(Trigger Warning: death, revival, derealization, suicidal thoughts/attempts, illness/getting sick, trauma, abuse, abandonment, medical conditions.)

     Walking out of the dark and looming prison, Tommy squinted his sensitive eyes at the setting sun.

     "How do you like being free from the cell?" Sam asked from behind him. Tommy tried to hide his flinch but was unsuccessful.

     "Honestly, it's not any different. I can't decide whether I like being dead or alive anymore." He shrugged and kept his eyes to the ground. Tommy shook his head when the floor turned into void and obsidan back to dirt.

     "I'm sorry, Tommy. You shouldn't have died-" Tommy interrupted with a dark laugh.

     "Like I said, it made no difference. It's torture to be in both places. I wish there was a true end instead of being in pain constantly." Sam was silent besides Tommy. The teen looked over but was having trouble reading what the Warden was thinking about. The mask was hiding any of his facial expressions but Tommy could tell by his posture that he was feeling guilt.

     "That is no excuse. I signed a contract to keep you alive and what did I do? I let you go inside with your past abuser and didn't let you out even as you screamed your lungs out! I can't sleep without hearing your screaming for me to save you and it's all my fault!" Tommy wanted to run from the yelling but was frozen in place. Dream would have been harsher if he did. Sam seemed to notice Tommy's tense body language and he became rigid himself. "I'm so sorry, Tommy. I shouldn't have yelled, I was just angry at myself-"

     "It's fine, Sam." The teen muttered below his breath as he became less tense. "I think I just need to sleep-"

     "You can sleep over at my place." Sam said more than questioned. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek. He could taste iron in his mouth.

     "Sorry but I really can't sleep in soft beds anymore." Tommy had gotten so used to sleeping in hammocks, hard mattresses, the floor, and a pile of blankets that he felt weird sleeping anywhere else. For years his back was probably being ruined by the rough material but it felt a lot more comfortable than something that was surely suffocate him if he sunk down too far in pillows.

     "I can bring in a harder mattress if you want. It really won't be a problem for me to do so." Tommy almost wanted to scoff at how hard Sam was trying to please him. Then again, a small voice that oddly sounded like his late brother in his head told him it was all out of pity, not to forge their relationship.

     "It's fine, I really need to check if Connor stole my home again." Tommy explained as Sam warily nodded his head.

     "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow?" Tommy just nodded his head wandering off.

---

     To be honest, Tommy was surprised when it happened.

     He had been telling Connor that he was, in fact, alive and there to take his house back but a sudden wave of nausea slammed into him like a wave. Before he knew it, Tommy was on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to keep the bile down. Connor was panicked as he was on his communicator with someone.

     "-the next moment he just collapses! Please come over and help!" Connor had said before putting it away. "Hey, Tommy. Are you feeling a little better?" The teen shook his head and pointed to a bucket. Connor instantly grabbed it and handed it over as the bile decided it wanted to be emptied.

     Tommy had the bucket on the floor, and he was on his knees with it in between his legs. His head was pushed into the bucket with each heave and tears rolled down his cheeks. Connor was behind him, rubbing his back and helping to keep his longer hair out of his face. Tommy's arms were shaking at having to hold him up in order to not faceplant into what was his last meal. He didn't look up when the door opened and another voice was there to also help. His hair was pulled back with a hair band and a water bottle was placed on the floor next to him.

     After what felt like dreadful hours, Tommy finally started to feel better. He sat back from the bucket and felt a cloth being wiped against his lips to clean up any left over waste. The bucket was taken and Tommy was handed the water bottle to try and hydrate his parched throat.

     "-man that was a long time. I hope he starts to feel a bit better after letting that out of his system." Connor was still by Tommy's side and rubbing his back in circles.

     "I hope so. It could be that he is still adjusting after dying. We should get him to bed." Tommy could hear a familiar motherly voice close by. His suspicions were right when Puffy walked in with a now clean bucket.

     "Still, I think he should be taken to a doctor outside of the server. There was so much blood as well." Connor had helped Tommy up and was helping him stumble into the back room.

     "Yeah, that isn't normal. Hopefully some rest will do him well but I am definitely going to see if I can take him to one."

     Tommy was vaguely aware of Puffy taking off his shoes and socks while Connor dug through his clothes. He pulled out a pair of short and a shirt of Tommy's before walking back to the bed. If Tommy had been present in his mind, he probably wouldn't have complained since this was the gentlest people had been with him for awhile.

     "Arm up, Tommy." Connor instructed as the teen listened and allowed the older to take off his shirt. It was quickly replaced by the other shirt and before Tommy knew it, his shorts were on as well and the pants he wore were in a pile. Puffy had left during that time but re-entered with a chair.

     "I'm going to stay with him if he needs anything during the night." Puffy explained softly. Tommy could feel his eyes start to get heavy. He could hear laughter from the two other people in the room.

     "Alright, Tommy. Let's get you comfortable." Connor shifted Tommy so he was laying on his side with the sheets and blanket covering him. They were tucked in close and Tommy could feel a hand run through his hair.

     "Why did you stay here when I came?" Puffy asked Connor. Tommy could feel the hand still before continuing again.

     "I feel bad for him. He is only sixteen and has to deal with so much. I only really 'take' his house because I want to make sure it is taken care of while he is away. To see him so sick just now really emphasized the point. He could use another person on his side, even just to hold his hair out of his face." Connor explained quietly. "I better get home now, I don't want to over crowd the place."

     "Thank you, Connor. Have a good night and travel safe." Tommy could feel the hand leave his hair and heard the door close. He almost whined at the lack of touch but was still too tired. "Hey, Tommy?" The teen opened an eye to see Puffy's caring face. "If there is anything you need, I will be right here all night. The bucket is here just in case you need it again. Do you need anything right now?" Tommy closed his eye again and shook his head slowly. He felt guilty for wasting her time. "Alright then. Goodnight, Tommy."

---

     Months and numerous doctor visits later, Tommy had gotten worse.

     People said it was just a side effect of being revived but it almost felt like he was dying everyday. Of course Tommy hid most of the very concerning details and decided he could handle it on his own.

     There always seemed to be a chill around him. His skin was very pale from slow blood flow and the tips of his ears, nose and fingers were tinted a blue. No matter how many blankets or layers he was in, his skin was freezing to the touch.

     Tommy's immune system was failing. Every little sickness he came in contact to latched onto him. He would be able to get rid of it for weeks and it always made him so tired and weak. Doctors said that potentially a harmless sickness could be fatal.

     Randomly, parts of his body would decide they didn't want to work. He could be walking and then be sprawled out on the floor the next minute because his knee decided to lock up. Sometimes he would have to remember how to breathe because his lungs felt constricted.

     His stomach decided it hated him. Most foods would decide they didn't want to be digested so he would have to get rid of them. His eating problems may have been a mix of being resurrected and the fact he was already malnourished already. Being in exile, he had only been able to eat a bite a day and then in the prison there was less since Dream's portion was cut down by Sam anyways for misbehaving and killing him. Sam had no clue Tommy was inside as well so only Dream's half of a potato portion had to be shared between the two.

     Those might had been concerning but it wasn't the worst.

     Tommy had a seizure the first night when Puffy was over. After that, it was pretty smooth sailing other than a few hiccups like almost dying in the middle of the night once. Puffy had been already worried enough when she was told that Tommy stopped breathing for a solid two and a half minutes, she had freaked out.

     It was a surprise Tommy made it through that night. He had been just getting better from a bad cold when that happened. Sam had been there that night. He was in a chair next to the bed, dozing off as well when he noticed how quiet the teen had been. Sam had stopped hearing the soft snoring and looking at Tommy, he could also see no movement indicatimg he was breathing. Sam had instantly gotten up and tried to listen for any breathing but didn't hear it. He began CPR immediately and prayed Tommy would wake up.

     The teen had snapped awake, takjng deep and shuddering breaths while coughing. Sam had explained what happened while tears rolled down his relieved face.

      It didn't stop there.

     Tommy began to choke again. His face was becoming blue with suffocation and Sam was getting back into action. "Please don't save me." Tommy hoped he had pleaded and when Sam's face became more panicked, he knew the sentence came out correctly.

     Sure, the realm of the dead was awful but it didn't hurt him as much at the living world did.

     Living with the pain of revival, knowing what was left after his life were to end and the bridges of relationships that were burnt down was painful. He was reminded every day of how awful his life had become. Nobody trusted him, they all felt he had betrayed them and there really wasn't a point in staying.

     Yet he continued to smile and act like everything was alright.

---

     "You have to be taking better care of yourself, Tommy!" Sam scolded him for the third time that week. It was only monday.

     "I have been! I carry the bag around with me everywhere and use anything I can to try and keep myself healthy." Tommy patted the bag that was right next to his bed. He had caught another cold but it had been kicking him into the ground.

     Sam had felt so guilty that he made and restocked a bag of anything that was relatively going to keep Tommy healthy. Water bottles, snacks, sanitizing wipes and sprays, first aid kits, and anything else that Sam read about being good for people with bad immune systems. There was a whole cabinet that Sam stocked weekly with more supplies. Boxes of masks and gloves lay untouched at the bottom though since Tommy didn't want to look so sick that he wasn't allowed contact with a single germ. If he had to sanitize doorknobs or stay away from people, he thought it would be better. He thought the 'Tommy Bag' had been stupid but carried it regardless.

     "Alright but maybe you could just try and wear the masks and gloves?" Sam suggested as Tommy groaned before going into a coughing fit.

     "I don't need one, big man. I'm not going to die from a little air." Tommy regretted that statement when he looked over at the hybrid who had a guilty and upset look on his face.

     Tommy started wearing the mask that week.

---

     People has begun to claim that Tommy was faking everything.

     It was all for attention, one person would say. He always has to be the center of the room, another would reply.

     It hurt when his family would say that too.

     The first time he had saw them since he had died and gotten revived, he had been taking a walk. He didn't want to but Puffy forced him up at least once a day to just go and do something.

     That's when he passed by them.

     "Oh, Tommy!" Ghostbur had excitedly greeted. He was carrying a woven basket with blue Forget Me Nots. It brought back memories of the times he gathered flowers with Tubbo.

     "These are Lilacs." Tubbo picked one and held it to Tommy. The boy tilted his head to the side.

     "What does it mean in the flower language?" Tubbo laughed and passed it to Tommy so he could examine it closer.

     "It means joy of youth. I hope we get to have this one forever." Tommy nodded his head in agreement, gathering as many as he could into his basket. He was going to have Wilbur put them in a vase.

     The flowers wilted the next day in the van right as the first attack that Dream orchestrated commenced.

     "How are you doing today?" Ghostbur asked when Tommy didn't greet them back.

     "I'm doing swell, how are you?"

     "I am doing good! I picked some of these blue flowers in the field where we went on tour!" Tommy's blood ran cold as he looked at them.

     "Did you know they are Forget Me Nots?" Tommy asked but his own voice felt a million blocks away.

     "Oh really?" Tommy just nodded his head. "Well maybe it is a sign to get my memories back!" Ghostbur cheered.

     Tommy just stayed quiet as he was handed one of them.

     He knew it was a sign that he couldn't forget anything bad that had ever happened to him. The ruins and remains of Logstedshire with blooming flowers made it obvious. Forget Me Nots: do not forget me. It felt as if he were choking on his own breath yet again. Dream must have used whatever magic he used to plant them there.

     "Come on, Ghostbur." Tommy could see Phil step closer to the ghost. "We have some things to do around the server and we can't waste time here." Ghostbur just cheerily nodded his head.

     "Hey, Phil and Techno." Tommy greeted the two others. He could see the way Phil stiffened and Techno just glared. "What are you guys doing today?" Tommy asked, trying to make friendly conversation with what was once his family.

     "Things that a traitor doesn't need to know about," Techno huffed and Tommy could feel himself getting smaller in the warrior's presence.

     Tommy's dad- no, it is Phil- just stared. He didn't stop the one sided bickering and Tommy couldn't help but feel the hurt well up in him.

     "How has it been since you respawned?" Tommy didn't miss the bitter tone in Phil's voice as he asked.

     "Good." Tommy just muttered under his breath.

     "Then why does it look like you are dying all over again?"

     Tommy just bit his lip from underneath the mask he wore. It was obvious he looked practically like a dead man walking. His arms were a dead weight under the layers of clothing he wore. He knew his face was pale besides the dark crescents underneath his eyes. Sometimes his speech slurred or cracked when he talked.

     "Side effect of revival I guess." Tommy shrugged like he was indifferent to the situation. Phil just had his lips pursed in thought and Techno looked bored out of his mind. Ghostbur looked concerned before it washed away and was replaced back with happiness. Tommy guessed that his memory got wiped again.

     "Oh, Tommy! How have you been?" The ghost asked again.

     "I'm doing good, Ghostbur." Tommy had to constantly remind himself this wasn't his caring brother that would sing him songs everytime he had a nightmare or the man that replaced him with cold eyes who would yell and hit him for every mistake. This was just an amnesiac ghost that cared but was still a shell of his former self.

     "That's good- oh wait, you have a flower already." Ghostbur sort of frowned as he looked at the basket still in his translucent hands. "We already had this conversation, didn't we?"

     "Yeah, but it's alright, Ghostbur." Tommy reassured the ghost carefully. He may have a rude persona but he was both too tired and didn't want to hurt his brother's shell. He could see the confusion on Phil and Techno's faces from the corner of his eye. "I don't mind having conversations with you." The ghost smiled and handed Tommy another Forget Me Not to add to his increasing collection.

     "Well that is good because I like talking to you too!" Ghostbur used his hand to cup the side of Tommy's face but of course it didn't matter since he didn't have a physical form.

     "Oh, ghosts don't spread germs, do they?" Tommy asked as the ghost nodded his head.

     "Nope! No germs!" He held his hands out as if to show that they were clean.

     "Why are you asking Ghostbur about some germs, mate?" Phil asked as Tommy rolled his eyes and unconsciously grabbed on tighter to the messager bag of supplies.

     "I just want to stay healthy from old men like you." Tommy retorted back with a grumble.

     "Is that why you are wearing a stupid mask?"

     "Sam made me wear it cuz getting sick with a fucked up immune system could make me die or whatever." The teen blurted out before he could stop himself.

     "You get sick easily?" Phil asked and Tommy sighed.

     "What's up with all of you asking me questions today?" Techno pinched the bridge of his nose with a huff and turned around.

     "Let's leave since Tommy is obviously busy right now trying to look like a little sick boy to get pity points. Don't want to get too close or he might betray us again." Techno walked away and Phil shrugged before following. Ghostbur's face shifted for a second before becoming warm. He took another flower and put it behind Tommy's ear.

     "I hope you get better soon. I will try to come and hang out more, alright?"

     Tommy just shakely nodded his head and watched as the ghost chased after the crumbling family.

---

     Overhearing Tubbo was rough for Tommy.

     He already knew their friendship was on fire and he didn't want to fix it so he won't burn his hand. He already had nightmares every night about Tubbo looking him in the eyes and exiling him. It almost hurt as much as his older brother dying to the hands of their father.

     "It's not like I can do anything about it. Tommy is just so obnoxiously different than he was when we had first met. He always tries to pin the blame on everyone else for his problems when it is obviously his fault. It's his fault he burned down George's house, and it was his fault he walked into the prison that day."

     No, Tommy thinks their friendship wasn't on fire.

     TNT was raining down on it and blowing it up in his face pathetically. He could do nothing about it since Tubbo was the one above, laughing like Techno had when L'manburg was finally gone. Tommy's netherite armor, his ego and ability to make friends was already blown up. There wasn't any shield or protection to hide behind like he might have before.

     At least in exile Tommy had Ghostbur and Dream as company.

     It's sad, really, how Tommy wanted to go back to exile just so he could blissfully pretend like he was cared for but the shell of his brother and abuser. At least then he he would already know that his friendships were ruined and out of his control like this one felt at the moment. He could have tried to mend it with Tubbo but him becoming so ill had left him completely alone for days in his house, trying to not die constantly. Puffy said he would have to work on himself first before working on his relationships.

     Why wasn't it working then?

     Tommy had been taking very well care for himself by staying hydrated, taking walks and staying away from germs by cleaning. He had become more responsible for things like getting himself food or materials (he tried to put away the thoughts that he was only being more responsible because of the guilt for being too much effort for anyone) even though it was no easy task. His weak arms made it hard to pick up an axe or pickaxe to collect stone or wood and it didn't help that caves made him feel more cold.

     Tommy decided that he didn't need to be hurt by trusting another person, after all, his body was doing most of the work for him.

---

     It had been a particularly cold day.

     At least, that's what Tommy though although everyday felt chilly. He pulled the heavy blanket over his shoulders with a yawn. The layers of clothing weighed him down but at least he didn't have to feel so cold the whole time.

     He walked out of his bedroom, using one of his hands that wasn't gripped onto the thick piece of fabric to rub his heavy eyes that wanted to close against his better judgement. Tommy heard some voices shouting outside so he carefully made his way to the enderchest he had locked away from view (no, it wasn't because he was paranoid that Dream was going to destroy it if he found out,) to take out an axe. It glimmered in the light as he abandoned the blanket and walked to the door to peer outside.

     Instead of seeing anyone, it was completely deserted.

     Tommy lowered his sword slightly, thinking that if it were an ambush then he could pretend to look inexperienced while he looked for who was there. It would create confusion and he could catch them by surprise.

     He didn't need to use his tactic to find the commotion though.

     Tommy could see a crown gathering at the front of his hotel (well, he left it to Jack Manifold after becoming too ill to care for it,) with almost everyone who was on the server being there. He could tell he wasn't meant to hear the conversation because it was about him.

     "We need to try our best and get him to open up and then maybe it will make him feel less sick." Puffy was saying but the crowd looked either bored or angry.

     "Why should we? He destroys everything he touches! We would be better off without him!" Niki shouted as people cheered along side her. Tommy could feel his heart drop at her genuine tone.

     The scent of the pie wafted into the air, Niki calling for everyone to filter into the caravan to get a slice for themselves. Tommy never liked pie but he did love hers. It tasted of everything good that happens after a long- but rewarding- day. Niki served him up a slice with a smile handing him a napkin with a note on it. She always wrote one personalized for anyone who came to get some of her baked goods. A small doodle in the corner was of a flower and a joke was written in neat letters.

     Tommy always found it a bit sad when she never got one for herself.

     He had an idea and started it that night. Tommy would collect all of the napkins with notes she had ever given him and used sticks with small strings to tie them into paper flowers. He then wrote a note on another blank napkin before putting it away to go to sleep.

     The next morning, Tommy asked to serve everyone their breakfast and Niki let him. When he gave her the same plate as everyone else had, he also gave her the flowers and note but immediately went back to serving.

     If Niki walked up to him that night with a picture of just the two of them- brother and sister in everything but blood- with a note scribbled on the back that he cherished for years, nobody had to know.

     Tommy could feel the tears welling in his eyes.

     He had messed up really bad but he didn't know how to fix it or what exactly he did for everyone. Nobody taught him how to behave or say sorry. That was the role that his father was meant to take but instead it got shoved onto his brother whose ego was the size of the Nether. His brother was always right no matter what so that's how Tommy acted in return.

     If Tommy looked over the crowd, he could even see Techno and Phil nodding their heads in agreement with everything Niki was saying.

     "Maybe if Wil and I had a dad and older brother than we could have actually done something good with our lives!" Tommy shouted as the tears rolled down his face. The two older family members just laughed.

     "You are such an ignorant child, Tommy." Phil managed to get out between each chuckle. "I have done more for you than you can ever know, I have created a place for us to live in peace and harmony yet the second the door is wide open, you follow your brother like a lost puppy. You don't get to say that when your life is so perfect but you threw it away."

     Tommy took a shakey breath before running back towards his home in the dirt mound. When he tried to turn into the door, he realized too late that he was going too fast and slid into some mud.

     Looking up, he realized the sky was beautiful. 

     Even just for a second, he was seeing the good in life. The bright, blue sky reflected off of his dull, almost gray, eyes. Tears pricked at the corners, threatening to fall with each rapid blink. But as he looked on, the sky became more dark and gloomy. It seemed as if it wanted to hurt him just like everyone he has ever known did.

     A shadow loomed just above his face, Sam standing over top of him.

     "How long have you been laying here?" The hybrid asked the teen who shrugged. He sat up, joints popping and crackling as he did so. Tommy could distantly see a few stars in what once the morning sky.

     "Hours," he replied with a slight sneer in his voice. He limped inside- seemingly hurting his leg earlier when he slipped- before making his way to his room. Sam made a noise in the back of his throat, one that Tommy recognized as chastising that everyone seemed to point at him, to make the teen turn around.

     "You have to get cleaned up before you go to bed. You have mud everywhere." Tommy could hear the strain in his voice. It sounded like Sam had been crying before he came to Tommy.

     "Alright, I guess I can." He muttered before going to grab some clothes towards the bathroom. He shut the door with a click, locking it tight although he knew that Sam wouldn't come in.

     First, Tommy pulled off his shirt, feeling the dried mud peeling off of his skin. Turning it so he could see, the backside of his once red hoodie was now a marroon color, darkened by the brown of the mud. Tommy the proceeded to take off the rest of his layers, laying them out on the other side of the bathroom. Next, he took off his pants and threw them next to the hoodie. Groaning, he pulled off the extra layer underneath but almost fell face first into the floor. He turned the tap of the shower on and ran it, waiting for it to get hot when he heard a door open and close and another voice filter through the thin walls.

     Apparently the people talking didn't know that though.

     "Ranboo seems like literally the only person to want to help Tommy out. Others want to stay neutral like Eret and Foolish but then there are the people who think he should just deal with this on his own." A voice, that suspiciously sounded like Puffy, informed Sam.

     "Well, what are the votes then?"

     "They just think we have to let him be, not even interact so Tommy could find out how to live on his own." Tommy could feel what was left of his hope and heart drop to the pits of his stomach. It felt nauseating as he leant on the wall, trying to keep upright. He could feel the water from the overflowing tub touching the tips of his toes.

     "We can't just do that! He is defenseless at the moment, heck, I just saw him laying on the ground, telling me he had been there for hours!" Tommy flinched and came back to his senses. Looking around, he grabbed a shirt, some pants and anything needed before tugging them on. He left his shoes and socks behind as he dug through the wall with raw fingertips.

     Stepping out onto the Prime Path and seeing how depressing the SMP looked put an edge to his spiraling mood.

     Lights were off, the red vines were still making their way around to corrupt the whole server, everything was just off. Tommy could hear Sam and Puffy still talking inside of his house so he ran.

     He ran until he made it to the Nether Portal, not stopping when he arrived in the destination. The bottoms of his feet felt sore as he pushed against the hard material of the bridges. Tommy got to the edge, not stopping, and barreling past.

     Looking down, he could see a plank tower with water already rotting the wood. The green grass was coming closer and closer as he fell. He could almost see a smile from behind a tree that would rip away everything he accomplished everyday.

     Looking up towards the sky, he could see the lightning bolt coming down on him. TNT raining around him as his vision became bright.

     Looking straight foreward, he could see the arrow coming towards his chest. Dream was holding a bow and all his L'manburgian friends were watching anxiously.

     Looking left, he could see Eret, laughing at the looks on their faces. Watching as each one of his brothers died for the first time in front of him.

     Looking right, he could Wilbur being stabbed by their father. The laugh crescendoing in his throat as blood pooled out. Techno yelling and sending Withers into the storms of TNT.

     Looking behind him, Tommy saw himself.

     He saw himself looking into a mirror, crying with bruises and bloodstains all over him. Hands were gripping his throat- Dream's hands were gripping his throat. He was in the prison, remembering every painful memory in his life. Every time he was abandoned by family that pledged to be by his side, everytime he died and almost died a painful death. Everything Tommy had ever done in his life was being reflected from his cold and dead eyes.

     Tommy remembered a line that Wilbur once sang.

     "Will they tell your story?"

     Yes, he replied in his mind, they will tell my story, but not how I want it to be.

     Looking up at the vanishing ledge of the Nether bridge, regret filled his throat. A scream left his mouth. He was running out of time and he was never going to get his happily ever after. His story would be tainted. History is written by the victors, Techno once told Tommy.

     Tommy wasn't the victor.

     He was the loser.

     He wanted to be alive, god, just please let him live, he still has so much to do, so much to see-

     Lava pooled over him.

Words: 5509
Written: Friday, May 7th, 2021, 12:01 pm
Edited:
First Published: Friday, May 7th, 2021, 2:11 pm