy whispered numbly, a new, deeper horror settling into his bones. “Henry’s gone?”
“Yes she’s fucking gone,” Mullins snarled. “Because you left her untied, you little shit! That’s his job, Dream, you know it is –”
“Enough!” Dream snapped, breathing hard.
The sandy-haired man glared at Tommy, who was too lightheaded from the twin shocks of the attack and the news to even really notice.
No, Tommy hadn't left Henry untied, he was sure of it! He had gone down the post-line of animals last night like he always did and checked on everyone, and Henry had been there, Henry had been fine -!
“We can’t waste time looking around for a cow,” Dream said after a moment of silence. “Tommy, I'll be dealing with you later. The rest of you, pack up and let's move on.”
“No!” Tommy choked out, but Phil hushed him and pulled him away, murmuring “It’s okay, mate, it’s okay –”
---
The next morning, the camp was again filled with a grim silence when Tommy cautiously emerged from the supply wagon.
Everyone seemed to be standing a little ways away from the campsite, looking at something in the desert. Feeling slightly apprehensive, Tommy made his way over to join them. He peered over Sharky’s shoulder and –
Tommy choked.
That was Mullins, lying there. That was Mullins, clearly dead because there was a fucking wooden stake, the kind used in the post-lines to tie up the animals, sticking out of his fucking chest.
Tommy must have made a noise, because Phil looked over at him sharply and then Wilbur was suddenly in front of Tommy, blocking his view of the grisly scene.
“Don’t look, Toms,” Wilbur said, herding him away. “Don’t look. Come on, let’s walk over here –”
Numb, Tommy allowed himself to be steered away.
---
Things came to a head that night, when the remaining members of the wagon train were beginning to set up camp.
“We’ve –” Wibbles exchanged a nervous glance with Sharky and then squared his shoulders in resolve. “We’ve been thinking, Dream.”
“Thinking,” Dream repeated, his eyes as cold and hard as ice. “You, Wibbles? How novel.”
“Hey, that’s not –” Wibbles shook his head, closed his eyes briefly, and then pressed on in a dignified voice. “Look, Dream. It’s obvious that our wagon train has fallen on considerable misfortune under your leadership –”
“Our wagon train, Wibbles?” Dream drawled, cutting him off. “No. No, Wibbles. This is my wagon train, and you’re here because I allow it.”
“That’s not fair, Dream,” Sharky spoke up boldly. “We all of us have put our time and effort into this here endeavor! And we all of us have got some say in how things go around here –”
“No, this is my wagon train!” Dream suddenly screamed, his eyes bulging and livid. “And what I say goes! Me, and only me! If you don’t like it, get the fuck out! Get out, or I’ll fucking kill you, you goddamn slimy ungrateful bastards!”
Tommy must have made some unfortunate noise then, because –
“What is it then, Tommy?” Dream wheeled around to glare at him. Tommy involuntarily backed up a step at the sheer rage exuding from the man.
Dream stepped forward, snatching at Tommy's jacket collar. “You want to go with them, too, huh? Then fuckin’ go, you ungrateful brat! Nobody’s keeping you here –”
“Calm down,” Phil cut in coldly. The blond man stepped in front of Tommy, blocking Dream’s advance while also pushing Tommy gently but firmly behind him. Tommy stumbled backwards, into Wilbur.
“He’s just a child,” Phil continued, eyeing Dream with extreme displeasure. “Control yourself.”
Dream’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull in fury. “Control – look here, old man!”
And to Tommy’s utter horror, Dream’s hand went to his pistol.
And as if in slow motion, Phil raised his hand – was he holding something? Wilbur’s fingers tightened painfully on Tommy’s shoulders as he made to shove the boy behind him, to rush to his father’s side.
And then suddenly, from somewhere to the side, there was a shout.
Dream swore, drew, and fired.
But not at Phil, Tommy realized with relief. But then, to his dismay, he realized Dream had actually fired towards Wibbles and Sharky. The pair had taken advantage of Dream's distraction to mount two of the Three Musketeers, and were now attempting to ride away from camp.
Dream’s aim, unfortunately, was true. In the distance, Wibbles screamed and toppled off the horse. Sharky shouted, looking like he might get down and help his companion. But then, after a beat, he turned to ride away again.
Dream took aim again. But this time, Sapnap shouted and lunged for the gun.
Phil stepped back and herded Wilbur and Tommy away from the conflict.
“It’s high time,” Phil said grimly, looking at Wilbur, “we finished this.”
Tommy watched, petrified, as Wilbur nodded in response, his eyes cold and calculating.
And then –
“You around, mate?” Phil asked, apparently into thin air.
Tommy stared at the blond man, baffled. And then –
“Of course.”
Bafflement turned, by degrees, into disbelief-shock-horror as Tommy watched a massive pink-haired figure emerge from around the wagon.
His erstwhile rescuer from all those days ago, from that last town where everything had first started to go to shit, came to stand next to Phil and Wilbur. Then he grinned down at Tommy.
“Hey, kid.”
“It was you,” Tommy whispered, petrified. He edged backwards, faintly registering that the supply wagon was now behind him, hemming him in. “It was you. All this time, it was you, all of you –”
“Toms –” Wilbur began.
“Don’t call me that!” Tommy cried. “I defended you - you bastards! But why? Why would you do all this shit? Did you kill Mullins, too? What about Jukes? And poor Smee? And –”
“Yes,” Technoblade and Phil said, nearly in unison. They exchanged an amused glance.
Wilbur tsk’ed in disapproval. “Come on, you two. You’re scaring him!”
“Mate, they only reaped what they'd spent years sowing,” Phil said calmly, turning back to Tommy. “They were criminals through-and-through, cheating honest folk out of what little they had. And don't forget, they even laid hands on you, even though you're still a child. You can be sure,” he added darkly, “that we didn’t forget.”
Tommy pressed back against the supply wagon, shaking.
“But they didn’t deserve to die for that!” he choked out. “Smee, Jukes – they weren’t bad. You could have just, like, driven them away or something! We were already leaving your town –”
“Those kinds of vermin would never have stopped coming back,” Technoblade growled, his expression menacing. “And also, this wasn’t just about them, kid.”
“It’s about you, too, Toms,” Wilbur cut in, smiling beatifically. “If we just drove them away, you would have just gone with them. Then either they'd have ruined you or you'd have gone ahead with that stupid plan to throw your life away working in some mine. But now –”
Tommy gaped up at them.
“Now you’ll come live with us!” Wilbur said cheerily. “You’ll just love the ranch, Toms. We’ve already taken all your favorite animals over there, like that fluffy cow –”
Tommy had barely had time to process this when Dream stumbled around the wagon, clutching its side for support.
The man looked terrible. His eyes were wide and rolling, his face dark with bruises, and his clothes were torn and blood-stained.
It was, Tommy realized, feeling ill, probably Sapnap’s blood.
“You!” Dream growled, taking in Phil, Wilbur, and … Technoblade.
“Me,” Technoblade replied mockingly.
“Come on now, mate,” Phil said calmly, looping an arm around Tommy’s shoulders. "Let's leave them to it."
He steered Tommy firmly away, into the darkness of the desert. Wilbur followed close at their heels.
It was, Tommy realized numbly as he stumbled along, so that he wouldn’t see what Technoblade did to Dream.
He could hear it though. Phil had pulled him close, pressing one of Tommy’s ears against his chest and covering the other with his hand. But even above the steady thud of the man’s heart, Tommy could still hear it.
After a little while, when the desert night was again silent except for the distant, mournful cries of coyotes, Wilbur disappeared back towards the remains of the wagon train. Shortly afterwards, the tall man returned, with Technoblade at his side. They were leading Bee, Boo, and the other remaining horses. Tommy observed with a shudder that the massive man’s clothes were marked with a number of new, suspicious dark stains.
Technoblade grinned down at Tommy, his bright red eyes gleaming dangerously.
“Well, kid, your warning helped. Turns out it was all rigged. But looks like I won in the end, after all.”