A Guide To Medicine and War

Nine

"Why do you care? I'm not dead."

"But you were! And you didn't deserve that and all I saw was blond hair in the river. And Eret was screaming because it was her fault and then Purpled was running. And I wanted to stop! I can't stop, Tommy, not on an active battle field! I've trained for it, I've fought here for five years and nothing ever stopped me like that, not Qua-not my friends dying, or nearly dying, but you did! You made me stop, and you shouldn't have! Prime, Tommy, you're so fucking important for the stupidest reasons."

"I'm not?" Tommy mutters, ignoring the way Purpled clings to him with inhuman strength. Purpled opens his mouth to speak, but Sapnap starts before he can.

"Tommy, I...When you died, you know what I thought? 'Who's going to bully Dream with me? Who will share crappy food with me? I'm not going to have someone willing to fight for me like I matter, I'm losing one of my people.' Tommy, you're one of my people. You don't die, okay? You stick around, and you fight, no matter what."

"No matter what? What do you mean by that?"

Sapnap crouches down next to the two of them, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It means whoever is hurting you, you fight against. It doesn't matter if it's the syndicate, or Eret, or-or Dream, okay? You fight them, because you matter."

"Why?" Tommy asks, voice quiet and nearly breaking.

(It's a strange thing to be strong, unshakable through pain and suffering, but shatter at the mere touch of something gentle. It's a strange thing, but it is human.)

"Because you're you, Tommy. And that's all that's ever mattered," Sapnap says, confident and smiling and proud. And it's wrong because this is Sapnap, who only knows jokes and violence, not gentle words. But apparently he does.

"The fossil is right, for once. You're just...inexplicably you, and that's what matters. We'll be okay." Purpled says, only partially ruining the moment.

"Shut the fuck up, color boy," Sapnap shouts, yelling as Purpled leaps after him with renewed bravado.

Tommy laughs, because this is right.

-/-/-/-/

"Hello, Wilbur," a woman says, sitting next to him. She has apparently been given a rare moment of peace, quite unlike anything she can have. It comes with the job, he supposes, but still. He'd like to see his (adopted) mother, even if she's the Goddess of Death.

"Hey, mumza," he mutters, looking over at her from his spot on the cot. She looks like she normally does, elegant in a way only she can. Her hair is dark again, eyes tired but bright, and she radiates safety.

She sits next to him, letting him clutch her hand like a life line.

"Did he...did Tommy go to limbo?" Wilbur asks, voice shaking and cracking. It doesn't matter that Tommy is alive now, because he still died. And Wilbur, well, Wilbur doesn't want that for him.

"I shouldn't tell you that, Wil."

"I need to know, please?"

"Alright. Tommy did go to limbo. I couldn't stop it, it's just...he had to."

Wilbur collapses in on himself, dropping to the ground and shaking with sobs.

"Oh, Wil..."

"Why—why did he have to go? That-it doesn't work like that? I only went after..."

"Yeah, I know. There are two places, the field or limbo. Most people, they go to the field unless it's their past death and then they go to the afterlife. You should've gone there, actually. But some people go to limbo. Because they have to."