(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

“He’s what?”

Phil could hardly contain himself as he processed what his eldest son had just told him. His wings flared up unhappily, hands gripping the small table in the kitchen of their cottage. Sun streamed in through one of the windows, lighting the room.

“I didn’t believe it at first,” Technoblade began, his massive form leaning against the counter, arms crossed, “but he’s really dead set on it.”

“I can’t believe him…” Phil muttered, running a hand through his hair and trying hard to quell the anger bubbling within him, “after everything Wilbur did for him… his older brother!”

There was a beat of silence, neither of them wanting to say it.

“We have to stop him.” The elder urged, frowning deeply.

“I know.” Technoblade sighed, eyes tired, “I know…”

Tommy was having a fucking shit day.

Actually just a fucking shit time in general.

For the past three weeks, he had barely moved from his spot in the tower. Not to eat, not to sleep, not to do anything. Only catering to his basic necessities when he was forced to. Binoculars strung around his neck, more often pressed against his eyes than not, he was constantly vigilant. He couldn’t bear the idea of looking away, even for a second. Ranboo and Tubbo had come around quite a few times, muttering things to themselves as they watched Tommy with a strange expression. They’d tried to convince him to take a break, to come down and visit Michael, to stay with them, check up on the hotel, anything other than sitting and staring at the prison, but to no avail.

With a begrudging resignation, the two had accepted they wouldn’t be able to get him away from the tower unless they dragged him back to Snowchester physically. And touch was a huge no.

So they fell back on plan B, which mainly consisted of making sure he had food and wasn’t dead. They checked in a lot, always trying to get him to talk about anything other than the prison, but Tommy could tell they were getting tired. Of the tower, of the prison, of everything that had to do with him really.

Tommy shifted silently, pulling the sleeves of the sweater he was wearing down further. It was much colder up so high, and he’d found that there was a constant lingering chill that came with being resurrected; he was never warm enough. Ranboo had caught on pretty quick, and offered a large maroon sweater of his. It was huge, in all honesty, and went down past Tommy’s knees. The shorter had muttered quietly about not needing it before swiping it from Ranboo’s grip, face still sour.

He raised the binoculars to his face once more, staring intently at different parts of the prison. His line of vision normally didn’t stray from where He was for too long, but he made sure to check everywhere he could see regularly. He tended to go into a sort of trance when doing it, and time became the least of his worries. He could go hours without realizing even a few minutes had gone by.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out of it when there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder.

Instantly, he felt his blood run cold. Ranboo and Tubbo knew that he couldn’t be touched. They would never do that, which meant it was someone other than the two touching him.

What if it was Him? What if it was someone who wanted to hurt him?

The sensation alone felt like it burned, body not used to being touched in any way, and Tommy quickly leapt from his seat, eyes wide. He pressed his back into the corner of the tower, staring at the intruders as he breathed heavily. His father and older brother stood where he once sat, and he wasn’t able to gage their expressions.

“What the fuck do you want?” He growled, trying to stop the shaking of his hands desperately. Technoblade raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Hello to you too.” The piglin hybrid muttered, and Tommy knew he needed them out immediately.

“Ranboo told us you died,” Phil began, and okay what the fuck kind of icebreaker was that? “Guess he was lying.” The winged man huffed out a halfhearted laugh. Tommy tried to control his breathing, nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep himself grounded. The hood of his sweater was up, hiding the white streak in his hair as well as shadowing over his sunken in and pale face. They didn’t notice anything amiss.

“Fuck. Off.” Tommy hissed, glaring at the two. That seemed to strike a chord with both of them as they returned the glare.

“We just came here to talk, mate.” Phil said, any hint of amusement gone. Blood dripped down from Tommy’s palms and onto the wooden floors. Either they didn’t notice or just didn’t care. His nails dug deeper.

“I don’t want to fucking talk to you. Either of you.” He growled, teeth clenched tightly. His back was still pressed up against the walls, waiting for them to attack him in any sort of way.

“Tough.” Technoblade said simply, as if he was daring Tommy to challenge him. The youngest of the three silently wondered where Ranboo and Tubbo were at that moment; if they’d care that Phil and Techno were there, or if they’d be relieved someone else had finally decided to deal with him.

They spent a moment in silence, sizing each other up.

“Okay listen,” Techno began finally, “you can’t kill Dream.”

The name alone sent shudders through his spine as he tried to back up even further. He bit back tears, glaring at the two but not speaking. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, he just couldn’t.

“He’s got the revive book,” Phil said, and it was like another slap to the face for Tommy, “we need it to bring Wilbur back and-”

“No.”

His father blanched, almost looking shocked that he’d been interrupted. He and Techno stared at Tommy.

“What did you say?”

“I said no.” Tommy repeated, giving his all to keep his voice from wavering. How these two had managed to come into his tower and hit almost every nail on the mark, angering and scaring him more and more as if it was a game, was beyond him. He couldn’t keep himself from shaking at that point. “You’re not bringing Wilbur back.”

Phil and Techno shared a look for a moment, as if they were telepathically conversing, before turning back to him.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking,” Phil said, almost laughing in disbelief, “how selfish can you get?”

Tommy nearly knocked his head against the wall, rearing back at the statement. Before he could even reply his father continued.

“Wil’s your brother, Tommy.” He said, eyes stone cold with resentment, “He always looked out for you, always cared for you, and now you’re turning your back on him?”

A part of Tommy screamed that he should explain himself; explain how Wilbur was not the man they believed him to be; how Wilbur had ruined him, much before Dream ever got a chance.

But another part, a louder part, cried out to keep it all inside. He didn’t need to share his weakness with the world. He didn’t want everyone knowing how pathetic he was when they already knew too much. He glowered at the two, face contorting into a snarl.

“And if I am?” He retorted, pushing his luck. Phil seemed to grow even angrier at that, taking a step forward at that and not caring when Tommy went pale, eyes widening.

Tommy was sure that was where things ended. His father would unsheath a sword, plunge it into his chest, much like he’d done to his son before, and it would be over.

Instead? He found his surroundings shifting.

At first, he thought he was passing out. He knew the feeling well and figured at that point he really didn’t care. What was the point? But it seemed Phil and Techno were also feeling whatever was happening, as they both went silent, looking at each other with puzzled expressions. Before he even knew what was going on, Tommy was on his knees in a new place.

With a shudder and a gasp, he threw his head up, scanning his surroundings. It was a small dark room, carpeted and stuffy. He swallowed thickly, eyes trying to adjust and make out more. His heart sunk when he realized Techno and Phil were there as well, but not as much as when he realized everyone was there.

Much like him, almost the entirety of the SMP was in varying degrees of confusion, blinking around and trying to gage their new area. Tommy heaved a gasp, jumping to his feet.

Please no. Please no. Please Please Please Please-

He felt his heart rate slow slightly as he looked over everyone for the ninth time. If there was a god, and he knew there were several, they didn’t hate him that much.

Within the room was himself, Technoblade, Phil, Tubbo, Ranboo, Quackity, George, Sapnap, Sam, Karl, Puffy, Fundy, Niki and Jack. He was nowhere to be found… but it seemed neither was an exit.

Before anyone could truly gather their bearings, a light began to glow from the other side of the room. The group turned their heads to the source, eyes widening in shock and confusion, while all Tommy could do was practically melt with relief.

“Drista…” he began softly, making his way over to the god. She was standing opposed to them, mask covering her face but somehow it wasn’t at all menacing. Her presence was actually… comforting. Tommy smiled.

There was a moment where everyone simply stood in complete confusion and befuddlement.

“Okay what the fuck is going on?” Quackity demanded finally, blinking the daze out of his eyes. They’d all stood at that point, not knowing what to do or where to go.

“Where are we?” Fundy asked, looking all around the room.

“How did we get here?” Tubbo asked, gripping Ranboo’s hand tightly.

“Who the hell is that?” George questioned, looking in Drista’s direction.

“Calm down.” She ordered, and it felt almost threatening. Well, to everyone who didn’t know her. Tommy stood confidently behind her, smirking. “Give me a minute, god…” He almost laughed at how unorganized she sounded.

“I brought you here,” She said, “I’m Drista, one of the gods of this server.”

The SMP ensemble collectively frowned, looking at each other unsurely, not knowing what to do. What was there to say to a statement like that?

“I’ve tried to let you guys work things out on your own, but apparently you’re only smart enough to start conflict, not resolve it.” She muttered, the soft glow emanating from her growing slightly stronger at her frustration. They at least had the decency to look abashed.

“You lot are going to sit here and watch what I put on the screen. I don’t care what stupid things you have going on in the server, you will not be leaving this room until I say so.”

With their eyes more adjusted and the god in the room bringing attention to it, they could make out a seating area and large screen. As though she’d said it aloud, they slowly shuffled into the rows, not wanting to upset the god. The first row was Tommy, Ranboo, Tubbo and Puffy. The second George, Quackity, Karl and Sapnap. The third Fundy, Techno and Phil. The fourth and final being Sam, Niki and Jack. Drista nodded silently.

Without a word, she suddenly disappeared from the room, the glow going with her, and they were left to sit in complete darkness and silence.

“This has to be a fucking fever dream.” Fundy announced after a couple beats. A couple of them nodded, but no one could see in the dark.

“It can’t be real…” George mumbled, laughing incredulously.

“Tommy, you know her?” Puffy asked.

“Yeah… she’s my friend.” He answered hesitantly. A couple scoffs rang out through the room, but without his vision he wasn’t sure who was behind them.

“Of course Tommy’s friends with a god.” Niki muttered bitterly, “She probably gives him all sorts of free things.”

Besides the stinging that came with Niki of all people being the one to say that, Tommy wanted to argue back that he quite literally was the poorest person on the server, but held his tongue.

Before anyone could say anything in response, the screen lit up.

“Here we fucking go I guess…” Tommy muttered.

No one laughed.

HOPE U GUYS LIKED IT

sorry this chapter's so short its just the setup and kinda rushed cause i so desperately want to get into the other bits... hopefully another update will come soon