Chapter Text
Tom was sitting at his desk, Minecraft already pulled up on one monitor and this stream's script pulled up on the other. This first part was obviously more scripted, since his face cam wasn't on to make people aware that he was reading anything, but there was still plenty of room for improv, as he and Wilbur liked it.
They were nearing the end of the conversation when Tommy first heard it. The chanting. It started faint, ignorable, then grew until it was all he heard. All he heard.
"Wilbur?" He could see his friend's discord profile lit up in call, but no noise. Nothing but the steady chant, growing louder, louder. He started to panic. "Wilbur? Will, mate, I- something's happening, I don't, I don't know, I hear this voice, I--"
And then his head felt like it was pushed under freezing water and he blacked out.
Tommy woke up slowly, blearily blinking his eyes open as someone called out his name.
"There you are," the voice soothed. It wasn't Wilbur. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."
Tommy, still half asleep, noticed one thing immediately: he wasn't in his bed. Or his chair, as he last remembered being. In fact, he was slumped against a wall, one that burned beneath his thin t-shirt that he most definitely was not wearing last. Needless to say, he was awake again within the second.
The next thing he noticed was the figure in front of him. It was green, but humanoid, and where its face would be was instead simply a white mask with a smiley face. It was wearing an orange jumper, and Tommy couldn't help but think about some art he saw of Dream in the prison of the SMP on twitter.
But this- no. That couldn't be Dream.
"Are you just gonna keep staring at me like that or are you gonna get up? Don't tell me death made you dumb. Well, dumber than you already are." He laughed, and Tommy blanched because god that really did sound like Dream, didn't it? But not like Clay, the one who'd plan streams with him and give him tips on writing assignments for college and who was currently in a battle with him over who could send the other the stupidest tiktok. No, this was Dream. The character. The villain.
Tommy pressed closer against the wall while Dream continued, "C'mon, dude, it's a mute joke. Get it? Because dumb- oh my god, nevermind. At least you're quiet now."
He went over to the other side of the cell, and Tommy watched with rapt attention as he dunked his hands into the cauldron. When Dream took them out, they ran a bit, diluted by the water, before reforming. He did it again, putting his hands under then pulling them out and watching, then repeated for a few minutes as Tom looked around the rest of the cell.
It looked just as it did on his computer, just… real. Real-er, he guessed. (How the fuck did he get here anyways?) The warmth from the lava at the entrance could be felt even from the far corner he sat in. Purple droplets gathered at the pointed edges of the obsidian in the ceiling and fell with quiet drips. He could feel some droplets seeping in through his shirt from where it was set behind him.
He turned back to Dream, who was still dunking his hands. Tom didn't know if he was washing them or if it was entertaining or what, but he cleared his throat, making Dream stop anyways.
"I do piss in that, you know."
Dream just chuckled, low. Tommy couldn't help the flash of fear that coursed through him at the sound (it was wrong, coming from his mouth like that, in this context, when Tommy wasn't sure there was a stream to perform for or an "after" of said stream where both could reassure each other that they didn't really mean it before laughing it all off). "There he is," Dream said. "The hell happened when you died that made you so quiet?"
Tommy looked down at his hands, then up at Dream, whose back was still turned. "Am I dreaming?"
The green man turned. Took a step forward. Tommy moved to go back, but only succeeded in making part of the rock poke through his shirt into his back. "Want me to pinch you to make sure?"
"Uh… sure?"
And then Dream punched him. Right in the face. Tommy gasped as images started to flash through his mind.
Dream standing above him, illuminated by the lava, one hand on Tommy's collar, pinning him up on the wall, the other wrapped in Tommy's hair as it brought his head back against the rock again and again and again--
Dream standing at the entrance of his hall of treasured items, his sword pressed against Tubbo's (Tubbo? Was that- it looked like him, but the clothes, the hair, the horns were wrong, wrong, wrong) throat as Dream shouted, giving the two an ultimatum--
Him and Dream standing on thin paths of obsidian, watching as L'manburg's final explosions finished off from dozens of blocks above--
Dream digging a hole in exile, so many holes, so many explosions--
Explosions--
Dream
Dream
"STOP NO PLEASE!" Tommy had hands in front of his face without even realizing, but Dream was already back on the other side of the cell, laughing.
"Oh the look on your face, Tommy!" Dream laughed harder before reaching up and wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye. "You look so… fun when you're scared. You should try it more often."
"I don't think I want to, thank you very much."
"Oh sure you don't. But hey, at least you know I was telling the truth now. The book was real. You're back now, Tommy. You're alive. Nobody else has died and come back."
Besides Jack Manifold, Tommy thought, but he supposed he wasn't supposed to know that. Top priority: surviving this conversation. How to do that? Being the character Dream expected him to be. Be TommyInnit, Traumatized Annoyer Extraordinaire™, then wait for Dream's back to be turned to he can figure out how the fuck to get home. (Because he sure as hell wasn't dreaming, if that punch was anything to go by.)
He already had this stream planned out, so he knew what he needed to say, how he needed to act. And to be honest, it wasn't too hard to fake fear in this place. He yelled and flinched in all the right places, screamed at Dream to make sure he knew that Tommy didn't want Wilbur back. Only for Dream to do the exact opposite because of course--
Wait. Tommy froze. If he revived me, and I'm here now, then maybe if he revives Will…
"Dream. In all seriousness. Do not bring Wilbur back. I'll do anything, just- please--" Tom exaggerated his pleas, stooping so low as to beg. Nausea started to crawl up his gut at the way Dream just laughed.
"Tommy, nothing you say is going to stop me, you get that?"
And Tommy could barely keep his smile in. Yeah, he did get that. He got that loud and clear.
It took a day and a half for Dream to stop. A day and a half of pure abuse, physical and mental. And what was Tommy going to do against it? He wasn't a trained fighter. He was a fucking Minecraft streamer, that's literally on the opposite end of the spectrum.
He just wanted to go home. He wanted to be able to curl up in his bed and cry without Dream laughing at him from the other side of the cell. He wanted the stream to be over, dammit, he wanted to unwind and take off his persona and take a nap.
Dream asleep looked… weird. He climbed into the chest and let his blobulous form completely melt, making a weird green soup inside the box. Tommy opened it to make sure he was gone; the mask stared up at him, but said nothing. He closed the chest.
He went back over to the front of the cell, where the lava was. It was warm; he liked it there. Sitting down, he dug around in his pockets for something, anything, until he pulled out what looked like a flimsy smartphone. He turned it on to see what was essentially game chat. It was a comms system.
Frantic now, he hit the message box and typed as quickly as he could.
You whisper to Awesamdude: sam sam SAM SAM SAM
You whisper to Awesamdude: DREAM RESSURECETEDD NE HELP HELP
You whisper to Awesamdude: GET ME OUT PLEASE SAM I NEED YOU NOW PELASE HLEP
You whisper to Awesamdude: SAM
You whisper to Awesamdude: IM ALIVE
Tommy stared at the comms, his breathing rushed. He felt like he had just run a marathon, and he was on high alert as he glanced back over at the chest. Dream was still asleep. Good.
Awesamdude whispers to you: Wait, what?
You whisper to Awesamdude: THIS IS SERIOUS SERIOUSLY BIG MAN HELP
Awesamdude whispers to you: I'm coming, I'll be there as quick as I can. Dont worry.
Awesamdude whispers to you: Please stay safe. I'll be there soon and I'll get you out, I promise
Tommy could almost cry. He'd been doing it enough these past day or so anyways, it wasn't too hard.
He was safe. Or, well, he would be safe. And from there he'd be able to go home. Hopefully.
Dream reformed a few minutes later, and he walked over to where Tommy was still curled up by the entrance. He nudged the boy with his foot. Tommy didn't respond.
"You know, I don't get why you keep sitting over here," the man said. "Nobody's coming for you."
Tommy hid his smirk, instead curling further in on himself. "'s warm."
Dream hummed, then put his arm out and stuck his hand in the lava. Tommy's breath caught in fear as he watched his hand melt and reform, just like it had in water.
"I don't think it's too hot," said Dream. "Why don't you try?"
Tommy shook his head. "The fuck, dude? Why the hell would I do that?"
Dream didn't move, but the boy could tell he was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He shrugged. "I told you, it's not that hot."
"Yeah and I'm Philza Minecraft. I'm not a fucking idiot, you know. I still have common sense, Will knocks it into me often enough."
Dream started to say something, but he was interrupted by a loud thunk of gears starting to move. He stepped back, arms raised defensively as he looked around wildly. "The fuck," he hissed. "What. The fuck. Did you do?" He turned to Tommy at the last word, seething with rage.
Dream started to surge forward in an attack only to stumble back into the main cell as the netherite row shot up, diving the two and keeping Dream in. Tommy was the one to laugh now.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!" Dream was growing, his green body literally boiling with rage. Tommy froze, stepping back with wide eyes. "I'LL FUCKING-- YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"
Tommy took another step back, the imposing heat of the lava at his back. He felt it bubble up and singe his shirt, then his back as it burned through. He winced.
And then it was gone. He turned to see the lava down and the bridge already on his side of the chasm. He stepped on with a breathless laugh, then turned and gave Dream the middle finger as he walked away.
Halfway across, he turned back around to the front just in time to see a figure step out into the area where the bridge would land. They were a furry, green, centaur-type creature, with the face of a creeper. They wore armor on both their upright chest and the chest that made up their main body, and had a thin ringlet of gold in their hair, almost like a crown. They held a trident.
Is this Sam? Because if so, holy shit is Sam badass here. Oh my god.
Then they spoke. Their voice was soft, unsure. "Tommy?"
And yep, that was Sam. "Hey, big man. Sorry about the, uh. The dying. I guess." Tom winced. Not a good impression, but hey, give him a break, he'd been acting before a madman for the past two days. He didn't ask for this.
"I-" Sam laughed. "Tommy, and I mean this in every way possible, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, dude."
Tommy watched as probably a thousand different emotions went through Sam's face at once and winced. Probably not the best thing to say, in all honesty. Instead of saying anything more, he turned back to Dream, who was still screaming.
"YOU WANT TO LEAVE?!" Dream's mad shouts echoed throughout the empty room. Tommy huddled closer to Sam's steady form. "NO, YOU--" Dream cut himself off with a laugh. "NO! YOU REALLY WANT TO GO BACK OUT THERE?! WITHOUT ME? I'd love to see you try. You said you don't want Wilbur back? You said he'll ruin everything? NO! HE'LL- HE'LL BE PERFECT! JUST YOU WATCH!" And then he started chanting. And glowing, a green light started to fill the space.
Sam took a step back, brows furrowed. "What is he doing?"
"I don't- I don't know. I think he might- I think he's resurrecting Wilbur." Tommy looked up at the centaur, trying not to let his hope shine through. Now was not the time to show weakness, not when Dream could still see them. "We should probably get the fuck outta here."
"Yeah, probably. Get on my back, you look… I don't think you should be walking on your own right now."
Tommy nodded, then scrambled up on his back. The armor underneath him was uncomfortable; it clearly wasn't meant for riding. A small voice in the back of his head said that this was for a reason, nobody rode Sam's back. This was special. (Dream's chants, which steadily increased in volume as the two turned and left, didn't exactly help the moment, though.)
"C'mon kid, let's get you home."