(A/N: req as a pic. i barely know of hermitcraft but like. i did my best please believe me.
cw: panic attack)
He doesn't know where he is.
The void has spat him back out, and instead of landing in the prison like he'd expected, Tommy had been shoved into someplace else. A different place, with trees and flowers blooming, with tall, expansive and detailed houses in the distance that don't seem to be blown up or burnt, with a cleanness to the air free of the remains of smoke and ash that Tommy hasn't breathed in for a long time.
This isn't the Dream SMP.
Not that Tommy can really focus on that part now. All of his senses are ramped up. His skin feels like it's on fire, his eyes are closed from the sheer brightness of everything around him, the smells of the trees and the flowers are too sweet and natural, the saliva he can taste feels too much, and it's all just-
His breath comes out quick, and in pants. Everything just feels like too much, and Tommy wonders if he can just close his eyes and faint again. At least it would relieve him from this pain.
"Whoa, are you okay?" someone says, sounding like they're a man. Even those few words are too loud, and Tommy clamps his hands over his ears, flinching at the sharp pain it brings.
"Please don't touch me," he whimpers, curling away. He feels pathetic, feels weak, but maybe the man will take pity on him and leave him alone. Or not. "I- please leave me, I don't-"
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," the man says softly. He crouches down, somehow having moved nearer while he had been panicking earlier, and Tommy flinches away. Not that it matters much; he's shaking too much to move any more than an inch or two.
"Please," he repeats. The world is spinning, and he already feels lightheaded, and oh, he shouldn't have spoken up at all-
"Hey, hey, breathe in," the man soothes, and Tommy sucks in a sharp breath, and even that feels painful to do. He lets out a painful wheeze, and hears the other man curse under his breath.
Then, something is being held under his mouth. Tommy blinks at it through wet eyes.
"It's a potion of healing," the man tells him. "If you want, I can some of it first, and prove to you that it doesn't hurt."
Slowly, Tommy nods. The man gently tilts his head up, halting when Tommy flinches. Then, when he makes sure he can see, the man tips his head back and drinks about a quarter of the potion down.
Tommy watches warily as the man hands the bottle back. He waits.
There's no sign of pain from the man.
It doesn't mean it's not harmful, but at least it won't kill him or damage him. Tommy slowly drinks it, feeling the pain in his chest slowly start to heal. He breathes again, and this time, it feels easier to do.
"Are you better now?" the man asks. Tommy flickers his eyes between him and the bottle.
"How much-" his throat is raspy, so he clears it and tries again. "How much do I have to give you back."
"What?" the man sounds genuinely surprised. Tommy can't understand why. "You don't owe me anything. You were hurt, so I just healed you up. Kindness is free."
Tommy shakes his head. "No, usually- people want- they want a favour, or something at least. I- nobody..."
Why is it so hard to speak now? His shoulders start to shake again, and tears leak down his eyes. Prime, he's pathetic.
"Nobody does all that without expecting something," Tommy whispers, and a sob tears its way out of his throat. His tears flow faster.
"Okay, okay, it's okay," the man quickly says. "Look, how about... aha! How about you just tell me your name?"
His name? Tommy could do that. "I- my name's Tommy. Tommy Innit."
"Tommy Innit," the man repeats. He flashes him a smile, and Tommy has to do a double take at the lack of malice in it. Weirdly enough, he even finds himself beginning to hope.
"You can call me Grian."