Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Dream, i don't think the Revive Book- how could i be so? Prime, Dream. The Revive Book, it doesn't exist does it?", He said through gritted teeth. Tommy was starting to feel nauseas, very nauseas. Though that might've been a tad obvious, seeing as he was currently stuck with his former abuser in a small, obsidian prison while he was claustrophobic.  

Oh and who's fault is that?

Yeah, this is going to be be an interesting conversation with my therapist. 

"When have i ever lied to you Tommy?" Tommy scoffed. When hadn't he lied to him? Tommy practically lost count. But what threw the blond off was the fact that Dream sounded genuinely upset. Maybe he actually felt bad? Maybe he wasn't lying? Maybe Tommy was just insane and he'd been imagining it all? Was exile real? Wait- what was he talking about? of course exile was real!

Don't let the green bastard get to your head, idiot.

Tommy quickly shook off those thoughts. Even if Dream sounded genuine, it didn't mean much since Tommy knew better than anyone not to fall for his manipulations. He'd been a victim to it, after all. He wasn't going to let himself fall right back in to Dream's hands.

"He was only ever there to watch me"

"Hmm, oh i don't know?", He said, voice dripping with sarcasm, putting his hands up to his chin and dramatically furrowing his eyebrows. "I mean all i remember from exile is-" Tommy clenched his fists and he felt his nails digging into his palms. "-YOU FUCKING LYING TO ME!"

He took a deep breath, steadying himself for whatever poison would come out of the man's mouth next. 

"Tommy-" But before Dream could even finish his sentence, Tommy opened his mouth. 

"I mean you were literally the one to rig my goddamn beach party, you were the one that burnt down the Community House and blamed me for it, you were the one that told me Tubbo burnt his compass, Prime, do i need to continue?-"

 "Oh, Tommy,"  Tommy shut his mouth with a soft 'click!' as his eyes widened. Dream took a step forward and Tommy took one back. He swallowed back a wince, as he could feel his nails ripping through the outer layers of his skin. There was that certain tone in Dream's voice that just made him shudder. Memories of exile went flooding through his head.

Tommy clenched his eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath. Then slowly opened them and looked straight at the man before him, two small, black, beady eyes staring back at him.

"Tommy, you come in here and you be annoying, ungrateful, manipulative, even! As if i'd never been there for you when you'd been alone! When nobody was there for you, i was. I was there for you. I was your friend, your only friend.I did so much for you- and- and you're just being a fucking bitch and then you- you accuse me of things! Accuse me of being a goddamn LIAR!" Tommy tried not to flinch back at Dream's sudden change of voice. He tried not to curl in on himself as Dream just got closer and closer. And no, he did not start crying, and no, he didn't sob. 

Tommy didn't even bother wiping his face, as he was to distracted by Dream raising his hands as Tommy's eyes widened. No no no no no no. Dream swung down with his fists clenched, aiming right for Tommy. Tommy let out a loud yelp as he used his hands to shield his face. It was going to be a nasty wound on his arm but at least it wouldn't damage his face. But as Dream went in for another swing, it hit him right on his eye. 

Yeah, that was going to be a very visible bruise. Shit.

The bruised blond stumbled back as his back hit the wall and he almost lost balance. Dream took another step forward as he pinned Tommy to the wall. Tommy's breath was shaky and choked between the sobs. His eye was burning from pain.

That's gonna be so swollen when i get out of here.

When, not if, when.

There was a beat of silence before Dream hit Tommy again, and again, and again. Tommy fell to the floor and Dream took that as an opportunity to start kicking. He tried crawling away, but that didn't work, so he started begging. Ugh.

"I-i.. Stop-stop! You- I- STOP IT! Please, stop." Tommy's voice cracked and his words were barely audible between the choked sobs, but the masked man listened anyway. That didn't make him any less scarier, though. Dream was still standing over his barely-alive, bloody body. He quickly took the chance to crawl-limp away, towards the other corner.

Dream turned around, to face Tommy. The boy was leaning pathetically against the wall next to the clock, breathing heavily. Dream threw his hands in the air, gesturing like a mad man. "You can't kill me, Tommy! And i can kill you!" Tommy's eyes widened. Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

He's not gonna kill me is he?

It was silent for a few moments before Tommy spoke up, with a new found confidence. Well, sort of. "D-do you hear yourself?" The blond muttered, nervously starting to fidget with his shirt. His voice was still raspy and sore, but he didn't care.

"Tommy-"

"DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF!?", Tommy said again, this time with a bit more courage. His voice wasn't as shaky as before, and it didn't crack, so he was pretty proud of himself. He stopped fidgeting.

"Tom- Tommy! If-if you can't kill me, does that make me some kind of god or something!?" The man looked completely insane, obsessed, maniacal.

A beat of silence passed.

And laughter filled the room. It was an evil, dark, hysterical laugh. Coming from behind Dream's mask.

Tommy flinched back, losing all of his earlier confidence. But it came back as quick as it went.

"What-what? Wh- NO! I look at you and i-i just see a sad, little man, alright?" Tommy took a step forward. "You're just a sad little man who manipulated a child and got locked up in prison. You-you're not a g-god, or whatever!" He took another step. "I-i could kill you now, if-if i wanted too!" Tommy pointed directly at Dream, but again, his confidence died down in a flash as Dream pushed Tommy back towards the wall. Dream didn't seem to convinced, and neither was Tommy, not anymore, at least. The masked man took three more steps toward the new corner as Tommy took three back. Unfortunately it seemed he hit the wall, as he slumped down, leaning against it. 

"Maybe, maybe you could. Actually you have! But now? You wouldn't, you won't." The blond could basically hear the smug smile in the man's voice.

"T-the Revive Book isn't real- okay? I've seen Schlatt's grave- HELL, I WAS THERE!" Tommy tried to act tough, to not let show how scared, how terrified he was. Though he could tell by Dream's stance he probably saw right through him. Though the frustration he was showing wasn't entirely fake. He was furious and he wanted to let all his pent-up frustration out. But he didn't get the chance to continue the screaming match.

Dream towered over Tommy.

"Why don't you go see him?."

Tommy watched in horror as Dream got out a potato from his inventory, flipped it around a few times, as if he was inspecting it. Bastard. He bent down to be face to face with Tommy, and started smashing the potato against Tommy's head.

"WAIT, WAIT- DREAM! DREAM, STOP IT, STOP!" 

He'd tried to defend himself, he tried to rip away the hands, smashing against Tommy's skull. But Dream's second hand gripped Tommy's hair, making it harder to get away.

Dream's grip on Tommy's hair loosened but he could feel the potato being smashed against his head, crumpling into little bits. 

The masked man let go of Tommy's hair, now using both hands to hit Tommy.

He couldn't even hear his own words anymore, was he seriously being beat to death with a fucking potato? 

"DREAM, I-I'M SORRY, PLEASE! IT HURTS- STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!"

He felt the potato slowly crumble into pieces as Dream just gave up using the potato and grasped Tommy's hair, bashing his head against the obsidian walls.

He felt his tears running down his cheeks.

He felt Dream let his hair go, throwing him down to the ground.

He felt his vision starting to blur out. 

He felt a fist smashed against his skull, then a kick against his stomach, then his hair was grasped again and he was once again being bashed again the walls.

He felt the rough, cold material get smashed against his forehead, over and over, as his head began to bleed.

He felt the blood run down his face, over his eyes, mixing with the tears and blinding his vision.

He felt everything

And then he felt nothing.

He opened his eyes, but nothing changed. Everything was still black. He tried to whip his head around to see if he could see just- anything!? But he couldn't. Just to add to the pile, instant pain flashed through his body at the sudden movement.

Where am i? Am i dead? Shit. Shit. Shit.

Tommy groaned, as he sat up, his body screaming in protest.

"H-hello? Am i- am i dead? Is there someone there?", He called out.

When he realised he wasn't getting an answer he called out again.

"HELLO!?" He yelled this time.

"Tom-Tommy?" A familiar voice said, distantly.

He recognised that voice.. How could he not? Tommy grew up with him, Prime he practically raised Tommy! Since Phil and Techno left to go on their 'journeys' so often, Tommy was left with him. Even after Tommy joined the Dream SMP, he was still there. Until, of course, he blew up the same country they both built and worked so hard for and then committed suicide by asking his father to murder him. 

"Wilbur..?" His voice shook and his eyes widened at the name leaving his mouth.

"Tommy!" Wilbur's voice sounded too familiar, but at the same time, way too unfamiliar.

Tommy whipped his head around, in hopes of catching a glimpse of his dead older brother. But he didn't see anything. He didn't see Wilbur, he didn't see Dream, he didn't see obsidian walls, he saw absolutely nothing.

A black abyss. A void, to be trapped in, forever alone. Nobody else there except for a shell of your dead older brother.

He was stuck in an infinite black void, never to return to the living. Well shit. Forget the 'My therapist won't even believe this happened.', was he even going to be able to talk to his therapist? Would he be able to talk to Puffy? Shit shit shit. What about Tubbo?

"Tommy! My man, my brother! How are you doing? Are you alright" Tommy grit his teeth. His brother? How dare this imposter speak to Tommy as if he was Wilbur. His Wilbur was dead, this wasn't his Wilbur. Tommy didn't care for this fake. This empty shell.

There were three types of Wilbur's right now. Wilbur, Pogtopia Wilbur and Ghostbur. Tommy despised Pogtopia Wilbur. He wasn't ever the same after Pogtopia. Right up until his death. 

Ghostbur? Ghostbur was, well, he was certainly interesting. Odd. But still better than Pogtopia Wil. He was an empty shell of the Wilbur Wilbur used to be. He was joyful and funny and kind. Also annoying and forgetful and constantly reminding him of Wilbur.

And Wilbur. Wilbur was perfect. He would sing Tommy lullabies if he had a nightmare, or during thunderstorms. He would try to teach Tommy guitar, only for it to completely fail. He would cradle Tommy in his arms or share his blanket on movie nights. He would care for Tommy. He loved Tommy. But that Wilbur wasn't ever coming back. He knew that, he'd known for a while and he'd made peace with it. 

"I-i'm better than ever!" He tried to sound confident, he knows Pogtopia Wilbur didn't like slip-ups. This Wilbur probably doesn't either. He tried to relax and remember the good memories he had with Wilbur, the memories of Wilbur caring for him and loving him. But it wouldn't help anyway, seeing as this wasn't Wilbur.

"You're better than ever are you?-"

"Fuck off.", The blond snarled. Wilbur grinned, at least Tommy thought he did. He still couldn't see anything.

"I think if we hadn't died, the server would be up in shambles! We, especially you, though, create chaos every where we go! Hurting the ones we love. We are perfect for each other, don't you think, Tommy? You know i'm really glad- I'm happy you're here." Tommy cringed at the words coming out of his fake older brother's mouth. Though he couldn't repress a slight wince. The words did kind of hurt.

Hurting the ones we love?

"Wilbur- i mean.. Ugh, i don't want to be here, i-i don't- Just- ugh.."

"Well i'm glad you're here man!"

"Just stop saying that- shut up, Wil- I-i don't want to see or hear you. Why, of all people, do i have to be stuck with you. You're fucking here and i-i.."

Tommy clenched his fists and brought his knees up to his chest. 

"I FUCKING HATE IT HERE!" He rested his head on his knees. How long was he here already? It could have been two minutes, or two years. Either way, it felt like an eternity.

Wilbur laughed, and it wasn't one of his old, cheerful laughs that would make Tommy smile. 

Because this wasn't Wilbur. Not his Wilbur.

His Wilbur would play guitar and sing songs to him if Tommy couldn't sleep. His Wilbur would cuddle with him and whisper reassurances in his ear after he had a nightmare. His Wilbur would stay up late just to check if Tommy was okay. His Wilbur would hug him tightly if Technoblade and Phil left on another one of their adventures. His Wilbur would notice if Tommy smiles even the slightest bit if he saw particular clothes, then he'd buy it for him, without Tommy even having to ask. Or if his eyes lit up while trying new food he made, then he'd make it the next day too. His Wilbur loved him. His Wilbur cared for him. And Tommy felt cared for, he felt loved. He felt wanted.

"Well there's Schlatt, and there's Mexican Dream!" fake Wilbur said as soon as he stopped laughing.

Tommy sighed, his shoulders slumping as he let out a small sob.

It was silent for a few moments before Tommy sobbed again.

The small sob turned into a big sob which turned into a loud and awful cry, which then turned into screaming. Loud and awful screaming.

"FUCK YOU!" He slammed his fists into the ground beneath him. Which was just completely black. He couldn't even see if there was a ground because it was so dark.

He closed his eyes and gripped at his hair, attempting to ground himself.

He at least appreciated fake Wilbur ignoring the little breakdown Tommy was having and let him have it. He didn't really want to talk about it.

Though after what felt like a century of screaming and crying and screeching, Wilbur spoke.

"Toms can you hear that? It sounds like there's a train coming!" Slight amusement in his voice. (Also some curiousness?)

"Fuck off, Wil." His shoulders shook as he took another deep, shaky breath. Almost choking on his own spit, coughing immediately afterwards.

"Tommy-"

"Fuck. Off." The blond replied. He just felt so tired. 

"Tom-Tommy." Wilbur had some seriousness in his voice, some sort of sting that made Tommy shudder.

So he quickly whipped his head up, opening his eyes and wiping away his tears.

Wilbur was right, there was some sort of weird sound in the distance, slowly becoming louder. But that wasn't his main issue right now. His main issue was that he wasn't in a dark void anymore, instead, he was in a- where was he?

His eyes started darting everywhere, trying to locate this place.

A train station?

Of all places, why a train station?

Well it's better than a void.

His eyes traced around the walls of the place he was in, then the floors, then a man sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. The guy had brown, curly hair and was wearing yellow sweater, covered by a long, brown trench coat. He also had round glasses, but one of the lenses was kind of shattered. Not to mention his shirt was drenched with blood, a sword-shaped hole right by his heart. He looked like a drunk man slumped over a wall. Over all, he was a mess.

"Uh, hey Toms." The mess of a man said. He actually seemed slightly embarrassed by the fact that Tommy could see him.

The same man that just told me that he creates chaos where ever he goes.

Tommy took a step back, he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath, steadying himself. Some tenseness left his shoulders and he left himself relax. Then he opened his eyes again.

He looked around again, trying to ignore his dead brother, sitting right in front of him.

He noticed a grey train had just arrived, supposedly the train Wilbur was talking about.

Then his eyes darted back to Wilbur. 

"Wil-Wilbur? Wait- what the fuck? Where- Why am i here?" Tommy felt a tear run down his cheek, he quickly wiped it away with the back of his arm.

Wilbur didn't seem to notice, or he just didn't care. Probably the latter. He just shrugged, completely nonchalant. "I think you're supposed to board that train or something." He pointed to the grey train Tommy had noticed earlier. Tommy quickly turned his gaze back to his brother "I can't move from here anyway. Rules of limbo or whatever."

"What- wait. What is limbo?" The boy was still in shock of dying. This was all way to much to process.

"Uh, look around idiot. This is limbo. Or at least this is my limbo" Tommy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why is your limbo different than mine?"

"Dunno"

They sat in silence for a bit, just staring at each other, sparing glances to the train every once in a while.

Then before the blond could utter another word, the train doors opened and he was being pulled inside. Forced to board the train.

There was some sort of invisible force pulling him toward the train, like strings and a puppet.

He vaguely remembered Wilbur waving goodbye to him, the honk of the train as it left, the dark walls outside the windows as the train left Wilbur behind.

He vaguely remembered getting off the train. 

He clearly remembered falling.

He remembered falling the second he tried to take a step out of the train as the doors opened, his feet falling through and deeper in to the void.

He remembered the black abyss pulling him deeper and deeper, further and further.

He remembered not even being able to see his own hands, because of how dark it was.

He remembered screaming and crying as he was falling and falling and just falling.

He remembered breathing becoming harder and harder as his lungs started to fill with void.

He remembered just not caring anymore, accepting his fate and just closing his eyes.

He remembered trying to control his breathing as he tried to sleep.

He didn't remember waking up.

Chapter Text

Tommy just kept falling and falling and just falling.

He felt numb, unable to feel, see, hear or even smell anything. He couldn't even see his own goddamn hands, because of the darkness! And about a million thoughts were running through his mind.

Am i ever going to get out of here?

Will i ever stop falling?

Will i ever see Tubbo again?

Will Sam ever save me?

Do i deserve this?

What was it all for?

What was it all for? All the wars he fought, everything he's done to survive, to keep his friends safe, to keep his country safe! All to just keep falling in this infinite black void? This endless dark abyss? To just die by the hands of Dream? The name felt like poison, even just thinking it.

He never should have visited Dream in the prison. This never should have happened.

He'd wanted closure, that's why he even went to visit his least favourite person. People say that closure is nice, relieving, freeing. That when you'd been in a toxic relationship or friendship, or if you were manipulated and murdered by the same man who claimed to be your only friend, that closure is just what you need. At least, that's what Puffy, his therapist, also his friend, told him.

Like after ending a relationship with someone, you can give them a piece of your mind. Just let your feelings loose or some shit like that. You'd be able to move on.

Closure.

Or when you had a fight with your best friend and they didn't want to be friends with you, sometimes you'd feel like you did something wrong, or that it was your fault. But maybe after talking to them and understanding why things went south, you'd feel better.

Closure 

You see, that's what the blond seeked walking toward Pandora's Vault. What he seeked going to visit Dream. 

Instead, he found death.

He found a potato smashed against his head and then his dead older brother. Then a train station, a train and now he'd found a black abyss, unable to escape it.

You know what? Fuck closure. Fuck Dream. Fuck Wilbur. Fuck limbo. Fuck life. Fuck everyone and every goddamn thing! 

Then a voice called out his name- well not really his name, but a name. At least, he thought they were calling out to him.

"-oms? Thomas! Toms, wake up? Can you wake up for me? Come on, it's just a dream. It's okay, i'm here." A distant voice called out for him. He barely recognised it.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. Wait- light? There wasn't any light in limbo. At least not in his.

He groaned as he moved his hands to rub at his eyes. 

"Thomas! You're awake."

Wait. Not again. 

"Wilbur?" His vision became clearer as he saw a familiar tall figure standing in front of him. His guess would be around 6'6 but he was pretty sure that the man would seem taller because it seemed he was laying down in a- in a bed? It was quite cozy actually, and warm also. During the wars there wasn't really a chance to get or make a nice bed. People would make rushed and hard wooden beds for spawn points. It'd been long since he'd slept or even felt a bed this- this soft! 

But back to the kind-of-familiar-man. The man had familiar brown curly hair and round glasses. Along with a yellow sweater and red beanie, also oddly familiar. The only thing that Tommy didn't recognise was the smile on the man's face. It was a smile of concern? Relief? Amusement? The odd thing was though, his Wilbur never smiled at him like that. At least, not after Pogtopia. This smile was genuine. It made Tommy want to smile too. But then he remembered just who he was looking at.

"Hey hey, take it easy. You okay?" Wilbur said. Or not-Wilbur. This was just another fake Wilbur like the one in limbo. It didn't look like Pogtopia Wilbur, neither did it resemble limbo Wilbur. But this wasn't his Wilbur either. No lapis stained hands or blue liquid flooding out of his eyes- So not Ghostbur. So that really ruled out all the Wilbur's. This one does almost resemble his Wilbur- No- of course not. his Wilbur was gone, never to return. But the look on this Wilbur's face made him question if that was really true.

"Ugh, not again. Why am i here with you again!?" Tommy hissed. The man seemed taken aback by that. Tommy felt a pang of guilt but brushed it off easily.

"Tom- Thomas, did you have a bad dream?" The man said with a large frown on his face. He had that look on his face again. Tommy used his elbow to half-sit on the oh so soft bed. He was stealing this shit. Mine. The blond narrowed his eyes. Concern? Guilt? Pity? Tommy had to hide a groan as he threw his head back on to the cushions.

He took a moment to really take in the room he was in. It was a weird choice of furniture, for sure. It looked nice, not rushed or crafty. But it wasn't particularly beautiful either. There was a wooden (spruce? dark oak? maybe oak? It was a weird type of wood he hadn't seen before) closet across from him, placed in the corner. It was right next to a window which had weird whiteish pieces of cloth covering it. There was a weird wooden table what seemed to be some sort of small office with a chair across from it. On the table was some sort of bigger version of a communicator. Tommy was sitting on a bunk bed made with the same material the closet was made out of. The covers were a beige colour with a weird pattern. It seemed self-made but it was still quite cozy. Whoever made it must be really good in sewing. 'Some competition', He thought to himself. Tommy'd liked sewing shit when he wasn't busy fighting wars and all that. It was a nice hobby, quite peaceful.

Overall, this room wasn't anything he was used to. So when he was done observing it, he turned back to the man in front of him and answered his question. 

"No, what the fuck are you talking about?" Tommy sat up, leaning his back against the wall. The wall was an odd shade of light blue. A mix of cyan and arctic? Maybe a bit more teal or something similar? He wasn't an expert in colours, but it was a bright shade of blue.

The man that was making Tommy drive crazy with just the look on his face, walked toward the bed Tommy was currently sitting on and sat next to him, moving his hand to put over Tommy's shoulder, but Tommy made it very clear he didn't want to be touched, smacking the man's hand away, which made the man frown. "Thomas, are you okay?" He seemed very concerned. Yeah, no. This was definitely not the same man he met in limbo. But he was also different from the man that raised him. Who the fuck was this Wilbur? Was this even a Wilbur?

"Who the fuck are you, you impostor!"

"Impostor? Tom, it's me. Remember? Me, Wilbur Simons. You're Thomas Simons, my brother." 

What?

"What?" Tommy questioned. He was confused. Simons? Thomas? What? This was definitely not his Wilbur.

Also who the fuck was Thomas Simons? Apparently him, but not him! Was he in some kind of other body? Was he still even in limbo?

"I'm your brother, Wilbur Simons. You're Thomas Simons." The man repeated, with what seemed, unlimited patience. "You have another brother called Technoblade Watson and a father called Philza Watson. Do you remember?" Alright, Tommy recognised some names. They were definitely a little different, but probably still the same people. 'Phil' is probably a pretty common name but Technoblade? How many people are named after technology and a blade mixed into one? 

Wilbur stared him straight in his eyes. It made Tommy shudder. Tommy could feel the man's gaze ripping through his eyes, into his soul. But it wasn't anger ripping through, it was concern and sadness. Maybe even Grief?

"Uh, seems familiar, i guess?" The best he could do now, was gather intel. That's what his Techno taught him. After all he was in an unfamiliar place surrounded by people he didn't actually know, but seemed to know him. So he could best just gather information about this.. New server? Maybe? But why were there people he knew then? Ugh, this was confusing. "Can you uh, tell me about them? About me?"

Tommy stood up from where he sat on the bed and took two steps toward the door, having to hide a wince as he lost contact with the godlike bed. But he had to make sure he had an escape. He made sure that if Wilbur made any moves he could reach the door and escape before Wil could catch up to him.

"Uh, okay. So, uhm.. I'm Wilbur, or William. Techno, our older brother, also my twin, and Phil, our very old father," William, what Tommy was now going to call him, (and what was also an atrocious name, no offence to all the Williams out there, though) chuckled slightly as he seemed to go deep in thought. "-moved away to the Antarctic when i turned eighteen and you ten, and so we were left alone in the apartment we now live in. Techno's really bad at showing his emotions, but he does care. Phil's uhm.. Old? Uh, i don't really know what else there is to say, is there?" 

Well it seems Techno and Phil leaving also happened here, just a bit later. And Phil was also old, and Techno was also cold. Tommy was getting curious.

"And wars? What about the wars? L'Manberg? Oh, Tubbo! How's Tubbo?" 

"Tub- Tubbo? What? Who is Tubbo? And What do you mean wars? Like the World Wars? Also, L'Manberg is the country we live in, Toms."

"What? No, i mean the wars. The wars we fought. On the server! The Dream SMP! The- The- Pogtopia, Wil! The disc wars and- and the festival! Everything! With Schlatt and Dream and- and! Do you- Did you forget? Everything we've done? The fact that you blew up the same country we fought so hard for!" Tommy was growing frustrated. All the Wilbur's he knew, his Wilbur, Pogtopia Wilbur, Ghostbur, limbo Wilbur, at least they'd experienced (almost all of) the same things he'd experienced! (before he died, of course. Wilbur never experienced exile or anything after that). But this Wilbur seemed completely oblivious to everything! Everything!

"A-and Tubbo! You know, my best friend? Pogtopia's spy? Schlatt's son!?" 

"Schlatt's son- what? Thomas, what are you talking about? The former mayor didnt have a son!" Wilbur seemed to be growing frustrated as well, but not as as Tommy. 

"The- what!? Schlatt is mayor?"

"No, he died of a heart attack a few years back. Are you okay, Toms? Should i give you some space?" The previous frustration bubbling up inside of him, disappeared within an instant, replaced with concern, once again.

"No- i just- I need to- Oh god. I need to find Tubbo- to get out of here." Tommy took a few steps back to the door before he fully turned his back to Wilbur, ignoring his shouts and protests as he bolted for the door. He flung it open with as much force as he could, and ran out of the door. Almost tripping the way out as he used the walls around him as support. He ran past small corridors and weirdly decorated rooms until he finally found a door, which he guess would lead to the outside. He ran toward it and opened it, taking a deep breath as he appreciated the fresh air, filling his lungs. He moved his head back, seeing Wilbur running after him, and decided not to waste anymore time as he bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind him, almost tripping as he did so. 

It was strange, because this outside looked different than his outside. His outside was full of trees and wooden shacks, lakes and rivers, caves and holes in the ground, sheep, cows, pigs and chickens roaming around everywhere. But this outside was, well, different. There were weird buildings everywhere. And they weren't made of wood or bricks or even cobblestone? Almost all of them were made out of iron? Or maybe copper? Quartz? Some other form of wood he hadn't seen before? It wasn't oak, for sure. Tommy couldn't quite tell what the material exactly was. It seemed weird. Strange.

Never mind that, it wasn't exactly the main problem at hand here.

He looked back one more time before he ran toward and in the first building he saw. He spared one glance to the name written above the doorway but only really processed it when he'd ran inside.

Niki's Bakery.

the first thing he'd noticed when he'd entered; it was a beautiful place. There were lanterns hanging from the ceiling and flowers in pots placed just about everywhere. There were cakes (and some form of smaller cakes?) and big loafs of bread on wooden tables, in cabinets and in bowls. There was a pink haired woman standing behind a counter table, talking to other people. (customers?). She kindly waved them off and handed them one of the delicious looking cakes as they handed back some form of green paper.

The woman waited until the people took a seat at another table and then looked toward Tommy. Her smile widened a bit as she walked from behind the counter toward Tommy, stopping when she was right next to him and leading him toward the counter with one arm around his shoulder. Tommy didn't even care enough to flinch.

"Tom! I was wondering when you'd come today! Still got your pyjamas on today, forgot to put on some clothes?" The kind woman said, letting out an amused chuckle. But Tommy immediately recognised her. From her pastel pink hair cut to her shoulders, to her golden glasses, placed perfectly in front of her blue ocean eyes, almost more glistering than his own.

"Niki..?" Tommy was pretty sure Niki hated him. He didn't know particularly why but from what he remembered, Niki tried to kill him. Unless it was all a big misunderstanding, Niki had led him to a nuke testing place, apparently making a plan with Jack to lure him to the nuke and blow him up. Even after that, Tommy didn't hold any sort of grudge against the woman. And no, not just because she was a woman. Because Niki had always treated him with such kindness and respect (before the nuke thing of course). So Tommy really couldn't hold a grudge against her.

She was such a kind and gentle woman that it would be impossible to even think to dislike her. So for the first time since he woke up in this god awful nightmare, it'd felt less like a nightmare and more like a dream. And not just because Niki was there, but because she seemed to be back to her old ways. Instead of that anger and disgust in her eyes when she'd see Tommy, he was met with the same gentleness and kindness he'd always loved about her. And it made Tommy want to smile. So he did.

"That's me! So what kind of sugary sweetness would you like today, Thomas?" Niki smiled brightly at him as she gestured to all the delicious cakes. or well, he thought they were delicious. They certainly looked delicious.

"Eh, my name is Tommy.." Tommy ran a hand through his hair as he observed all the cakes in front of him. And no, he did not start drooling.

Niki let out a small chuckle as she placed her hands on her hips. "Tommy! That's a nice name, basically a cooler version of Tom, isn't it?" Tommy looked back up at the pink haired woman and grinned even wider. 

"I guess you could say that! I'm just such a cool and strong and manly and brave and-" Tommy was cut off mid sentence.

"And dangerous and tough and powerful and all of it, yeah, yeah." Tommy felt a small spark. It'd been a long time since someone would really banter with him, and enjoy it. For the first time since he'd woken up, something felt right. He did not almost cry.

"You forgot muscular. And yes you are right, i am very dangerous. After all, my full name is Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit" Tommy said with a big shit-eating grin on his face. Niki let out a joking sigh.

"Of course, my deepest apologies, sir Thomas- er- i mean, Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit, i pledge it will never happen again. Deepest condolences." Niki placed a hand on her heart and they just stared at eachother for a few moments, before completely losing it.  Niki's laugh was pretty small, but still big. It was a nice and genuine chuckle-ish laugh. Tommy, on the other hand, did not laugh as elegant. He had to hold his stomach as he laughed in a way he hadn't in a while, as he leant over. His laugh was loud and rash, but it was perfect, nonetheless. 

People were probably staring, but they kept laughing, and he loved it. Eventually they stopped and he cleared his throat, not even sparing a glance to the people staring around him.

Niki looked at him and they made eye contact, she smiled brightly. "So, really, what do you want to buy, Tommy?" She gestured toward all the cakes in front of him, behind glass.

He took a few seconds, really taking in the delicious cakes in front of him. Not only did they look good, they smelled heavenly. Tommy could only imagine how good they would taste.

There were a lot of different options, but one in particular caught his eye. "Uhhh, that one looks good?" He pointed at a rectangular, small, brown cake. It had some weird brown frosting (maybe?) on the top and some other stuff he didn't really know what it was.

"The brownie?" Niki asked, waiting for confirmation. Tommy just nodded, holding back laughter. He had no idea what a 'brown-ee' was, but whoever came up with the name was really stupid. He got that it was brown, but seriously. Brownie? Yeah, just take the colour and put 'ee' after it. Very creative. "Alright, that'll be three pounds!" She picked up one of the 'brown-ees' that Tommy pointed at and placed it on the counter, on a small plate.

"Pounds, pounds, right." He started digging in his pocket, trying to find anything. He'd hoped he would be able to grab one of those coloured paper pieces he saw the man hand Niki earlier. But unfortunately he wasn't able to find anything. Niki frowned.

"Did you forget your money? I mean, you're still wearing your pyjama clothes!" The woman seemed concerned, but Tommy had no idea what she was talking about.

Tommy dug through his pockets a few more time before giving up, taking his empty hands out of his pockets in disappointment. "Yeah, i guess. Sorry for wasting your time. This was really nice though, haven't laughed like that in a while! Heh." If he had to guess it was some sort of trade. The weird paper in exchange for the delicious cakes. So since he didn't have the paper, Niki couldn't really give him the cakes, which was disappointing, the cake looked really delicious, but he wasn't about to scam this kind woman! So he turned around and started walking back to the entrance.

But despite the fact he couldn't have a brown-ee, he still had fun. But now he'd have to figure out where to go. He didn't want to see that Wilbur again, not really. He just needed to take some time to relax. Oh! Tubbo! If tere's a Tubbo in this world, he should find him.  bo always knows what to do, he'd understand-

"Hey, Tommy wait!" Niki ran after him and tapped him on the shoulder. Tommy had to hide a flinch as he turned around. The woman had the brownie in her hand and handed it to him. "Tommy, it's three pounds, you come here everyday. It's really not a problem, it's on the house, alright?" Niki smiled at him, a genuine smile. That's the second time someone smiled like that at him. Tommy was just growing more and more confused.

Tommy handed it back to her. "I don't need your pity cake.", He said pouting. But deep down he knew that Niki would never pity on Tommy, she knew how much he despised pity.

Niki didn't spare a glance at the brownie handed back to her, keeping eye contact with Tommy. 

"Tommy, this isn't pity, i genuinely want you to enjoy the brownie. It's just a three pound cake and we're friends after all. Just eat it." Niki pushed it back into his hands as she kept her smile.

"Sooooo, i can keep it?" The boy said with hope in his voice, wearing a nervous grin.

Niki started walking back toward the counter, waving Tommy off as she did. "Like i said, it's on the house! Enjoy. We had a nice laugh, now go watch the sunset or something!" Niki walked behind the counter and spared him one more glance, before welcoming new customers.

Tommy walked out of the building with a brown-ee in his hand and a smile on his face. He walked towards a beach and he felt his toes digging into the sand, just realising he wasn't wearing any shoes.

God i must have looked like a desperate homeless boy, begging for a cake.

He hated beaches, hell he despised them. They reminded him of the party. And he didnt want to be reminded. He wanted to move on. But the sun was setting and he wanted a good view to eat this deliciousness in his hand. So he sat down on the sand and watched as the sun began to set. He liked watching the sun set, on a bench, with his friends, listening to a good music disc. Well, he wasn't sitting on a bench, nor was there a jukebox playing Cat or Mellohi, or any of his friends to laugh with. But there was the sand, the sun set and a brown-ee.

Tommy let out a sigh of relief and he crossed his legs, the sand itching his feet. His eyes fluttered a few times before he closed them. He imagined Cat playing in the background and imagined sitting next to Tubbo or Wilbur. He didn't know when he'd started humming the melody, but he opened his eyes and stared at the sun, which was slowly setting.

He took a bite of his brown-ee and his eyes lit up instantly as he did. He basically swallowed the whole thing whole, closing his eyes and enjoying it as much as he could. This was the best goddamn thing he'd ever ate in his life! 

When he finished he made sure he ate all the crumbs and bits, licking his fingers, savouring the taste the delicious thing had left on his tongue.

The view in front of him was beautiful and he placed both his hands behind his head, laying down on his back, looking at the sky. He continued humming the melody of his favourite music discs and his toes curled into the sand. He felt the fresh wind breeze against his cheeks as they were slowly turning red. 

He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath, appreciating the fresh air. 

This new place was pretty nice actually, almost better than where he was from. No wars, no explosions, no manipulation, no Dream.

Or well that's what he thought, before he felt a presence above him, shadowing him.

"Oi! You're blockin' my view you bloody bastard-" Tommy opened his eyes and sucked in a large breath. He definitely recognised him.

"Hey Thomas, what are you doing here?" The man standing above him said.

He wasn't wearing any mask or any form of a prison outfit, or even a green hoodie with that god forbidden smiley face on it. But Tommy would recognise that voice, that face, anywhere. He showed Tommy his face once, and Tommy never forgot it. He took in all the details and if he could draw, he would be able to make an exact replica of his face. And the voice, the voice Tommy'd heard for about half a year, every day, waking up. The same voice that had abused and manipulated him, telling him to 'Put his things in the hole.' 

The man standing before him, the same man that beat him to death and took his last life, all of his lives, actually. He was standing right there. And Tommy could do nothing, only whisper his name, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Dream..?"

And then everything went black.