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A Waltz with Death

Summary:

Some stories say that Theseus was killed by Lycomedes, who shoved him off a cliff. Other stories say that it was Theseus who threw himself over the edge. In his story, Tommy supposed his death would be a mixture of both. Maybe Dream had told him to, but it was Tubbo’s hands who guided him to the edge of the cliff, exiling him from his home, his everything. It would be Tommy who would take the step over the edge.

 

 
TW// suicide, torture, depression death

Notes:

TW for
-suicide
-depression/self-deprecating thoughts
-torture
-manipulation
-death

If any CC's want me to take this down I will- no questions asked

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

Work Text:

Some stories say that Theseus was killed by Lycomedes, who shoved him off a cliff. Other stories say that it was Theseus who threw himself over the edge. In his story, Tommy supposed his death would be a mixture of both. Maybe Dream had told him to, but it was Tubbo’s hands who guided him to the edge of the cliff, exiling him from his home, his everything. It would be Tommy who would take the step over the edge.

 

He had done everything right. Sure, he had made the mistake of burning George’s house down, but he had done everything Dream had asked of him. Now, all that he had left of Logstedshire was the prime log and pictures of Tubbo. 

 

It would be so easy to run to Technoblade and ask him for help. Easy to ask him to protect him. Easy to take resources, and time, and space from someone who didn’t even like him. But Tommy has never been one for doing the easy thing, and he couldn’t bring himself to face Technoblade either. Despite all the help he’s given Tommy in the past, whenever he looks at Techno all he can see are the flashes of fireworks as Tubbo pleads for his life and the glowing eyes of the wither as they kill him over and over and over again. 

 

Death was a fickle thing on the server. It’s true that everyone had three lives, but you could die many times over before experiencing a Death. Death was only achieved by intent. Only If a person kills you will killing intent will you experience Death. 

 

Tommy considered himself an expert on Death (after all he had experienced it twice, once to a betrayal, and once more to stand up for what he believed in). He had held Death’s hand and waltzed into the abyss only to scream when he was ripped away from eternal peace. Death may be a peaceful experience, but respawning was something worse than hell. At first, there’s nothing except cool darkness and then every molecule, every atom is ripped apart and put back together. There’s no time in the void and so while respawning may take only a matter of seconds, it feels like years. There have been many times where Tommy has respawned screaming, nails digging deep into his flesh in an effort to make the pain stop. Of course, he always makes sure there’s no one around when this happens to him, he refuses to show weakness to anyone and no one else seems to have a problem with respawning like him. 

 

Tommy shook himself out of his thoughts and looks over at the broken nether portal, the obsidian glistening in the sunlight. All it would take to fix it was one piece of obsidian. One piece of obsidian and it could be over. One piece of obsidian and the world would be free from the burden he placed on it. One piece of obsidian and he was free to dance with Death once more. 

 

He pulled out a picture of Tubbo and stared down at his smiling face. A face that would never again smile at him. Droplets of water splashed down onto the picture, smudging the ink. 

 

I’m crying? Tommy wondered. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had cried. He gazed back at the photo, his tears had smudged it and he could barely make out Tubbo’s blue eyes.  Tommy wiped away his tears and let the tearstained photograph flutter to the ground.

 

He had made up his mind. He took a deep breath and began to walk. 

 

He had no destination in mind. All Tommy needed was iron and lava and while he could look for those closer to Logstedshire he couldn’t bear to be in the place where he was tormented for weeks. 

 

Night fell and still, Tommy walked. Monsters lurked about him, but he no longer cared. Oddly enough they didn’t bother attacking him almost as if they knew he was already dead inside.

 

Sometimes parts of him would yearn to go back, back to Dream. I’m the only one who cares about you, Tommy. Tommy knew that Dream didn’t really care for him, but that didn’t stop the ache in his chest and the flutter of guilt when he thought of the masked man. Whenever these thoughts flitted through his brain Tommy would punch a tree over, and over until his knuckles bled and the tree was reduced to a pile of logs.

 

Carefully Tommy crafted a crafting table and a pickaxe. He tucked them away into his inventory and resumed his walk. He walked until the sun rose and set and rose and set until he finally reached the opening of a cave. Grinning, Tommy stepped into the darkness.

 

He ventured downward, mining cobblestone and coal as he went. A flash of green in the corner of his eye and suddenly he was back in front of Dream. 

“Dream I’m sorry I’m so sorry please- please don’t hurt me,” Tommy begged. He pulled everything out of his inventory and sank to the floor, eyes squeezed shut and back pressed to the wall. There was silence. Silence was never good. Silence meant that Dream was mad and if Dream was mad that meant he would- 

 

“TOMMY GIVE ME YOUR STUFF!” Dream roared.

 

“No,” Tommy stubbornly replied, jutting out his chin in an act of defiance.

 

The blank eyes of Dreams mask stared at him, its friendly smile looking more and more sinister by the second. “Well then I guess I’ll just have to make you,” Dream said, and Tommy could practically hear the grin he knew Dream was wearing on his face. Dream pulled out a sword, the enhancements glowing.

 

“What- What are you doing Dream?” Tommy asked, taking a small step backward. Dream was silent as he marched forward. “NO NO DREAM STOP PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” Tommy could feel his health getting lower and he closed his eyes, ready to experience Death. Instead, a cool relief flowed through him, and Tommy could feel his health return. He opened his eyes and Dream held up a health potion.

 

“Can’t have you dying on me yet right Tommy?” Dream asked and before Tommy could respond Dream was on him again, his sword slicing through what little armor he had on and cutting deep into his skin. Despite how much Tommy screamed and begged, Dream would give him another potion of health and start again until finally, finally, Tommy threw his things on the ground. “Good boy Tommy,” Dream said, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “I hope you remember this lesson because you know what will happen if you don’t listen to me.” His grip tightened on Tommy’s hair and Tommy yelped in pain.

 

Tommy gasped, eyes flying open and darting around the cave trying to find Dream.  The cave was empty except for a lone creeper in the corner, hissing as it walked around. 

 

“FUCK!” Tommy shouted as he picked up his belongings. He tried to remember a breathing exercise Wilbur taught him before everything went to shit. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4. Tommy chanted as he tried to regulate his breathing. He had thought he was better, but he guessed what Dream had done to him would never truly leave. He may not have physical scars, Dream was always careful about that, but the mental scars cut deep.

 

He punched the wall in frustration, the bits of iron ore cutting into his already sore fists. Wait iron? Tommy wondered. A small smile found itself on Tommy’s face as he began mining the iron with renewed vigor. He allowed himself to zone out as he crafted a furnace and began smelting the iron. The light of the furnace went out and Tommy blinked in surprise at the amount of time that had passed without him realizing it. He gathered the iron ingots and crafted a bucket and flint and steel. Taking a deep breath, Tommy ventured further into the cave.

 

The cave was pitch black. His torch didn’t provide much light and the slightest sounds sent his heart rate to skyrocket and his pulse to quicken. 

 

“Oh, Tommy!” Dream grinned, his mask smiling emptily at Tommy. Tommy froze his whole body locking up in fear. “Want to play a game?”

 

“No- no thanks big man,” Tommy stuttered.

 

Dream cocked his head in amusement. “Oh Tommy,” Dream sighed, ‘That wasn’t a request.” Dream moved quickly, pulling out a bowl of suspicious stew. He lunged forward and grasped Tommy’s hair and forced his head back. “Say ahhhh” Dream said as he forced the soup down Tommy’s throat. 

 

It was cold and bitter, and Tommy blinked. And blinked again. Everything was dark. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t s e e. “Help,” Tommy croaked, reaching out in an attempt to grab anything for support. 

 

“Ok ready Tommy?” Dream asked, although both knew it wasn’t a question. There was the sound of a crossbow bolt being slotted into place. “Now then, try to dodge!” There was a TWANG! and Tommy stumbled to the left. 

 

“Wow! I’m impressed, Tommy!” Dream exclaimed. “Let’s keep going!

 

“No no Dream why are you doing-“Tommy cut off as the twang of the crossbow rang out. White-hot pain exploded across his shoulder. Tommy screamed, but Dream’s laughter could still be heard over top. Another twang and a woosh of air and Tommy crumpled through the ground. 

 

“Oh, wow look at that Tommy, I think that’s bone!” Dream poked at the bolt wedged in Tommy’s ankle and Tommy screamed again unable to see, unable to move. 

 

Dream ripped the crossbow bolt out of his ankle and shoulder and the world s p u n. Dream laughed again. “Awww Tommy are you hurt? It’s okay, I can help you.” 

 

Tommy was able to blink the darkness away from his vision. “Nonono Dream not a regen potion please- “ 

 

The thing about regeneration potions is that they were extremely helpful for smaller injuries such as bruises and cuts. They were best taken before a battle, able to heal up any wounds you got during it. However, there was one major flaw with regeneration potions; they were unable to heal broken bones in the proper position if they weren’t set first. 

 

Tommy’s vision went white with pain as his shrieks echoed off the walls. His eyes drifted shut, and he slumps to the ground unconscious. 

 

Tommy blinks and stares at the crimson flames. I’m okay. Tommy thought to himself. Dream isn’t here. His torch was almost burned out and Tommy quickened his pace as he walked downward.

 

His torch burned lower and lower and soon it no longer cast shadows along the wall of the cave. Tommy rounded the corner and there it was, light. He stumbled towards it, trying to run but his legs were too weak from malnourishment. 

 

The warmth of the lava melted away all of Tommy’s bad memories. The sight of its beautiful scarlet drew him in whispering come closer, come closer. A bubble burst and Tommy became aware of how close he was to the edge. He knelt down and pulled the bucket out of his inventory. With trembling hands, scooped up a bucket of it. He tucked it away in his inventory so he wouldn’t burn himself.

 

Tommy looked toward the way he came. It was dark. The darkness seemed to crawl towards him and with a gasp, Tommy turned to look at the light from the lava.

 

He had no torches, no way to light the path in front of him. Unless… I could use the bucket of lava to light my path. Tommy thought to himself. Carrying a bucket of lava was dangerous, if he tripped or stumbled, the lava could spill, and would quickly burn his unprotected body. There was a rush of adrenaline, and Tommy had once chased adrenaline- running and leaping close to the edges of life.

 

Now he was too tired to do that, but he still remembered the feeling.

 

There was once a time when Tommy could have carried the bucket with one hand. A time when he was stronger. A time when he was loved and among friends. But Dream is your friend. The traitorous part of him whispered. Logically, Tommy knew he probably had Stockholm syndrome. He knew that dream had tortured him both physically, and emotionally. But it didn’t change the fact that Tommy wanted to please him, wanted to do right for him. It didn’t change the fact that Tommy knew that it was his fault, his actions, that made Dream act out on him.

 

His knuckles shone white as he gripped the bucket with two hands and slowly carried it to the surface. Every now and then he would have to pause so the lava didn’t splash over the edge and burn him. He wanted it to burn him. 

 

It was a slow process, but Tommy didn’t mind. After all, it’s not like anyone would go looking for him. Not even Tubbo whom he loved with all his heart. They were best friends, soulmates, and he thought that their friendship could overcome anything. He was wrong. He could practically feel the needle of the compass Your Tubbo, pointing him towards his best friend. 

 

Lava splashed over the edge, and just barely missed Tommy's foot. He froze, that was close, he thought to himself. Tommy continued onwards, putting one foot in front of the other, and he journeyed upwards.

 

He lost track of time, it was just him, the quiet popping of lava, and the occasional groan or hiss of monsters lurking in the darkness. 

 

Light shone onto the ground in front of him and Tommy couldn’t help but grin. The grass was emerald, and the sun’s hues were golden. It was a beautiful day to die.

 

Tommy soaked in the scenery as he trekked back to his broken nether portal. He had worn holes in his shoes, but he didn’t care as the long grass tickled his feet. He still clutched the bucket, its warmth grounding him as he made the journey back. 

 

The trip back seemed to go shorter. Maybe it was because he knew where he was going or maybe it was because he had accomplished his goal. Maybe it was because he was desperate to go back and see Dream. 

 

His legs shook as he climbed over a small hill. Once, he would have been able to do it easily with a hop, skip, and a jump and a smile on his face. Now he clung to his bucket of sizzling magma, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms, and was barely able to lift his legs high enough to climb. 

 

It was light enough that he could have put his bucket away. The sun was high and smiled down on him. But his bucket was his lifeline. When he was too light and felt as though he’d float away into the sun, the heat from the lava would bring him back down to the earth, anchoring him. When his hands shook and thoughts swirled with Dream Dream Dream is my only friend Dream Dream is the only one who ever cared about me, the bucket would tip slightly and with a burst of scarlet as it hit the ground near his foot, he would startle and his mind would be wiped clean of any thought of an ivory mask, smiling at him from the darkness. 

 

He reached the top of the hill and there it was. Gleaming in the sunlight, stood his broken nether portal. His whole body shook, with exhaustion or relief Tommy didn’t know, and he made his way down the hill.

 

The portal loomed above him, its obsidian humming with untapped power. Tommy placed a block of cobblestone and poured the lava next to it. He hurriedly raced over to the ocean and scooped up a bucket of water, pouring it into the lava. With a hiss, the block of lava replaced the gaping hole that Dream had created. 

 

Tommy wouldn’t call himself a pyromaniac, but he’d always loved fire. He loved the way it glowed, blue, orange, red, and yellow, dancing merrily with each other. He loved the way it sounded, sparks popping and the gentle crackle as it burned something. He loved the way it ate away at George’s house crimson, orange, gold, and blue, climbing higher into the sky, leaving nothing but soot and ash behind. With how much Tommy loved fire, it was of no surprise he was experienced with flint and steel. He gave an expert flick of his wrist, the steel sparking and throwing it out of his grasp. 

 

I really have gotten weaker, Tommy thought to himself. He made himself pick up the flint and steel and he paused to stare at his hands. They were read from the heat of the lava and trembled ever so slightly. Once, twice, and a third time Tommy struck the flint until sparks flared and lit the portal with a woosh. Ancient magic hummed in the air, so strong Tommy could almost taste it. Tommy gazed through the purple haze of the portal, at what was once Logstedshire. He had never considered it his home, yet it still hurt to have it suddenly torn away, blown to pieces. Just like L’manberg. Just like Tubbo’s body at the execution.

 

He closed his eyes as he stepped into the portal, not wanting to see the ruined sights of where he had lived. The magic hummed and swirled around him, growing louder before reaching its crescendo and depositing him onto the nether surface. 

 

The heat from the nether wrapped itself around him like a warm blanket. It was something he had grown accustomed to during his time in exile. Tommy stared out at the cobblestone path leading towards, L’manberg, leading towards Tubbo. 

 

“It points you in the direction of Your Tubbo at all times,” Wilbur Ghostbur said with a smile. He held out a compass that glowed with enchantments.

 

Tommy turned himself away and faced out towards the lava. He peered over the edge and watched as a bubble formed, and then burst with bits of orange spattering in the air. Tommy reached into his inventory and pulled out a stack of cobblestone and began to tower.

 

The heat from the nether drenched him in sweat and made his clothes stick to his skin. Still, Tommy towered high and higher, as the ground got farther, and farther away. There would be no going back from this, but Tommy didn’t want to go back. There was nothing to go back to. Tubbo had abandoned him. Wilbur was dead. Eret and Technoblade had both betrayed him.  Dream was his only friend. Dream had manipulated him.

 

With the last of his cobblestone, Tommy built a small platform atop his tower. “Last time boys,” he said to himself. He pulled out the prime log and the prime bell. “Twitch Prime!” He exclaimed to the empty air. Tommy looked down from his tower to the bubbling lava below.

 

And in the glowing surface of the magma, he saw her. Death smiled at him, her eyes full of sorrow. She held out her arms and 

Tommy 

           stepped

                        over        
                                   the

                                            edge.

 

In the moment he fell, tumbling through the humid air, Tommy supposed that maybe Technoblade had gotten his myth wrong. Because at that moment he was Icarus, soaring on wings made from wax and feathers and he was laughing. The air was warm, and he smiled even as his wings melted under the heat. He smiled as he went from Icarus back to Theseus back to Tommy. 

 

Tommy who laughed as he stepped over the edge.

 

Tommy with a wide grin and innocent eyes. 

 

Tommy who was a child and had been in two wars, putting his life on the line for his friends- his family.

 

Tommy who had been betrayed by everyone he had called a friend. 

 

Tommy who fell from his tower of cobblestone into the warmth of the lava and Death’s waiting arms. 

 

This time when he waltzed with Death into the abyss there would be no wrenching pain as he respawned, no intense agony of being pulled apart and put back together. 

 

This time, there was only peace and the bubbling of magma. 

 

TommyInnit tried to swim in lava. 

 

 

Notes:

I cannot believe I just wrote fanfiction for MINECRAFT BLOCK MEN

I hope y'all enjoyed that

I might- MIGHT write another chapter where Tommy comes back as a ghost- so if you want to see that let me know 

  Please leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it

I might not respond to all of the comments but I promise I read every single one
^-^