Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tommy didn't know why he brought the photo with him into the prison. Maybe it was because he didn't trust the other members on the server to leave his stuff alone. Maybe it was because he hoped he could ask Dream about it.

Or maybe it was because he knew he'd need the comfort it brought him.

Whatever the reason was, Tommy brought the most important thing he owned into the prison. It was a photo that was taken when he was seven. He was sitting on a bench with his older brother, the ice cream cone in his hands threatening to spill as his brother ruffled his hair.

It was all he had left of his brother. His real brother, not the few close friends who he’d given the honorary title to. The two had been separated just six months later when their parents divorced. Before they had said goodbye, his brother wrote a note on the back Tommy's copy of the photo.

The black ink was faded and smeared at places, but Tommy could still read it. Hell, he could recite the damn thing in his sleep.

Tommy, I will always love you. I hope one day I can see you again.

He tried to ignore the cruel irony in the note. He tried to convince himself that his brother did still love him, but that had gotten harder and harder over time.

When Tommy had first joined Dream’s server, he had been searching for his brother. After the divorce, their mother had become abusive towards him. Tommy had tried to ignore it. He tried to convince himself that she was only doing it because she was hurting, and that she'd stop eventually, but she never did.

As a result, he spent a lot of time at his friends’ houses. Unfortunately, their kindness and generosity ran out, and they all ditched him. Tommy ran away that very same day. If no one around him was going to love him, then he'd just go looking for the brother who promised he would.

He thought his brother was in Dream’s server. He had been sure of it. But instead of his brother, Tommy had found a monster.

Now he was locked in the prison, desperately waiting for Sam to come get him. Tommy hadn't dared to pull out the photo in front of Dream. He didn't know what the man would do if he saw it.

If he was being honest, Tommy had been terrified the entire time he had been in the cell. He did his best to hide that fear with his loud personality, but that meant that he was almost constantly arguing with Dream.

They argued over potatoes. They argued over the clock. They argued over the item frame. They argued over who got to sit in the small water pool. Hell, they even argued over the last blank page in a book.

The argument they were currently having was by far the worst one.

Somehow, they had gotten onto the topic of death and revival. Tommy still thought it was complete bullshit. How could a drunk idiot like Schlatt have possibly gotten his hands on something so important? He was getting sick of Dream holding the book over his head like some kind of toy.

“Look, I could kill you right now if I wanted to!” He shouted, glaring at Dream with his fists balled up at his side. Dream was silent for a second, cocking his head to the side as if in thought. His posture was relaxed. Casual, as if he were just speaking to an old school friend.

“Ok. But you won't.” He took a step towards Tommy, almost as if he was challenging him. Tommy had half a mind to carry out his threat, but he knew he couldn't. He could never bring himself to do that, no matter how many threats and insults he threw out.

Dream must have taken his silence as an invitation to continue. “If you can't kill me, does that make me some kind of god?” Tommy had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from socking the man right in the face.

“’YoU cAnT kILl Me DoEs ThAt MaKe Me SoMe SoRt Of GoD,” he mocked in the highest pitched voice he could manage. “Shut the fuck up! You're not powerful! And you know what? I don't think the revive book is real. I think you made it up.”

Dream visibly tensed up at that. “Ok, then try to kill me. See what happens.” Tommy scoffed at the threat. He knew Dream couldn't do anything to him. Sam wouldn't let him. But what if Sam wasn't around? He didn't let that thought linger.

“You know what, no. You know why I won't? It's because I’m going to leave this prison, and you'll be stuck here forever! You can act like this revive book is real all you want, but we both know it's fake. The only person who could back up your story is Schlatt, and Schlatt’s dead. I’ve seen his grave. I’ve seen his corpse.”

Dream quickly stepped forward in the small cell and grabbed the collar of Tommy’s shirt. “Why don't you go see him in hell then?” he asked, throwing Tommy against the wall. He felt the air leave his body as he fell to the ground. He didn't even have time to process what was happening or suck in a breath before Dream grabbed him again.

A rough hand yanked at his hair and slammed his head against a wall. Panic quickly set in when he felt blood trickling down the side of his face. Tommy did his best to twist and fight back, but at this point he was completely helpless.

His head was ringing. He couldn't think straight at all as he flailed his arms around in hopes of hitting Dream. His hand uselessly shoved at the older man’s face in an attempt to push him away. That only seemed to make things worse as Dream used his free hand to grab Tommy’s arm, pulling it until there was a snap.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as pain shot through his arm. “Please! Stop it!” he pleaded, trying not to cry. Dream ignored him, slamming his head into the wall again and aggressively shoving him to the ground.

Tommy foolishly thought it was over. He finally managed to get some air back into his lungs, but it was immediately thrown back out as Dream’s foot connected with his chest. He sputtered and coughed as Dream landed kick after kick. Tommy instinctively moved his hands to cover the small pocket on the front of his shirt in an attempt to keep the small photo from getting bent.

Maybe it was pathetic that he valued a photo over his own life. He could have tried to cover his head, or at least part of his stomach. But he didn't. Instead, he put all of his effort into protecting his picture from Dream’s merciless blows.

He didn't know how long it took for Dream to stop. All he knew was that every inch of his body was throbbing in pain. Tommy thought he had counted six cracking noises, but he couldn't tell which bones had been broken.

Tommy knew he was dying. Anyone could tell with just one look at him. He could see a pool of blood building underneath his head. He could feel the strength draining out of him, eyes threatening to slip closed at any second.

Ignoring the searing pain in his right arm, he reached into his front pocket and pulled out the picture. It had still been bent slightly despite his best efforts to protect it, but at least it wasn't completely destroyed. If he was going to die, at least he could make sure that his brother's face would be the last thing he ever saw.

Tommy looked into the kind, caring eyes of the boy who had so fondly ruffled his hair, and he finally allowed the tears to fall. His mind was flooded with all the memories they shared together.

Those moments with his older brother were some of the only good memories he had.

He had been the one to teach Tommy how to shoot a bow. Tommy could remember struggling to wrap his little hands around the thick wood of the weapon. He could remember his brother placing his hands on top of Tommy's, giving soft words of advice as he helped the younger boy shoot his first arrow.

Tommy could remember the way his brother had lifted him to the sky like he was a hero when he finally hit his first bullseye two years later.

His brother had always been the one to comfort him after nightmares. Tommy could remember nights when he had snuck into his brother's bed, trying his absolute hardest not to wake him up so he wouldn't be sent back to his own room.

Every single time, his brother woke up as soon as Tommy pulled the covers over himself. And every single time, his brother grabbed a children’s book that he kept on his bedside table and read it to Tommy. He never once made the younger boy go back to his room, no matter how much he threatened it in the mornings.

He could remember the day the photo was taken. His brother had wanted to reward him for finally beating him in a sword fight. At the time, Tommy had felt like the strongest little man alive. Looking back now, he knew his big brother had taken it easy on him.

They had convinced their dad to take them to a nearby park for ice cream. They had sat down on a bench to eat it, and Tommy had eaten all of his in almost one bite. Still wanting more ice cream, he had reached over and swiped his brother's cone right out of his hands.

Tommy remembered laughing hysterically as he held the cone as far away from his brother as possible. “Fine, take it, you doofus!” the older boy said, ruffling Tommy’s hair into a rat’s nest. That was when their father had snapped the photo that Tommy now held in his hand, trying to take in every detail before he died.

He flipped it over, looking at the note on the back. “I will always love you.” But there was no way his brother loved him now. No, he hated Tommy’s guts. So had he ever loved him? Tommy thought he had, but what if it was all a lie? No one else in his life had truly cared for him, so why would his brother?

He needed to know the answer. He needed the truth, no matter how badly it would hurt to hear.

Tommy shakily held out the photo towards Dream and managed to croak, “Did you mean it when you wrote it?” His voice was barely above a whisper. He wasn't even sure Dream had heard him. He was about to try to ask again when the photo was suddenly snatched out of his hand.

Tommy never knew if Dream answered his question. By that point, the ringing in his ears was so loud that he couldn't even hear the bubbling lava.

But he didn't need to hear the response to know the answer. There was no way in hell that his brother had ever loved him. His mom had said so. She told him that he was worthless and unlovable.

He had spent years trying to prove her wrong, but he’d only proved her right. Why else would his own brother kill him?