#decided to try my hand at writing Tommy and Wilbur reuniting because ow pain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

condorclaw · 3 years

Text

TW: panic attacks, child abuse, death

"Excuse me, are you okay?"

The voice was unfamiliar, yet comforting. It was a stranger, but it bore a resemblance to somebody that Tommy held close to his heart. He tried to speak, to ask what was going on, but his throat felt empty. His vision was dark, his head pounding with pain.

"Oh dear... he looks awfully young..."

Another comforting voice, but Tommy couldn't even try to identify who it could belong to in the moment. His arms burned, feelings of lingering scratches scorching along his skin. Tommy wanted to cry, but though he could open his mouth, no sound emerged.

"Here, come here, John. Use his arm."

Tommy felt his body moving, though not on his own volition. His arms were draped over two different surfaces, and if Tommy were slightly more stable, he could identify that they were shoulders. A sharp screech ripped from Tommy's vocal chords as his feet were placed on the ground, the first noise he made upon awakening. The two figures jolted at the noise, almost letting Tommy's arms slip from their hold.

"Give 'em 'ere. Gently now."

A third voice, one that sounded far deeper than the other two, and one that stirred a memory from a while ago. Tommy's body was maneuvered, being placed in the large, strong arms of the newcomer. The sensation reminded Tommy of being carried through the snow, those same arms holding him close as hot breath blew across his face, trying to warm him. Tommy wanted to cry from the sensation alone.

"Get th' weird guy. The one with th' radio."

The sound of quick footsteps grew fainter as one of the unknown voices left. After what felt like an eternity of floating, Tommy felt slim fingers brush across his hair, gently raising it from his face. He winced as they touched along the left side of his face, tracing a pathway across his features.

"What could have happened to him...?"

Tommy wanted to know too. His mind was foggy, faint memories lingering so close, yet so far. All he could remember was the sound of blood rushing to his ears and screams of pain. They might have been his screams.

"Ey, man!"

The familiar greeting struck through Tommy's thoughts, his body immediately jolting in an effort to get up. His limbs still felt like lead, but Tommy didn't need to get up to know who it was.

"M-Mexican Dre...?" Tommy whispered, the name catching in his throat as he tried not to cry.

The energetic skipping of footsteps ceased almost immediately after Tommy spoke, replacing the sound with quick, yet soft clicks of shoes as somebody rushed to Tommy's side.

"Tomas...?"

The voice was filled with horror, something Mexican Dream rarely showed, if he even experienced the emotion of fear. A gloved hand rested along Tommy's right cheek, sending a comforting wave through his aching body.

"Oh, Tomas... What has he done to you?"

Tommy wanted to cry. He wanted to move. He wanted to do anything. Mexican Dream was here, within his reach, and yet Tommy couldn't touch him.

"Eyy, pig man." Mexican Dream's attention shifted away from Tommy, his hand sliding off of Tommy's cheek, causing him to whimper at the loss of the comforting contact. He needed to know he was safe.

Mexican Dream and the stranger carrying Tommy began to talk, but their words were lost on Tommy as the ringing in his ears returned. The burning sensation in his arms returning as well with painful ferocity as he tried to struggle out of whatever held him. It didn't work though, as Tommy could barely move, let alone try to break free from the stranger's grasp. Feeling hopeless, he cried out again.

"Tomas," Mexican Dream had returned to his side, moving his hand to gently grasp with one of Tommy's. "We're going to take you somewhere, okay? It'll make you feel a lot better, man. Trust me on this!"

Tommy had no other choice. Even if he was one of those crazy people who didn't trust Mexican Dream at all, there wouldn't be any other option than to allow his pained form to be taken somewhere else. After he let out a whine of agreement, Mexican Dream's hand patted his before pulling away, causing Tommy to softly whimper once more.

The stranger began to move, loud, heavy footsteps following behind a pair of softer ones. The anxiety of the situation stung at Tommy's thoughts, causing his breathing to quicken, alerting the attention of somebody he had never heard before.

"Deep breaths, kiddo." The voice was low, yet soothing. "Just copy me, okay?"

Unable to answer, Tommy followed the man's instructions as closely as he could. He could feel the synchronized breathing loosen his muscles, allowing the sensation of his throbbing head to diminish slightly. It was easier to focus with the pain gone, and Tommy tried to identify what he could while continuing to breathe in tune with the man.

The arms that held him were rather rough, feeling like the rawhide of an animal. They held a gentleness to them though, one that felt protective and trustworthy. A thin layer of hair could be felt along the limbs, gently prickling parts of Tommy's body through his clothes.

Tommy's breathing slowed as he managed to relax, the sound of the heavy footsteps getting fainter as the intensity of his pain subsided. It still hurt, but not as much as it did before.

"Thank y-you." Tommy whispered out, feeling a slight smile begin to form.

"Pleasure's all mine, kiddo."

It was almost kind of relaxing at this point. The sway of movement, the knowledge of potential allies and friends by his side, the relaxing beat of his own heart-

...

Tommy didn't have a heartbeat.

The last thing he heard was a screech of alarm before the boy blacked out once more, the sensation of his skin burning returning.

"-ommy. Tommy, wake up."

A sting of sorrow pierced through Tommy's body as he felt himself regaining conciousness. Another hand was caressing his own limp one, fingers tracing along the scratches littered across his skin. The protective touch sent Tommy's mind to a lingering memory, his hand gripping tightly to a man's own as he was pulled through the forest, the sound of footsteps thundering behind the two as the tips of arrows nearly missed piercing their bodies.

"Come on, Tommy-!" The man's panicked shout was cut short, the smell of blood stinging Tommy's nose as the man was struck by an arrow. Cries of victory were heard, and all Tommy could do was drag the body of the man away to a hiding spot, watching as the life drained from the brunette's eyes. One left, the thought echoed in Tommy's mind.

"Wilbur?"

The hand shifted from tracing Tommy's scars to rest in Tommy's hair, a whisper of relief barely reaching Tommy's ears.

"Yeah. It's me, big man."

"I can't see you," Tommy muttered in return, the darkness in his sight never faltering even once. He needed to see him.

"I know, it takes a moment," Wilbur continued to pet Tommy's hair, combing his fingers through the tangled mess. "Your eyes are closed, can you open them for me?"

His eyes had been closed this whole time? Immediately stabbing thoughts pierced through his mind, yelling insults and repeating horrible shouts for him to stop being so stupid. Wilbur must think of him as an idiot, just like back in Pogtopia-

“I know, it hurts. Do you need me to help?”

Tommy wasn’t sure what he said in response, the swarm of demeaning words clouded out his senses until he could only focus on Wilbur resting his hands on both sides of Tommy’s face, his thumbs stroking his eyelids in a soothing motion. The contact allowed for him to familiarize himself with his face once more, recalling where all his features were. Slowly, he began to lift his eyelids, Wilbur removing his hands as he saw Tommy moving.

Tommy came face-to-face with Wilbur, the wave of emotion causing a prickling feeling at the corners of his eyes. Wilbur’s skin was pale gray as it had been while he was Ghostbur, and his eyes glowed a soft white, which was different from the black void that Ghostbur had. Aside from the changes of color, Wilbur looked just like how he did in the Camarvan. His face was pulled into a kind smile, and although he had no pupils, Tommy knew he was looking directly at him.

“There you go.” Wilbur’s teeth were sharp as he grinned, leaning down to bump his forehead with Tommy’s own. “I knew you could do it.”

Wet drops fell across Tommy’s cheeks as he reached out a shaky arm, desperate to hug his brother close once more. Wilbur understood what Tommy wanted, helping his brother to sit up before wrapping his arms around Tommy’s trembling frame. Tommy could feel his tears being soaked up by the fabric of Wilbur’s yellow sweater, only making him cry even more. He could hold Wilbur again.

The faint sound of a bottle popping caused Tommy to raise his head slightly, twisting to see where it came from. There were no buildings or items anywhere in sight, just a white abyss that encompassed everything surrounding them. Sitting a few feet away from the two brothers was a familiar beast. His horns were twisted upwards, nearly covering half of his own gray face. The suit he wore was a bright blue, contrasting the dark hair upon his head and along his chin. Somehow, the man looked more alive here than Tommy had ever seen him up on the podium.

“Schlatt?”

The man nodded, hoof tapping the ground as he took a swig from the newly-opened bottle in his hand. He let out a large burp and wiped his mouth before standing, taking a few steps towards Tommy. “Got that right, kiddo.”

Wilbur let go of Tommy, leaving the boy sitting up, still slightly dazed from seeing the former dictator look so… peaceful.

“But, aren’t ya dead? You died in front of us.”

Wilbur and Schlatt exchanged a look of concern, Schlatt being the one to speak. “Tommy… you know Wilbur is dead too, right?”

“W-What? No, Wilbur was-”

Explosions. The withers. Philza crying out.

“...killed.”

A sigh escaped from Wilbur’s mouth as he returned to Tommy’s side, letting his hand rest in the younger’s hair once more. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

The seed of worry in Tommy’s stomach exploded into a forest of realization.

He was dead.

Dream had-

The memory came rushing back like a typhoon, drowning Tommy’s mind with that one moment. The loud crack ringing out from Dream slamming his foot onto Tommy’s wrist. The screams of pain ripping from Tommy’s throat as Dream slammed his fist into Tommy’s cheek. A hand grabbing his hair and tugging him to the nearest wall, pulling his head back and slamming it forward with the sound of bone shattering.

Tommy’s arms wrapped around himself as his breathing took a sharp turn, becoming rapid and irregular. Wilbur’s hand jolted back from his brother’s head, hovering a few inches over Tommy’s shoulder in reflex. Schlatt took a step back, alarmed at the sudden shift in emotion. His hand was raised slightly at his side, looking on worriedly.

“Schlatt?” Wilbur spoke softly, shifting his gaze towards the former president. “Could you-”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I know what it’s like. Take care of the kid, okay?”

Schlatt turned away, walking off and vanishing in the white abyss, leaving Wilbur alone with Tommy. Upon Schlatt leaving, Tommy allowed a desperate sob to escape, his hands entangling themselves in his own hair. He tried to tug on fistfuls of the strands, but it only caused his panic to grow as his thoughts would immediately take him back to his last moment alive.

“Tommy, Tommy, hey. Look at me, please?”

Tommy’s hands loosened their grasp slightly as he moved to face Wilbur. His brother’s arms were open and inviting, a calm expression relaxing all of Wilbur’s features. His eyes glinted with worry, but he didn’t speak it.

Within seconds, Tommy’s hands were clutching the back of Wilbur’s sweater once more as the man loosely wrapped his own around his little brother, holding him as closely as he could. As they embraced, Wilbur began to sing. It was a song Tommy had never heard before, but Wilbur’s soothing voice made him remember all those nights in Pogtopia, when Tommy would wake up after nightmares and his brother would sing him to sleep.

“You’re safe here,” Wilbur whispered between lyrics as Tommy felt his eyes beginning to shut with exhaustion.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Tommy had no idea where he was specifically, or who else was with him besides his friends, but he could work all that out later. For now, he just wanted to stay in Wilbur’s arms, listening to the melody that reminded him of home.

#decided to try my hand at writing Tommy and Wilbur reuniting because ow pain #dream smp #c!tommy #c!wilbur #c!schlatt #mexican dream #tw panic attacks #tw child abuse #tw death #by the way the four unnamed people with Tommy are John John. Lyaria. Sheriff Sherman Thompson. and Catboy!#because the idea of them all existing in the same death space is pretty cool and can lead to more pain #my writing #my post

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