Forget-Me-Not (dreamxreader)

38 || Loss

TW: SWEARING, YELLING, DISTRESS, BLOOD, GORE, IMMENSE GRIEF, MORE GORE, SEVERE TRAUMA

Lots of gore guys, I usually don't write this much but there is a lot. 

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Ringing. 

Piercing loud ringing. 

That horrible burning stink of Sulfur wafting below my nose. 

Dust on my eyelids, on my face. It falls into my eyes as I try to open them. I feel it burn. 

Something sharp cuts my palms as I try to push myself up, I don't recoil. I force tears to well in my eyes and push the dust out. 

The ringing slowly fades and the first thing I notice is the voices' silence. They must have been knocked out...

Knocked out...

Tommy. 

The ringing fades and I feel a hand on my back. There's so much yelling but all I can think of is Tommy. I need to get to him. I need to make sure he's alive. I have to heal him. My vision clears enough that I can see my hands. 

In my daze, I can make out Techno and Ranboo's features. They're talking to me but I can't hear them. Finally, my adrenaline hits. 

"Tommy," I think my voice says and I push myself off the ground. I stumble and Techno catches me. More words that I don't hear. 

"Tommy."

My head lobs around from side to side and then I finally spot him. His body had been blown back from the centre of the community house by the explotion. It didn't look like a body. Not like a body of a person and certainly not Tommy's body. 

The only recogniseable part of him were the scraps of his clothes and the tiniest peek of blond on his head. 

"Tommy," I groan louder and push off Techno and stumble over to him. 

I touch his shoulder and shake him. 

Nothing. 

My hand nearly sticks to him his skin is so sticky. Did he have any skin left? It was hard to tell. I was sure nearly every bone in his body would have suffered some kind of damage from the explosion. There's a squelching sound as I peel my hand away from his shoulder. Blood oozes from a fresh wound and I feel a chuck of flesh drip from my palm. 

I taste iron in my mouth and unconsciously touch my lips. More blood. Lighter blood, more crimson nowhere near as dark as the blood that clung to Tommy's clothes. I didn't care. 

"Tommy," I put my hands on both shoulders again and shake. It takes everything in me not to vomit. His neck doesn't support his head as it flops around like heavy fruit on a tree branch. Rotten fruit that hangs limply read to sever from the branch at any second. 

Tommy's clothes were in tatters leaving only strips of stained fabric on his torso and legs. I crawl forward more feeling warmth on my knees and pricks from what must be glass. I catch a glance of it pooling on the ground around us. Running in tiny rivers through the tiny crevasses of rubble and valleys of shattered bricks and glass and who knows what else. Our blood pooled together in a way that I never imagined. 

A sob sticks in my chest and I try to get Tommy up again. 

"Tommy," I beg. My voice sounded as though it didn't belong to me. I sounded like a child who had grazed their knee, burbling with a wobbly lip.