Back to our regularly scheduled crack!

101.

Schlatt was having the shittiest month of his life. No, that was not an exaggeration.

It all started when Tommy died trying to escape Manberg. At first, Schlatt had been happy about that - not only did it remove a potential problem from the equation, Wilbur had also gone ballistic and attacked Punz, losing his second life in the process. Tubbo unfortunately got away, but Schlatt wasn't too worried about him - Tubbo was a yes-man at best, and without someone to order him around, he'd probably just waste away in the wilderness. And of course Quackity had been pretty upset about the kid's death, but he was powerless to do anything about it.

Tommy was dead, Wilbur and Tubbo were on the run, and Schlatt was the president of Manberg. So yeah, Schlatt was pretty satisfied with how things turned out.

And then Tommy came back as a ghost. Because of course the one time things went right for Schlatt, they'd go sour immediately afterwards. The ghost had appeared smack-dab in the middle of Manberg a day after the elections, named himself Toast of all things, and proceeded to become a gigantic pain in the ass. He'd randomly pop up behind Schlatt, say something in that fucking echoey voice of his, and slowly sink into the floor while maintaining eye contact. Schlatt did his best to ignore him, but holding a cabinet meeting was really fucking hard when all the cabinet members were staring at the ghost hissing ominous threats (in Latin, for no apparent reason) behind him.

Things went from bad to worse when Dream's ghost turned up a week after Tommy. Nobody knew where or how he'd died, but Schlatt was pretty sure he'd drowned - kinda obvious, given how he was constantly dripping water. The ghost had the irritating habit of pelting hapless passersby with water balloons that apparently just appeared in his hands. For some reason, he seemed to go out of his way to antagonize Schlatt-- Schlatt had been woken up more than once by a balloon to the face.

The last straw was when every fucking bottle of booze disappeared from Manberg-- even the ones Schlatt had hidden. He knew the ghosts were behind this somehow, but not only was proof difficult to produce, it was also impossible to punish an incorporeal being whose continued existence depended on pure spite.

Which led to where he was now, hunched over his desk as he tried to finish a contract draft. His eye twitched as his patience finally snapped, and he slammed his hands down on his desk and turned a withering glare on the entity hovering above him.

"What," he snarled, "the fuck do you want?!"

Tommy, who had been looming over him in a T-pose for the better part of an hour, offered him a ghastly smile. "Ỳ̨̳͉̩͎̮͚͆͘͞o͉̭̓̆͛̂̎͘͝u͏̶̘̞̝̟̋̏͢͝͠r̶̛̼̰͖̒̂ ͕̃͗̃̍͋̓͝s̛̰̰̮͋̄̓͟o̢̘̹̍̏̓̓͟û̫̖̺̭̲̘͆̑̌ͅl̙̬̞͖̈͋̇͞."

Great, he could do a freaky voice too. Schlatt took a deep breath, doing his best to fight through the pounding in his head (seriously, quitting alcohol cold turkey was not fun), and made a valiant attempt to reassemble his composure. "Don't have one, try again."

Tommy's smile just widened. "I take payment in cobblestone too."

Schlatt ground his teeth. "If I give you a stack cobblestone, will you leave me alone?"

"Two stacks, and you'll have a deal!" The ghost chirped. "But you gotta mine it yourself-- I won't take it otherwise."

"Fine," Schlatt growled. "Deal."

~~~

Two hours of mining and a close call with a creeper later, Schlatt stormed back into Manberg. Several people sent him bewildered looks as he passed by, but his glower warded off any questions about his dirt-stained clothes and distinct lack of eyebrows.

He dragged himself into his office and dumped the sack of cobblestone on the floor, glaring at the ghost lounging in his chair. "I got your fucking cobblestone. Now get the fuck out of Manberg."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Tommy sang. He swiped the bag into his inventory and promptly dived through the floor.

Schlatt fell into his chair with a groan, only to jolt up when something cold seeped through the back of his suit. He swiped a hand across the back of his head, grimacing when his fingers came away covered in green slime. A glance at his desk showed that several very important documents had suffered the same fate.

"Tommy Innit, you son of a--"

~~~

"Who the fuck uses this much fine print?" Schlatt squinted at the paper. The tiny letters did not become any clearer. "I'd need a fucking microscope to r--"

"You didn't take your calcium supplements."

"FUCK!" Schlatt screamed, jumping out of his chair and whipping around. Dream stared back at him, gaze flat. "Fuck-- you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"You didn't take your calcium supplements," Dream repeated. He held out a little green bottle filled with white pills.

Schlatt snatched the bottle from him, slightly surprised to find it dry. "How the fuck did you get into--" Dream raised an eyebrow. "Right. Ghost." The president huffed. "Look, I already paid off your little friend, so if you could just fuck off--"

"But you didn't pay me."

"Fine, okay. What do I need to do for you to leave me alone?"

"Take care of yourself."

Schlatt opened his mouth. Closed it. Repeated the action several times. "I. . . what?"

"I want you to take care of yourself," the ghost said. "When I'm sure you won't die of a heart attack or run Manberg into the ground, I'll leave you alone."

Schlatt scrubbed a hand down his face. "Okay, but why? I thought you hated me."

"I don't."

"What the fuck was up with the water balloons then?"

". . . Hydration."

"Hydration," Schlatt deadpanned, slightly hysterical. "Fuck it, sure. I'll do it, but on one condition - no more water balloons."

"No more water balloons," the ghost confirmed. "I'll even be nicer. . . but only if you hold up your end of the deal."

"Look, I'll do whatever the fuck you want - just leave me alone."

~~~

'Being nicer', according to Dream, apparently entailed following him around, constantly nagging him about whatever pills he forgot to take and also destroying every cigarette or bottle of alcohol Schlatt managed to acquire. Usually by throwing it off a tall building. Schlatt gave up on fighting him after the fifth incident, which had involved two forks, a dirt block, and high-velocity parkour. Quackity was still getting therapy for that one.

The amount of effort it took to defy Dream just wasn't worth it. Schlatt found himself begrudgingly practicing self-care, actually going to sleep in a bed and drinking at least four glasses of water a day. If his past self could see him now, he'd be appalled.

Begrudgingly, he'd admit that he felt a lot better nowadays. Getting out of bed didn't make his head spin. He could jog to his office without keeling over from muscle exhaustion (though it did leave him a bit out of breath). Hell, he even felt better when he looked in the mirror and saw a confident, competent leader instead of the drunkard he'd been becoming.

Manberg got better, too. Coerced or not, Schlatt was invested in improving his nation. With Dream's blessing, he actively looked for opportunities to expand into the Greater SMP. Infrastructure flourished. The citizens begrudgingly accepted his rule and even grew to appreciate his competence once he lowered taxes. Niki wasn't even trying to stab him anymore! Progress.

Then on a Tuesday, when Schlatt had just finished up his last batch of paperwork for the day, Dream swept into his office and slapped a packet on his desk. Schlatt looked down at it, looked up at Dream's beaming smile, and sighed.

"What is it?"

Dream's grin widened. "Toast's been doing some work in Pogtopia," he said. "He convinced Wilbur to offer a trade deal and economic alliance."

Schlatt stared at him, confused, then realized that 'Toast' was Tommy. "Okay," he said, "first, what the fuck is a Pogtopia, second, why the fuck is Wilbur agreeing to work with me?"

"Pogtopia is Wilbur's new nation. He built it with Tubbo after you ran them out. They've got a thriving drug industry-- and a black market set up in Manberg. Which is, uh, actually pretty vital to your economy. This trade deal just makes it an official market. Instead of. You know."

Schlatt's eye twitched. "So you're telling me," he said, "that Wilbur is running a black market in my nation."

"And you're the only one in the country who doesn't know about it," Dream confirmed cheerily. "Yup."

"I'm the fucking president!"

"And everyone likes the potions more than they like you, so nobody told you. Economics 101."

Schlatt took a deep, deep breath, then glared down at the packet on his desk. "How many pages is this?"

"Seventy. Don't worry, only half of it is fine print."

Schlatt resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Some days, he was proud to be the president of Manberg.

Other days, he was tempted to just let Quackity take over and run off to become a farmer. At least there'd be less paperwork.

102.

"Tommy, man, please, you gotta help me--"

Tommy took a step back. "Woah there big Q, you gotta tell me what you need help with."

Quackity took a deep breath. "Right. Yeah. I-- I lost the rings."

"You what?"

"I know," Quackity hissed. "Please, Tommy, you gotta help me find them!"

"I thought Tubbo was the ring boy! Why the fuck are you asking me?!"

"Because you made them! I don't know-- I thought you'd just know!"

"Quackity, I don't have a telepathic connection with the shit I make. Why didn't you just send a server message and ask if anyone's seen it?"

Quackity performed an accurate impression of someone who had been slapped with a fish. Tommy rolled his eyes and pulled out his communicator.

<TommyInnit>: alrigt fuckers which one of u has the rings

<Sapnap>: wait by rings do you mean THE rings

<TommyInnit>: no i mean the rings my uncle gave me to chuck into a volcano

<TommyInnit>: YES T H E RINGS WHAT OTHER RINGS ARE THERE

<Sapnap>: OH SHIT

<Dream>: please dont tell me you lost the rings two hours before the ceremony

<Dream>: @Tubbo_

<Tubbo_>: Q nevr gave them to me??

<Quackity>: ohh wait I remember now

<Quackity>: I couldnt find you and you didnt reply to your messages so I gave them to ranboo to give to you

<Dream>: you gave them to ranboo??

<Dream>: the memory boy???

<Dream>: that ranboo????

<Quackity>: in hindsight it might n ot have been the smartest decision

<Tubbo_>: @Ranboo what did you do

<Ranboo>: haha

<Ranboo>: so

<Ranboo>: funny story

<Ranboo>: I was hungry

<Ranboo>: I made bread

<Ranboo>: there was something crunchy in the bread

<Ranboo>: I assumed it was some rocks in the wheat but I might have been wrong

<Tubbo_>: Ranboo.

<Tubbo_>: did you

<Ranboo>: perhaps

<Ranboo>: there is. a strong likelihood

<TommyInnit>: please don't tell me you ATE the wedding rings I spent A FUCKING MONTH on

<Ranboo>: I didnt say I did, I just said there was a possibility

<TommyInnit>: im going to kill you

<Ranboo>: that's fair

<Sapnap>: okay but can we please worry about how we don't have rings for the wedding??

<TommyInnit>: we have like 2 hrs theres no way I can make something in time

<Quackity>: just plain bands?

<TommyInnit>: that'd still take at least 5 hrs not enough time

<Quackity>: fuck

<Dream>: you could just take some twine and tie it around your fingers

<Dream>: good symbolic rings and u can replace them later

<Tubbo_>: or you could use handcuffs

<Dream>: i'm sorry What

<Sapnap>: Dream's idea sounds good, does anyone have string

<Quackity>: I only have fishing line

<Sapnap>: that's fine

<Sapnap>: wait no i can't give you a ring made with your stuff

<Sapnap>: does anyone else have anything

<Tubbo_>: handcuffs

<Dream>: just use what you ahve on you

<Dream>: .

<Dream>: tubbo-

<Sapnap>: dream i'm in a tuxedo

<Sapnap>: there is nothing in these pockets

<Sapnap>: wait nvm found a paperclip howd a paperclip get in here??

<Karl>: wha

<Karl>: whats going on?

<Dream>: backread

<Karl>: Oh

<Karl>: Oh No

<Karl>: gotta go find me some ring materials quick

<Tubbo_>: i can help

<Karl>: thx! :D

<Karl>: wait

<Karl>: why does tubbo have handcffs???

<Tubbo_>: thats for me to know and u to nevver find out

<TommyInnit>: does anyone have visual on boob boy

<TommyInnit>: Im gonna hunt him down and cut the rings out of his stomach

<Ranboo>: please do not

<Tubbo_>: we're bth outside kinoko rn

<TommyInnit>: omw

<Ranboo>: listen

<Ranboo>: the rings are mangled

<Ranboo>: I kinda chewed them up, yo uknow enderman teeth

<Ranboo>: so even if you get them out theyd be useless

<TommyInnit>: listening to your screams of agony will be worth it

<Tubbo_>: hes headed towards karls library now

<Ranboo>: TUBBO WHY

<Tubbo_>: <3

<Tubbo_>: good luck bosman

<Tubbo_>: u got this

<Ranboo>: i want a divorce

<Tubbo_>: im taking the house and the kid

<Ranboo>: I-

<Ranboo>: you cant jushjkbnnnm;l

<Tubbo_>: uh

<Dream>: I think tommy found him

<Tubbo_>: oh so thats why i hear screamintg

<Tubbo_>: does anyone kno if ranboo has life insurnace

<Dream>: I mean hes pretty rich isnt he? You can jsut take his money

<Tubbo_>: wait ur right

<GeorgeNotFound>: who the fuck is screaming outside my window

<GeorgeNotFound>: I was having a nice nap

<Dream>: GOGY

<Dream>: SNAPNAP'S WEDDING IS IN 2 HRS

<GeorgeNotFound>: WHAT

<GeorgeNotFound>: WHYD DIN'T YOU WAKE ME UP

<Dream>: I FORGOT ABT YOU I'M SORRY

<Tubbo_>: I mean thats fair sinc he sleeps through everything

<GeorgeNotFound>: i resent that

<Tubbo_>: look me in hte eye and tell me im wrong

<GeorgeNotFound>: .

<GeorgeNotFound>: anyway

<Tubbo_>: thats what I thouhgt

<GeorgeNotFound>: i found my tuxedo

<GeorgeNotFound>: where's the wedding happening again

<Dream>: Quack City

<GeorgeNotFound>: what

<Dream>: *las nevadas

<GeorgeNotFound>: oh

<GeorgeNotFound>: OH

<GeorgeNotFound>: omw

<TommyInnit>: mission accomplished

<TommyInnit>: bad news, rings are unsalavagble

<TommyInnit>: good news, tubbo is now rich

<Tubbo_>: :D

<Ranboo>: i hate it here.

103. remix, pt. 6 

"No. No. Absolutely the fuck not."

"Quackity--"

"You really expect me to believe that?" Quackity swept a hand in Dream's direction. "Have you forgotten how many fucking times this bastard has lied to us? You really think Tommy would do that?"

"It-- you didn't see how he was acting," Tubbo whispered. "You didn't talk to him on the beach. He was-- he was different."

"He was-- is your best friend," Quackity snapped. Couldn't anyone see how irrational they were being? Trusting Dream's words about Tommy, who he'd clearly had a vendetta against since the day the teenager joined the server? "You've known him for years, Tubbo--"

"People change," Fundy murmured. "Like Wilbur did."

Quackity let out a derisive laugh. "Fine. Fucking fine. So you're all just gonna take Dream's word for it, huh?"

"Tommy has his mask--"

"--he could given it to him to build his story--"

"--he's injured--"

"--could be faking--"

"--the exile site--"

"--he probably burnt it down to frame Tommy before he ran--"

"--the court document--"

"--he could have planted it!" Quackity's hands curled and uncurled, itching for his axe. "At least talk to Tommy before you believe Dream! Why the fuck are you trusting him?!"

"It's in Tommy's handwriting," Fundy supplied. When Quackity rounded on him, he raised his hands. "The enchantment on the picture, I mean. I recognized it. It's in Tommy's handwriting."

"Which Dream could have forged."

"But it makes sense--"

"So? He could still be lying." Quackity raked his hands through his hair. "Look, just-- you can't just instantly believe whatever shit Dream says, okay? You know this. We know this."

Tubbo remained silent.

"Listen," Quackity sighed. "Taking Dream's mask as leverage, making him burn his stuff, threatening George and Sapnap-- does that really sound like something Tommy would do? Seriously, in what universe would he become a manipulative fucker like-- like-- Dream? Did you forget what Dream did? He tried to make you exile Tommy for minor property damage, Tubbo. He's a fucking psychopath, and he hates Tommy. You can't trust anything he says."

"You don't have to believe me," Dream said. "Quackity's right, I could be lying."

Quackity leveled a glare at him. What manipulative bullshit was the man trying to pull now?

"W-we, um." Ranboo shrunk back as attention turned towards him. "We sh-should probably talk to Tommy? Um, a-ask him what happened?"

Tubbo breathed out, shoulders drooping. "No, he's right. You're right. Tommy wouldn't do this."

Thank fuck, Tubbo was finally seeing reason. "Exactly!"

"But we could talk to him," Fundy added. He winced when Quackity turned a withering stare on him. "Just in case! You know, g-get his take on things--"

"Sounds great," Technoblade interrupted. "Now if you're all done. . ."

The audacity of this bastard. Quackity bristled. "Now wait one fucking second--"

"I told you everything," Dream said. "I held up my end of the deal."

"You did," Tubbo agreed. "We'll leave you alone."

Quackity hesitated, glancing between Tubbo and Technoblade. "This isn't over," he snarled.

Technoblade straightened, eyes glinting. "Oh?"

The tension in the clearing skyrocketed. Tubbo sighed, grabbed Quackity's arm and pulled. Quackity yelped, breaking eye contact with Technoblade and whipping around. "Tubbo--"

"Quackity," Tubbo said. "Please."

Quackity stared at the child president, taking in the weary slope of his shoulders and the exhaustion on his face. The kid had been through an emotional rollercoaster in the last hour - he was in no shape to fight. Dream had supposedly held up his end of the deal (though Quackity was pretty sure the story he'd fed them was complete bullshit); it would be pointless to stay here. They could afford to hold off on Butcher Army activities until they talked to Tommy.

"Fine," he muttered. Tubbo visibly relaxed at his acquiescence.

Tossing one last glare at Dream and Technoblade, Quackity turned on his heel and stalked into the forest. Tubbo stumbled along beside him, and after a moment of hesitation, Fundy and Ranboo followed.

Quackity hoped they weren't making a huge mistake.

~~~

"So," Technoblade said. "Are we gonna talk about that?"

"No."

Technoblade sighed. "Dream."

"Technoblade," Dream mimicked. He turned away. "Let's go, it's getting cold out here."

He couldn't see Technoblade, but he could hear his footsteps crunching in the snow behind him. "Did Tommy really blackmail you?"

"I wouldn't say blackmail."

"He threatened to kill your friends if you didn't play along."

"They're not my friends."

Technoblade huffed. "But it worked."

Dream shrugged, the movement stiff and uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, I didn't want them to get hurt."

There was a long moment of silence. Dream kept his gaze fixed on the house in the distance, steps quickening.

Technoblade matched his pace, coming up on his left. "So how much of that story was true?"

Dream side-eyed him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity, mostly." Technoblade shrugged. "I worked with Tommy in Pogtopia. He was kinda weak. Didn't seem the type to uh, use leverage."

"People change."

"Huh," Technoblade grunted. ". . . are you okay?"

"Didn't peg you to be an emotional type."

"I'm not. Social interactions are like, my one weakness, you know this. Now stop tryin' to change the subject."

Dream snorted. "I'm fine. I got away."

"And you're not worried he'll go after them?"

"Sapnap and George can take care of themselves," Dream muttered. "I was too worked up to see it at the time, and I fell for it. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

They had reached the house now. Dream sent Technoblade a sidelong glance as the piglin hybrid yanked the door open, trying to gauge his expression.

"Good," the other said gruffly. He entered the house and made a beeline for the ladder, descending into the basement. Dream stared after him, bewildered.

Even after five hundred loops, he still couldn't understand Technoblade sometimes.

104.

Dream stared at Tommy.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare."

"Pffft--"

"Dream--"

Dream burst into wheezing laughter, doubling over and clutching at his chest as his lungs attempted to expel every ounce of air. "Ch- chickeninnit!" he howled, slapping a hand on his leg. "You-- chickeninnit!"

Tommy snarled and attempted to whack him with his newly formed wing, only to miss and sweep two beakers and a potion stand off the table. "Stop laughing!"

"Chicken-- " Dream choked out, trying to inhale. "How did you even--"

"I will murder you--"

"You can't even hold a weapon because your arms turned into wings--!" Dream collapsed again, laughing hysterically. Tommy glared down at him, then drove his sneaker-clad foot into his ribs. Dream's laughter gained a distinctly pained edge.

"I still have legs, bitch."

Dream went silent for a moment. And then he just started laughing again, even harder than before.

"Just-- imagine--" he wheezed, "if-- if the potion turned your legs into-- chicken legs instead--"

"These aren't even chicken wings!" Tommy shrieked, once again trying to whack Dream with his wings. He was marginally more successful, thought the blow had no force behind it and he ended up knocking several feathers askew. "They're from a very respectable hawk, you bastard!"

"Chickeninnit," Dream gasped, weakly pounding on the floor. "It's such a perfect nickname--"

Tommy felt perfectly justified in stomping on his stomach.

105.

The obsidian walls around him were swaying, fading in and out of focus. He braced himself for the vertigo.

It hit him like a minecart, hurling him from his body. His senses fled. For a brief moment, he felt like he was floating, suspended in nothingness. And then something yanked, and he jerked backward and around, and then he was slamming back into his own body. Only now, he was somewhere different. Somewhen different.

Loop 118.

The first thing that hit him was the heat. It was worse than a summer heatwave, an oppressive, smothering dryness that could only mean the presence of lava. The second thing were the sounds-- ghasts screeching in the distance, the grunts of pigmen, and someone's rasping breaths.

Dream opened his eyes. He was standing on the netherrack bridge, one hand clamped on Tommy's shoulder as they stared into the lava below. Something was humming to his right, and Dream knew that if he turned, he'd see a portal. Which meant this was--

("It's not your time to die, Tommy.")

Dream jerked back like he'd been burned, stumbling a good distance away and raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. In the same moment, Tommy threw him off and whipped around, mouth half-open in a snarl. His gaze landed on Dream, and he took a step back - right over the edge.

For a moment, Tommy teetered, one arm outstretched. Dream lunged forward, reaching for it. His fingers grazed Tommy's--

--and closed around empty air.

Tommy screamed. Dream screamed with him, unthinkingly ripping a fire resistance potion from his inventory and hurling it down at Tommy. It hit the boy in the chest and didn't break, because it wasn't a splash potion why didn't he throw a splash-- and Tommy was in the lava, and oh Prime--

Tommy stopped screaming.

Dream sank to his knees, staring at the lava even as he tried to process the events of the past five seconds. They'd woken up in the Nether. Tommy had fallen into lava. Tommy was dead.

He took a deep breath, curling his trembling hands into fists. Everything was okay. Any moment now, the loop would restart. It always did when one of them died. The loop would restart, and Tommy would be fine. He just had to wait a bit longer.

A minute ticked by. Then two. Dream remained kneeling on the netherrack. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His eyes were watering. He hadn't blinked in a while.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. And the loop did not restart.

Someone was giggling, quiet and half-mad. Slowly, Dream sat back, legs tingling with pins and needles. He raised his gaze to the roof of the Nether, his vision wavy with heat haze and tears. The giggling had dissolved rapid, harsh breathing.

Why wasn't the loop restarting? Was this the last one? A timeline where Tommy had died in exile?

No. He refused. This wasn't happening. Tommy wasn't dead, Tommy couldn't be dead permanently because Dream still needed to fix things. The loop was going to restart, it was going to be fine. If it didn't, he could just-- fuck, no, he couldn't even bring Tommy back because his body was irretrievable and time hadn't restarted yet why wasn't it--?!

~~~

"What the fuck."

"Tommy?" Dream muttered.

"I. . ." there was an uneasy pause. "I think so? I-- fuck, I don't even know what--"

He cut himself off with a noise of frustration. Dream slowly peeled his eyes open, squinting at the Nether roof.

"Did. . . time reset?" he croaked. "It wasn't-- It didn't-- nothing happened after you died."

Tommy leaned over him, face set in an unimpressed stare. His hair appeared to be dripping with lava, ectoplasmic droplets landing on netherrack and evaporating with a slight sizzling noise.

He was also slightly see-through. Dream blinked. "You're a ghost."

"No shit," Tommy deadpanned. He shuffled back, clearly uncomfortable. "I. . . think I have all my memories. I remember the loops."

"Are you. . . still Tommy?"

"I'm-- yeah. Not like-- not like Ghostbur." He frowned. "Maybe. It's-- maybe I forgot stuff, and forgot that I forgot. Fuck, that's messed up."

"I can bring you back. If you'll let me," he added when Tommy stiffened. "If you want me to leave you alone, I'll leave."

"I. . . no, bring me back." Tommy's eyes narrowed. "I don't know why the loop hasn't restarted yet, but-- I can't-- I can't stay dead. If I did split from some other Tommy who's trapped in Limbo, he needs to get out."

"Okay. Yeah. I'll just." Dream winced. "I need to be touching you to bring you back."

Tommy scowled and reluctantly held out a hand. Dream gingerly took it, fighting back the urge to recoil at the unnatural heat emanating from the ghost's skin. He closed his eyes and focused.

Instinctive panic rose up and he ruthlessly shoved it down. Quackity wasn't here. Quackity wasn't going to hurt him. He was going to revive Tommy. Quackity wouldn't see the process. Everything was going to be okay.

Gritting his teeth, Dream began to chant. Heavy syllables fell from his mouth, shaky but growing steadily stronger. His eyes snapped open, glowing, as the words came faster, his voice rising. Strings, visible only to him, materialized. Tommy shivered as they wrapped around his ghostly body and rubbed his neck, presumably in an attempt to remove the string he could feel wrapped around it. His fingers passed right through.

Reaching the end of his chant, Dream grabbed a fistful of the strings and pulled. Tommy dissolved, wisps of ectoplasm whisking away to presumably rejoin its body. Dream let out a shaky breath, rubbing his right hand.

Tommy would be respawning in Logstedshire. He should get up and check to make sure that the revival worked properly.

. . . and he would. In a few minutes. Once the unpleasant roil of emotions behind his ribs calmed a bit.

Dream laid his forehead against his knees and tried not to think about the implications of what had just happened.

~~~

Tommy was fine. This was fine. He was just. Confused.

So loops didn't just end when they died. Tommy had always assumed that the loops where he didn't die ended because Dream kicked the bucket, but apparently that wasn't the case.

When he'd died, he hadn't gone to Limbo. Oh, he'd definitely been on the way there - he had a vague recollection of hurtling into inky darkness, only for golden strings to wrap around him and yank him back. Everything had gone black, then white, and then he was rising from the lava.

Tommy took a shaky breath, mind whirling. He only had one set of memories. There was no distinction whatsoever between himself and his ghost. Was it possible that the loops were interfering with the death process? Maybe it had kept him from going to Limbo, kept his soul whole instead of splitting it between Limbo and a ghost. But in that case, why did Ghostbur still appear in the loops? Did the get-out-of-Limbo-free card only apply to loopers?

Too many questions and not enough answers. One thing was certain, though: there were no more repercussions to dying.

He. . . wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Tommy swung his legs over the edge of the bed, only to pause when white flashed in his vision. Reaching up, he picked the lock of hair out of his eyes. His lips pulled back into a sneer and he tucked it away, brushing blonde strands over it.

Okay, so there were some repercussions to dying. Mental note to self: find scissors ASAP.

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the dull ache that flooded his body. Respawning from complete vaporization was a shit experience, but after a hundred-odd loops, it just didn't hurt as bad as it used to. Plus, he needed to leave before Dream got there. The bastard could claim he'd changed, but if he started asking questions like he had after the first revival--

("So, what was it like?")

Tommy shoved the memories into a chest, locked it with a key, and tossed both into the deepest, darkest recesses of his skull. Dream could come through the portal any second now, and he needed to be gone by then.

Mind made up, he turned inland and began the long trek to Technoblade's home.

Loop Notes
101. Alone, they are menaces. Together, they are unstoppable menaces.
102. The ceremony went off without a hitch. Each newlywed proudly sported their rings, made of fishing line, mangled paperclips, and flowers. Tubbo was disappointed that Karl turned down his handcuffs suggestion, but he admitted that the flower rings looked pretty nice.
104. Tommy hasn't quite mastered hybrid potions yet. . .