A golden fire raged around them as they danced in what space was left in the ballroom, the sound of blade against blade almost lost beneath the roar of the flames.

"I gave you a home. I gave you shelter when your brother was too far gone to care for you anymore," the man in green said between jabs.

Tommy didn't respond, only continued blocking Dream's hits.

"Just put your weapon down," he continued, the blade of his axe grinding against Tommy's sword. It wasn't a strong sword, more meant for show than for battle. The durability was low, he could feel, and he was nowhere near as good a fighter as Dream.

But he was crafty.

Tommy's sword gave out and he jumped out of the way of the axe. Dream wouldn't have seriously injured him anyway, he knew that. Still, it was better to be careful.

"We can talk about this, Tommy. I don't care about the house. You'll have to make up for making me use one of my resets, but just listen to me-" Dream broke off as he dodged a piece of debris Tommy launched at him from the other side of the space.

Tommy didn't want to listen. He'd been listening for too long, and he was sick of Dream's stupid voice.

"Your stupid act isn't gonna work anymore," he said, lying through his teeth. "I know what you're doing."

Dream didn't reply. "What if you leave, and I kill you?"

"You can't afford to kill me."

He bit back a laugh as he saw Dream pause. Oh, he would cherish this - cornering Dream, the Man in Green, the man who he thought he owed his life to. But he couldn't cherish it for long - he had his chance, and he needed to take it.

He leaped at Dream and drove his broken sword right through his chest. Dream wasn't wearing his mask, so Tommy got to see every ounce of emotion on his face. He had been dreaming of that look for years, the look of betrayal, of fear, of anger. Finally knowing, feeling everything he'd felt since Dream took him in.

But the look on Dream's face was not one of anger. It wasn't one of fear, or betrayal, or anything like that.

No. Dream was smiling.

Too sick to look at him any longer, he took the water bucket he forever kept in his inventory, carved a path in the flames, and ran towards the door.

He did not expect to see Ranboo at the door.

His eyes were wrong, but Tommy figured he would try anyway.

"Ranboo," he began. "Ranboo, we can go. Dream is dead. Dream is dead, let's run, Tubbo's waiting for us, we can go, we can leave this fucking place-"

Ranboo stopped him, holding up a clawed hand. "⊬⍜⎍ ⌇⟒⏁ ⍜⎍⍀ ⊑⍜⋔⟒ ⍜⋏ ⎎⟟⍀⟒," he hissed. "⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⊑⟟⋏☍ ⟟'⌰⌰ ⎎⍜⌰⌰⍜⍙ ⊬⍜⎍?

"⏁⍀⏃⟟⏁⍜⍀."

He swiped at Tommy, who raised his right arm to block it and immediately regretted it. Ranboo's claws stung like hell, on top of, oh you know, getting his flesh ripped from his bone.

"Ranboo listen to me!!" Tommy yelled, trying so desperately to not pass out on the spot. "I'm not the traitor! Dream's been lying to us for years!" To that, Ranboo scoffed.

"⍜⏚⎐⟟⍜⎍⌇⌰⊬."

Tommy paused. "..What?"

"⊑⍜⍙ ⎅⟟⎅ ⊬⍜⎍ ⋏⍜⏁ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⟟⋉⟒? ⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⌇⏁⎍⌿⟟⎅?"

Fuck. That did it. Tommy took his water bucket and tossed it on Ranboo, apologizing internally to the right Ranboo. But this wasn't the right Ranboo. Stupid Dream stan Ranboo. He didn't deserve an apology.

The enderman screamed and scratched at his skin, running away from the water source, hissing barely-audible threats to Tommy. He could understand Enderman clearly enough, but only when Ranboo really tried to annunciate. This? Practically gibberish.

He apologized again to Ranboo - the right one, obviously - and ran, ignoring the blood dripping down his arm, following him to and over the Snowchester fence, leaving the crumbling house behind him.

But then something wrapped around his ankle, something cold, something burning hot, melting, sharp, and painful and he turned around and saw Dream's piercing green eyes, near glowing in their brighness, staring deep into his own eyes.

You will never get rid of me. :)

---

Tommy sat upright suddenly. It took a moment to place himself- why wasn't he in his room? Where was he??

..Oh.

He was alone in his room in Snowchester Manor. Dream was far- not far. Still alive. But at least he didn't have to see him every day.

A twinge of nostalgia plucked at his heart, and he realized, heavy-hearted, that he missed Dream. He missed learning under him, missed the suffocating quiet of his home - though the liveliness of Snowchester wasn't awful. Far from it, actually - but that was besides the point.

Something in him actually missed Dream.

He wanted to rip whatever part of his stupid heart still felt any remorse for him out and burn it. And he realized with a grimace that he'd probably do it without a second thought, as well. Dream had had him do so many horrible things, he wondered how he ever put up with the bitch.

"Come on, Tommy. Let's go home." A kind smile, a real smile, not the one painted on his mask but the one spreading across his face.

Dream was horrible.

"Wilbur is long gone, Tommy. There's nothing to worry about." The comforting embrace of the Man in Green, the way he could turn so gentle in a second.

Dream was evil.

"Welcome back, Toms." The way he'd be so happy when Tommy did something right, when he returned from a mission with everything in order, or when he kept Ranboo in line-

So why did he miss him?

He knew the answer. Dream wasn't evil, not really - he was just.. doing what he needed to do. Those were Dream's own words, and as many times Tommy repeated it, he'd thought he'd believe it by now.

He didn't know how he felt.

That was simple.

The satisfaction he'd felt in killing Dream, as payback for all the years that he had been realizing were nothing but gilded memories, was just as equal as the doubt of whether he'd done the right thing. Tubbo seemed to hate Dream, at least. So did the rest of Snowchester, for that matter.

Agh. This was all too confusing. He'd just- go for a walk. Clear his head. That would help.

Still heavy with sleep, he stood, taking a deep breath, and walked out into the hall. He wandered aimlessly for about an hour (the hallways in Snowchester Manor were so very confusing) before coming across a set of towering french doors that led to a large, open room. There wasn't much inside, just some old chests and an abundance of spiderwebs. Curiosity got the better of him and, setting down a torch, he dug through one close by the door. Inside were some old pictures of places and people unfamiliar to him - some ramshackle log cabins against a smokey, snowy backdrop. On the back was written "Snowchester, Winter '13."

That's nearly ten years ago, Tommy thought, pulling out more of the Snowchester photo stack. Tubbo said something happened to the original Snowchester... these must be from then.

After several pictures of people he didn't care at all about, he came across a picture of Foolish (it was surely him, with his golden skin) carrying a big log and another, smaller, familiar boy following behind carrying a log just as big. Tommy squinted at the picture, trying to place who it was. Then-

"Tubbo??" Why he was surprised, he didn't know - Tubbo just looked so young there. He would've only been eight or nine, so..

"..why is he helping build?" Tommy sifted through more of the photos. There were lots of Foolish and Tubbo together, mostly building but there were a few of them just being together. It looked like they were sitting in a bright bakery in one, being served by a woman with pink hair. The next photo was blurred - the pink-haired woman was ducking as Tubbo went after her with what looked like a fork.

Tommy laughed to himself and continued flipping through the pictures. It felt strange to be looking so closely through another's life, but he couldn't stop. These pictures seemed so lively, so loving.

And then, they weren't.

There was a portrait of Tubbo standing next to a man in a suit in a dark doorway. The man had a lit cigarette in between his grinning teeth, and big, twisting horns sprouted from his temples, just like Tubbo's. His hand was on Tubbo's opposite shoulder.

Most notably, Tommy noticed, Tubbo wasn't smiling.

He flipped the photo around to see if there was anything on the back, and sure enough, scribbled in permanent marker, "Tubbo and." Whatever came after "and" was scribbled out and unreadable. Underneath was written "Schlatt."

Schlatt... wonder if that's his dad. A deeper part of him wondered why he wasn't in Snowchester.

There were a few normal photos after that, of the current Snowchester family and some others he didn't recognize.

The final picture in the stack made his blood run cold.

A valley, on fire, blurry and orange and violent.

Snowchester.

Creak

Tommy jumped and hid the photos in his inventory, whirling around to face whoever- or whatever - was coming through the door.

"..Who are you?" The voice was small and childlike, and the silhouette that came through the door matched. "Are you Tommy?"

"Uh.. yeah. And you are?"

"My name is Michael," the boy yawned. "Can't sleep. I thought you were Tubbo."

"..Sorry, s'just me." Tommy leaned back against the chest he'd been snooping in, and Michael toddled over and sat next to him.

God, he had no idea how to handle children.

"So, uh..." he began, attempting to break the suffocating silence. "How, uh.. how are you?"

Michael shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"Any.. reason you're up this late?"

"Can't sleep. I said that already."

Tommy sighed. Why me??!

"You got like.. insomnia or something?"

"No, only old people get that." Michael brought his knees to his chest. "I can't sleep when there's bad magic."

"Huh??"

"Bad magic," he repeated. "Like Dream."

Oh.

Tommy bit his lip, a small worry building in his chest. "He's not here, though."

"No, but I can feel him nearby. He's really close. It hasn't been this bad ever." Michael pointed to the east. "He's over there. Outside. I think he's looking for something."

Tommy felt frozen, like there were a hundred hands pinning him down. He couldn't breathe, let alone think of any kind of response to Michael. He knew why Dream was out there, he knew what he was looking for. Some irrational part of his brain kept him frozen in case Dream was, somehow, watching.

"Why are you awake?" Michael asked. So nonchalant, like he hadn't just said the shit he'd said.

"Uh- It- I had, um.. I had a nightmare."

"About what?"

Tommy swallowed, running his thumb over his knuckles anxiously. "Dream."

"Oh. Probably because he's over there."

"Maybe."

"Because he's over there, and his bad magic is really strong and can get through even Foolish's barriers. I bet he gave you the nightmare."

Tommy laughed a little. "That's not.. that's not possible for me. My nightmare was from my own brain."

"What do you mean it's not possible?" Michael tilted his head.

"Well... I've got this, this thing - Tubbo calls it a black hole, I just call it anti-magic. It kinda.. voids any magic around me. Magic attacks don't work on me, illusions and stuff like that. Believe me, Dream would give me nightmares if he could, but he simply cannot."

"You're impervious?"

"I'm sorry?"

Michael smiled a little. "Jack taught me that word last week. It means you can't be touched by something. You're impervious to magic."

"Well- sure, in some ways. Elemental attacks still can touch me. And if magic users stand around me too long any magic they have idle stops working."

Michael hummed. "Can I try?"

"Uh, sure.."

Michael giggled and got to his feet, standing back a bit. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and began to weave a bit of magic. Tommy watched in awe. It was light, and pure, delicate - like soft, glowing yarn.

Then, it turned sharp, and shot towards Tommy.

He didn't even flinch as it fell apart inches from his face, disappearing before it even hit the ground.

"Whoa!!" Michael clapped his hands giddily. "You didn't even jump!!"

"Well, it's always been like this. You get kind of used to having a weird shield."

"So it is magic!!" he said.

That made Tommy pause. No... no, that wasn't right. He was anything but magic.

The wonders of a child, he mused, must be so simple.

"..Sure," Tommy smiled wearily.

---

Jack was the one who discovered them in the morning. Tommy found out with a sharp kick in his side that jolted him from his sleep.

"Oi," Jack spat. "The fuck're you doing in here?"

"Sorry!!" Michael jumped to his feet. "He was showing me cool magic stuff! We must have fallen asleep..."

"You?? Magic?? I thought you couldn't do that."

"He can!!! Look!!" Michael repeated the trick from the night before.

"Michael.." Jack sighed and ruffled the kid's hair. "That's what happens when someone's anti-magic. They get so evil and grumpy that their heart turns into a black hole and sucks up the magic around it and ruins everyone's fun."

"You mean.. like Tommy hates magic?" Michael turned to Tommy, his eyes big and sad.

"No- Jack is lying, I do not hate magic. It's just a shield, like I said last night, remember?"

The kid's brows furrowed, and he turned back to Jack. "Yeah... yeah!! You're lying!! Tommy doesn't hate magic!! He's the second coolest magic user!!"

Second? Tommy beamed at Michael.

"Right. Michael, Puffy wants to see you for breakfast. She's in the main hall."

"Okay!!!" And in a snap, he was off, filled with energy that, just a few hours earlier, seemed nonexistent.

"So why were you two down here alone?" Jack eyed Tommy, assumedly thinking of all the evil Tommy could be committing. None of which were true, by the way.

"Neither of us could sleep. I had a nightmare, he said something about bad magic or shit."

"Bad magic?" Jack hummed. "Did he mention Dream?"

"Yeah, actually. He said Dream was walking around the east side of the house, like he was really close. He said Dream was looking for something."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah, for you."

Grimacing, Tommy moved towards the doors. "I think I know that, thanks."

"Tommy." Jack's tone made Tommy stop. Too similar.

"Snowchester can't hold you forever, I'm sure you're aware. Especially with your... " He gestured to Tommy.

"My anti-magic," Tommy finished. "You can say it, you know."

"Whatever. My point is, Snowchester is more than a place. It's a family. And you're not a part of this family.

"The others are too kind to tell you, and Tubbo is biased. So I figured I'd be the one to say. You aren't welcome here, Tommy. Not forever. I don't care what Tubbo says; until I have a reason to trust you, I refuse to accept you here."

"Is this because I worked for Dream?" Tommy deadpanned.

"Obviously. How long were you with him, seven years?"

"Five," he corrected, gripping the doorknob with incredible force.

"Five years. So yeah, you don't come away from that being completely disloyal to him."

"I killed him, Jack."

A tense silence set in.

"And you lied about how many lives he had left. Because clearly, he's still fucking alive."

That did it. Tommy slammed his fist into the door once, then twice more.

"It's fucking complicated!" he shouted. "You don't have to fucking trust me, okay? Trust the fact that you saw Dream's house on fire two nights ago. Trust the fact that Tubbo trusts me. You have nothing against me other than the fact that I used to work for Dream."

"Dream fucking destroyed Snowchester, Tommy!!"

Everything went quiet.

"I have every reason not to trust you. He's the reason we all lost our homes twice over. How can I believe that you won't make it three?"

Tommy didn't reply.

"..you can't," he said finally.

"Exactly. Glad we could come to an understanding." Jack slammed the french doors behind him, the glass panes shuddering in their frames, and left Tommy alone.

Tubbo had told him a bit of what a day in Snowchester looked like, so he knew that by now everyone would be gathering in the main hall, but he didn't really feel like being around anyone else after Jack's rant. He wandered the west halls for a few minutes before he heard something strange.

Someone was singing.

It was a strangely ethereal sound, deep and slow, echoing down the strange twisting halls of the west wing. Intrigued, Tommy followed it. It didn't sound like anyone he'd met the day before, and he didn't remember being told about anyone else (though he had run out of the main hall before being properly introduced).

And suddenly, Tommy turned a corner and came face to face with a person he'd never met before in his life, decorated in overly extravagant clothing and drapery. The person jumped, cursing.

"Who are you??" they gasped. "I've never seen you before!"

"Who are you?? I thought the others were super careful about who they let in."

They laughed. "Well, I am an old friend. And if you're here, you must be too."

"..I guess," Tommy shrugged.

"I'm Eret. And you are..?" Eret held out his hand, and Tommy took it reluctantly.

"Tommy. I'm Tubbo's friend."

Eret brightened, grinning widely. "You're Ghostbur's brother??" he exclaimed.

Ough. It felt like someone had taken a bat to Tommy's lungs. He didn't want to think about Ghostbur. And that sentiment must have shown on his face, because Eret's smile fell quickly.

"Oh... you're not?"

"No, I- I am.. I think. I just don't like thinking about it."

Eret nodded. "Ah. I won't speak of it anymore, then." She smiled, and put a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "So how long have you been staying here?"

"This is only like, my second day. Jack's already threatened me."

"Jack?? He's so nice though, why would he-"

"I used to work for Dream."

Eret fell silent at that, frowning ever so slightly.

"...Don't take his words to heart, okay? He's.. resistant to change. He'll come around, I know."

"Doesn't seem like the type to come around."

Eret laughed. "Yeah, he is a bit stubborn. But if he could forgive me, I'm sure he'll do the same for you."

Forgive Eret? Did they work for Dream? Tommy was sure he would've heard about it, but then again, Dream was a faraway memory now, right? He didn't have to care about him anymore, about anything that man had going on.

Except that was far from true. And the sting he felt, learning something about Dream he hadn't been told outright, betrayed the lie he'd been telling himself the last year.

I don't care about Dream.

"So." Eret gave Tommy a soft smile. "What brings you to the west wing?"

He decided to ignore how corny Eret sounded. "Like I said. Jack threatened me, and now I feel like being alone. What about you, why were you singing out here?" He hoped his discomfort didn't show in his voice. Please, I don't want to talk about me.

Eret shifted, suddenly red in the face behind their long hair. "I don't.. I like singing, it's cathartic. But I don't like singing around others. It's nerve wracking."

"That's stupid. No one cares."

"You cared."

"Only because you scared the shit out of me. I thought there was another ghost here."

They laughed again. "Nope. Just me. Sorry to spook you, though."

"Should be," he joked. Eret was strange, he decided - though he supposed everything about Snowchester had been strange thus far. His eyes seemed to be blank, pure white. Maybe they even glowed a bit - which was easier to see in a dark hallway like this. It reminded Tommy of stupid rumors Wilbur would tell him when he was younger about ghosts and gods.

"Do you like my eyes?" Eret teased, startling Tommy.

"S- Sorry," he murmured, looking away. "Didn't mean to stare. I was just remembering stuff."

"Yeah... I used to hide them. Dream said they were a sign of weakness or something. But I think they're cool now."

"They are, sure."

"Well- I should probably go see Puffy. I'm a bit of an errand dog for her, and I'm collecting a reward today."

"A reward? For what?"

Eret paused, staring Tommy down with an unreadable expression. "You'll know someday, I'm sure."

But I want to know now. Tommy bit back his reply and started off after Eret as she walked down the halls.

They walked in silence for a few moments before she finally spoke up again. "I thought you didn't want to see anyone."

"I don't."

Eret hummed. "Or maybe you really don't want to be alone."

Silence.

"Shut up."

And so she did.

---

"Eret!!" Puffy smiled and embraced her friend, who returned the gesture.

"How have you been, Puffy?" they greeted, and the two of them began chatting. Tubbo wanted so desperately to talk to Eret about everything - about Dream, Xidea, magic, anything - but Puffy never let him.

Maybe this time could be different.

Puffy had told him he was too young to know too much about everything that was happening with the gods and Dream, which, he argued, didn't actually make any sense because if anyone deserved to know what was happening with Dream it was him and the rest of Snowchester. After all, considering what happened on the mountaintop-

"Tubbo, you okay?" Jack had his hand on Tubbo's shoulder all of a sudden. He looked down at his hands, and the fork he'd been holding was twisted into a circle.

Shit. He hadn't meant to do that.

"Yeah, fine I guess." Tubbo crudely bent the fork back, now dented and wrinkled.

"Jack, I need to speak with Eret in private, so breakfast is on you." Puffy smiled and headed downstairs.

"Wh- But I-" Jack spluttered. "Yesterday, and-"

"Rules are rules, Jack," Foolish grinned.

"Yeah, rules are rules!" Foolish Jr., who stood next to Foolish by the window, repeated, his grin mirroring Foolish's.

Jack glared at the two, then stalked to the kitchen, which sat beneath the dining platform.

Tubbo waited approximately thirty seconds before very quickly heading down the stairs and, ignoring Foolish, who was calling after him, disappearing down the hall Eret and Puffy had gone down.

This early in the morning, the halls were dark and cold, but he could see Puffy's stark white hair stand out against the deep shadows. They were much further down the hall, but if he focused, he could hear them speak. So Tubbo slid into a space behind a pillar and a conveniently placed drawer stand, and listened.

"...understand, he knows I don't want anything to do with him. You'll have more luck learning anything from that Tommy kid-"

"He mentioned a revive book, Eret. Are you sure you didn't hear any mention of it?"

"Of course I didn't. Dream isn't the kind to expose that information unless he can use it against who he's telling. So-"

"So why does Tommy know?" Puffy groaned. After a moment, she spoke again. "...Okay. I just... I don't really know if I can trust Tommy yet. Tubbo said he saw the manor on fire, and Jack did as well... but no one saw Dream dead."

"Yeah... that is quite the predicament. But Tubbo's smart, and he wouldn't help someone who worked so close to Dream without good reason."

"And with that I'm inclined to trust him. But still... I can't bring myself to believe that Dream was on his last life."

"Unless Tommy killed Dream three times, then set the house on fire."

"Maybe... but why would he?"

Eret shrugged. "Does he need a reason? Puffy I think you're reading too far into this. I spoke with him on my way in, I.. I don't think he's bad."

Puffy sighed, and Tubbo could hear a smile in her voice. "Oh, Eret, you were always one to trust easy."

"And you were always too wary for your own good."

"Hey. It's called being careful."

"It's called being uptight. Tommy's just a kid, he can't hurt you in any way that matters."

"Tubbo's his age, and if he were out to get me, I'd be dead. All I'm saying is that it pays to be cautious. Especially since no one, not even Foolish has heard of any kind of 'revival book.' I'll offer him my home for now. And.. if you'll continue to ask around for me, see if anyone knows anything about the book."

"Can do, Puffy. I won't be back for a few weeks, but I promise I'll return as soon as I can."

Relieved, Puffy sighed. "Thank you. We'll continue to monitor the manor from here."

"Sounds good. It doesn't surprise me that Dream has access to something like a backup, having help from Xidea and all, but I never thought I'd actually get to see it."

"It's just a copy. It can't hold up for long, can it?"

"Dunno... no one knows much about them. It's anyone's guess."

A silence followed Eret's words, a silence filled with Tubbo's heartbeat, so loud he was sure the two adults could hear him.

"Do you.. want to stay for breakfast?" Puffy asked. "Jack's improved greatly from last time you ate with us."

Eret chuckled, and Tubbo heard the soft thudding of their heels against the carpet getting closer. He held his breath. "Really?"

"He has!" Puffy was closer, too. Shit. "We've had him making breakfast for a few weeks now."

"Oh, I'm sure he's enjoying that," Eret chuckled.

Tubbo then realized he was far too in the open - his arm was sticking out the side of the column. There was barely room for him in the narrow space as it was, but he couldn't leave his arm sticking out like that. He tried to shift so he could pull his arm closer, and-

thump

Fuck.

He'd bumped the dresser.

He heard Puffy sigh, and he screwed his eyes shut, wishing he could will himself invisible as he heard her walk closer.

"Tubbo, I know you're there."

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out from behind the pillar.

"I thought we were done with this," she said.

"With what?"

She clicked her tongue. "This- This whole thing. You, thinking you can help us. This stuff is too dangerous for you."

"Wasn't too dangerous for Tommy. Besides, didn't you just say I was smart enough? I don't-"

"Tubbo."

The look she gave him was unreadable, but it was anything but soft. Suddenly feeling very small, he uttered an apology.

"Thankfully, everything we discussed was stuff you already know." She ruffled his hair and rejoined Eret. "You'll be joining us this morning, right?"

Too occupied with his own thoughts, he nodded absently, and followed the two back into the main hall, where they gathered without Tommy for the second time.

---

snip.

"We missed you this morning," Tubbo hummed, tossing a clipping beside him.

Tommy scoffed. "You missed me. No one else cares."

"That's literally not true."

Tommy didn't reply. "Whatever. I'm not used to the whole family thing, anyway."

Sighing, Tubbo clipped a few more offshoots of the crepe myrtle and chucked them at Tommy, who yelped in surprise.

"What the fuck is this??" He examined the leaves. "Smells like shit."

"It smells like leaves, Tommy. It's just a crepe myrtle." He clipped the last few sprouts at the base and tossed them. "You know how you get used to this 'family thing?'"

"I don't, that's how."

"You spend time with us."

Tommy huffed and leaned back against the glass wall, tossing the crepe myrtle clipping off the platform. "Jack certainly doesn't want me to."

"Whatever. He acts tough and shit, but he's just... Jack. He's not a threat."

"That's not what he said to me.." Tommy muttered. He meant for Tubbo not to hear, but when he looked back up, his friend was staring him down.

"What??" He immediately looked away. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Did Jack say something to you?"

"...He just said he didn't like me. Because I worked for Dream."

Tubbo sighed and stood, walking over to sit next to Tommy. "He's just cautious, Tommy. You know what happened to Snowchester, yeah?"

"I know Dream destroyed it."

Tubbo was silent for a moment.

This isn't my story to tell.

He looked at his wrist, and the middle heart, void of color. It had been his life, too. So he took a deep breath, and made a choice.

"Dream killed Jack."

"What??"

Tubbo nodded. "We were running from Snowchester as it was burning. We'd settled in a valley, so.. we were surrounded on all sides. We had to run into the mountains, and... Dream cut us off there.

"He told us to hand over what he wanted, and.. all of us were prepared to die for him. Jack was the one who stepped forward, though. And- don't get me wrong, he's a good fighter, but..."

"..Dream is better," Tommy finished.

"None of us stood a chance, but Puffy had us run while Jack fought him. And not even- not even a few minutes later we heard that damn bell. I wanted to go back, I wanted to see Jack alive- but we had to keep moving. Because we all knew that bell wasn't for Dream.

"I don't really remember much of that night, but I remember Foolish shouting from the entrance of the house we'd been staying in, a sort of .. furnished cave, I guess, and when he came back inside, he was carrying Jack with him. He was alive, Tommy, he- He'd been on his last life when Dream killed him. I knew he was. But he fucking came back on his own, and followed us.

"He.. died pretty soon after we brought him inside, his injuries were... And- I couldn't let him..." I couldn't let him die.

"I used my second life to bring Jack back for good. I made- I made Foolish bring him back. And.. well, here we are. Just took being super careful to make it this far, I guess.

"I know I'm young to only have one life left. But.. you know, L'Manberg blowing up was... a lot of people lost lives then. I'm sure you did, too."

Tommy didn't reply, and Tubbo suddenly became hyperaware that maybe he hadn't said the right thing.

"S- Sorry, I just... I wanted to offer perspective. It's not- I don't think it's fair that Jack hates you. You didn't really have a choice in working for Dream, right? So-"

"No, no, I get it." Tommy's voice was dripping with sarcasm, sour and seething. "Dream killed him. That's a big fucking deal, isn't it?"

"Tommy-" Too late. Tommy stood up and walked to the other side of the platform.

"Dream killed him and burned down his home. I'm so sorry. I never realized Dream was a piece of shit!"

"Tommy, stop!" Tubbo reached out to grab him, but Tommy pushed him back.

"You think Dream never hurt me? I told you, I didn't have a fucking choice working for that green bitch. I always knew he was shitty. Yeah, when we met I'd forgotten. But I know what he did to you and I know what he did to me. You don't need to try and get me to pity Jack for holding a fucking grudge, I know. It's just not- It's not fair!"

"..What's not fair?" Tubbo asked hesitantly.

Tommy paused. "...I don't know. Fuck this. I'll be in your room, I guess. Maybe."

He crossed the plank that connected their platform and the entrance (he'd set it up so he didn't have to use his elytra).

"Oh, by the way-" he called from the entrance, turning back just enough so Tubbo could see his eyes, "-your craymyrtil is shit. I hope it dies."

And with that, he left Tubbo alone.