Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy felt as if he was floating, heat encompassing him as he drifts through his life- his memories. Before the alternate worlds, before the apocalypse- Tommy saw every moment of his life play out before him. He knew he was dying.

Did you know, that in your final moments your mind desperately throws memories at you in hopes of finding a way to survive? A spider-web of information shattering before your eyes, searching within the depths of consciousness for a clue, a way to fight whatever death has sent your way. Tommy knew there was no fighting the infection. He was going to die sooner or later.

The groans of his zombie army surrounded his steel cage, ignoring him as he rests against the warm concrete beneath him. He raises his eyes towards the base before him, catching the gaze of the only person who truly had trust in him. Tommy felt he should say something- anything. A farewell maybe, a final goodbye before he lost himself.

“Goodbye, Charlie”, he said, resting his head back on the pavement. He was unable to fight the heat surrounding himself anymore. And with Charlie’s next words, Tommy knew the man was still in denial of his fate.

“Goodnight, Tommy.” He said. Goodnight, not goodbye. Tommy grimaced, no longer caring about what the future held for him. His body may continue on, but his mind was fading. He was immune to the zombification of the virus, somehow, but the mind was fragile, and sensitive.

And with that, Tommy surrendered, letting the coldness of death embrace him, leading him away from what remained of that putrid world. He couldn’t help but notice the gentleness in which Death had held him, a gentleness he had rarely been shown while living. Maybe things would have turned out differently otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t have become patient zero.

Maybe, just maybe, if he had a family who stuck by him, he could’ve been happy.

Kristin was nearly heartbroken. An infinite amount of possibilities and timelines, and yet in nearly every one she had to endure the pain of her golden boy. Why must her child suffer countless times?

Kristin was not allowed to interfere with human affairs, with certain exceptions of course. The other Gods forbid contact. She was no fool, however, and knew of the gods which disregarded the rules.

Wiping a single tear from her cheek, she felt determination settle within her astrial form. She was going to interfere.

It was then an opportunity presented itself to the Goddess. Two timelines, matching up closely enough for her to swoop in. An apocalyptic world, and a world bathed in war. One where a child was fading to illness, and another where he stood in the clouds, ready to step off.

She gave a sad smile and entered their worlds.

Salt was the first thing Tommy could taste when he regained consciousness. That, and the feeling of wood pressing against his back. His eyelids began to flutter open.

A blinding light greeted him alongside an explosion of senses. His mind struggled to keep up, but he swore he could hears waves distantly lapping at shore, the wind whispering it’s travels as it moves across the world. Something wasn’t right. He was supposed to be dead, but the chills convulsing throughout his body disproved that theory.

Despite the deep cold settling within his bones, Tommy looked around. All he saw was clouds- wait... He began to panic as clarity returned to him, quickly taking in his surroundings and yielding no results as to where he was.

Tommy tried sitting up, but the wood that was pressing against him turned painful as it dug into his skin. How did he even get here? Out of the cage? Did Charlie decide he didn’t trust him after all and moved him? Tommy didn’t know what had happened.

“The fuck?” Tommy cursed, nothing except him and the sky to hear. He shifted his position and realized he was stationed on a pillar hundreds of feet in the sky. How is that even possible? He couldn’t see a way down, never mind how someone got him up there in the first place. Maybe he did it himself- but he had no memory of it.

Tommy noticed a beach in the distance, meaning he was far from the city. Putting that observation aside, Tommy began to think of ways to get down from his perch. He patted himself down in search of materials and felt a stack of blocks in his inventory. Tommy felt relief flood through him. He could speed bridge his way towards the water. The only issue was estimating how far he needed to jump.

With a plan in mind, Tommy stood up, but he underestimated the stability of the tower, and immediately began slipping off as it swayed.

“Oh shit- guess we’re doing this now then!” he yelled, materializing the wood planks out of his inventory and speed bridging like his life depended on it- which it did. A string of curses followed the shaky bridge forming in the sky, exclaims of, “Why is this suddenly more difficult??” accompanying it.

Tommy’s momentum carried him forward until he was just over the waves. Without missing a beat, he lept towards the sea and braced himself. As the wind rushed up around him and the world burst into view, he tried to recall the last time he went swimming. His surroundings fell to silence as he plunged into his memories.

A young Tommy, maybe around the age of five, filters into view, the sun high in the sky as the rays burn into the sand. He hears a woman’s laughter in the distance and seeks her out- but the walls of his memory are distorted, and the sound glitches and screams. It’s loud-too loud-too much for Tommy. He doesn’t want to remember anymore. Whoever the woman was had left him a long time ago. 

The impact of the water wakes him from his mind, as he feels a stinging pain on his skin. The coolness of the ocean relieves the burning heat he wasn’t aware of. It takes him a moment to come back to himself, but he begins swimming towards the light. As he breaks the surface, he takes a moment to breath the salty air- to feel the rush of oxygen throughout his body. The warmth of the sun on his face was relaxing, but Tommy needed to get to shore.

He looked around, spotting the tower he was on like a beacon in the night, and began to swim. As the sand manifested under his feet, he fought the waves until he was free from the ocean’s grasp. Tommy collapsed onto the shore, his wet clothes irritating his skin. He could feel the sand beneath him, and briefly wondered if it would taste as good as flesh.

Tommy listened to the sounds around him, and noticed it was quiet. Not a single groan was heard, the sound of rotting flesh shuffling around was absent, as was the stench of meat. Now that he was safe on the ground, he needed to figure out where the fuck he was and what happened.

As Tommy sat up, he began to go over what he knew so far; he knew he wasn’t in the city, that’s for damn sure. Where the fuck was he? Part of him wanted to not find out, to live on this island in bliss and forget what he left behind- but he knew he had sacrificed too much for his goals to do that. After all, he brought the virus into the world to save it and abandoning his cause would accomplish nothing.

Pushing his thoughts away, Tommy began to explore. He investigated the tower first, noticing no signs of someone else building it. He must have built it himself and forgotten.

Turning his attention to the craters, he found he didn’t really care about the story of this place. Sure, he was curious to an extent, but there were barely any people left in the world anyway.

Tommy was no stranger to explosions and craters. This could have been a settlement that was overrun for all he knew. He began to scavenge the remains of whatever camp this had been, but ultimately found nothing but burn marks and scorched earth.

It was clear that these blasts were from humans, as zombies hadn’t evolved enough to rig TNT. Perhaps he was the one who set up the blasts, and towered above to avoid them? It was a good theory, but it didn’t explain the lack of zombies and most importantly corpses.

Where to go now, Tommy didn’t know. He decided he would venture through the woods, hoping for a nearby camp he could charm his way into. Leaving the ruins behind him, he set foot into a wilderness untouched by his virus- a world still brimming with conflict, countries, friendships, and families.

Tommy stared at the creature in front of him, face morphing into disgust, curiosity, and wonder. He stood behind a tree, just watching the creature shuffle around through the forest. It wasn’t a zombie, that much was clear.

The smell of gunpowder hung in the air like a death sentence. It intrigued Tommy, but his past adventures amongst survivors had taught him to observe before acting. Too many times had Tommy almost been shot charging out to greet humans.

Tommy has never seen a creeper before. Skeletons, yes. Spiders, kind of. They were smaller in his world. Zombies, of course. But a walking stick of dynamite? Not at all.

What the fuck was that thing? Tommy watched as the creature turned towards him, deep eye sockets staring him down. Had the creature finally noticed him? What would it do now? Tommy stood with bated breath.

The creature had no arms but seemed to compensate by having four legs- if he could even call them that. The appendages were more spider-like. It also had grainy, green skin which reeked of sulfur. There’s no way that this was some sort of mutation, right? He has seen zombies explode before, not to mention the zombie with fucking sword-arms back in the lab. The smell is what threw him off. Sure, there were exploding zombies, but they still had that rotting stench around them.

Tommy started to grow bored, still in a staring contest with whatever the fuck was in front of him. He decided to show this thing who was boss around here, he’s the Biggest Man after all. Tommy stepped out from behind the tree, false bravado carrying his every step.

“OI! DICKHEAD!” he shouted, “The fuck are you?”

The thing didn’t respond to him. If anything, it almost seemed annoyed with his shouting. Tommy continued to step closer and closer, watching for any sudden movements. So far, the creature seemed harmless, albeit creepy.

The stepping around and creepiness of the situation could only entertain Tommy for so long. After determining that Mr. Creepy over here was harmless, he decided to convert him to his cult, AKA the ZomBros.

“Now listen, I’m awesome- you’re creepy, but we can make this work. I have some friends you’d get along great with-“Tommy began, throwing his arm around the creature’s torso as he spoke. Turns out, you shouldn’t touch random creatures you meet in the woods, as a hissing sound slowly filled the air.

Confused, Tommy only watched as a lightning patterned glow began to crack through the thing’s body before flashing. It was amazing to watch, how the light spread like blood from a wound. However, when it finally clicked for Tommy that the glowing meant danger, he rips his arm away and cursed.

He attempted to run away, but didn’t get far before an explosion ripped through the space around him, sending him flying towards the trees- heat tearing at his back as he was propelled forwards. Tommy collided with the base of the tree, vision spinning and back aching. He managed to turn his head towards the now scorched crater where he had been a moment ago, smoke rising towards the sky.

What is with this place and explosives? Tommy began to cough violently, the pain mixed with his blackened vision causing him to feel ill. He clawed at the snow beneath him, hoping the cold would combat the heat.

Tommy may have been wobbling on the edge of unconsciousness, but he could’ve sworn he heard concerned shouts in the distance. A voice faintly echoed as it grew closer, a transparent silhouette came into view.

“Tommy? Tommy why are you so far from-“the voice stopped suddenly, noticing the small form curled up at the base of a charred tree.

“Oh, Oh no. This isn’t good, you’re hurt!” The voice spoke, echoing in Tommy’s ears as he struggled to stay awake. He could feel a cold hand shaking his arm, and something get shoved into his palm. The worried voice stayed by his side, fretting over him before getting up.

“Tommy, I’m going to try and carry you, but I don’t know how far I’ll get before it starts snowing.” Tommy felt himself being lifted slightly, his body leaning against what appeared to be a yellow sweater. He could tell through his delirium that the person was struggling to hold him upright.

He tried to ask how he knew his name, but his mouth felt like lead, his whole body weighing him down as pain mixed with fire and ice. The black spots in his vision grew worse, and he could tell he was about to pass out again.

Time seemed to pass strangely. He knew that he was being spoken to, but the voice of the stranger seemed to bounce around his head. As the duo breeched the tree line, Tommy finally let his eyes close, too tired to keep them open. As the wooden house in the distance began to blur, he thought he saw a flash of pink dart towards him.

The world melted away once more.

Chapter Text

The wind screamed against him as he ran through the dense forest. Caring not for the sting of snow against his body, he pushed onward, the image of his little brother burned into his mind. He had to keep running. For Tommy.

As steam began to rise from his new wounds, he caught a glimpse of salvation in the distance. The familiar silhouette of a cabin stood against the snow. Ghostbur felt his lips twinge up despite the pain he was in. His lungs heaved despite not needing to breathe, a habit which stuck with him from life.

He saw movement in the window, and hope burned bright in his chest. He charged through the tree line and bolted up the stairs to the cabin. Wasting no time, he began to pound on the door as if his life depended on it.

His mind felt muddled, as if it was trying to clear itself of the events which just transpired, but Ghostbur grasped the memories with desperation. He couldn’t allow himself to forget. If he forgot, then Tommy would probably die.

The door slammed open, revealed a startled and weary Technoblade, the Axe of Peace by his side. His eyes scanned Ghostbur before searching the landscape behind him- possibly for danger.

“Techno! I-I need your help! Come come!” Ghostbur yelled, grabbing at Techno’s wrist and attempting to pull him along. He didn’t make much progress considering how solid Techno was.

“Wil- Ghostbur, what are you talking about?” He asked, and Ghostbur chose to ignore the slipup. He felt fear claw up his chest. If his heart still beat, it would probably be going a mile a minute.

“It’s Tommy. He- He’s going to die.” Ghostbur said with an air of seriousness Techno hadn’t felt since November 16^th. Despite Technoblade’s conflicted and betrayed feelings about the gremlin, he wasn’t about to let him die.

With that, he followed Ghostbur through the snow and towards the wounded boy.

Techno’s chat was becoming unbearable. Ever since Ghostbur mentioned Tommy, his head had been filled with conflicting thoughts and opinions. Shouts of “Blood for the Blood God”, “Traitor”, and “TechnoSoft” swirled around him.

Despite the chaos of the voices, Techno managed to help Ghostbur bring Tommy inside. Closing the door, Techno immediately grabbed some logs from his storage and threw them into the fireplace. The sound of his flint and steel clinking against each other filled the room before the fireplace roared to life.  

He turned back to his brothers- if he could even call them that. One of them was a shell of his former self, lost to insanity and the piercing blade of their father. The other, well, even Techno didn’t know what had happened. The betrayal he felt from being used as just a weapon had never fully faded. It sat and festered; a thought tossed aside to be dealt with later.

Seeing Tommy on his couch, covered in bruises and burns, did nothing to ease Techno’s conflictions. Neither did Chat, who were still fighting amongst themselves in the background.

TOMMY!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

Please let Tommy stay!

BLOOOOOOOD

DO NOT HARM TOMMY

Team with Tommy

Techno ignored chat, opting to look at Ghostbur who was sitting by Tommy. He briefly wondered if Ghostbur still remembered everything that happened.

“Ghostbur, watch Tommy while I brew some potions. Yell if he wakes up.” Techno told him, not waiting for a response as he climbed the ladder leading to where he kept his potion ingredients. Originally, he had planned to cure his zombie villagers today, but Ghostbur quickly disrupted that plan.

Sighing, Techno grabbed a golden apple and some blaze powder. He began to brew some strength and regeneration potions, listening for any movement upstairs.

What was he going to do after Tommy was healed? Phil was stuck in L’manberg still, and last he heard Tommy was exiled.

What even happened to him?

Exile

Exile

What about the tower?

Dream

Tower Tower Tower

“Tower? What tower?” Techno mumbled out loud.

HE’S DONE IGNORING US

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

Pog

That’s not Tommy

EEEEEEEEE

The sounds of the potions finishing drew Techno out of his thoughts. He took the potions off of their stands and put them in his inventory. He quickly looked around for some first aid equipment too. Techno remembers seeing Tubbo wrapped in bandages after the festival, and he wondered if Tommy would gain any scars from this.

He found some gauze and made his way upstairs. Ghostbur had left Tommy’s side and was now scanning the yard, maybe for people or mobs Techno didn’t know.

Techno kneeled and looked over Tommy. Something was different about him. He could’ve sworn Tommy’s hair had been lighter last time he saw him. As he started to bandage up Tommy’s wounds, making sure to dab a bit of regeneration on them before wrapping. His face looked peaceful, which was strange.

Even back in Pogtopia, Tommy had never seemed at peace. Techno remembers hearing Tommy wake up in the middle of the night, breaths sharp and quick. No other sounds would come from the boy, but Techno knew it was out of survival instinct. When you go to war at such a young age, the idea of even a slight sound could mean the death of you. Techno knew what that was like.

Techno moved Tommy’s hair off his forehead to check his temperature when he noticed something off. There should be a slight scar right under his hairline from when he lost the duel to Dream. The gears in Techno’s head began turning as he tallied up everything he’d noticed about the boy.

Kill him!

Blood blood BLOOD

He’s not our Tommy

Talk to Phil

Phil might know what’s wrong

KICK HIM OUT

Despite his suspicions, Techno decided to leave Tommy be for the night. He could interrogate him once he’s recovered more, maybe even reach out to Phil and see if magic was involved.

“I think I’ll stay here for tonight, with Tommy.” Came a voice full of echoes. Techno had forgotten Ghostbur was here.

“Alright. I’m turning in for the night. We can check his bandages in the morning.”

Ghostbur seemed to nod at that, turning his attention back to Tommy. An overwhelming feeling of wrongness seemed to coil around the whole situation, but Techno would just have to wait until the morning.

Techno had woken up to a smiling Ghostbur sitting in his living room. He was immediately confused, before realizing what had happened.

“Hello Technoblade! You didn’t tell me Tommy was sleeping over! This is awesome!” The ghost happily cheered. Techno looked at him with pity.

“Sorry Ghostbur, I must’ve forgot to tell you.” He responded, eyes wandering to the sleeping form of Tommy. He had planned to ask Ghostbur about the events leading up to yesterday, but he hadn’t taken the ghost’s unstable memory into account.

L

Poor Wilbur :(

Stupid ghost

DON’T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!

EEEEEE

As Ghostbur happily walked around the cabin, Techno’s communicator started to go off repeatedly. Ghostbur stood by the front window, humming a familiar tune as Techno fished out his communicator. What he saw made him freeze.

It was Phil.

DANGER

Phil has been compromised!!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

Two messages flashed onto the screen.

Philza: They know where you are, get ready old friend.

Philza: They found the compass.

Who was Phil referring to? Was he talking about L’manberg? Techno looked at Tommy, who he had used all his potions on the night prior. This wasn’t good. He had an unconscious child on his couch who couldn’t defend himself, and an unknown group of, probably angry, people coming towards them right this second.

Techno had to prepare. He quickly rummaged through his storage looking for anything of use. He managed to find a single strength potion as well as a few splash potions of poison. He thought about the two people in his living room and decided to create a backup plan for if things went south.

He went outside and pulled a lead out of his inventory. Techno knew Carl wouldn’t like being tied up, but he needed him to be ready just in case. He was leading him towards the back of the cabin when his communicator buzzed for a third time.

It was an incoming call from Phil. Technoblade wasted no time in answering it, tying a pouch of food onto Carl’s saddle at the same time.

“Hallo-“

“Techno, I can’t talk for long, but they’re almost at your base. I need to go now, but please be careful.” Phil said, ending the call before Techno could question exactly who ‘they’ were. He supposed he would find out soon enough.

He stepped through the doorway to his living room, filled with determination. Though he does not trust Tommy, he would still protect him if he was within his walls.

Techno steeled his nerves. An echo rang out.

“Techno! We have visitors!”

Chapter Text

When a body is suspended in water, is it floating?

Is it calm? At peace?

Safe from danger?

Are these feelings born through deceit?

The void, boundless yet bare, holds him gently.

It coerces him to trust, and drags him deeper into darkness.

Before he learns of it, he’s already descended into the confines of madness.

He has become the darkness, become the monster under the bed.

People fear him.

But it’s okay, a gentle voice reassures.

‘The ones who fear you are misinformed.’

And the voice is truth.

After all, monsters do not seek the comfort of shadows.

After all, true monsters,

Walk in the light.

Chapter Text

A breeze ruffles Tommy’s hair as he sits in a field of grass. The blue sky, all encompassing, rolls over the fields, painting what can only be a beautiful picture. Tommy lay there, cushioned by the soft grass and the sounds of the birds around him. Peace, serenity, tranquility. All these words can be used, but none would be enough to describe the pure emotion he feels running through him.

And then, a song, so gentle he hadn’t noticed it at first, floats among the wind. It carries with it flashes of memories long buried, and Tommy can’t help but wish to chase after it.

And so, he does. He stands from his bed of green and makes his way down the rolling hills of comfort, tranquility, and naivety. He bids the blue sky goodbye as he follows this sweet, sweet voice. He is nothing but a lonely sailor, dragged forth by the sickening melody of a distant siren.

He continues forward, and the scenery shifts away. The blue fades, as does the grass, until his feet are touching dirt, and the birds have gone silent.

But then he hears it.

The melody, a soothing voice summoning him forward despite what may await him in the darkness. It tugs at his mind, wrapping around his very soul until he can feel nothing but the need to discover.

He feels as if he is a puppet, his legs moving on their own and the melody grows in volume and intensity. There is no scenery now, just darkness and the reflections of his mind. It’s dark, so very dark, but he does not feel fear. If anything, there is a resounding sadness within the walls of his mind.

It’s just him, like it was before.

The melody ceases, and Tommy feels a grief so crushing he might as well perish on the spot. He wants to hear the tune again, needs to hear it. He feels himself unraveling, the lights of his mind flashing, his thoughts roaring past like thunder in a storm before he feels himself falling.

The ground vanishes and he is falling. He doesn’t know for how long, but he finally reaches the bottom.

Silence.

There’s only him and silence.

He lets out a startling cry. There’s pain, so much of it.

He curls up, wishing he had stayed in the fields of green with the endless blue sky. The gentle wind which caressed his hair and whispered to him. The birds which watched him and the ground which held him.

Why did he leave it all behind?

He cries, until he can’t cry any longer.

He wakes up.

Whatever dream he had is lost to him now, despite the distant sadness resonating within him. Tommy opens his eyes and sees a wooden ceiling. Huh, that’s new.

Where was he exactly? Tommy sits up and searches his memory despite the sharp pain in his skull. He remembers the pillar; he remembers the water-

The cold, dark water. The endless water and the feeling of drowning. The sinking turns into falling and he’s trapped falling and falling and falling-

He remembers walking into the woods and finding a creature he had never seen before. It was weird. His memories after that are, blurry, in a sense.

Tommy looks around the room he’s in. It’s very cozy for one. He tries to stand up, but there’s a burning pain in his side as he does. He lets out a gasp before falling back onto the couch. Tommy lay there, breathing steadily as he takes in his condition.

He’s covered in bandages, with no memory of receiving them. Should he be worried? He thinks maybe he should be, but all he can feel is hunger.

Wait shit-

He needs to eat something.

How long had he been out for? Questions swirl through Tommy’s mind as he once again attempts to stand, finding his footing despite the shake of his legs. He looks around frantically, spotting chests along the wall. Perfect! He can work with this.

Now the hard part: moving.

He’s got this. He’s TommyInnit, what can’t he do? He started the fucking apocalypse! Confidence coursed through Tommy’s veins as he takes a shaky step towards the chest. He holds his breath, waiting to suddenly topple over like a Jenga tower, but nothing happens.

Tommy takes another, and another, until he is almost within arm’s reach of his prize. He feels excitement begin to build up inside him but pushes it down.

He takes his final step, and everything goes to shit.

His legs give out on him, and Tommy grabs on to the closest thing to him, which ended up being a windowsill. He pauses for a moment, like a child who just made a loud noise at two AM and doesn’t want to get caught.

Nothing happens. Tommy gets distracted by the sounds of shouting. How he didn’t hear it before he doesn’t know, but he finds himself looking out the window at what’s seemingly a battle.

Five men are battling outside, four of them seem to be targeting one man in particular. Through the chaos, Tommy can make out a blur of pink hair and holy shit-

Tommy is awestruck.

Technoblade daces through the battlefield with strength and fluidity. He attacks with the might of an army, and retreats like a well-trained revolutionary. His movements are precise, meticulous. And by God is he winning.

Tommy sits there for a bit, just watching as Technoblade destroys the opposing army. An idea pops into his head, no doubt suggested to him by the virus. Technoblade would have no problems cutting down whatever army Tommy can scrounge up. That being said, if he could get the warrior on his side, then the plan to reform this world would be easy!

After all, if you can’t beat them, make them join you!

Tommy wishes he could watch the fight longer, but his eyesight begins to blur at a rapid rate. Hunger claws at him, and if he doesn’t find something to eat soon, the virus will probably force him to do something drastic. The fight seems to be ending soon anyway, one of the smaller opponents now screaming for "Big Q", whoever that is.

He turns away from the window and-

“Tommy?”

“WHAT THE FUCK-“

Crash!

Tommy lays on the floor, a broken picture frame resting nearby. He stares at the- is it a man? The.. Ghost(?) in front of him. There’s an awkward silence as the pair stare at each other.

Tommy clears his throat, “How y’do?”

Chapter Text

Five men stand in the middle of a snowy field. Stiff, silent, determined.

On one side stands the Butcher army: Quackity and Tubbo at the front with Fundy providing flank and Ranboo standing off to the side, a hesitant look dawning his features.

A branch rustles in the forest.

“Technoblade.” Tubbo starts, sword already drawn by his side as he mirrors Quackity. He opens his mouth to continue, but is quickly cut off by Quackity, who takes a step forward.

Before he even speaks, Techno knows he will win.

Their ragtag army is disheveled, unorderly, with Quackity growing impatient and greedy. Technoblade smirks to himself as the voices begin to rise. Their army is disjointed…

The voices rise in a deadly chorus, minds joined together as they chant; a unified force of chaos to be unleashed upon their foes.

“You have done so much damage to everything we’ve done Techno,” Quackity spits out, face contorting to show his unbridled rage. “It’s time for you to come with us.”

Techno takes a deep breath, scolds his expression into a more open, honest one. The voices rally behind him, craving vengeance and blood. He pushes them down. Not yet.

“I moved away from you all and you still tracked me down. I’ve changed my violent ways.” He appeals to their emotions, but it has no effect on them. Well, perhaps Ranboo if their nervous shuffling means anything.

Tubbo pinches his nose bridge and Quackity looks two seconds away from screaming. This must be about something more personal, right? There’s no way Quackity’s anger was born from the destruction of L’manberg alone.

“Alright, just come with us Techno, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Tubbo looks disappointed, but what did he expect was going to happen? Oh, Techno will just happily come back to New L’manberg to have a tea party and discuss his war crimes! That will work!

Techno thinks back to the boy sleeping in his house, damaged and... off. There’s no way he can abandon him, not while he’s vulnerable.

“If there’s no other way…” Techno drawls, whispers turn into screams for blood. A symphony of violence washes over him as he feels the will of hundreds power his very soul.

“If there’s no other way, I CHOOSE BLOOD!” Techno billows, throwing down potions of strength and regen, taking satisfaction in the way the glass shatters amongst the snow. The world falls away, and all that’s left is him... and his enemy.

His instincts scream for him to target Quackity first, and he obeys. He moves through the battlefield as swiftly as light itself, until he is slashing at Quackity with his blade. He watches as Quackity stumbles backwards, desperately trying to stay balanced.

Fundy rushes Techno from behind, but Technoblade is faster. He dips down and swiftly kicks Fundy’s legs out from beneath him, sending the fox forwards. He blindly swings his axe at Techno, who dodges the attempts as if it were a sparring match with a child. Techno grabs Fundy’s wrist and knees him in the stomach, effectively disarming him. The axe is sent flying until it embeds itself into a tree, millimeters away from Ranboo’s head.

Tubbo and Quackity attempt to flank Techno, charging in from either side in an attempt to save Fundy. Techno lets Fundy scramble back while he blocks Tubbo’s axe. He uses the momentum to shove him into Quackity, losing his shield in the process.

Techno sets his sights on Ranboo but is distracted by a sudden attack from Fundy. He sidesteps Fundy’s punch, instead grabbing his arm and flipping him onto the snow. His head makes contact with the ground and knocks him out cold.

Tubbo is still recovering when Techno advances. He can see Quackity looking around frantically while Ranboo tends to Fundy. The voices are singing, but not satisfied. They watch Tubbo struggle to right himself as Techno approaches menacingly. He could take Tubbo’s final life right now, end the cycle of Government right where it stands.

His sight fades to red, blood is the only thing on his mind as he stares at Tubbo beneath him. His lips are moving, but Techno can no longer hear. Techno makes quick work of Tubbo’s shield, leaving the president defenseless. He raises his axe high above his head and-

He hesitates.

Why?

He sees the look in Tubbo’s eyes, the fear, the regret... but what Techno did not expect to see… was joy. Why? Why is there joy buried within his eyes? Joy at the prospect of death?

It almost reminds Techno of himself.

Techno’s surroundings begin to flicker in. He sees Ranboo trying to keep an unconscious Fundy upright, a look of horror engraved into their face as he watches Techno.

Tubbo scrambles away from Techno, and he lets him. The voices begin to scream, outraged and craving blood, but a single voice silences them.

“Technoblade! Stop Stop!”

Quackity.

Techno turns towards Quackity only to see him inches away from the front door of his cabin. He holds TNT in one hand and a lighter in the other. His eyes are desperate as he smirks at Technoblade.

“If you so much as move, I’m blowing up this house.” He speaks, each word spoken slowly with a deadly seriousness. Him and Techno stare at each other, neither of them moving. The clearing grows silent as the duo fight a battle of wills.

Techno notices how Quackity is standing right beneath where Tommy is sleeping.

“Drop your weapons on the ground, and the house stays.”

Techno has no choice. Were Tommy not inside, he wouldn’t care if Quackity blew it up. He would’ve just rebuilt it. However, by giving in to Quackity’s demands, Techno would be revealing his weakness to the butcher army.

Techno begins to throw his weapons onto the snow slowly. He starts with his tools, working his way up to his trident. The only sound comes from the items hitting the snow. Once he’s done, Tubbo makes his way over, clutching his injured arm, and picks up all the items. He struggles to carry it, and Techno can’t help but feel a bit irritated at his predicament.

He needs to buy himself some time, think up a plan that doesn’t involve Tommy getting blown to bits. It’s almost funny in a way, never did Techno think Tommy would be his Achilles heel, but here he was, losing a battle because of the blonde gremlin.

Quackity likes to talk, Techno notices. He likes to feel in control, like every interaction is a game and he must win. Techno uses this to his advantage.

He looks Quackity in the eye, “You’re bluffing. Blowing up my house gets rid of your only leverage on me.”

There’s a glint in Quackity’s eye that Techno can’t quite identify. He briefly wonders if it’s similar to Wilbur’s glint. The two would have gotten along had government not been involved.

“You seem to forget that we are the ones armed Technoblade. We can easily kill you,” Quackity replies coolly, a smirk on his face as he stares towards Techno. It only makes Techno chuckle. After all, Quackity revealed their weakness before the battle even started.

“Do you think you’re enough Quackity? Even unarmed, do you think you’re enough to kill me?” He taunts, a smile on his face. He knows he struck a nerve when Quackity’s smirk snaps into a snarl.

“Even if I can’t, there is something you’re trying to protect in this house. The Technoblade I knew wouldn’t disarm himself for some shit build.” Wow, that was uncalled for. The voices agree, Quackity crossed the line.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I worked really hard on that house. It’s a sturdy house.” Techno argues, offended that Quackity would even suggest the idea.

“It’s shit!”

Tubbo steps forward to get a better look at the cabin, “I think it’s pretty nice actually, I like the design.”

Ranboo is in the back nodding his head.

Techno turns toward Tubbo, “Thank you! I’m glad someone admires my building skills.”

Quackity only glares at Tubbo, who looks down in embarrassment. The mood instantly sours.

“Enough of this, throw down your armor too. I’m not fucking around!” Quackity yells, holding the lighter closer to the TNT.

Techno huffs, making a show of reaching for his boots slowly. Fortunately, luck was on his side as a loud crash was heard from inside the cabin. Wait-

No time to dwell. With everyone distracted, Techno bolts towards Quackity. He gets there in a matter of seconds, leaving Quackity no time to turn and defend himself. Techno grabs the hand holding the TNT and bends it away at a painful angle. Quackity lets out a pained gasp as he accidentally lets go of the TNT on reflex. Techno snatches it up and kicks Quackity towards the rest of the butcher army.

Now he has the upper hand.

“Now you listen to me. You can either leave, or I can light this and send it towards the rest of your group- and by the look of things, they’re not in that good of shape after this.” Techno spoke, words dripping with seriousness despite the lighthearted jab.

Techno saw it all; He saw the way Tubbo favored his left leg, cradling his arm which held a long gash in it. He saw Ranboo still struggling to hold Fundy upright who remained unconscious. The only fighter left relatively unharmed was Quackity; the one who showed Techno his weakness before he even spoke.

Quackity had yet to notice. That, or he doesn’t care. Quackity looks around, seeing the fear in Ranboo’s eyes as they stand over Fundy. Tubbo looks pensive, eyes flicking between the pair.

“You’re scared, Techno. You have no weapons, and you’re protecting something. Even with that TNT, you’re still outnumbered,” Quackity sneered.

“Is this enough for you, Quackity?”

Everyone goes silent.

Techno stands, TNT in hand and mouth opened to speak, but the words were not his. His focus turns to Ranboo, who stands defiantly, no longer holding Fundy. Quackity’s gaze hardens.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asks.

“I asked if this was enough for you. Look at us!” Ranboo yells, gesturing to Fundy and Tubbo. “If he were to throw that TNT, there’s no way we would all be able to dodge it in time. But you already know that don’t you?” The anger and hurt is evident in Ranboo’s voice, and Techno honestly wasn’t expecting such an outburst from the kid.

Neither was Quackity.

“Know your place Ranboo-“

“No, Quackity,” Tubbo interrupts, all eyes snapping in his direction, “Know your own place.”

Techno wishes he had popcorn. Does that even exist in this timeline?

Quackity looks appalled, “Excuse me?”

“Last time I checked; I was the President of New L’manberg- not you. And as President, I say that our people come before petty conflicts.” Ranboo looks at Tubbo with admiration and gratefulness.

“Petty? He blew up our nation Tubbo! We have him cornered!” Quackity sputters, not believing what’s happening. Tubbo doesn’t seem to care.

“I’m ordering a retreat, Quackity. It’s in your best interest to follow.” Tubbo turns to help Ranboo with Fundy, ignoring Quackity’s complaints. Quackity huffs before glaring at Techno.

“This isn’t over.” He says before following his president.

As the army begin to leave, Techno calls out to them, “Hey uh, can I get by stuff back?”

His only answer is getting flipped off by Quackity.

Techno gives himself a moment to process what just happened. He lets out a shaky breath and composes himself. He’s lost all his weapons, but he still has his armor luckily. Speaking of which, he should probably check out what that crash was.

Techno walks up the stairs and opens the door. Of all things, he didn’t expect to see a frantic Tommy picking up glass with his… bare hands?? Something is wrong with this kid. Techno notices a picture frame holding his wanted poster lays on the ground behind Tommy. He must’ve knocked it off the wall somehow.

Ghostbur is talking animatedly to Tommy and trying to stop him from using his hands, but he has no effect on the gremlin. Upon opening the door, both parties freeze and look to see Technoblade, covered in snow and blood staring at them from the doorway.

“Technoblade! Thank god you’re here!” Ghostbur whispers out, not understanding that he doesn’t need to be quiet anymore.

Tommy stares at him for a moment. Then he tries to stand up and walk over to Technoblade.

“Why hello there! The name’s Tom-“He doesn’t make it very far before he stumbled and falls on his face. Techno lets out a long sigh, realizing he can’t handle this alone.

“Ghostbur, call Phil please.”

“Okay!”

Chapter Text

There was a lot on Phil’s mind after… the incident… at Techno’s cabin.

Phil had been content at first, simply watching the interaction from the safety of the surrounding forest. He had a pretty nice view if he was being honest. That, and the fact that his crows would relay whatever he wasn’t able to see. Everything had been fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Phil had noticed it before his crows did, surprisingly. In the background, there was movement. A face almost, but he was too far away to make out any features. Phil found it odd to be someone in the cabin, but the escalating fight stole his attention.

But even Phil’s old eyes could see there was something off with the fight. Technoblade, known as a ruthless killer, was holding back. Anyone else would be amazed at the strength and speed welded into Techno’s attacks, but Phil saw through it.

As the impossible fact shown before him, Phil felt a coldness settle deep into his bones.

And the coldness multiplied tenfold when Technoblade hesitated.

Phil had nearly flinched at Tubbo’s cries, fully prepared to watch the young kid lose another life by Techno’s hand, but Techno had stopped. It was only a moment- a mere second, but that one instance had a grip on Phil. He stood motionless, a lifetime flashing before his eyes. Technoblade never hesitates. There was only one time where he had, but that was before he became ‘The Blade’. In the beginning, when he was merely a boy starting training. So why? Why now did he hesitate?

The question turned in Phil’s mind, his crows screaming around him as the fight went on. He was trapped in his own mind at that point, oblivious to the conflict in front of him. He heard his crows talking about the cabin and explosives, but his eyes showed he was somewhere else entirely. Mentally reviewing every fight he had seen, and the recent behavior of his friend.

Only when it was clear New L’manberg was retreating did Phil snap back into focus. With a speed to his step, he turned and raced back. After all, he was nothing but a man on house arrest.

Phil isn’t even halfway to New L’manberg when his communicator began buzzing. Fumbling his way to it, he let out a breath when he saw it was none other than Ghostbur. He answers with a slight reluctance, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes.

Phil swats his crows away and puts the communicator to his ear.

“Phil! Hi! How have ya been?” A voice echoes, the brief thought of how there could be an echo even over a communicator is pushed away.

“I’m fine, Ghostbur, What’s up?” Phil continues his walk, looking around to make sure no one can hear him.

“Oh, you know, the usual! What’s it like under house arrest?” The question is of no surprise to Phil.

“Uhm, not good Ghostbur.” He responds, ducking behind a nearby tree as he gets closer to the shore. He really shouldn’t be talking on the phone with the entire New L’manberg government so close by.

“That’s sad. Is Friend with you?” The ghost asks.

Phil let out a sigh, “Yup, Friend is here.” He lies.

“Can I speak to friend?” Ghostbur chirps excitedly.

“uh-“ Phil begins, prepared to come up with a reason why friend can’t come to the phone. Luckily, he is saved by the sounds of a scuffle on the other end of the phone. Shortly after, a new voice came through.

“Hallooo.” Greets the voice of none other than Technoblade.

“Oh! Hi Techno, what’s up?” Phil asks, dodging a low hanging branch. He can see the shoreline now.

“Phil, I’m going to be 100% honest with you right now.” Techno says.

“Okay?”

“I’m losing my mind here.”

Phil stops in his tracks, shoreline forgotten.

“What?”

“Phil, I need you to come to my cabin. Right now.” Techno states, the light, airy tone in his voice becoming more strained.

Phil can see the New L’manberg government beginning to sail back in the distance, “Techno I can’t, I am under house arrest-“

“I know you were watching me from the forest- The voices tell me these things Phil.” He states.

Phil is pensive for a moment. After all, he does have a point. After a moment of weighing his choices, he decides. “Okay, I’ll come. What’s the issue?”

Phil waits for Techno to answer him, his crows growing more and more restless.

“…It’s Tommy.” Came Techno’s voice. If the situation wasn’t strange before, it definitely was now. Techno never called Phil about Tommy. In fact, they rarely talked about Tommy at all. Techno calling about Tommy was all the convincing Phil needed, L’manberg be damned.

So, with an urgency weighing down his steps, Phil turned and made his way back into the snowy tundra. His crows soared above him, like a moth to light they lead him home. And though he hadn’t realized at the time, Phil could faintly feel the divine hand of his love sending him forwards with her blessing.

Phil arrives at Techno’s cabin. Not much has changed in the time he was gone, but that was to be expected. A moment passes, Phil standing within the trees, his crows surrounding him, and Phil breathes. He feels the light drops of snow melting against him, the brief touch of cold as it gives way to warmth. The crows are silent, letting him bathe in his moment of peace. As he stands there, he could swear he heard Kristin’s voice bless him, carried forth by the wind which caresses his cheek before fading away. Phil smiles to himself and braces the atmosphere in front of him.

There’s a gravity to the scene before him, and he can tell. The air is heavier with stress and conflict, earlier events still staining the snow. The crows stay behind, perched up high as they watch Phil carve his way forward. Images of a man who once conquered flash in their memories.

He gets to the door of the cabin, takes one more breath and braces himself for what he may find. Phil knocks three times before slowly opening the door, the sound lost in the chaos within the small cabin.

As Phil steps into the warm cabin, he is greeted by the sight of Techno cleaning up broken glass. Behind him, the remnants of a picture frame lay discarded. It was amusing to Phil, and then he saw Tommy.

But something was… different about him.

Tommy sits on the floor watching Techno, an embarrassed flush to his face. Phil studied him for a moment. Despite the weird mannerisms, Tommy visually looked different too. His hair seemed… darker almost. No longer was his hair patches of platinum blonde, but it seemed almost similar to the yellow he had as a kid. Exile must have had him in the sun a lot, too, since his skin wasn’t nearly as pale as it was after Pogtopia.

Phil clears his throat, catching the attention of Technoblade who remains silent. Phil briefly wonders where Ghostbur had gone off to, but his attention reverts to Tommy. Tommy, who is staring piercingly into Phil- wait, no. Tommy wasn’t looking at Phil. It was almost as if he was staring through Phil, like Phil was some sort of ghost.

“Tommy, you alright there?” Phil asks, eyes flickering between Tommy and Techno. Techno’s face remained impassive to Tommy’s display, which concerned Phil even more. Something must really be wrong. Phil was about to ask Techno a question when he heard Tommy mumbling.

“What was that bud?” Phil asked in a soft voice, kneeling in front of Tommy. Tommy continued to stare through Phil, eyes unblinking. Suddenly, he looked down and remained silent. Phil looked to Techno, who shook his head before signaling him into the other room. Phil let out a sigh as he stood back up and followed.

He thought back to what Tommy had mumbled, but the words didn’t quite make sense to him. All Phil could make out was something about a ‘pale horse’. Perhaps Tommy was experiencing some sort of Disassociation? He didn’t know. While he could be showing signs of a trauma response, psychology is not Phil’s specialty. Phil is more acquainted with myth and magic. Something about the pale horse seemed familiar though… Phil would have to look it up in his archives.

Phil returns to the present once he and Techno are away from Tommy. Techno stares at Phil with humor in his eyes, “Got a diagnosis yet?” he jokes.

Phil shakes his head softly and smiles, “C’mon Techno, that’s Puffy’s specialty, not mine.”

Techno shrugs, “I don’t know, you seemed lost in thought for a moment. You must have some sort of theory in that old head.”

Phil scoffs, “I’m not even that old!”

They both laugh for a moment, enjoying the lightheartedness before growing more serious. Phil straightens as he looks back to Techno.

“I think we should get Puffy involved,” he begins, “Tommy’s behavior seems to be some sort of trauma response.” Techno looks intrigued by that tidbit of information.

“Really? Do you think it was from exile? Or even before that?” Techno asks. He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I mean, he’s been through wars and was fine, what could have changed?”

Phil looks pensive. “I don’t doubt it. Wil went insane after Pogtopia. And Tommy had been with him when it happened. Maybe the effects of it are just now starting to show?”

Techno shakes his head as he paces the room, “Something just doesn’t fit in this whole situation.” He says, arms crossing as he thinks.

“What do you mean?” Phil responds, eyebrow raised. If there’s something else wrong with Tommy, it could be more serious than he originally believed. Especially if it’s enough to get Techno bothered.

“I mean, things aren’t adding up about him.” Techno began, fully prepared to go on about everything he’s noticed. Phil half expected Techno to reveal some secret board with red strings connecting different instances when there was a loud yell.

The duo quickly looked at the door, back to each other, and then briskly made their way back to the living room. When they arrived, they saw Ghostbur standing across from Tommy, a look of horror painted on his ghostly face.

“TOMMY! PUT IT DOWN!” Ghostbur screams, pointing at Tommy who was holding- is that rotten flesh? Phil stands in the doorway, stuck in a stupor as he witnesses the scene before him. Tommy doesn’t hesitate, apparently having recovered from earlier, to sink his teeth into the flesh. Ghostbur screams in disgust and Phil nearly gags.

“WHY ARE YOU EATING IT?” Ghostbur yells, absolutely horrified.

“BECAUSE IT’S A DELECTABLE TREAT!” Tommy retaliates, the first Phil has heard Tommy speak other than the mumbling.

“ITS LITERALLY ROTTEN!”

“SO?”

“SO- WHAT DO YOU MEAN- PHIIIIIIL!” Ghostbur screeches whipping his head around in search for the man. Tommy sits looking smug. Phil has no words.

“You just don’t understand the value of rotten flesh.” Tommy declares, taking another bite out of the substance. Ghostbur looks as if he is about to faint.

Techno looks across the room to Phil, seemingly convinced there is something psychologically wrong like Phil had suggested, “I’ll try to contact Puffy.” Phil can only nod in agreement.

After realizing that no one had Puffy’s communicator ID, Phil decides it was best for him to go back to New L’manberg. So far, no one has spammed his communicator demanding to know where he had gone, so he was in the clear as far as house arrest goes.

At least, it was before he ran face first into a member of the cabinet.

“Phil?” comes a timid voice. Shit.

“Hello there, Ranboo.”

Phil takes in Ranboo’s appearance, seemingly cleaned up since the fight earlier that day. Ranboo twists his hands repeatedly, a nervous tic of sorts. The crows watch from the trees, curious about the newest member of the cabinet. The crows like Ranboo, but Phil is still suspicious. After all, it was mere hours ago that the butcher army was trying to murder Techno, and suddenly Ranboo is back? Does this mean the others were nearby?

“Aren’t you on house arrest?” Ranboo asks, interrupting Phil’s train of thought. His eyes seemingly widening with- was that fear? Phil is undeterred.

“What are you here for Ranboo? Back for round two?” Phil asks in a nonchalant tone, eyes betraying his true feelings of distaste for the person in front of him. Ranboo’s shoulders stiffen, and he flails his arms around nervously.

“No! No, no I- you see I just wanted- I’m here to, to uh,” He takes a breath to calm himself, “I wanted to return techno’s tools…” he finishes quietly, eyes downcast. Phil is reminded of how the teen avoids eye contact.

Phil was about to dismiss the teen, obviously distrusting the L’manbergian, before he stopped. His mind wandered back to the events earlier that day, and he felt his anger melt away. It was Ranboo who interrupted Quackity, wasn’t it? The crows share their agreement. He thinks back to the look on Ranboo’s face during the altercation, the fear and discomfort, how Ranboo never took the offensive during the fight. At the time, Phil had believed the teen to simply be untrained, but now he sees how caring Ranboo is in the way he carries himself. A dawning realization overcomes Phil as he sees how similar Ranboo is to himself. Ranboo cared for his friends more than their goal.

Phil looks at Ranboo again. The crouched posture, the nervous fiddling with his hands, and the flittering of his eyes as he tries to avoid eye contact. Ranboo was young, possibly Tubbo’s age. He felt himself start to smile as he decided to give Ranboo a chance.

“Alright. I’ll accompany you to the door then. Wouldn’t want you getting decapitated or anything.” Phil half joked, enjoying the way Ranboo’s jaw dropped, and the color followed.

The crows seemed displeased with Phil. What? He said he was warming up to the kid, not that they were best friends. They walk together to Techno’s door, and wow Phil just can’t seem to leave, can he?  He knocks once and waits.

The door opens, “Back so soon-“ Techno begins, stopping abruptly once he sees Ranboo. The trio stands at the door awkwardly. No one speaks for a moment, eyes just flickering between each other. Phil is amused.

“Ranboo has something for you,” Phil says with a smile plastered to his face. Techno looks to Phil with an eyebrow raised.

“Is it a knife?”

“No?” Ranboo answers, looking at Phil in confusion.

“A shame, then.” Techno shifts to block the doorway, not allowing Ranboo to see inside the cabin. “So, What is it?”

Ranboo shuffles through his inventory before pulling out a trident and gently handing it over, “It’s your trident. I thought I’d just, y’know.” He says, stepping back and looking down. Techno studies it for a moment before looking curiously at Ranboo.

Ranboo tries to fill the silence, “It’s all I could get..”

“Why?”

Ranboo stutters, “Well- the rest are in the Whitehouse with Tubbo and- oh I probably shouldn’t have said that-“

“No no, not that. Why are you giving me this?” Technoblade asks. Ranboo stares at the spot next to Techno’s head.

“I just..” Ranboo sighs. “Look, I disagree with what happened earlier…”

“Disagree?”

“I meant like, don’t approve of.”

“You’re not the only one.” Phil adds. Techno lets out a soft chuckle at that and Ranboo starts to smile.

“This doesn’t mean I trust you though,” Techno says. “It just means that you’re not so bad after all.”

“I think I’m alright with that.”

Just as Phil was about to suggest they start their journey back to L’manberg, the trio are distracted by shuffling within the cabin. Within seconds, a blonde demon of a child pokes his head out the window and loudly proclaims, “Who the fuck is that?”

Techno stands there with wide eyes as he turns to Phil. His expression screams ‘help me’ and Phil can no longer contain his wheezes. Both of them had forgotten about the teen standing with them until Ranboo asks, “Is.. Is that Tommy?”

Chapter Text

Tommy felt if he was floating, the cold encompassing him like an artic breeze. He guesses it’s fitting, considering where he currently resides.

He opens his eyes to a field of darkness. It’s strange, he thinks to himself. The floor, if he can even call it that, moves as if it’s water, despite being reflective. Tommy looks forward, but the vastness of the void stretches on for miles. It’s never-ending.

“Hello?” He calls out.

Nothing. Nothing, other than the echo of his own voice, returning to him as a dog returns a thrown ball. He shakes his head and walks forth. Tommy doesn’t know why he moves, just the compulsion to escape the void which surrounds him. The floor ripples around him, starting small and expanding outwards. It reminds him of a virus.

His heart beats viciously in his chest, the pounding in his ears keeping him grounded, distracting him from the constant echoing of his steps. He walks continuously for what feels like miles until he stumbles upon a gray fog in the distance. The area feels… different.

Tommy failed to notice how clear his head was, the whispers which plagued him constantly were strangely absent.

Tommy pushes forward into the fog.

Tommy stands in a building. The fog had cleared long ago, but he doesn’t recall ever entering the building. It is very spacious, but that’s not what Tommy focuses on. Everything is gray, and there is little to no light.

But laid out before him are what seems to be statues, or moments frozen in time. There seem to be at least a hundred of them on the floor alone.

“What the fuck?” Tommy asks no one in particular. He steps forward and hesitates when a light shines on one of the statues. Well, he guesses it’s not really a statue.

The moment stutters to life, as if someone hit play on an old VHS tape. Tommy sees a young boy with blonde hair chasing after a group of pigeons. A smile shines on the boy’s face, and it takes a moment for Tommy to realize the boy is a younger version of himself.

“I don’t remember this.” Tommy mumbles, studying the memory intently. A giggle echoes out from the boy as he moves in slow motion, the birds taking flight as he nears. A silhouette sits in the background, features hidden from view.

Tommy moves on, walking slowly at first as the memories come to life. He hears snippets of conversations he can’t recall. There’s a clawing at his chest, but he needs to continue- he doesn’t know why.

As he moves forwards, the boy starts appearing older. Instead of a young child, Tommy seems to be about eight or ten years old. The memories are still fuzzy. He watches his own life through an outsider’s eyes. He seemed so happy…

There’s a silhouette in almost every memory, sometimes two or three. None of the features are present, however. Tommy feels like he should know these shadows, but his mind is empty. He hears his younger self calling out to someone.

He is ten years old sitting in the middle of a clearing. A stream bubbled by and his ⊑⟟⌇ ⏚⍀⍜⏁⊑⟒⍀ watched from nearby. Tommy yelled out in frustration as another frog escaped his grasp.

Tommy continues moving. He passes another memory, this time of a young teen with brown hair practicing guitar. His face is blurred, but he hears him humming a familiar tune. The teen begins singing under his breath, “I keep making peace with the past, then the present won’t let me…” Tommy moves on from the memory.

Now he’s twelve, standing in a doorway as a faceless figure pats him on the shoulder before ruffling his hair. There’s a guitar strapped to his back. Tommy sees the figure turn around, grip his guitar strap tighter and walk into the light, leaving Tommy behind.

As he continues throughout the building, the memories grow louder. He approaches a door and struggles to open it, having to use his weight to force it. The lights go out, and the sound of the door slamming echoes throughout the building.

As Tommy’s eyes adjust to the darkness, he hears a familiar tune. A haunting melody floats through the darkness, and Tommy is consumed by what feels like grief. A light comes to life in the distance, and he stumbles towards it, tears springing in his eyes. As he draws closer, the haunting melody grows crisp. He can barely make out the words.

I stand between two worlds…

The voice is singing. It is angelic and full of sorrow. Tommy feels his breath escape him but pushes forward. Suddenly, the song the young teen was singing resurfaces in his mind.

There is no middle ground for me…

A woman is sitting in a clearing up ahead, brushing the golden locks of a young boy. His eyes flutter closed as the veiled figure sings. Her words send electricity into the air, exploding in bursts of stars and light. Tears are pouring down Tommy’s face. He can feel the phantom touch of a woman’s hand in his hair as he grows near.

The tears that fall have wanted it all…

Tommy’s legs are shaking, the only thing pushing him forward is the incessant need to see the woman’s face. His chest aches as if something is missing- a part of himself that has been locked away for too long.

There is no return for me…

Tommy is near enough to see the woman clearly. Her back is turned to him, but her veil shimmers in the darkness somehow. It’s as if she is made up of the universe itself. Her hair flows down in waves, dark and endless. Her hand glides through the young version of Tommy’s hair.

One look is all it took…

Her hand stills.

And I fall apart.

The song pauses, and the young boy complains. Tommy pays it no mind, as he stares intently at the woman. She turns her head, and Tommy feels like he can’t breathe. She is beautiful, and something inside Tommy breaks at the sight.

A smile grows on her face, soft and full of kindness. “Hello, Tommy. I’ve missed you.” Kristin says, her voice resounding from every direction and yet from nowhere at all. Tommy stumbles forward and reaches out his hand.

The smile falls from her face, her eyes taking on a shade of sadness.

And Tommy is falling once more.

A ghost hums to himself inside the warmth of Technoblade’s cabin. He peeks over at Tommy, who seems dead asleep. He fights a worried frown, before continuing to hum a song. How he learned the song, he can’t remember. All he knows is he once loved to sing it.

“Thought the memories were buried so deep…” the ghost starts, the words fighting their way into his fuzzy memory. As he wanders around the cabin mindlessly, he sings more confidently. “Envy takes over, that should be me”. His fingers twitch as if he’s searching for a guitar. He fails to register the shuffling sound of blankets moving behind him.

“All I took is one look and I-“He starts before turning around. He stops mid-lyric at the sight of Tommy sitting up, staring at him. Tommy's voice comes out as a whisper, like he is unsure if his voice will work or not, “…and I fall apart.”

There’s silence, and something foreign turns in Wilbur’s- no, Ghostbur’s gut. Neither party speaks. Tommy stands up from the couch, shakily making his way towards the ghost. They stand facing each other, curiosity and fear mixing in their eyes. It’s difficult to describe how they are feeling. The boy in front of Ghostbur looks like Tommy, but it doesn’t feel like his Tommy. But despite that, it’s still Tommy.

“Toms?” Ghostbur asks, softly. Tommy is quiet, but he steps closer and falls into Ghostbur’s arms. He clings to him, despite how cold it must be. Ghostbur can barely make out the words Tommy is mumbling, but he manages to hear one sentence repeated, “Why did you have to go?”

For the first time since November 16^th, Ghostbur feels a fire settle deep into his bones. He makes a choice in that moment, with Tommy clinging to him despite the coldness that bites at him.

A choice that will change the course of history, a choice that will rewrite what’s been engraved within stone. He slinks out of the cabin later that night once Tommy is asleep and the snow has let up. He fights the waves of fog threatening to make him forget what he has learned. He has a mission, he has a goal.

And as he nears the now abandoned cave, haunted by the echoes of a mad man, he sees a man resting against the entrance. His mask gleams in the moonlight, his posture relaxed, but no doubt on guard.

Dream pushes off the wall upon seeing Ghostbur, movements silent. As the two men meet in the same spot where a madman once preached about becoming Dream’s vassal. The air grows tense.

“Hello, Ghostbur.” Dream asks, voice crisp and eerie. His head tilts as he takes in the way Ghostbur stands, reminding him of Wilbur rather than the friendly ghost the server has grown to know.

“Dream,” The ghost begins, voice echoing throughout the clearing. It was now or never.

“I want you to bring me back to life.”

Chapter Text

Tommy hasn’t seen Ghostbur since his trip down memory warehouse. If he’s being honest, he shouldn’t be that surprised. He’s used to people dying or leaving him in one way or another. Being in a different universe or whatever obviously wouldn’t change that. Tommy’s not angry, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong. He’s a bad bitch, he don’t need nobody.

Yet despite being the baddest of bitches, people kept coming around to watch over him. Frankly, it was becoming an annoyance. How do people expect him to overthrow the world if he’s being babysat 24/7? So, when Tommy was finally deemed responsible enough to be left alone, he nearly jumped for joy. This was his chance to start his evil plans! First step, explore the pretty snow. What? A good evil mastermind needs to be aware of his surroundings.

Tommy stalks around the cabin in search of a jacket. He learned his lesson last time with how cold the tundra can get. After rummaging around some chests and various rooms, Tommy found some sort of winter, poncho thing. It was a light blue, with a fluffy collar. It looked as if it was old. Not to mention it wasn’t nearly as long as some of Techno’s other cloaks. Despite the color, Tommy deems it acceptable for his evil plan.

Feeling as if he was a god amongst men, Tommy marches outside and takes in the scenery. The snow has settled, leaving a crisp, white sheet covering the cabin. He walks around, taking note of the empty stables and the new construction that’s been paused due to the snow. He wonders what Techno is building. It almost looks like an extension of some sort. It could be for the animals, but deep-down Tommy hopes it’s for him. He pushes those feelings away.

He walks around mindlessly for a moment, surveilling the perimeter of the cabin and the white noise of nature. He finds his way into a clearing not too far away when movement startles him. Tommy eyes the clearing suspiciously, hearing no movement. He fails to see how the snow begins to take on a red tinge.

Did you have fun? A voice asks, surprising Tommy. He looks around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. He hears quiet laughter and feels himself growing annoyed.

“Stop hiding pussy, where are you?” Tommy calls out to the empty clearing.

No need to shout, just talk to me in here. The voice whispers, leaving Tommy confused. What did it mean by ‘here’? In your mind, child.

It all clicks together suddenly. The voice is the virus, but when had it become so clear and distinct? Usually, it communicated through urges and intrusive thoughts. There’s movement again, but the clearing is still deathly quiet.

Where are you?

I’m with you, of course. Tommy could imagine the virus grinning at him. The virus is taunting him, he decides. Suddenly, a red cloud of smoke wisps by him, collecting in a whirlwind of smoke before materializing into a figure. It has no features, rather a collection of moving smoke circling around like a tornado. Two red eyes beam at him.

“This isn’t real…” Tommy says under his breath.

No, unfortunately. The virus says, its voice garbled and eerie. I’m trapped in your mind after all, almost like how you’re trapped too.

“What do you mean? I’m not trapped anywhere.” Tommy says, mesmerized by this moving cyclone in front of him. He watches as it steps behind a tree and seemingly disappears. Tommy looks around for a moment, stumbling back as it suddenly appears right in front of him. It leans towards him creepily, its eyes blinding him like a pair of twin suns. Tommy feels himself fall onto the snow.

You’re not trapped? The virus disperses, red smoke slithering around and forming in various spots. You’re not stuck playing house with a bunch of strangers? The virus’s face split in two, a horrid attempt at forming a mouth. It was smiling at him.

Tommy covered his ears, but there’s no way to stop hearing something within his mind. Might as well kill them now, you’re better off alone. Tommy shakes his head. The virus fades, and Tommy thinks its done for now. He removes his hands from his ears, but then the virus materializes behind him, its gaping maw right next to his hear. He hears the roar of wind along with instruction; We’ve got company.

And suddenly, the clearing is normal again. The amalgamation is gone, and the snow is back to its brilliant white. A branch snaps from somewhere behind him, and Tommy is quick to his feet. He scans the clearing, and watches as a masked man emerges from the tree line. Tommy’s eyes dart to the smile etched into the mask and finds it strange. Tommy puffs up his chest for intimidation, and it must work considering the masked man hesitates.

The man in the mask regards Tommy with a coldness that shouldn’t be possible considering he’s literally wearing a smiley face. The stranger’s head tilts to the side as he stares.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he asks, voice not quite what Tommy was expecting. It sounded human, at least. Tommy ignored the warning bells ringing in his mind and straightens.

“Nope. And I don’t care. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” Tommy expects some sort of reaction, whether it be a scoff or a laugh, but silence reigns between the two. It’s heavy, and Tommy resists the urge to shift his feet.

The man steps forward, walking towards Tommy and stopping a few feet away. Tommy never breaks eye contact, a fire burns in his stance that Dream had worked so hard to extinguish, but this wasn’t the same Tommy. His code was different; It was a second chance.

“Strangers?” Dream asks, shoulders lowering as if he was hurt. Tommy wasn’t expecting such a reaction but stands strong regardless. Dream continues, “Tommy,” Tommy’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment, “we’re friends.” Checkmate.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but a distant voice calls his name, distracting the pair for a moment. By the time Tommy turns back to the mysterious man, he has vanished. Tommy stands alone in the clearing. He shakes his head and turns to walk back to the cabin.

As he approaches, he sees Technoblade tying Carl up at the stables. He regards him with a nod, his eyes scanning the cloak, winter-poncho thing Tommy’s wearing. He doesn’t say anything about it. As Tommy moves towards the stairs, Techno speaks up.

“So, uh, what were you up to out there? Find anything interesting?” He asks a bit awkwardly. Tommy takes a moment, eyes flickering back to the clearing.

“Nope. Just a lot of snow.” He says, and he walks inside despite Techno’s eyes staring into his back.

Ghostbur still hasn’t returned. Tommy ignores the way his chest constricts at the notion. It’s bad enough the virus, which he decidedly has named Fred, won’t stop badgering him. Unfortunately, with Ghostbur gone, Technoblade has decided to stick around as Tommy’s babysitter.

Tommy is very bored. Especially with how silent the cabin is. Techno is a very quiet creature, Tommy decided. He likes farming, tending to his animals, and reading. Tommy doesn’t know why he thought Techno would be loud, but the quiet does make Tommy go insane.

Today was a reading day apparently. For the past two hours, Techno sat in front of the fireplace with some book. Tommy felt if he stayed inside any longer he would set the cabin ablaze. So he does what any bored person would do; he snoops.

Tommy, keeping an eye on the still-reading Technoblade, creeps his way to the storage wall and begins to rummage. He pushes through emeralds, apples which sting his hands for some weird reason, until he finally finds something interesting. He leans over the chest and pulls out an old, beat-up sword. It’s not too heavy, but dull. A smile grows on Tommy’s face as he runs over to Techno.

“TECHNO!” Tommy yells, causing Techno to let out a long sigh before closing his book and looking up.

“Where did you even get that-“

“I plead the fifth, can I keep it though?”

“You’re not going to be able to do much with that, it’s only a training sword.”

“So that’s a yes?” Tommy looks at Techno with excitement, nearly vibrating. Techno just wants to read his book.

“Does it mean you’ll stop annoying me?”

“Maybe.”

“Then fine.”

Tommy wastes no time in running to his room, which may or may not still be under construction. He quickly snatches the jacket cloak he stole and races outside to try out his new sword. Back in his world, Swords were cool but hard to come by. No one really knew how to make a good sword, so guns and crossbows were the choice of many.

He doesn’t even realize he’s heading towards the same clearing until he arrives. Tommy tests the weight of the sword in his hand before settling into a fighting stance. He moves forward and slashes at the tree, the force of the swing startles him as he feels it pass through the sword and into his arms. His legs are stiff as he attempts to use the dull blade.

Tommy thinks back to the fight between the apron-clad group Techno fought against. He remembers how graceful Technoblade was with a sword, how he made fighting look like a well-practiced dance. He was quick, yet slow. His movements ebbed and flowed like a stream hidden in the woods.

With how Tommy was currently performing, the idea of moving like Technoblade was impossible. Techno had strength behind each blow, and a grace which supported it. Tommy had no such strength. He was light and quick, but his blows lacked force that he could withstand.

“You’re doing it wrong.” A voice speaks up behind him. Tommy startles, dropping the sword in embarrassment. Tommy turns around to see the masked man from before. He seems amused somehow.

“It’s rude to sneak up on people you know.” Tommy says, watching the masked man. There’s silence, as if the clearing they stand in is nothing but a chess board, and Dream is plotting his next move. Tommy stares at him with a fire in his eyes that Dream had worked to smother out. Of course, this wasn’t the same Tommy after all.

Dream snorts, “You really don’t remember?”

“Are you mocking me bitch? I’ll have you know I’m the biggest man there ever was, I’ll fuck you up.” Tommy declares. Dream shifts subtly.

“Not with those sword skills.”

“Try me-“ Tommy begins, only to suddenly be laying on the ground, his legs having been swept out from under him. Dream stood off to the side, arms crossed in smug victory.

“That’s not fair I wasn’t ready.” Tommy grumbles, still catching his breath.

“No one said fighting was fair.” The masked man had a point. Suddenly, a hand was in front of him. Tommy stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was supposed to grab it. He reaches out and takes it, and the stranger lifts him up to his feet.

“Dream.” The man says. Tommy raises a brow. Was he telling him to go to sleep? What?

“My name. It’s Dream.” The man- no, Dream says. Tommy blankly stares at Dream.

“We used to train together.” He says, which sparks interest in Tommy.

“We did?” He asks, trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice. Dream stared at him some more. Tommy was beginning to get annoyed with all the staring. He was two seconds away from clapping to break whatever staring contest the two were in.

“Meet me here same time tomorrow.” Dream said, turning and disappearing into the trees. What a weird guy.

“Would you train me to fight ever?” Tommy asks one day, looking at Technoblade expectantly. The question was out of the blue, but Tommy was curious. Techno looked at Tommy for a moment, and then shook his head.

“No. You already know how to fight. Training you would be giving away my secrets.” He joked, looking back at his book. Technoblade was expecting some sort of indignation from Tommy, but all he heard was silence. He looked up, but all he saw was Tommy’s form retreating down the hallway.

Technoblade did not inquire about the new sword that Tommy carries. A slender blade with inscriptions of magic along its length. He was oblivious to the little smile that decorated the handle.

Over time, Tommy found himself communicating with Techno less and less. Ghostbur remained unseen, and neither Ranboo nor Phil had heard anything else about him. Apparently, they were also searching for someone by the name of Captain Puffy, who was en route to New L'manberg at the moment.

Tommy disappeared nearly every day. When he wasn't secluded in his renovated room, he would sneak away to battle with Dream. His new sword was of great aid. It was a thinner blade, which made Tommy's blows more rapid. Dream informed him that because he was so agile, a samurai fighting technique would be more suitable for him. Tommy had to agree.

Tommy was currently savoring his hidden stockpile of flesh and spider-eyes in his room. Fred, the virus, has become increasingly tough to combat recently. It was restless, but this world was unique. Before Tommy could get started on his plans, he needed to first improve his skills and build up his strength. Thankfully, feasting on flesh helped calm Fred and convinced him to leave Tommy alone.

Tommy contemplated testing his powers today, if he still possessed any in this reality. If that were the case, he'd have to offer an explanation for it, too. At least he was still able to interact with some zombies. The hall that Techno constructed was filled with zombie villagers. Tommy was initially perplexed as to why Techno had them detained. But when the villagers attempted to offer Tommy items, he became delighted.

However, something terrible had occurred. Tommy was not welcomed with the groans of the undead upon leaving his room. No, he was greeted with panic and murmurings. Tommy noticed, upon looking up, that all the zombie villagers were suddenly human.

What the fuck?!

Tommy was overcome by the infection as it wailed in his skull. After making a U-turn, he sprinted upstairs, where he discovered Techno arranging his storage containers. As he spoke, a red tint clouded his vision.

“What did you do?” Tommy spoke lowly, glaring at Technoblade.

“Heh?”

“What did you do to the villagers?”

Techno stared at Tommy, not recognizing the kid in front of him.

“Turn them back.” Tommy demanded, voice pitching with anxiety. Techno was very confused.

“What? Why would I do that?”

Tommy tried to find a reason that wasn’t ‘I miss having friends to talk to.’ But he came up blank. He began to feel panic clawing up his chest. Fred was still screaming and everything was becoming too much for him.

“Tommy?” Techno asked, wariness in his body language.

“How did you do it? How did you cure them?”  Tommy asked in a small voice. He didn’t notice his hands shaking. Tommy watched as techno opened a chest and pulled out a potion and a shiny apple.

“I can show you,” Techno said. Techno lead Tommy back downstairs, and revealed a zombie villager dressed in green. It had been hidden behind some stone, and Tommy didn’t understand why.

“Do you trust me?” Techno asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“No.” Tommy responds without hesitation. He tries to ignore the slight disappointment in Techno’s eyes.

“Smart.” Techno says, before taking out the potion. Tommy watches with wide eyes. The zombie looks to Tommy with fear, eyes screaming out to him. Something in Tommy’s chest urged him to stop Techno, but Tommy needed to see how it was done.

“Stand back.” Techno warns before throwing the potion at the zombie. Grey particles circle around it. The zombie grows weak, eyes drooping. Techno then reaches forward and shoves the shiny apple in the zombie’s mouth. The zombie, on instinct, bites down and a loud crack resonates throughout the hall.

Tommy feels sick as he watches the particles turn to an angry red, swirling around violently as the zombie begins convulsing. He didn’t notice Techno watching him intently.

“How- How long does it take?” Tommy asks.

“About 12 hours maybe.” Techno responded casually.

Tommy couldn’t handle anymore. Feeling like he was going to throw up, he bolts upstairs and out of the cabin. Techno follows him, finding tommy bent over the railings throwing up. He awkwardly puts his hand on Tommy’s back, rubbing circles in what was meant to be calming. Tommy cries silent tears. For himself or the zombie, he didn’t know.

It was late. Tommy had gotten up to go see the villager when he heard quiet conversation upstairs. Tommy creeps upstairs to try and listen. It turns out Techno was talking to someone on his communicator.

“I don’t know Phil he… yeah, it was…” Tommy struggled to hear everything Techno was saying. Eventually, he decides to just go back to his room, zombie villager forgotten.

That morning, he woke up to a bundle of cloth at his door. It had a fur lining around the shoulders and was a shorter length. It was a new coat-cloak, Tommy’s fancy word for winter poncho. Something warm grew in his chest at the thought of Techno making this for him. He must have felt bad about the night before.

And if Tommy wore that silly poncho cloak cape every day, nobody needed to know.

Chapter Text

Ranboo and Phil’s visits started happening more often. At first, Ranboo was confused as to why Tommy was at Technoblade’s cabin, but he learned not to question anything involving the blonde. If anything, the more time the pair spent together the more chaotic Tommy became. It was interesting to say the least.

As for Phil, him and Ranboo formed a sort of “covering for a sibling sneaking out during a sitcom” alliance, Tubbo and the rest of the L’manberg cabinet being the parents. While somewhat amusing, Ranboo can’t deny the guilt he feels lying to his friends. Tubbo seemed to be catching on to Ranboo’s antics as well, which isn’t good. Guilt eats at Ranboo as he imagines what it would be like to think your best friend was dead, just to discover your cabinet member was sneaking out to hang out with him.

Ranboo pushed those thoughts aside usually, opting to think about Tommy and his apparent memory loss. Tommy seemed unable to remember the past but could form and remember new memories. It was different than Ranboo’s memory loss, as he struggled with all types of memories. Phil suggests it is due to trauma related to exile.

Speaking of Phil, the two never really got a chance to talk much. When Phil snuck out to see Techno, Ranboo usually stayed behind to cover for him. The two never left together. Today, though, was different. Captain Puffy had finally arrived from her voyage, and Ranboo and Phil planned to seek her out.  

It was a bit difficult to convince Tubbo to let Phil leave his house, but after some excuse about Phil needing to walk around due to his avian traits, he was granted permission. Ranboo couldn’t get the image of Tubbo’s suspicious, yet exhausted, expression out of his head.

The duo walks outside L’manberg in search of Captain Puffy. They briefly considered asking Nikki which dock Puffy may have landed at, but after Ranboo and Tommy tried to frame her, she wasn’t too fond of them. Plus, she was government. Ranboo ignores the fact that he too is part of the government.

As they walk through the Essempii, Ranboo struggles to fight the guilt rising in himself. He tries to focus on their surroundings as they walk in silence.

Okay he can’t do this anymore.

With a courage he didn’t know he had, Ranboo abruptly asks Phil a question that makes him nearly trip.

“What if we told Tubbo Tommy was alive?”

Phil looks to Ranboo as if he had killed his son.

“Say that again, mate?”

Ranboo fidgets, “I was thinking we could tell Tubbo that Tommy is alive?” Phil is still staring at him slack-jawed.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m serious! Tubbo has been so devastated about Tommy’s death, and it doesn’t feel right keeping this from him! He doesn’t need to meet him, just know that it’s not his fault-“ Ranboo rambles, interrupted by Phil.

“Except that it is his fault. He’s the one who called for Tommy’s exile. Whatever made Tommy forget everything is because of that decision.” Phil says, shaking his head. Ranboo bristles at the slight. He takes a breath.

“I agree that Tubbo exiling Tommy was wrong, and definitely a mistake, but how can you blame this all on him? There are other people involved.”

“What, like dream?”

“Yes?”

“Dream may have done something to Tommy in exile, but Tubbo is supposed to be his best friend. Why did Tubbo never visit? Why feel guilt now that Tommy is supposedly dead?” Phil asks, continuing their walk as Ranboo stares at the older man incredulously.

“Are you hearing yourself right now? Greif changes people Phil. You can’t say Tubbo’s to blame for never visiting when you never visited yourself.”

“I was on house arrest; I couldn’t have visited even if I wanted to!” Phil defends. Ranboo’s eyes squint at Phil, the cogs in his head turning.

“Yet that didn’t stop you from rushing to Techno’s house at the slightest danger, house arrest and all.” Ranboo knew he shouldn’t bring Techno into their argument, but the words had already left his mouth. This was bothering him for a while now, how Phil only seemed to care when Techno was involved.

“I actually knew where Techno was- I had no idea where Tommy got exiled to.”

“Techno knew, and so did Ghostbur. You just didn’t want to visit him, to help him.” Ranboo accuses.

“Why would I? After everything that happened?” Phil asks, and Ranboo slows down, considering what he knew about L’manberg and the festival. He hadn’t joined until later, only seeing the aftermath of the sixteenth and what people told him about Wilbur.

“I just thought that since he and Wilbur were so close, that you’d be there for him. Mutual grief or something…” He mumbles, feeling less confident than before. After all, who is he to comment on a past he wasn’t there for?

“That doesn’t matter now. We’re helping him now, aren’t we?” Phil says a bit agitated. Ranboo doesn’t bring up the fact that they’re only helping because Techno asked. His mind flashes back to Tubbo’s face, and the guilt he feels lying to him. Why is Ranboo allowed to help when Tubbo was Tommy’s best friend? It doesn’t make sense to him.

“Why can’t Tubbo help then?” He asks again, continuing the conversation.

Phil sighs, “Because, Ranboo, he’s a government official- the damn president! He tracked down Techno and tried to execute him! Government can’t be trusted.” Phil’s words confuse Ranboo even more.

“I’m government.” He says, “I was there the day we tracked Techno down. Tubbo is one of my close friends and I trust him. If I’m government, and government can’t be trusted, then what does that make me?”

“You’re a traitor, Ranboo.” The words struck deep, ice curling in Ranboo’s bones. He feels his chest constricting at the accusation. Phil continues, “You’re betraying the government as we speak. You’re betraying your supposed close friend by lying to him about what you’re doing right now. You’re lying, sneaking around- that’s why we trust you Ranboo. You’re not loyal to your country, not like Tubbo is.”

“I don’t want to lie anymore; all I’m saying is Tubbo deserves to know Tommy’s alive. He’s his best-“

“Tommy can’t even remember him! He’s a whole different person almost, it’s the same as-“

“Same as what, Phil? Being dead?” Ranboo spoke, anxiety churns his words out like a poison. His mouth running before his mind can catch up, “Like your son?”

The air grows tense, a deadly aura hung between the two.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare mention my son to me.”

Ranboo had forgotten Phil’s reputation as the Angel of Death. He never understood how he could have that title, as he carries himself with such calmness and ease. Now, however, with Phil’s eyes pinning him where he stood, Ranboo thinks he can understand. The coldness in Phil’s eyes is one he has never seen before. The man standing before him radiates power, despite the ruined wing and ankle monitor.

Neither party noticed how they arrived at the docks until a voice calls out, “Am I interrupting something?” Phil shifts, the intimidating aura vanishing as he sets his sights on Puffy. She’s unloading her ship, various barrels accompanying her. Ranboo is too overwhelmed to listen in, so he walks away and sits near a tree.

He takes out his memory book and begins writing down their argument. Going over it in his mind. It doesn’t make sense to him. Tubbo deserves to be saved from his grief. It’s not fair to have to mourn someone who’s alive. What if it’s worse for Tubbo? His mind whispers to him. After all, his best friend is alive but has no memory of him. Would it really be the same as him dying? Ranboo doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he ever will.

As he finishes writing what happened in his memory book, a realization hits him. What if he makes Tommy a memory book? After all, Ranboo would be totally lost without his. Tommy could have a list of his friends, and they could teach him the history of the server! Then Tubbo could learn Tommy is alive and everything would be okay again, right?

Ranboo smiles, feeling excitement building up within him. He ignores the voice saying things were never okay to begin with.

When he and Phil meet up again, neither speak to each other. While they aren’t fighting anymore, they are both lost in thought. A plan has been set in motion, now they wait.

Fred is an annoying piece of shit Tommy decides. The virus decided it was too good for rotten flesh and spider eyes, no longer satiated by Tommy’s snacks. It was becoming an issue. It was almost constantly standing to the side now, watching and making Tommy feel on edge. Fred and Tommy have even started arguing some days, forgetting Technoblade was there until he stares at them.

He was lucky he had an outlet for his new agitation: training. It was only a matter of time before Dream picked up on it.

“Your movements are harsh and sloppy.” He critiques while parrying a harsh blow. “It almost looks like you’re trying to mimic Technoblade’s style.”

Tommy ignores him and strikes, his blade cutting through the air in an aggressive arc, but Dream sidesteps and disarms him. His blade embeds itself in a nearby tree. Tommy curses and mutters under his breath. Fred was mocking him in the corners of his mind. He hears Dream retreating and looks up to see him swinging the sword. He then stops and offers it to Tommy, the smile engraved on the hilt shines in the light. Tommy accepts the sword and puts it away.

The pair stand in silence for a moment as the breeze makes its way through their hair. It’s a pretty nice day out, Tommy notes. Eventually, Dream turns to him, mask drawn to the side of his face. He’s been doing that more and more lately. It must be a sign of trust.

“Let’s take a walk, Tommy.” Dream says, and Tommy agrees. The duo set out for the forest in silence, Tommy too lost in his own head to pay attention to the scenery around himself. He only takes notice of the familiar trees when the outline of a large tower taunts him in the distance. It was where Tommy woke up after being in the city. But why did Dream take him here?

“Why are we here?” Tommy asks, confused. He pays attention to Dream’s body language. He has slid the mask back into place, which usually signals that he is trying to hide whatever emotions are seeping out. Dream sighs and turns to Tommy.

“Sometimes words fail to express how we feel. When that happens, you find other ways to vent.” He says vaguely. Tommy furrows his brow, as Fred begins to whisper in his ear. He feels the hot anger curling in his chest and tries to push it down.

Fred began to flicker in and out of Tommy’s vision.  

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, attempting to distract himself from Fred.

Dream was watching him intently, like a specimen under a microscope. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was being dissected. He needs to get better at masking his emotions and inner turmoil if he’s to take over the world again. Dream ignores the question at first, settling on interrogation.

“You remember this place?” Dream asks, shadows obscuring the mask. Tommy nods.

“This is one of my first memories- waking up here. Everything before that is kind of fuzzy,” he lies, opting to play along with the role of an amnesiac. “Why is this place so destroyed?” Tommy asks.

“This is where we would hangout, actually,” Dream starts, gazing over the remnants of Logstedshire. “The craters are from when we used to spar.” Tommy can tell Dream is hiding something but chooses to ignore it for now.

“Have you ever done a manhunt?” Dream changes the subject. Tommy nods, which surprises Dream. “I used to do them with my friends,” Dream continues. “Once you start running, the battle between hunter and hunted begins.” Dream looks to Tommy, “Should we test how fast you truly are?” Fred watches from the trees excitedly.

“Sure, who’s the hunter?” Tommy asks while Dream shifts his body position.

“You,” he says before taking off towards the forest.

“Oi! That’s cheating you prick!” Tommy yells, breaking into a sprint after the smiling man. He hears his laughter through the trees as they get further away from the remains of exile.

The game begins.

Tommy had only felt this good during the early days of the apocalypse. The freedom of running without a care, the adrenaline of the chase, it was addicting. The virus, Fred, enhanced whatever Tommy was feeling. He felt his blood pounding in his veins as he leapt over ravines, jumped off cliffs, and raced through the tops of trees. With Dream in his sights, Tommy had only one goal: victory.

The duo maneuvered through the land as if they had been doing this their whole lives. They were in sync, neither faltering as they dodged and weaved. It was just them; Tommy and Dream. In their silly game, they left all their troubles behind them.

When Tommy was in range, the clashing swords could be heard for miles. The swiftness and speed of Tommy’s attacks were honed for this exact situation. The pair continued to climb, jump, and parry until a village could be seen in the distance. Dream let out a cheer and Tommy let a small grin slip. He was enjoying this.

Together, they scaled the walls of the houses and continued their chase along the rooftops. Fred wavered for a moment, but Tommy was too focused on Dream. He was too distracted by the thrill of victory to heed Fred’s warning. As they leapt across rooftops, Tommy was just in reach of Dream when he felt something crash against his side, his body being thrown through the air and crashing into the ground.

“FUCK!” He curses, pain blooming in his ribs. He raises his head to try and find the culprit only to be met with the empty gaze of an iron golem. Tommy fights the rising bile in his throat and tries to steady his spinning vision. When he was falling, he could of sworn he heard someone yell out, but he was not sure if it was Dream or Fred.

Tommy took notice of his sword laying on the grass near him and struggles to reach it. As he inches his way over, the ground erupts into tremors. At first, they were small, but now they roared as if the earth was about to swallow him whole. The tremors eased only for a cold hand to find purchase in Tommy’s cloak. He panicked as he was heaved into the air, thrashing about as the empty eyes of the golem stared at him.

Shit. Tommy should have paid more attention to his surroundings. He was so focused on Dream, he had forgotten how Iron Golems reacted to him. As the golem lifted him higher and higher into the air, Tommy could only brace himself for the pain he would feel. At the last moment, an arrow lodged itself into the side of the golem’s head. The golem slowly turned, creaking as it went, and stared at it’s attacker.

Tommy almost cheered at the image of Dream, enchanted crossbow loaded and ready, standing nearby. The golem released it’s hold on Tommy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Dream then began his assault on the golem, focusing on a relentless flurry of attacks and dodges. Tommy had never seen Dream fight something other than him. When Dream fought, it was with precision. If Technoblade was a winding stream, chaotic and powerful, than Dream was rain; falling down with varying intensity.

As Tommy recovered from his fall, he grasped his sword and leapt into the fight. If Dream was rain, then Tommy was wind; Underestimated, but detrimental all the same. The duo moved as a unit, fighting something other than each other for the first time. It was exhilarating. The golem didn’t stand a chance.

When Dream attacked, Tommy deflected. When Tommy distracted, Dream would strike. It was a never-ending dance of blades and metal. The final strike resulted in a loud crack, the golem crumbling and falling to the ground. Tommy took a moment to catch his breath and looked to Dream.

“Did you see that? That was so cool!” Tommy yelled, eyes ablaze and chest pounding.

Dream let out a small huff of approval, knocking shoulders with Tommy. “You did good.” He said, and Tommy felt seen. He saw Dream as an equal almost, rather than a babysitter. He felt like he could work with him. Tommy beamed with pride, before wincing. He was going to have a nasty bruise in the morning.

 Dream looks at him, analyzing. Whatever thoughts were going through his brain were unknown to Tommy, but he cared little of it.

“C’mon, let’s go before it gets dark.” Dream states while walking ahead of Tommy. Tommy stands there, staring at the now broken golem. He shakes his head, feeling the approval of Fred in the back of his mind. With Dream getting father and farther away, Tommy runs to catch up, still boasting about their victory.

And Dream never asks what caused the golem to attack in the first place.

He didn’t need to.

Chapter Text

Hi everyone! I wanted to put a chapter here just to let you know that I am alive!!!! I’ve been through a lot but I am not abandoning this story. Now that school has started I will be working on this a lot more and I’m currently just trying to remember what I had planned (I have so many documents and notebooks with those details I’m just organizing them).

So hopefully new chapters coming soooooon!!!!! I actually have the next three outlined anyway I just need to figure out where I was going (I have the main story scene planned and the ending planned don’t worry)

Let’s GOOOO

ALSO, I highly advise you to revisit the previous chapters as my writing style has changed since and I will most likely be updating them to help get back into the SCU Tapes grind. If the authors note at the top says “updated version” then I’ve made changes. Have a good day :)

Chapter Text

Hello everyone!

It's been a really long time since I have updated this story, and there are a lot of reasons for it.

The first one was, in all honesty, grief. Losing Technoblade was a huge hit to the community, and I found myself struggling to write or read stories with his character. After that, life and school just got in the way. The final nail in the coffin for me, though, was everything that happened with Wilbur Soot. I left the fandom after that, and just lost interest. I don't know where I was going with this story, but I remember the time spent planning and all of the dedication that went into it. It will always have a special place in my heart.

That being said, I looked at the first chapter and-wow. I do not like my old writing style. I don't think I can continue the story from where it left off, but I do have an idea... I think I want to try rewriting it!

The general idea of the story will be the same, but I've improved so much as a writer and I'd like to show that. It also helps to rewrite it since I have NO IDEA where any of my writing plans went... oops. So, if you would like to stick around, I will be updating the description of this story and linking it to the rewritten version when it is out.

Have a good day :)