Mumbo bounded into the room, startling Tommy.

"What the-"

"Tommy!" He half-shouted before seeming to catch himself. "Uhm, sorry. Okay, I have a surprise." He looked at Stress, who had just walked in. "Can I tell him?"

Stress laughed. "I don't think you exactly have a choice."

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. Surprises weren't always good.

Mumbo grinned. "Stress thinks you're ready to get out of bed!"

Tommy's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"You can see Hermitcraft! I'll have to show you my base, but it's technically not my base anymore because Scar owns it now... but-"

"Mumbo," Stress cut off the man's excited ramblings. "We kind of have..." She gave a pointed glance at the wall seeming to lead outside, confusing Tommy.

"You have what?" He asked.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Mumbo's head. "Oh! It's nothing!" He drew out the word. Tommy didn't believe him one bit. He narrowed his eyes before deciding he didn't want to wait anymore.

"Can I get out of bed or not?" Tommy asked impatiently. He could tell Mumbo was antsy as well; the man was quite literally hopping in place.

Stress grinned. "Go ahead!"

Her eyebrows shot up as Tommy went to leap out of bed. "Wait! Wait. Hold on; we have to go over some stuff first."

Tommy groaned.

"Rule number one, no running. Rule number two, no lifting over 5 pounds," Tommy gaped at that. Five pounds was hardly anything! "Rule number 3, no flying, yet." Flying? Did she mean with a trident? Tommy was pretty sure humans couldn't fly, except if you were Philza. He was an exception. Plus, how could Tommy fly if he didn't have wings? "Overall," She finished, "Don't overexert yourself. We don't want your wounds to open back up."

Well, she was a killjoy.

"So, can he get out of bed now?" Mumbo asked before Tommy could say anything.

Stress smiled. " Now , he can." Tommy grinned. " Carefully!"

Tommy threw his blankets off and put his bare feet on the floor, relishing in the coolness of the tile. Mumbo stuck out a hand to help him up, and Tommy didn't take it, obviously. He didn't need pity.

He instantly regretted that choice as he promptly fell over, sending the adults rushing to help him.

"I said carefully!" Stress scorned.

"Sorry!" Tommy said sarcastically, earning a look.

Tommy ignored the adult's offers to help as he hauled himself to his feet. Days upon days of doing nothing but sitting made his legs feel like jelly, and he had to put a hand on the wall to stay upright.

Mumbo raised his eyebrows. "How's that going for you?"

Tommy stuck out his lip. "It's going great, thank you very much. I don't need help!" He insisted.

After a few minutes of falling over, Tommy's legs finally seemed to figure out how to work again. He was a bit worried, though. The adults kept on looking at their comms, and he could tell they were watching for something.

"Are you ready to go outside?" Stress asked. Tommy nerves flared up. Outside. What was outside? There were no windows where he was staying, so he had no clue what this place was like.

Still, he nodded, and the adults flanked him as they walked through the halls. Finally, after they passed through a room filled with chests, they came to a door.

From the safety of the building, Tommy peered out at the surrounding landscape. He was in a jungle- a very strange one at that. Giant insects floated through the air, and off in the distance, he could see what looked like an enormous, half-finished tree.

He stepped outside, nearly falling into a lake. Who put a lake right next to the entrance of their base? Speaking of the base... Tommy looked behind him at the building. Or rather, a- skull? Not just a skull- a skull with flowers on it. Tommy stared at the sweet woman standing next to him. This was her base? What the heck?

Suddenly, several loud, very recognizable sounds startled Tommy.

Fireworks.

Just like that horrible festival.

Tommy could still feel the heat from the firework blast as he rushed towards his best friend, still dizzy from the pearl he had thrown. Tubbo was slumped against the half-broken box he had been trapped in. His shirt was nearly all burnt off, leaving red, angry wounds bleeding on the ground. Tommy ran towards him, calling his best friend's name. There was no response.

Tubbo felt cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat that surrounded him. Tommy pulled the brunette into his lap, trying to ignore how wrong his best friend felt. He brushed Tubbo's matted hair out of his eyes. They were closed, an almost peaceful expression plastered upon his mangled face. It was almost like he was sleeping, so Tommy decided he was just sleeping. Tubbo wasn't dead. He couldn't only have one canon life! That was supposed to be just Tommy! Tommy had done everything he could to keep Tubbo from dying again, and so how could he be dead? How could Tommy have failed?

Tears slipped down Tommy's cheeks as he hugged his best friend's cold body, ignoring how the red stained his shirt. He didn't know how long he stayed there, curled protectively over Tubbo, but when he felt the brunette's corpse begin to crumble into flakey ashes, leaving his things lying pitifully on the ground, Tommy knew he had failed.

Tubbo had died. He was down to one life. And it was Tommy's fault.

It was all Tommy's fault.

~

"Suprise!" The hermits yelled as they landed in front of Tommy, particles still lingering from the fireworks they had set off to give an extra boost as they arrived. Mumbo had been planning the surprise party for days, ever since Tommy'd had the panic attack. The boy needed some cheering up, and what better way to cheer someone up than a party! But, to be honest, Tommy didn't look too cheered up. In fact, his face was blank, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Tommy?" Grian asked, running up. "Hey, Tommy? Are you okay?"

He didn't respond.

Tears began spilling down Mumbo's own cheeks. He had messed up again. Tommy was having a panic attack again, and Mumbo was responsible. He just wanted to help the kid! Not break him!

Hermits began crowding around the boy, who had since sunk to his knees. Everything was chaos, people trying to help while others were trying to give Tommy space. Someone started shouting, trying to get people to move away. It was all too much.

"Stop!" Mumbo yelled. Everyone paused. "Stop yelling and give him space. We need to be calm, or else nothing anyone does will help. Does anyone here know how to handle panic attacks?" Mumbo didn't feel ready to take that challenge on, not with other people around.

"I do," Impulse spoke up. "I knew someone who used to get them, and I helped them sometimes. Still, it's different for everyone, so I don't know how much I can do."

Mumbo nodded at him, and he approached the boy, who had moved from kneeling to the same position he had been in when he'd had a panic attack with Mumbo.

Impulse crouched in front of Tommy, whispering quietly. Tommy shifted, seeming to hear. Then Impulse held out 3 fingers, probably asking Tommy to count them. Tommy whispered something back.

The same thing went on for a bit before Impulse helped Tommy to his feet, the boy looking around at the people surrounding him. He looked scared, and it broke Mumbo's heart. Again, he found himself wondering what hurt someone that young to that extent.

Stress led Tommy inside as the hermits started to whisper. Impulse walked up to Mumbo.

"I'm worried about Tommy. He kept whispering, 'Tubbo.' Do you have idea what that means?"

Mumbo shook his head. "All I know is that Tommy went through something . He actually had a panic attack a few days ago when he was with me, and I had to calm him down. I was worried I wouldn't be able to today because there were so many people around." Mumbo explained.

Impulse nodded in understanding. "Do you know how old he is?"

"16", Mumbo said quietly.

Impulse's eyes widened. "16! I could have sworn he seemed at least 18." He glanced up, shaking his head. "What happened to him?"

"I wish I knew." Mumbo sighed.