Chapter Text
resilience
/rɪˈzɪliən(t)s/
noun
- 1.
- the capacity to withstand or to recover from situations.
"the remarkable resilience of so many institutions"
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Tommy was a big man, and as a big man he knew one thing. He was resilient.
Or so people have said.
Now when Tommy said he was resilient, he didn't mean he knew what that really meant. He had some sort of an idea of what it was but Tommy was so busy being a big man, he didn't have time to learn big words.
That and also, you know… a whole war going on.
It wasn’t like he had to know what it meant anyways. Nobody had time to be worried about such small things like that. Nobody even cared to teach kids about that kind of stuff. You know, everyone for themselves, kind of thing.
But Tommy was fine with what people called him cuz he knew it was only good things since they were, after all, talking about him!
And it's fine, Tommy has always survived with nothing but his wit. He’s survived a ton of things and it was always by himself.
He didn't need anyone, and even if he has a couple of scars and apparently he’s also got ‘trauma’ from Dream beating him to death in prison and cutting off his wings in exile since apparently he could use them to escape, Tommy’s always been the one to come out on top.
His scars? Yeah well now he looks manly. So what if he can't even stomach the fact he looks nothing like himself?
Oh, he died in that prison? He's alright now, he's not dead now. Even if he can't feel the regular warmth of his body after dying now? Nobody cares.
And so what… what if he still yearns for the sky even after Dream had clipped his beautiful wings? That's none of your business, whether he does or doesn't any one of those things!
So that's why, when the whole SMP went to shit cuz Dream got out and blew everyone and everything up. And Tommy woke up in this strange as hell and weird place, he knows that he can survive, like he always has.
Yet this time, he’ll do it without people who love him, who make him want to push through. This time he has to do it for himself. And this time he actually has to mean it or he might just break down and cry if he stops pushing forward for a second.
But even though Tommy The Big Man pushed through and was thriving on the streets someone had inevitably caught him and handed him into the police. And they were always asking a bunch of questions that are useless and whatever.
Even going as far as to do a medical check on him, but only having found his bone structure a bit weirder than normal and also the rather large wounds on him being the ones where his wings were supposed to be, but thankfully didn't comment on it. They weren’t paid enough to say anything more than if he was alright anyways.
It also probably had to do with how this world doesn't have hybrids weirdly enough. People in his original world were all sorts of people with weird traits. Things like, Tubbo having ram horns or Ranboo having enderian features.
Just another thing he had to add on to living in this freaky world that he has to deal with.
But where the world fails, Tommy pushes through again, but he pushes it through violence. Because it’s how his world did it and it’s how the people did it too.
Tommy is fine with being alone, he doesn't need people to worry about him at all. Not when he’s been by himself for a long time already.
This new world however, decided that's not okay.
And believe him, Tommy tried to adhere to this world, tried to tell them he was fine by himself. He can fight, he knows a good amount of potion making and most importantly, he can take care of himself and has been for a long time already.
But because that was supposedly not enough for them and cuz when they asked about his education, well… Tommy was silent for perhaps the second time in his life, first being when he found out that he had to go to school of all places like a spoiled brat.
(This world sucked in that aspect, is all that Tommy had to say about it, he’s a big Man, why on earth did he need to know about if he should say ‘may’ or ‘can’! How about he sees if he may kick your ass, huh Samantha?!)
Even everyone and their mothers were all up in his business about him. All like, ‘Where’s your parents?’ ‘Do you know where you are?’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Thomas, stop punching him!’
Perhaps the only good thing to come out of this world were the Superheroes.
Yeah, that’s right, Superheroes.
They are like regular people but who can like, have powers and shit!
All of them are mad poggers and they can even get away with anything. Sure, because of everything that happened and Tommy trying to adjust to the world made him have almost no time at all to get to know them, he still found the idea of Superhero’s cool as hell.
But with all heroes there are, of course, Super-villains.
Sure some of them have kind of stupid powers or just social rejects but some are also really cool. Some of them like Angel who has huge fucking wings and can literally fly. Too bad only like a few people in this world have superpowers or even rarer, hybrid traits.
But he’s also like 99.9% sure that’s this universe's Phill.
Which, he plans on avoiding at all costs.
Listen, he does not want to see his sort-of-dad in another universe. One that won't even recognize him. He’d rather just be jealous of his huge wings than to wish to hide inside them just like a kid again.
Also speaking about supers and kids, the kids on the streets always talked about them. So Tommy was kind of glad about that. It was the one thing about the streets that he was thankful for.
But Tommy had tried to say that he could become a superhero’s sidekick or something other than being stuck in a boring ass life with school on top, they just laughed and told him to grow up from his childish dreams.
Which, fuck them, but also apparently if you want to be a hero or even a hero adjacent, you needed to be an adult, and if you weren't an adult you need a guardian, and if you don’t have a guardian you needed to go to foster care.
It was all annoying, cuz as Tommy said, he was a big Man, and all the women loved him and he was in a war for Prime's sake!
And to add insult to injury, Tommy apparently didn't look like a Big Man like he said, (All bullshit he says, of course he looks like a Man.) and he has to have a legal guardian, he also needed to go into ‘Foster Care’. Its like a huge fucking circle that always ended up with him being in foster care.
So Tommy swallowed his pride and went to the damn foster care, it probably can’t even be that bad. They even said he's top priority and it would barely even be a long wait.
…
Accept it wasn’t! Tommy felt like this whole thing took years (It was 2 months, but still his point stands.)
And now, finally after months of torture and a few horrible homes that were stuffed to the brim. Tommy sits in a ‘car’ with his ‘social’ worker, who looks suspiciously a lot like freaking Sam of all people and also a recurring thought of ‘damn, a lot of people in this universe sure as hell look familiar. Maybe Tubbo and Ranboo are also-’ but he stopped it before he could even consider it.
Can’t get hurt if you ignore it.
Anyways he had more important things to focus on, namely wow-ing this new foster people off their socks so he can leave fucking ‘Foster Care’.
Heck, the agency even dressed him all pretty and everything, combed his hair and told him to behave nicely so he could finally leave, cuz apparently he wasn't supposed to hit people when they fucked with him, to that he says ‘Fuck Them’ but he’s on his best behavior to get out of that damned place.
Nothing, and he means nothing will be worse than that Prime forsaken place. Everything about it sucked. There's a million rules, and a million more people who throw pity at him when they see him and his scars.
Taking in a deep breath as he steadies himself, as he opens the car door and grips his backpack tightly.
He takes a deep breath and dusts off his pants as he gets out of the car. He walks behind his ‘Social’ worker (And now he can finally leave this Sam doppelganger.) and swallows thickly before shutting his eyes closed and counting to ten. A method taught to him by Puffy when he felt a bit nervous.
He hears the door open and even Sam's clothes shuffling as he greets his potential foster parent he can feel his fingernails even dig into his palm, probably forming a few crescents in it too.
“Hello, May we come in?” Tommy hears ‘Sam’ gleefully ask before probably stepping into the house.
“Of course!”
Immediately his eyes snap open and Tommy’s first thought it,
‘Maybe going back to that foster place isn't so bad after all…’
Cuz call him crazy but Tommy is staring right into the eyes of his abuser. The same man who killed him, and the man who forced his best friend to exile him. The man who ruined his life.
Dream.
Yeah fuck that, the system can't be as bad. He wasn't really serious when he had said that perhaps nothing is worse than foster care, there are only about three places where Tommy would say he’d gladly rather be in foster care with all the winning kids and sleepless nights and all, than be with him.
And all three of those places aren't even in this freaking world.
So doing what Tommy knows best, and a common greeting from his world. He socks Dream right in the fucking face as he (definitely) deserves.
‘Sam’ freaks out as Dream’s eyes roll back and he collapses to the floor.
Tommy feels… a bit bad but, honestly it’s not even his fault everyone in this damn world is so weak. He meant to hit the guy enough for it to hurt, but not enough for him to actually pass out?!
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About 30 minutes after Tommy had punched Dream he started to feel bored out of his mind as this world’s ‘Sam’ tries to get Dream to wake up. He had taken to sitting on the step, pulling his bag off of him and onto the floor beside him. Still closing and opening his eyes as he stares at Dream.
Maybe he’ll just disappear if Tommy does it enough times. He thinks he’ll hit a breakthrough with number 1460 but so far no good. You know what they say, 1461 times the charm.
‘Sam’ is probably panicking in the corner of his eye, but Tommy is way more focused on trying to count the blinks for his game.
By the way, was his jacket always this hot? And has his heart ever beat this loudly before? Can Dream hear it too? Is he waking up right now? Is he going to drag Tommy back to exile and cut his-
Suddenly a pair of fingers snaps in front of Tommy, pulling him out of his sort of spiral.
“Well, are you going to help me get him inside or not? Considering this is mostly your fault.” ‘Sam’s distressed face is staring back at Tommy now.
Gulping for air, Tommy answers stiffly still trying to come back from the memories of that place, “U-uh Yeah big man, ju-just give me a moment. I need to catch my breath for a moment.”
‘Sam’ throws him a worried look before picking up Dream’s legs and dragging him inside the house. He struggles to get a grip before Tommy decided to get his shit together and hooks his arms under Dreams as together they both get him inside the house and onto the couch.
Tommy sits idly on the couch as he continues to freak out over the fact that he may have just killed his future foster parent and he has to go back to foster care again. And that may or may not be just as or even worse.
But after a long struggle of trying to get Dream onto the couch ‘Sam’ sits down beside him and although he’s trying to look calm, the way his leg is bouncing up and down shows his concern.
‘Sam’ looks between Tommy and the unconscious Dream, probably trying to determine if he should call an ambulance for Dream or shout at Tommy.
He picks the latter as he crosses his arms and glares at him. Tommy pointedly looks away from ‘Sam’ finding the wall opposite him particularly interesting.
‘Sam’ seeing as Tommy’s not going to speak, does so instead, “Care to tell me what the hell was that, Thomas?”
“Tommy.” He corrects automatically. He’s been trying to get the guy to stop with the whole ‘Thomas’ Thing. He finds it super fucking annoying as Thomas isn't his name but no one here believes him.
“Tommy,” ‘Sam’ corrects himself before he asks again, “Why did you punch him? Even if you make a bad first impression, it's usually never physical.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know that right after you leave me, I do throw a punch at one of the kids.” Tommy grins, and ‘Sam’ looks like he needs a drink. Good to know that Tommy still has the ability to make anyone want to kill themselves after spending a second with him.
“That’s… not exactly helpful right now. Tommy, Mr. Wastaken was the only person who’s willing to take you in right now. At the very least just stay with him until I find another person. If it gets too bad, you can always call me and we’ll figure something out.”
‘Sam’ sighs again as he runs his hands through his hair, trying to think of a way this can work, and it’s not like his usual one where he’s annoyed with Tommy or even disappointed. It’s more like, well to be honest it sort of reminds Tommy of Wilbur a bit.
That feeling of where he’s tired and Tommy just seems to be jumping on his last nerve. Yet, underneath he puts up with it for him. Like he’s trying so hard to help Tommy.
Tommy remembered those moments where when he woke up, he still felt weak. Back to those cold nights on that hard fucking floor where sometimes he wished he could go back. Where he wished that this whole thing was a huge fucking nightmare and when he wakes up, he wakes up back inside L’Manburg again playing the disks.
Tommy can’t help but sort of wish that ‘Sam’ was just annoyed instead of being worried about Tommy. Cuz that’s what Wilbur always thought, isn't it? The fact he could wake up one day and Tommy could literally die cuz he was on his last life.
God knows that the war was weighing hard onto everyone. Especially Wilbur, dude felt like he was on a tight rope walking between being sane and insane, and a rock named Tommy was thrown at him, pushing him towards insanity.
Tommy curls in on himself slightly, “Ugh, fine… I’ll try to play as nice as I can, and as soon as I can leave, I'll leave.”
‘Sam’ smiles at Tommy before he tries to shake Dream awake again. Tommy rolls his eyes as he gets up from the couch to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and hands it to ‘Sam’
“What is this for..?” ‘Sam’ questions as he holds the glass cup filled with water.
“To throw at him, duh.” Tommy answers back shamelessly.
‘Sam’s horrified face stares back at him, “What the hell Tommy! You can't do that!” and just like that, their soft moment was broken as the two fell into a screaming match.
“How the hell do you suppose we wake him up, clearly shaking him is doing jack!”
“I don’t know, usually social workers don't deal with this kind of stuff!”
“Yeah? Well I have, so just trust me and throw it at him!”
“No way, that is so unprofessional…” ‘Sam’ says back, clearly trying to be mature but it wasn't working with Tommy and his… Tommy-ness.
“Fine, I'll do it myself!” Tommy tries to grab for the cup but ‘Sam’ holds it above his head, “Tommy don’t you dare!”
Suddenly a gasp is heard from behind them as the two look to a now conscious Dream.
Dream eyes the two and the cup before he speaks again, this time albeit with a shaky smile, “I take it that this is likely not the after-life..?”
He’s probably trying to lighten up the situation but Tommy thinks it's making it worse when he sees ‘Sam’ grimace.
“Ah, Mr. Wastaken, fortunately no. Tommy is usually a flight risk, and I believe you’d benefit from perhaps preparing for… well honestly the worst.” It seems that this ‘Sam’ is just as petty as the one back home.
Dream’s small smile drops a bit and he sits upright on the couch as he pushes himself to stand.
‘Sam’ offers to help Dream walk but he shakes his head and glances towards Tommy.
“Well, other than our first meeting being… uh… that. I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Clay and you are?” Weird how his name isn’t Dream, but whatever.
Tommy grunts and his eyes narrow, “I don't know why you’re asking, you already know my name.” He huffs as his arms cross around him, “Also I mean, what kind of stupid name is ‘Clay’? Like your parents took one look at your face and went, ‘YeAh ThAt’S ToTAly A cLay-”
“Thomas.” ‘Sam’ grits out, interrupting Tommy and using the name he hates.
“I think I will be going now, seeing as you’re alright now, Mr. Wastaken. And Thomas, please.” ‘Sam’ hints at what they had talked about earlier before Dream had woken up and their little spat.
Tommy sighs as he holds his backpack strap tighter. “....Okay.”
Turning to Dream, Tommy inhales preparing for the worst after ‘Sam’ will leave. Best to get introductions over while ‘Sam’s still here.
“I guess you can call me Thomas.” Cuz no way in hell was he about to let Dream of all people call him Tommy again. Even if he hates the name Thomas it's better than being reminded of exile all over again.
Dream grins as he holds out his hand, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Thomas. I hope you’ll enjoy your time here. I’ll give you a tour of the house-”
Tommy just stares at the hand and doesn’t bother to take, to which Dream awkwardly draws back, “Well uh this is the-”
He tunes Dream out after he had watched ‘Sam’ leave and begins following Dream around mindlessly, barely even keeping any information of the house's layout other than the escape routes.
If push comes to shove, Tommy can always just run away, not like Dream can stop him as they already found out that Dream is way weaker than his Dream.
“-And finally this is your room!” Tommy snaps back to reality just as Dream opens a door in the hallway.
“Sorry it’s a bit… bland, but i had thought that you’d want to decorate it yourself! You know, make it your own and everything.” Dream has the audacity to even look sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck like a fucking highschool girl.
Tommy’s eyebrows furrow as he watches Dream carefully, he reaches out to put his hand on the door handle to open it before he asks, “Okay thanks i guess… uh so like…”
He isn't sure how to bring up the most important thing. He’s learned by now that every house has The Rules™
But really it's just them telling Tommy he has a curfew, (One he usually never follows) and about him taking things and a bunch of other nonsense.
Dream tilts his head to the side confused as Tommy flounders around for the right words to use. Eventually he decides to just say it outright.
One thing he learnt from this experience is that he should never team up with Dream for charades.
“Okay, what are they…. you know the rules?” It hurted Tommy to swallow his pride a bit more, but he needs to just know. His dream made all the rules quite clear right from the start, so Tommy always at least had an idea of at least why he was going to get beaten.
This one? Literal minefield. It doesn’t matter if this Dream is weaker than his. That could just mean he was way better at manipulating him.
When Tommy had said that, Dream smiled.
“...”
“...”
“...well? What the hell are they?”
“...oh, you were waiting for me?”
Tommy stares at Dream in shock, his hand stilling on the door handle, “Uh yeah?! It's your house!”
Dream fiddles with his hands and pointedly not looking at Tommy at all, “I just sort of assumed… you would, you know?”
Tommy huffs as he crosses his arms, nevermind him being afraid of this Dream, this whole thing just made the guy seem more brain dead than anything. Tommy doesn't have to worry about this guy ever harming him. But then again, this Dream could be manipulating him again.
His eyes narrow as he stares into Dream’s soul trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
“Okay, maybe that was stupid on my part-” Tommy’s mutter of, ‘Ya think?’ was ignored by Dream as he carried on, “But I thought you’d have a few rules you’d like to make.”
“And I can make any rule I'd like?”
Dream sputters, “W-Well i mean not any but-”
“Okay, it's been decided. I want you to let me lock my door. AND you have to knock to enter.” Tommy’s so proud of himself, the other foster homes were smart enough to already establish what he can and can’t do. This Dream was an idiot by letting Tommy get to choose his own rules.
Dream, on the other hand, looks mildly horrified. “I fear that it’s common sense actually… And of course you can, I’m not going to… just walk into your room whenever I want! That’s your personal space!”
“Uh… well, then I guess I’ll make more when I want to.” Tommy scratches at the bandaid on his wrist, one he had gotten from a previous foster home. He’s not really sure what this Dream wants from him.
When the air between them turns silent, and starts to feel suffocating, Dream takes the initiative to clear his throat and continue for the both of them.
“Well, uhm. Have a good night, Thomas.” He mutters awkwardly as he walks to his bedroom presumably.
“Yeah yeah, night, Dream.”
And Tommy opens his bedroom door, just missing the way that Dream had stilled when he had called him that.
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The moment Tommy opened his eyes, he was greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling of his new temporary home.
Tommy was not ready to deal with another day in this damn world, nevermind another day with Dream of all people. But the light that had shined through his hastily closed curtains did little to help.
Okay, change of plans. Tommy’s going to get at least an hour more of sleep, even if it kills him again. The whole of last night he was constantly waking up with every little sound due to him being wary of living in the same house as his murderer.
Tommy pulled the covers over his head as he shut his eyes, ‘Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep-!’
It seemed like his little chanting never worked as now he felt even more awake despite how exhausted he was.
Groaning, Tommy sat up in the bed still contemplating if it's too late to still sleep in. He dragged his hands down his face as a thought pops into his head, ‘Today is going to be a good day.’
And he really wanted to believe that.
But Tommy also wanted to scream, he wanted to do nothing more than to be outside where he could see the stars at night and joke around with what little friends he had. But God is a bitch and hates him.
“Tommy, are you up yet?” Dream shouts from the kitchen.
“Yeah! Yeah, just give me a moment to get ready!”
He sat up and shuffled to the edge of the bed before hastily getting his shoes on as he stumbled out of his bedroom door.
Tommy fiddled with his jacket sleeves before he had heard Dream’s voice again.
“I was thinking, we should go out for breakfast!” Came his cheery voice.
Dream was waiting at the end of the staircase, and as soon as Tommy had looked up he was met with an astonishing sight, one of that Dream in a pink apron covered head to toe in flour.
“What the hell happened.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about.” Dream answers back confidently. Even when he sneezed and the white dust went everywhere.
“Really? What's all this then?” He walks closer to him and touches the apron slightly, his hand coming back completely white.
“Drugs” Dream answered back quickly, before being appalled at his own answer.
Tommy raised an eyebrow, and Dream immediately backpedaled, “Okay, not drugs.”
Dream huffed before continuing, “But I wanted your first day here to be good. So I tried to make pancakes and well-” Dream gestures to the rest of the kitchen. “-and as you can see, it didn't exactly go well.”
He didn't get a good look at it before having been way too amused to see Dream in an embarrassing state, but getting a proper look at it now ... .
Yeah Dream is never allowed in a kitchen ever again. He walked into the place and there were eggshells on the floor and not to mention the black pan in the sink smoking after he assumed it had caught on fire.
Tommy walked into the kitchen observing the mess and eyes the remains of something that was once pancakes sitting on the counter, his hand reached out blindly for something to grasp and made contact with the table to steady himself but had ended up touching something wet.
Shit.
Quick as ever, he shut his eyes. Tommy didn't want to even look at his hand, he was not ready to deal with whatever the hell was on his hands too, but he unwillingly cracked an eye open and stared at his hand which… was now covered in pancake batter.
Great, just fucking great. Now I gotta deal with this shit too.
As he tried to wipe it on his pants, they also ended up rubbing off on them. To which Tommy just let out a grunt of frustration, frantically trying to rub at his jeans to get the batter off.
Turns out, trying to rub batter off your pants, just makes it smear.
So now, Tommy’s one hand is covered in flour and the other and his jeans are smeared with batter. The day just keeps getting longer and longer, and honestly he just wanted to head back to bed again.
Dream was horrified and quickly tried to grab a dish cloth but touching his hand against the stove by accident “Shi-” Dream looks to Tommy still standing in the kitchen and quickly changes his choice of words. “Uh… crap.”
Clearing his throat from his little blunder, he began again, “Do you need help..?” offering the cloth towards Tommy.
“You can say ‘Shit’ big man.” Tommy deadpanned.
“It’s not about the word, it's about the intention! You’re still young and I shouldn't say that kind of stuff around you.”
Tommy furrows his eyebrows, “First of all, I'm not young, I'm a big man. I haven't been a child for a long time. Second, I swear already, what good is it to try and prevent me from hearing all of that shit now?”
Dream looks towards Tommy, and holds the cloth awkwardly, “Do you truly believe that you are not a child?”
“I mean, look at me-” Tommy gestures to face to where most of his scars sit. A particularly bad one on his eye making him a bit blind in it. Another traveling across the bridge of his nose and just about a million more scattered across his face. “-I don't look like a child either, do I?”
Dream looks closer at Tommy’s scars, his grip on the towel tightening, “Most kids may not have the amount of scars as you do, but that just means you need a guardian more”
“Please, just take a good look at me. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” Tommy bites back at him.
“I know that the person I'm looking at needs help. Even if you weren't a child I would still like to help.” Dream presses on, still trying to… do something. He isn't sure himself what the guy wants from this.
Tommy grit his teeth, who the fuck was Dream of all people to tell him what he needed? The fucker never gave a shit about him and never has. What is he trying to do? Play hero?
“Yeah? Then you would be wrong. I dont need your stupid fucking pancakes or your help. I don't need you being nice to me and I just don't need you! So leave me the fuck alone.” Tommy was sure his face was red. He could feel every single harsh breath he had drawn in. The way his muscles tensed and the way blood was rushing to his head.
He was mad. Actually forget mad, he was downright furious.
Furious at Dream and at the guy for calling him a child that needed help, for trying to be some sort of hero to Tommy, acting like he wasn’t a huge asshole. He was furious at ‘Sam’ for placing him here, telling him to behave and play nice.
He’s furious with himself, for thinking that this Dream could be different from the one he knows. By now he should have known they are all the same.
Dream looks at Tommy and places the cloth down onto the counter, “You can think that no one cares for you. But I do. And I'm not going to stop even if you punch me again or even shout. I want what's best for you, Thomas. Even if you, yourself, don't. I’ll try my hardest to be there and support you.”
Dream looks determined, but Tommy is more than ready to burn those down to the ground.
Dream thinks he can change the way Tommy feels? Fuck him. Tommy’s not going to listen to ‘Sam’. He is not behaving, Dream will feel the full force that is Tommy Innit.
“You don't know me, so don't act like you do.” Tommy says, as he turns and walks back to his room. He didn’t need food anyways.