Chapter 11: Safe

Scenario: Dream has just found the bunker that Tommy tried to keep hidden from him and blew up Logstedshire. This'll make more sense if you've seen the video where Tommy almost becomes Ghostinnit...

"I thought...Dream, I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry."

"You should've been sorry before you decided to go behind my back, Tommy. Why did you collect those items anyway? Would they help you get back to L'Manberg? Tommy, no one wants you in L'Manberg. No one wants you. Tubbo definitely doesn't. If he did, he'd have visited you. Do you understand?"

Tommy would've cried if he hadn't been in complete shock of Dream's words. "I...yes."

"Good." Dream walked around the area, now completely destroyed and obliterated. "You're going to start from nothing, Tommy. You need to learn your lesson. You're nothing."

He wanted to protest, to say Dream was wrong, that he was worth something, but he couldn't find the words.

"I...I…"

"I'll leave now, Tommy. I'll come and visit you sometimes."

"Every day?"

"No, not...not everyday. Once a week."

Tommy released a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay."

"Goodbye, Tommy."

"Bye, Dream."

Then the man in the mask walked away, leaving a broken boy standing on the sand, listening to the waves lapping at the beach.

"He...he was just...he wasn't my friend, was he?"

Tommy didn't know who he was talking to. There was no one. No one would hear him, and no one would ever care. No one would care if he died. Right here, right now. No one would even notice.

"No...I-I can't. Tubbo would...it would destroy him."

A small, shaky laugh escaped his lungs as he crouched in the sand and put his head in his hands.

"No...no it wouldn't," he whispered. "He'd be fine. He is fine."

It was silent for a few seconds.

He stood up abruptly, and, not caring if anyone was watching, because he knew no one was, he yelled at the sky, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't do it! One reason! Just one...why shouldn't I kill myself right now? I need one…"

He covered his mouth with his hand as tears spilled from his eyes. He almost sat down again, but he forced himself to stand up straight. The stars shone down on the water, and the moon shed its light on his defeated form.

"Dream...wasn't...my...friend."

Tommy heard himself speak those words, but he couldn't quite process them.

"Dream wasn't...my friend. He wasn't. He only came to watch me."

He felt his shoulders relaxing, dropping as he turned his gaze to the east. The sun was slowly rising on a new day, a different day. A chance to start over, to build something else, and maybe even completely something that would make his life worth living. Because right now, nothing was worth it. Even Ghostbur had left him. Tubbo no longer cared, and Dream wasn't his friend.

"I'm not going to die," he murmured to himself. "I'm not. I won't."

He held his breath, waiting for nothing as the light spread across the land.

He sighed slightly, relieved with himself and his decision. But now that that was decided, he needed to figure out what to do next. He couldn't stay here, so he needed to leave. And he could do that because Dream wouldn't be coming everyday. He had a few items, so he set off in the direction of the north. He had no food, but he hadn't had food at all that night or day, so he didn't feel hunger anymore. He was missing a shoe, but his foot was cut up so much already he didn't see how it could get any worse.

Tommy didn't know what he was looking for, he just kept walking. The air became colder, and soon it began to snow. He lost sensation in his fingertips, ears, and his foot. The wind whipped around his thin form, blowing his tattered shirt around. Every breath began harder and harder, until it felt like he was breathing pure ice.

He hadn't given up hope, mostly because he hadn't allowed himself to think for the past day, and he couldn't help but feel a small, numb emotion of relief when he saw smoke in the distance. There was a house, and it looked inviting. He staggered to the door, and made his way inside. It was warm, and he found that he could breathe normally again. He still couldn't feel his fingers, but that was alright for some reason. Here in this house, he finally felt safe.

Tommy hadn't felt that way in a long time, and he welcomed the feeling with open arms. It was quiet, and peaceful.

Safe.