How the world works

23

Tommy is absolutely great. He ate good food and woke up in a comfortable bed. He stretched and yawned. He could leave right now and be fine. In fact, that's exactly what he decides to do.

The path outside will probably lead somewhere. If not, oh well. As long as he takes shelter every night, he'll be absolutely fine. Eventually, he'll find someone. He empties the chest into his pockets and takes the bed too. Then he starts breaking down the door. Could he take the window? Sure. But he's two stories up and the grounds uneven. It would be just his luck to break his leg or something on the landing. That, well, that he can't fix. 

He breaks through the heavy door just to see Dream on the other side. 

"I- uh. I had to piss." Tommy lies very poorly. 

"You. Me. Fishing." Dream doesn't even acknowledge his poor attempt to escape. He hands him a beat up fishing rod and they walk outside and down the path. Tommy has to go in front this time, his nerves on edge with every step. Dream could stab him through any second. But he doesn't. 

Eventually the path leads to the edge of a lake. It continues but they stop and sit at th3 edge of the water. It's quiet as they fish. They catch tons of fish and an assortment of trinkets as well. Tommy has a hard time focusing. Why is Dream doing this? He takes a deep breath. 

"Dream, I want to go home." He says. Dream looks over slowly. 

"Ok." He says. Tommy is absolutely bamboozled. 

"What? "He asks. Dream nods.

"Sure. I'll take you home. But where exactly is your home?" Dream asks. Tommy opens his mouth but closes it. L'manburg? Destroyed. Pogtopia? Deserted. Technos house? He's no longer welcome there. His shack under the hill? Sure, but that's hardly a home. But it's better than here.

"My house,  under the hill. It's always been my home." Tommy says firmly. Dream laughs softly, growing to a loud kettle wheeze. 

"I burnt that down, Tommy." He finally catches his breath. The realization sinks in.

"Then I'll go live with Tubbo." He decides. Dream shakes his head again.

"After what he saw? Do you really want to live,  knowing he doesn't see you, every day? He would only see a broken boy." Dream retorts, casting his line again. 

"And who's fault is that, Dream? I didn't do that to myself." Tommy stands up angrily. Dream turns slowly. 

"Didn't you? And if it weren't for you,  he never would have been there. You aren't special, Tommy. You never were. You got equal treatment to everyone else, you were just difficult." Dream scoffs. Tommy sits back down. Was it his fault? Maybe he- no. Techno and Phil had spent a full week explaining gaslighting to him for this exact reason. 

"I'm not at fault for what you did to us, Dream. If you don't take me back, I will-" He's cut off by Dream who swiftly stood up and grabbed the younger of the two by the throat.

"They think they killed you. And they will be celebrating in the streets. I'm the only friend you have. If you go back everyone will be miserable because of you all over again." Dream practically growls. His eyes are bright as if a fire lays beneath them.

"You know, you're becoming predictable,  Dream." Tommy squeaks out, his face turning reddish purple. Dream let's go, frustrated. 

"If you want to leave, go ahead. I don't care anymore. But the monsters around here are dangerous. You wont make it even a week. And you'll never make it back to civilization. '' Dream says. Tommy's rash and can sometimes act stupidly. But he's not an idiot. He would never actually go.

"Fine. Goodbye Dream." Says Tommy and he stands up to Dreams surprise. 

"Tommy, wait." Says Dream. Tommy turns to look at him.

"I want my fish." Says Dream. Tommy angrily dumps all the fish he had caught as well as any items he had found while fishing next to Dream. With nothing to stop him, he coolly walks back down the path towards the mansion. He can feel Dreams eyes  on his back and can practically see an arrow pointed his way or a million other deaths. But he walks on. After what seems like eternity, Dream is out of render distance. Tommy glances over his shoulder and then runs. He's weak and growing hungry. But he runs.

He arrives at the mansion and runs upstairs to where his sorta room was. He picks up everything he had grabbed to run away with. Then an idea forms. Who knows what else is here, there might be a compass to home, or anything else besides wilderness. He begins tearing apart other rooms. He doesn't find anything of real interest. 

Some pictures, beds, flowers and mushrooms, more food, tapestries, coal, an iron helmet. He takes anything that might be useful but nothing is there to signal towards civilization. Now he has two options. Run through the bamboo where they had come from or risk passing Dream down the path. The path feels safer if it weren't for the unstable psychopath halfway down it. He decides he'll hide just outside the mansion until he sees Dream go in, then leave on his own.

He rounds the corner of the hallway and lets out a loud, breathy sound of pain. Because as he rounded the corner, an arrow lodged in his chest.

"I won't let you hurt anyone else. " says the shooter. As Tommy falls forward, holding the poison tipped arrow shaft but not quite wanting to pull it out, the shooter steps forward. 

"Wait, Tommy?" George utters, horror dripping from his voice. 

"No! This can't happen!" George cries out as he rushes to Tommy's side.

"No no no... what have I done?" George sobs as Tommy's fingers begin to shed small purple petals. Allium petals.

"George?" Dream asks from the doorway. He takes in the scene. Tommy, dying. George's bow. The arrow.

"What did he do?" Dream asks. He never pegged George as a killer. Then the pieces fall together a little too well.

"That arrow was for me,  wasn't it?" He asks softly. George just looks away, sobs racking his body.

Anger. Hatred. Fury. None of them truly describe what he feels. His own best friend tried to kill him! Dream thinks of parting George's head from his shoulders but instead he drops everything and runs, his blood alive with emotion. Emotion. How rare that is for him now. And when he does feel it, it's only anger and fear. He just wants to be happy once more. But he feared he never will. And that begins his cycle of abhorrence all over again.

Back in the mansion, Tommy is withering away.

"Tommy, Tommy I'm sorry." George cries he knows this is Tommy's final life. This is it.

"Stop, I need you to tell everyone something." Tommy chokes on his own blood. The flowers have stopped falling. Final bodies don't go anywhere, afterall. 

"Tell them it was Dream. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't theirs. Get them to kill that bastard." Tommy says, holding George's hands now. George nods as Tommy goes still and his eyes faze out. George chokes back a sob. No.... this isn't right. 

"I'm sorry..." He whispers to no one, because now there is no one there.

Why me?