Chapter Text
Despite everything- the comfort of the bed, the exhaustion in his bones, the soothing light of the passing stars, Tommy cannot fall asleep.
He attributes this to the change in setting throwing him off, grumbling as he rolls over for what seems like the millionth time since he had laid down. His hair is probably a total rat's-nest. Not that it could have been much worse after his stint through space. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair, wincing when it gets caught in the tangles. Now that he's free he really needs to figure out where the baths are.
That will have to come in the morning, though. He's not sure that anyone is awake at this hour, and he doesn't want to mar his first free night by pissing off one of the crewmembers by waking one of them up to ask where the showers are.
His mind wanders in the silence, the darkness of the room permeating his senses entirely. He heaves another sigh and tries to wrench his thoughts to something lighter than the dread that's made a home in his chest since he was taken off of Earth. He stands, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of the cold tile against his bare feet. He really needs to see someone about getting some shoes that aren't mismatched or torn to shit.
He walks out of his new room as silently as he can, which, due to his lack of shoes, is pretty damn silent. He holds the newly-dubbed 'Henry' close to his chest. As embarrassing as it feels to be walking around holding a stuffed animal, he has already grown stupidly attached to the thing. Maybe it's because it reminds him of home, or maybe it's just because Tubbo made it.
The hallways are dark, lit with tiny globes stuck into the wall that light up when he walks past them. Tommy chuckles quietly at the notion that a futuristic spaceship would have nightlights but keeps moving to the kitchen. There's no way he'll be able to figure out the layout of the ship in its entirety on his own, but he doesn't want to lay in bed and let his mind wander down dark alleys when he could just get up and get some water instead.
He finds the kitchen without much trouble. It had been the place he frequented the most while living in the vents, after all. He grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water from the sink. He drains it and fills it again, sipping more slowly this time. The last thing he needs is to get sick after everything.
He leans against the counter, staring at the wall as he drinks.
It's been a long time since he's been in charge of anything in his life. He can't remember the last time he had gotten himself food or water without being terrified of being caught. Over the past few months he'd gotten used to being fed rather than feeding himself, and even now the indignity of it twists his gut. He finishes the water and sets the cup down next to the sink before starting back to his room.
On his way back, one of the nightlights flicks on and illuminates a door slightly open. Tommy, ever the curious one, pokes his head inside without any hesitation. It's Tubbo's room, as made apparent by the fact that Tubbo is sprawled over the bed on his stomach, drooling into one of his pillows. Sleepiness drags down Tommy's eyes just looking at him, and he huffs under his breath before pushing the door open a little more and standing over Tubbo.
He hopes he doesn't wake up while Tommy is watching him sleep like a stalker, but Tommy is too tired to truly care. Tommy grabs one of Tubbo's many unused pillows and sets it on the ground before lying down, tucking Henry under one arm. It isn't exactly comfortable, but it's more familiar than the bed had been, and the sound of Tubbo's whistling breaths put him at ease. It drowns out the white noise of space that has been chasing him for far too long.
Tommy falls asleep pretty easily after that.
_________________________
Everything hurts, and it's only going to get worse. That's what all the other prisoners say, anyway. They look at Tommy with something so pitying that it makes him want to lash out, but he can't, and not just because of the bars that separate them. They're going through this together, all of them, and a few of them have formed close bonds. Not all of them speak English, of course, they've all been taken from different parts of Earth.
One of the guards steps into the room, not Dream, the pure white one wearing gold, and the caged people immediately hush. A few of them spit, both literally and figuratively, but Punz seems completely unbothered, stepping towards Tommy's cage. Tommy bares his teeth at the alien, but he doesn't flinch. Tommy couldn't really do anything, and they both know it. Dream keeps everyone underfed enough that they aren't able to fight back, just barely enough to keep them alive.
Punz grabs him by the arm roughly, digging his claws in when Tommy tries to resist. A few of the other people caged around him shout and shake the bars but the guard doesn't pause, only continues to drag Tommy out of his cell for more testing. As much as Tommy hated the cage, the testing was a hundred times worse.
The memory shifts like someone swirled it in a glass of water and then Tommy is staring at his neighboring cage. It's empty, and it has been for a few days. The others say he's gone, and Tommy knows they're probably right. There is only one thing that could have happened when one of them disappeared.
The memory shifts again, and then Tommy is sort of aware of the fact that he is dreaming, but nothing changes, and the realization slips out of his mind like water between his fingers.
Tommy is gripping the wheel of the ship so hard that his knuckles have gone white. He did it. He actually fucking did it. All the others have been killed or sold off, but according to some of the few who had been able to pick up a bit of Common, they had something special planned for him. He can hear Dream trying to speak to him through the door, all broken English and cloying lies.
The front of the ship crumples against the surface of some distant planet, and Tommy slams against the far wall. He gets up panting and rushes for the door.
Dream's hand is on his shoulder. He's in his cage and in his cell and in his room back on Earth, all blended together in some dark mashup.
"You can't leave, Tommy." Dream says, and Tommy knows this isn't real. Dream never was able to speak English and he certainly never knew Tommy's name, but all that information seems to slip out of his mind as soon as he realizes it. "You can't leave."
"You died." Tommy says weakly. "I made sure-"
"You can't know that," Dream says, like he's talking to a child. A pet. Something lesser. Tommy wants to push him away, but his arms are as heavy as stone.
"You're not safe, you're not safe anywhere but Earth." Dream says, voice shifting all over the place. "You can't go home with them. I can take you home. I went to Earth before, remember?"
Tommy wants to cover his ears but he can't move at all.
"I'm your only hope, Tommy." Dream whispers. "You need me."
Tommy wakes up screaming, and then immediately claps a hand over his mouth and rolls into the fetal position. Shit, shit, shit. Okay. No one heard that-
A hand is on his shoulder and it takes every ounce of self control for Tommy not to turn around and deck whoever is touching him. He can't hold back a full body flinch, however, and the hand pulls away.
Shit. He fell asleep in Tubbo's room. Fuck.
"-ommy? Tommy, are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you need me to get Phil?"
"Don't get Phil," Tommy gasps, rolling back onto his back. Tubbo's hands are hovering over him like he wants to pull Tommy into a hug but doesn't want to upset him further.
"Take deep breaths," Tubbo says evenly, and Tommy shoots him a look.
"I'm not havin' a fuckin' panic- panic attack," Tommy hisses.
"I didn't say you were, but you're breathing like you were running. So breathe right or you're gonna black out."
He has a point there, actually. Tommy makes an effort to slow his breathing, even though it feels like fire going in. Once he's calmed down enough that he's stopped shaking, Tubbo sits next to him.
"Can I touch you?" Tubbo asks. Tommy opens his mouth to reply with something snarky, just to break the tension of the room, but he closes it again.
"Not the shoulders, please," Tommy mutters, and Tubbo nods, grabbing onto Tommy's hands like they're his only lifeline.
A few minutes of quiet pass until Tommy has fully calmed down.
"Nightmare?" Tubbo asks quietly. Tommy snorts out a humorless laugh.
"No I had a dream I won the fuckin' lottery," Tommy snarks. "Yeah, I had a nightmare."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Tubbo asks. Tommy hesitates. He doesn't want to. Like, at all. But the school counselor used to say that the only way to get over something was to talk about it, though that might have just been her way of getting Tommy to tell her all his secrets.
"Just... about the last ship." Tommy admits. Tubbo nods sagely.
"I figured that might have been it," He says. "Anything specific or was it just general."
"Specific," Tommy says, tucking his face into his knees. "But it was a bunch of different memories all swirled together." Tubbo hums in understanding.
"Tubbo?" Tommy asks, looking up from where he had hidden his face.
"Yeah?"
"What are the chances of someone surviving a ship crashing the way I crashed it. A non-human."
Tubbo hums thoughtfully, putting a finger to his chin.
"Phil showed me the pictures of the wreckage, I'd say there's an almost zero percent chance they lived, depending on where they were in the ship. Why? Someone in there you don't want getting out?"
Tommy nods. Tubbo scoots next to him, pressing against his side.
"Come lay in the bed, the floor can't be comfy," Tubbo says, pulling him to his feet. Tommy groans, throwing his head back.
"I've been sleeping on the floor for like a million years, I am not used to beds right now."
"Good a time as any to get used to them, then!" Tubbo says cheerfully before shoving Tommy into the bowl-shaped bed and clambering in after him. Tommy huffs in irritation and erects a small pillow-wall between them, making Tubbo roll his eyes.
"You're so proud," Tubbo teases. Tommy is too tired to put up a real fight, but he shoots Tubbo what he hopes is a withering glare anyway. Tubbo doesn't look upset in the slightest. Tommy nestles Henry against his collarbone, glaring at Tubbo as if daring him to say anything. Tubbo only smiles.
"I'm staying on the ship, you know." Tubbo says quietly. Tommy blinks at him.
"Were you not going to before?"
"I came here as a favor to Phil, but I was always going to need to go back eventually. I've sent in a request to stay here full time as a sort of abroad student, and it was approved."
"Oh-" Tommy says, relief flooding his chest. Thank God he wouldn't have to be here without Tubbo, then he really would be miserable. "Good."
They lay there for a while, Tommy staring up at the dark ceiling. Sleep is coming to him much more easily than before. Tommy chalks this up to hearing someone's breathing.
"Humans are pack-based, you know." Tubbo says, making Tommy blink tiredly.
"I know."
"I mean, you're built to protect each other. I just- Tommy who was protecting you? Did you have family on Earth?"
The room is silent again, and Tommy sees Tubbo open his mouth to apologize, but Tommy beats him to the punch.
"I didn't have a family on Earth, no." Tommy admits. "I lived in a group home, which is like where children can go when they don't have parents. After- after I was abducted there was- well most of the people there didn't have families either. I think that's why they took us. The person in the cell next to mine, he was probably the closest thing to family I had. He protected me."
"Where is he now?" Tubbo asks quietly.
"Dead," Tommy says, trying to sound nonchalant. It doesn't work. "They took him for experimenting one day and he just...never came back."
"I'm sorry," Tubbo says. Tommy shrugs.
"No use crying over it now."
"You're going to be okay, you know," Tubbo says. Tommy looks over to him, slightly startled by the hard determination in his eyes.
"What?"
"You might not feel it now, but you're going to be okay. Okay?"
Tommy can feel tears welling up in his eyes and desperately tries to tamp them down.
"Okay."
"Now go to bed. I'm not gonna be the one to tell Wilbur you slept through your first day as a real crewmember because you were up late being sappy." Tubbo says, smacking his shoulder. Tommy laughs wetly, wiping his eyes in a way that he hopes is subtle but probably isn't.
"You're a good friend, Tubbo," Tommy says. Tubbo smiles at him. Tommy rolls over and presses Henry against his chest. It is a small comfort in a place as large as space, but it soothes him all the same. He sleeps without nightmares.
When he wakes, a passing star glows through Tubbo's window. It looks like a rising sun.