AWESAMDAD TIME!!! <3

Hi guys!! I meant to get this out a few hours ago but the lore announcements had me losing my mind and I accidentally focused on that instead of this lol.

Anyways! Great to see you guys again!! Today we have something I know a lot of u have been waiting for... Mr. Dude!! He finally gets his time to shine!! Very exciting ^_^

Hope u guys enjoy!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Tommy had only ever shared about his life before the server once; to Sam and Sam alone.

It had been a rather hot day, the sun beating down on them, wind all but gone, and the air was thick and sticky. They’d been working on the hotel; just Sam, Tommy and Sam Nook. Collecting more flowers for the dye had been Tommy’s job, but Sam had found himself trailing along anyway.

They’d gone out to the fields just out past the crater of L’Manberg, and gone searching for dandelions and red poppies. The grass had always been the greenest out there, right next to the redwood forests, and Sam found that it was one place he would always want to keep untouched.

“Did you know dandelions are a weed?” Tommy had asked him, back turned as he stared at the plains, hunched over slightly and staring at the abundance of tiny yellow weeds sprouting from beneath the ground.

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, nodding along. The gentle wind rustled the grass at their feet.

“We had a lot back home…” The blond muttered, still watching quietly, “daisies too.”

Sam perked up slightly at the mention of Tommy’s home, a home before Sam had ever known him, intrigued.

“Phil said I wasn’t allowed to pick the daisies.” Tommy huffed out a laugh, “said they were too pretty for that.” He paused, staring at the dirt, “I sure picked the fuck out of those dandelions, though.”

The older man nodded quietly, paying apt attention. He always seemed to forget that Phil was Tommy’s father, it just… slipped his mind.

“Did you ever wish on them?” He asked, tilting his head.

Tommy stiffened slightly at that, so barely that it was practically invisible to the eye. His gaze flicked over to the yellow weeds, still in their prime, a bright and brilliant canary, and he pursed his lips.

He had. He’d wished for a father.

“No.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes with a scoff. “But it doesn’t really matter… right?”

Sam furrowed a brow, kneeling down beside Tommy and giving him an odd look.

“Why not?” He questioned.

The blond snorted, smirking slightly. He grabbed at one of the dandelions, plucking it from the ground unceremoniously and squishing it in the palm of his hand.

“Because they’re weeds, Sam,” He said, letting the crumpled dandelion fall to the grass in a pathetic heap, “weeds don’t grant wishes.”

A gentle smile and round glasses flashed in his mind; a pressed weed in the breast pocket of a trench coat soaked with blood.

“True,” Sam relented, nodding and shrugging his shoulders, “but they also symbolize hope and prosperity. Despite what people call them, they don’t let that take away their happy little glow.” He smiled, reaching out and gently running his finger across the yellow furls of the dandelion.

Tommy scowled, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not about what people call them,” he huffed, “it’s about what they are.” He spat, “They can be as pretty as they want but they’re still weeds. And they won’t ever be flowers.”

The creeper paused, silent for a moment and watching quietly. He pursed his lips, eyes soft.

“Well I think they’re nice,” He said finally, delicately plucking one from the grass and pinching it between his fingers, “I don’t care if they’re weeds… personally I don’t think they are.”

Tommy stared at him, unimpressed.

“You don’t?” He raised a brow, arms crossed.

“I don’t,” Sam shook his head, smiling, “I think they’re considered a weed, but I don’t think that’s what they are.” He paused, gaze flicking over to Tommy momentarily. The boy's full attention was on him, watching carefully. He grinned. “They’re sweet and soft, and the bees just love them. People don’t like them because they’re perennial.” He muttered, “They’ll come back year after year, and they grow wherever they want.”

He looked over at Tommy, eyes fond, and gently placed the dandelion behind the blond’s ear. The latter scowled, looking down at the ground as if embarrassed, but made no move to remove it.

“I think,” Sam began, “that dandelions are my favourite flower.”

Afterwards, they’d returned to the hotel with bushels of poppies and dandelions, and Tommy had carefully placed a dandelion behind Sam Nook’s ear.

Sam looked over in Tommy’s direction, heart swelling in his chest.

All he’d ever wanted was to protect the boy. Everything he did was for Tommy, and yet here he sat, watching some sick display of every single time he’d failed; of every time he hadn’t been there.

And he just couldn’t fathom it. He couldn’t understand how Dream and Wilbur had seen a boy so kind and good and had ruined that.

Sam thought of Dream, of the man who had looked Tommy in his eyes and hurt him, and felt sick to his stomach. Wilbur had at least still had the heart to look away, to block it out and pretend it was all a bad dream.

He thought of the way Tommy had looked at him, of how he’d said the words you let me die with tears in his eyes, and swallowed back bile.

There was nothing he could do to go back, no way he could take back what he’d done, and Tommy had died.

“He’s a heavy sleeper, hm?” Puffy said, dragging Sam from his thoughts. She was looking over at Tommy, smiling softly as the boy continued to sleep despite everything going on around him.

Tubbo laughed, eyes brightening as he leaned over excitedly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he grinned, “you’d have a better chance waking a rock. Once he’s out he’s out for good. ”

“He sleeps harder than the dead,” Fundy snickered, “there was this one time that Niki-”

“I don’t think we need to tell that story!” Niki interjected, eyes wide and face red from embarrassment. Fundy, Tubbo and Jack laughed to themselves while the others looked confused.

As the room dissolved into amicable chatter, Sam pursed his lips, looking away. With the Dream on the screen being put in prison, that only left so much time until the inevitable, and he felt himself growing sick at the thought of it.

He knew firsthand how gruesome it’d been, and he thought back to the reactions during Pogtopia and Exile, frowning. He wasn’t sure if the others would be able to stomach what was coming.

Nevertheless, the screen continued.

Drista couldn’t have cared less about them, and maybe Sam found that a trait in her he admired; perhaps the only way to truly get through to these people was to show them the gore and the grit firsthand, with no regard for the audience’s wellbeing.

Tommy trekked through the snow, dressed in only a light sweater and still wearing his sneakers. The shoes were worn and ripped, with a hole in the left one that he could stick his toe out of.

“He could’ve at least given the boots back if he decided he didn’t want to use them anymore.” Technoblade commented, unimpressed.

Tubbo, however, perked up at the screen, eyes flashing with recognition.

The sky was bright, barely a cloud in sight, and the sun’s reflection bouncing off of the snow nearly blinded him. Behind him there were large spruces, plentiful and clumped together in heavy bunches.

The blond looked up, unimpressed at the log cabin in front of him. His hands were stuffed grumpily into his pockets, and he muttered something to himself.

“That’s Snowchester!” Tubbo chirped happily.

“I still don’t understand why you chose to build out in the snow.” Sapnap raised a brow, looking slightly perturbed.

“Some of us happen to like the snow, Sapnap.” The former president retorted.

Ranboo looked away sheepishly, trying to avoid his husband’s gaze. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the snow, but more so that between his home in the arctic and Snowchester it was… a lot of snow.

Bitterly, he turned on his heel, meandering down towards the icy shore. He stared down at the water, face blank. Beneath the waves, he watched the schools of sculpins and cod as they swam, completely content with their little selves.

Quackity narrowed his eyes at the sight, images of Tommy thrashing in pitch black oceans in the dead of night surfacing in his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the sounds of the blond gasping for air and coughing harshly, of him choking on salt-water and heaving through ruined lungs on the sand.

Tommy sighed, turning around and swiping off some of the snow from a lone log before seating himself upon it.

Curiously a brown cellar spider poked its head out from his pocket, crawling up his sweater sleeve and perching itself on his shoulder. He gave it an amused look.

Jack cringed, looking away.

“What?” Niki smiled coyly, elbowing him in the ribs, “you’re not used to spiders by now?”

“I don’t care how many bugs that kid pulls out of nowhere,” Jack began, hunched in on himself, “those little creeps will never not make me gag.”

“You’re going to freeze, you idiot.” He smirked, “Spiders aren’t meant for the cold, didn’t you know?”

The arachnid seemed to take offense at that, scuttling away into his hood. He barked out a loud laugh.

“I don’t know how he does it.” Puffy muttered, shaking her head.

“He’s always been like that.” Came a hoarse voice from behind, and many of them turned, wide-eyed. Phil was staring up at them, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Since the very beginning.”

“We used to find ants in the pantry,” Technoblade added, sounding almost as though he was reminiscing, “Tommy would always let them in… Said they told him they were hungry.”

A few of them laughed at that, Fundy especially.

“The little shit would be talking to the crickets at bloody four in the morning,” Phil chuckled lightly, “always with the chirping.”

And despite the fact that the others around him seemed to find it endearing, Sam found that for some reason he could feel nothing but disdain. For some reason he felt his heart sink as they told their stories.

Why did they get to have all these sweet moments to share about Tommy when he was young? Why did they get to speak about him as if they’d actually been there for him as a child.

Sam’s chest ached at the thought of Tommy at such an age, and for some reason he wished so badly that it could have been him with the cute little stories and baby pictures.

“Don’t worry,” he hummed, “we won’t stay for long…” He trailed off, staring out at the horizon. The water, despite it’s icy nature, seemed to call to him. He stayed rooted in his place. “I just wanted to check out Snowchester for a little bit. Tubbo lives here now.”

Tubbo smiled at his own name.

The spider poked at his hood excitedly, making him groan.

“I’m not calling him,” He rolled his eyes, “he has things to do. And so do I, you little bastard. I don’t know what it is with the lot of you but you’re always demanding I call someone. What if I wanted to be on my own? Ever considered that? Hm?”

Many of them could relate to that, and Technoblade snorted, amused.

Ranboo thought of his particles above him, of how they constantly whispered and jeered for him to do the same, and smirked slightly, knowing they were listening and watching with him.

His eight-legged friend went quiet, back to its regular chittering of incoherent things. He sighed.

Tommy was quiet for a moment, turning his head to look at the collection of cabins up on the hill. He pursed his lips, frowning as though he was uneasy.

“A new nation…” He muttered, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly at his side, “Think I’ve seen this one before… yeah?” He smirked slightly.

“It’s not a nation,” Tubbo frowned, furrowing a brow, “it’s a commune. A militaristic colony more than anything!”

“What a great place to raise our two-year old son.” Ranboo nodded quietly along.

“Don’t you even start right now.” The ram narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger in his husband’s face. The taller barked out a loud laugh.

At his side, Tommy shuffled slightly, curling in closer to his shoulder and murmuring something incoherent in his sleep.

Ranboo softened slightly at that, moving to card a hand through the younger’s hair.

The blond paused, biting the inside of his cheek, looking to be thinking very hard.

“People are going to keep doing this, you know?” He asked, though the cellar spider didn’t answer, “Now that Dream’s locked up they can make as many nations as they want. They can expand and keep creating.”

“To be fair there’s only like… three new countries…” Karl mumbled quietly. “Three’s a small number.”

“For sweets maybe, not entire nations.” Sam snorted.

Tommy let out a huff, standing and brushing the snow off of himself. Gently, he reached into his hood, pulling his friend out and holding it up before his face. It didn’t look very pleased with him.

“Ugly fucker.” Jack hissed.

Tubbo glared at him, though it lacked any real venom.

“Tommy or the spider?” Fundy questioned, tilting his head.

Phil sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Fundy, can you please be normal for five minutes?” He pleaded, eyes tired.

His grandson only snickered to himself.

“I think I’ve done this already,” He admitted, sounding almost tired, “I’ve been here, I’ve done it.” he laughed quietly, “the thrill would just be gone for me… yeah? I have to dedicate my time to something else. Instead of- Instead of making some new country, because Prime knows there’ll be a lot more of those to come.”

Niki blinked, as if taken aback, albeit only slightly.

That was a much more mature reaction from Tommy than she’d expected. In her mind she still saw him as the boy who jumped into everything headfirst, who never grew tired of causing problems.

The teen pocketed the cellar spider, letting it crawl back into the warmth of his sweater, and pulled his hood up. He looked over at the treeline before opening his communicator. He tapped on the contact labelled Sam and typed a simple phrase.

Where are you right now

The screen went dark.

“Ohhhhh,” Tubbo nodded, as though he’d finally realized something, “it’s the hotel time!”

Sam sat quietly, not saying a word.

“Is that really… necessary?” Niki pondered aloud, brow furrowed. “I just mean that- it’s like- the hotel was a failure to begin with, and it’s Jack’s now. Compared to everything else we’ve seen this just doesn’t feel as important.

Puffy looked back, a disappointed frown on her face, but didn’t speak.

“I’ll worry about what’s necessary and what isn’t.” Drista replied, voice curt and snappy, “And I think you of all people have other things to worry about than the hotel.”

Niki blanched, looking confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She questioned, looking up at the ceiling. Drista refused to answer.

Once again, Puffy looked back at the pink haired woman. Her brows were drawn into a concerned expression, but she quickly went back to staring at the screen.

Niki shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, pursing her lips.

Tommy stood awkwardly on the Prime Path in the low light of the evening. He held his communicator tightly in his left hand, eyes scanning over the horizon.

Just feet away from him were the remains of Dream’s home. Broken brick walls that were turning ever so slowly to dust, and overturned chests that had been hastily emptied.

Tubbo bit the inside of his mouth at the sight of the ruins, unsure of how to feel. He and Tommy had been so young and careless when they’d first gone sneaking into it. He could remember telling the blond to put back the diamonds he’d took, but looking back now, he wished they’d taken more.

“Tommy!” A voice from behind him called, and he perked up, whirling around.

Sam stood on the lower ledge of the path, looking up with a friendly smile. He waved gently, beginning to walk closer.

The man watching himself on screen blinked, unsure of how to feel at the sight of his past self.

“Have my shoulders always been that broad?” He asked.

Ranboo snickered quietly to himself.

“You’re buff as hell, dude.” Sapnap commented, “Didn’t you know?”

“Sammy boy!” Tommy chirped, waving back enthusiastically, “Big man Sam!”

The older man approached, stopping in front of him with an amused huff. He raised a brow, crossing his arms.

“That’s a new one,” he hummed, “I like it, it rhymes.”

Puffy smiled at the screen. It wasn’t often that people, especially the older people, on the server played into Tommy’s antics, but Sam had always had a good heart.

More than anything she knew that he’d always had a soft spot for the boy.

Tommy beamed at him, instantly dissolving into an incoherent jumble of random addon sentences and complete nonsense. Things about prisons and bugs and real estate and the economy and every other word in the book.

Sam watched, befuddled, as the blond talked his ear off, boasting about his ‘Big Plan’ which he had yet to state. About maybe a third of the conversation was actually getting through to him, but in completely abstract words that didn’t make an ounce of sense.

“He’s worse than you.” George stated plainly, looking at Karl. The latter tried his best to look offended, but couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

“Tommy,” He began, stifling a laugh, “what did you call me all the way out here for?”

The blond paused in his rambling, turning to look at the creeper. He grinned.

“I’m glad you asked!” He clapped his hands together, outstretching an arm towards the remnants of Dream’s home with a dramatic flare, “I’d like to hire you.”

Sam paused, looking at the crumbling foundation and then back at the teen.

“...You’d like to hire me.” He repeated.

Tommy nodded enthusiastically.

“What for?” The older man asked, looking at the pathetic ruins before him and cocking a brow.

“Weren’t you already working on a project at that point?” Quackity asked, head tilting curiously.

“I was,” Sam nodded, “The bank.”

“You mean the bank you still haven’t finished?” Puffy smirked, looking back at him.

“...Maybe.” The Warden muttered, looking off to the side.

Quackity laughed loudly.

The blond paused, losing a bit of his confidence. He sighed, turning his head to look back at the massive prison looming behind them and then back to the older man.

“Sam, I’m going to be honest with you,” he began, “I need a new start.”

Ranboo smiled sadly at that, looking down at Tommy.

“Kind of weird for him to be doing something on his own like this.” Technoblade noted.

“What?” Tubbo offered him a quizzical glance.

“Tommy likes to play the leader, but he’s usually stuck following.” The piglin explained, “even when we were little, he just followed me and Wilbur around. And the same thing with L’Manberg. He just… follows.”

Jack pursed his lips, frowning.

The man in question blinked, as if he hadn’t been expecting the serious shift. He nodded quietly, motioning to continue.

“Things are starting back up again… y’know?” Tommy asked, “People are getting back out there now that they’re not living under fear anymore, but the thing is that the Community House is gone. There’s no more staple on the server. There’s not a place that brings everyone together anymore.”

Sapnap stared at the screen, watching with a sinking feeling in his chest. He’d placed so much blame on Tommy for the supposed destruction of the Community House.

That build had been the foundation of the server. It had been everything, and seeing it blown to pieces had made him shaky in the knees.

But the day after, when he’d been standing in the ruins, staring at everything he’d lost, it wasn’t Dream that came to him. It wasn’t Dream that appeared with the intent to mend and move forward, to apologize and reminisce.

It was Tommy.

Despite everything, it had always been him and Tommy.

“There’s the church.” Sam offered optimistically.

The blond smirked sadly.

“Believe it or not, and I had a very hard time believing this, but not everyone likes the church as much as I do.” He laughed.

“Because it’s bull.” Tubbo deadpanned.

Puffy turned to look at him, confused.

“You don’t like the church?” She asked.

The former president scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Tommy’s so convinced Prime is this all-knowing God… y’know?” He began, “but it’s not like She was ever there for him when he needed it. He devotes all this time to praying and worshipping and it gets him nowhere! If anything he’s worse off than the rest of us!”

Quackity frowned, looking slightly upset.

“Sometimes faith is what keeps a person going, Tubbo.” The duck said quietly, “Tommy’s strength is within him, but She brings it out. She doesn’t let it go to waste.”

“I’m not arguing whether or not she’s real, Big Q,” Tubbo replied, “I’m sitting in a room that some other God tossed me into. I know gods are real. I just think they’re cruel, and I think they take advantage of humanity's hive mindset.” He snorted.

“Tubbo-”

“If Prime cared about Tommy even a sliver as much as he cared about her, then he wouldn't have died!” The ram snapped, a hint of animosity coming out with his words.

Quackity faltered as the room went silent. The others in the rows stared at each other in the tense quiet, unsure of what to do.

Tommy was completely oblivious to the world around him, chest rising and falling slowly as he continued to sleep.

“... I don’t think that’s true.” A disembodied voice said finally, breaking the terse silence.

Tubbo looked up at the ceiling, perplexed. “What?”

“I said I don’t think that’s true.” Drista repeated, and she sounded almost… angry. “You don’t understand Gods, and I think it’s in your best interest not to speak like you do.”

Tubbo narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists.

“But you’re Gods!” He cried, exasperated, “You could have saved him!” His voice wavered at the last two words, and Ranboo swore he saw tears building in his husband’s eyes.

“You can do anything and you choose to sit there and let this happen to the people who dedicate their lives to you.” Tubbo muttered quietly.

Drista was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his words.

“Just forget it,” She sighed, “you wouldn’t understand it, but Gods have rules too.”

Tubbo frowned, furrowing his brow, but the silence stretched out.

For a moment the two were quiet, and Sam watched as Tommy stared holes into the ground where Dream used to stay.

“I want to build a hotel, Sam.” The teen said finally, looking back over to the creeper. “Or… I suppose I want to hire you to build it for me.”

The creeper felt a pang in his chest at the words. Memories of staying up late tracing blueprints, of building a little robot with a hardhat and a friendly smile, of laying the foundations for the hotel, of Tommy smiling up at him, all came flooding back.

He felt bile rising in his throat.

“You want me to build you a hotel?” Sam repeated, seemingly perplexed.

Tommy took a deep breath, re-affixing his smile and opening his arms wide.

“Yup!” He agreed, grinning wide, “That’s exactly what I want!”

Puffy’s features softened as she watched the screen, a small smile growing on her face.

I missed seeing him smile, she thought quietly to herself.

Sam paused, staring at the lot of land it seemed as though Tommy had already picked out. It wasn’t much. Uneven land and coarse dirt with the remnants of someone else’s house already built upon it. He turned to the blond.

“Why?” He asked simply.

Tommy groaned, running a hand across his face. “I already told you!” He cried, “There’s going to be conflict soon I know it, okay? And wars are going to start up again and the Community House is gone! I want people to have a place to stay in between all that.”

“...That’s not what I was expecting from him.” Karl said, perplexed.

“I’m gonna be honest, I heard the words ‘Tommy’ and ‘hotel’ together and immediately said it was a scam.” Technoblade commented, arms crossed.

“I did too…” Puffy admitted sheepishly. She’d always found Tommy’s scams and schemes endearing more than anything, often harmless, but that didn’t mean she didn’t expect them of him.

“He did say he wanted to change,” Ranboo began quietly, “I think he was serious about it.”

The others were quiet.

Sam’s features softened at the words, and he smiled just barely. He sighed, shaking his head.

Phil cocked his head to the side at that, slightly confused. It seemed that the warden had a soft spot for his youngest.

“Alright,” He began, looking back up with crossed arms, “If you’re one hundred percent serious about this, let’s discuss payment.”

Instantly, Tommy’s serious facade crumbled, and he all but jumped in the air.

“Yes!” He cried excitedly, bouncing with joy, “I knew you’d say yes I knew it!”

Puffy giggled, smiling wide at the screen as she watched the teen celebrate.

Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes, but a smirk tugged at his lips; just barely.

Sam watched with a raised brow as the boy once again dissolved into completely incomprehensible chatter, and felt the last remaining energy he had being sapped from his body.

This was going to be one of his most difficult projects.

The screen faded to black.

“I can’t believe I thought the hotel was just some get rich quick scheme…” Puffy muttered, looking sad, “all this time he wanted to give everyone a place to be together.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong,” Sam began, leaning over in his seat, “a big part of it was about the money. I mean, let’s be real here. It’s Tommy.” He snorted, and a couple people laughed with him. “But he did also want to build a staple for the community. He wanted somewhere everyone felt safe. A new home away from home.”

Jack thought back to his hotel; the black and red build with incomplete and unfurnished rooms, the sign out front that read Manifold Hotel in big bold letters, the array of emptied bottles of liquor strewn about haphazardly. He didn’t feel guilty for seizing control of a dead boy’s dream, but he didn’t exactly feel magnificent about it either.

The scene on the screen switched, signalling the beginning of a new memory, and they all brought their gazes up to watch.

It was a sunny day on the server. The clouds were sparse, barely any in sight, and the wind was gentle; a subtle breeze. The grass was green, blooming with little white flowers and buds.

Amidst it all, Tommy stood completely alone, feet rooted in place, at the very top of the server’s largest tower, trident in hand.

Tubbo froze, and the rest of the room followed suit. He looked over in a panic at his sleeping friend, distressed, but Ranboo quickly grabbed ahold of his hand.

“It’s okay.” The enderman assured him, “he’s right here.”

His shoes were planted firmly on the ledge, toes just barely jutting off. The breeze tickled at the hairs on the back of his neck, and he looked down at the world beneath him with a smile on his face.

Sam stared quizzically at the screen, almost nervously as well. He wasn’t sure where this was going.

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in, before swinging his trident back.

And then? Tommy flew.

With one pull from the trident, he was launched into the skies, soaring amongst the birds. His hair blew around wildly in the wind, and he let a wild laugh escape him, tears pricking at his eyes.

All at once, the tense fear in the room was replaced with overwhelming relief.

Quackity sank back into his chair, letting out a loud sigh and placing a hand over his chest.

“Damn kid is going to give me a heart attack…” He muttered, shaking his head. Karl grinned.

It was as if he was completely weightless, not tied down to a single thing. It was as if he’d been released from his shackles.

They watched as he flew, feeling a sort of lightness in themselves as well. They’d spent so long watching Tommy being beaten down that it felt liberating for them even just to be watching him fly so freely.

Quickly, however, he lost momentum, and began to fall.

Puffy tried not to let her anxiousness get the best of her. She saw the river beneath him. She knew he’d be fine.

Still, the nagging worry persisted.

Tommy looked down at the water below him, grinning, and with all his might, let out a scream. It was loud and piercing, and his voice cracked quite a few times and quite badly at that, but he cried out with his entire chest. He screamed until his lungs were empty and even beyond, stretching his arms out wide and letting himself plummet.

A few of them cringed at the noise, but Quackity all out beamed, letting out a quiet breathless laugh of his own.

Tommy sounded so real in that moment, allowing himself to scream and just- yell. It was comparable to nails on a chalkboard, sure, but to Quackity it was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard.

He landed in the river with a loud splash, rocketing into deep and murky waters. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of the fish fleeing him in terror, and he laughed loudly, despite being underwater.

George grinned at the sight, letting out a tiny chuckle.

Paddling upwards, he breached the surface, giggling as he took deep breaths. He didn’t hesitate, however, to throw his arm back once more, going flying into the air once again.

Tommy soared in the sky, laughing at the sun on his skin. Tears pricked at his eyes once again, but that time it wasn’t from the wind on his face.

For some reason, despite everything they’d watched, it was the sight of Tommy finally being happy that brought them to tears.

They’d watched him die and they’d watched him struggle to stay alive, but they’d never watched him live.

The sight of him so high in the air, so light, well, it was somehow the most tear-provoking moment yet.

Puffy smiled at the screen, tears streaming down her face as she laughed with him.

“We’re free!” He cried, eyes welling up further with tears as he smiled, “We’re actually free!”

Tubbo grinned ear to ear, letting out a breathless huff and watching completely engrossed.

Ranboo continued to run his clawed hand through Tommy’s hair, smiling softly with gentle eyes.

Trident in hand, he let himself fall once more. Grinning to himself and screaming again as he plummeted into the water.

When he resurfaced, he let himself laugh, floating on his back and staring up at the sky. He laid there for what could have been hours, merely looking up.

“I’m finally free.” He whispered to himself, smiling with eyes that seemed to look almost… blue.

The screen went dark.

A silence completely unique to every other washed over the room. The audience was completely quiet, as if almost stunned by the display.

“Imagine what a pain he’d be with actual wings.” Fundy hummed, laughing quietly to himself. A few others laughed alongside him, and Phil seemed to grow almost sad at the words, quickly steeling himself over as if it’d never happened.

As they sat in amicable chatter, a complete warmth having spread across them, Ranboo couldn’t help but look down at the blond.

Immediately, however, he froze. His heart sunk, eyes widening and breath catching in his throat.

The words I’m finally free rang in his mind as his gaze scanned across the sunken cheeks and the barely healed scar across the bridge of Tommy’s nose, as he stared at the bags beneath Tommy’s eyes and the split lip. All things that hadn’t been there in the memory they’d just watched.

Ranboo swallowed back bile, staring down at the younger, and held on a little tighter.

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thank u guys for reading!! only a few more chapters to go!! we're reaching the end oh my god. it's so crazy to me that its actually ending in just a few weeks. i know so many of you have been here for MONTHS and i love u all so much for it :( ur all so so great for the unending support and love. i appreciate u guys sooooo much :D <3