A Family's Exile // Dream SMP

Day 2

Tommy awoke to light streaming through the openings of his tent. He slipped out from under his covers and let the warmth from the sun cover his body. He took a few steps outside his tent and breathed in the fresh air. He turned and headed for the camp ghostbur had built for them. Grabbing a bowl out of his inventory he approached his cow mushroom Henry. He was reminiscing at the name, a tribute to his late cow Henry, when it hit him just how lonely he was. Sure he had ghostbur, but he was just a shell that lacked complex understanding. Plus he served as a constant reminder of Tommy's dead brother. He was truly alone out here. His loathing was cut short by a voice behind him.

"Hello Tommy, how are you?"

Tommy spun around to face the masked man, setting down his half eaten stew.

"What do you want?" Tommy responded harshly.

"Now is that any way to greet your only friend?"

What

"You aren't my-" Tommy stopped himself. His best friend had exiled him and everyone else had just let it happen.

"Friends wouldn't let this happen," he thought to himself.

Maybe he didn't have any friends, but Dream certainly wasn't one, was he?

"No," he resigned to himself. He wasn't ready to buy into that. Not yet at least.

"You aren't my friend, prick!" He finished, acting as if his stop was simply a stutter. But Dream was smarter than that. He knew he was weakening already.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Dream teased, "that's no matter though. Looks like you've got some new stuff since we last talked?"

"Yea, I got it myself," Tommy whined, still upset about the loss of his old gear.

"I'm impressed," Dream mused, tucking his hands into the pocket of his lime green hoodie, "Drop it."

Tommy stepped back in shock.

"You already got all my stuff," he argued, unable to hide his surprise.

"I said, drop it."

"Fuck off," Tommy attempted weakly to refute the undeniably stern tone of Dream's statement.

"Oh...we wouldn't want a repeat of the other night, now would we?" Dream stepped forward, sliding his hands out of his hoodie pocket and pulling out a gleaming netherite axe. "Now, do I need to repeat myself?"

Tommy froze. He didn't want to give up his stuff, but he also didn't want to deal with another bandage.

Apparently, taking too long was the wrong option. Dream lunged forward and grabbed Tommy by the injured arm, fingers wrapped tightly around the bandages.

"OK!" Tommy cried out in pain.

Dream loosened his grip to let the teen toss out all his items.  Tommy held his sword for a second longer before finally tossing it into the pile.

"Good," said Dream without a hint of emotion before he turned around and left after destroying the items with his TNT.

Tommy crumpled to the ground. Had he disappointed his only friend?