Chapter Text
Tommy has killed 36 people.
The weapon in Tommy’s hands does not shake. It is steady, almost impossibly so, and Tommy will not miss his target. This is a fact that he knows. He knows the sun will rise, he knows the tide will leave, he knows he will hit his shot; Tommy is incapable of missing. He is perfect.
It's his job to be perfect, and without this job, Tommy is nothing, so his hands are steady.
He remembers the names of all 36 people. Not because he feels remorse or guilt, in all honesty, Tommy doesn't think he can feel. He remembers because no one else will. No one but him.
James Richard. This is a name Tommy will never forget, because, at the very least, he can remember him. At the very least he can remember his name.
He pulls the trigger.
"37" Tommy has killed 37 people.
— —
“Tommy, can you run this down to office five?”
Tommy snaps his head up from his computer, nodding blearily and standing up. He takes the manilla folder from Dream’s hand, walking away and out of the room before Dream gives him something else to do.
The office building is quiet this far into the night, just the buzz of the lights above him and the muffled sounds of computer keys tapping are the only thing audible. Tommy presses the down button on the elevator, stepping in and covering his mouth as he yawns. He stares blankly at the metal wall in front of him as the elevator moves, his warped reflection staring back at him. Before he can analyze the way his eyes are a chasm of emptiness or the way his skin is taught around his bones, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open, and he steps out into the second level of the building.
His footsteps mock him as he walks down the empty hallway to office five, and his knuckles protest as he lightly knocks against the door.
“Come in.” A tired voice sounds from the other side, and Tommy twists the handle.
The man on the other side leans back and smiles. “Tommy! How are ya?”
His face remains blank. “I’m fine.”
The man’s black hair falls in front of his face as he shakes his head. The white fabric he has tied around his hairline moves with him where it’s knotted in the back, the loose strings falling over his neck. “C’mon, lighten up Toms, you get to go home soon.”
Tommy drops the file onto the desk separating them. “We’ll see. Goodnight Sapnap.”
Sapnap frowns as he slides the file towards himself, looking at Tommy with a deeper sort of sadness in his eyes. “Goodnight Tommy.”
The door had already clicked shut.
Tommy gets back upstairs to Dream’s office to see him collecting his documents and carefully sorting them into folders. Tommy smothers the flicker of hope in his chest. He looks up at Dream, staring carefully at his shirt. Dream apparently feels the eyes on him, because he sighs and says, “Yes?”
“Are we going home?” Tommy asks, keeping his tone neutral, but Dream still flicks his eyes to Tommy’s face, a hard glint in them.
“Do you want to go home?” Dream asks, his voice clear and so frustratingly even. Tommy can never tell what he’s thinking. Fortunately, he knows it’s a trick question.
“I go home whenever you go home, I know that.” Tommy shrugs, and Dream stares at him for another few seconds before looking away and resuming his packing.
Tommy waits patiently, closing his own computer and shoving it in its case. Dream stands up after a little while, longer than it usually takes for him to pack up. Tommy recognizes the behavior and makes sure he looks completely content with staying.
“Alright. Let’s go.” Tommy follows after Dream, walking out of the huge office and watching Dream lock it behind them.
The walk is silent, as it always is, and Tommy makes sure to give a small wave to the secretary in the front lobby, who looks even more tired than Tommy does. The car waiting for them sits by the curb, sleek and rumbling, adding to the murmur of the city. They get in and the car slinks down the city streets, windows tinted enough that it’s hard to even see the street lights. Tommy sighs quietly and rests his head against the cool glass, but he can’t bring himself to close his eyes, Dream glancing over ever so often.
They arrive at Dream’s house in a matter of minutes, the large structure casting long shadows onto the sidewalk and onto Tommy’s body as he gets out of the car and steps towards the door. Dream pushes in the key and jiggles it, the door creaking open when it clicks.
“Make sure to be awake by five am.” Are Dream’s only words before setting his briefcase on the stand by the door and disappearing into the living room. Tommy nods to himself and drags himself up the stairs.
The house is huge, way too huge for two people, and its lonely atmosphere suffocates Tommy as he steps into his room. He flicks on the space heater Sapnap had gifted him when he first visited.
“It’s way too cold in here, what are you, a vampire? Jesus, I can see my own breath.”
Tommy almost smiles at the memory. Almost.
He wrestles his shirt off, muttering incoherent phrases to make the room feel less alone as he unlaces and slips off his shoes. Not even bothering with his pants, he slips on a red and white shirt and crawls into his bed.
Suddenly, it’s very, very quiet.
It’s quiet, and Tommy’s still alone.
— —
The eggs taste burnt as he shoves them in his mouth; Tommy’s never been a good cook. The toast is better and the black coffee he slurps down burns his tongue enough that he can’t taste it.
“Slow down.” Dream says quietly from across the table, engrossed in some papers laid out in front of him. Tommy nods even though he knows Dream isn’t looking, putting his fork down on his empty plate and quietly draining the last of the coffee.
“Do you have any questions for the day?” Dream asks softly.
“What are we doing today?” Tommy asks, drumming his fingers against his thigh as Dream looks up and settles his eyes on Tommy. He’ll never truly get used to that stare. He levels Dream’s glare, and his heart thunders as Dream sighs.
He’s disappointed, his head hisses at him, and Tommy silently shouts at it until it backs into the corner of his mind where it’s dark.
“I need to run diagnostics on our sales and rates, I have a meeting with associates at eight o’clock, and I have a public speaking session at two.”
Tommy nods, getting up and carrying his dishes to the sink. He runs his tongue over his top lip, feeling the scar that blends into his flesh there. It’s pale, barely noticeable, but it’s a stinging reminder of his past. Something he’s been trying to forget.
He washes his plate and his fork and puts them in the drying rack, turning around to Dream and scratching his fingernail over the counter, debating on opening his mouth or not.
“Who are the associates?”
Sometimes his tongue is quicker than his brain.
Dream is silent for a terrifying moment and for a second Tommy thinks he’ll just outright ignore him, but then he starts to answer in a voice that drips from his lips like honey.
“It's not like you to ask so many questions.” A silent warning. “If you must know, they’re from a different branch.” His tone is impassive as always. He doesn't even offer Tommy a glance from his work on the table.
Tommy knows what Dream is saying, however. The only people that Tommy’s allowed to meet are a small list of who work at the office with him or dead men. He's never allowed to talk to Dream's co-workers. He's heard the rumors of himself, the government's deadliest doll, loyal dog, child prodigy. He likes to think of himself as a tool, not a dog. But he can understand where the remarks are coming from. But still. He’s well known among the people Dream works with. So why is he still a secret?
It's not his place to know, he concludes. Dream’s a smart man, and he has his reasons.
The small window behind him shows the sky shifting into morning. The pale orange sunbeams breaking through the crisp blue sky have proven to be the brightest part of Tommy's days. He especially likes that there's almost never any red. He hates it when there is.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when Dream stands up. “Let's head in, are you ready to leave?”
“Of course.” Tommy walks back over to the table and begins to gather the papers Dream was working on, placing them back inside the folder. Dream takes it before moving towards the doorway.
The two shuffle out of the house, the only noise being Dream's shoes on the sidewalk. Tommy walks silently. The same car as yesterday, same as every day, pulls up in front of the house. The drive is silent too. Most of Tommy's life is quiet, he realizes. He lives quietly in the background, the world spinning in front of him, never for him to touch. It’s taunting, seeing people on the streets. Freely living.
“Our job is to help these people. They don't understand the world as we do. Without us, they would crumble, Tommy.” Dream had told him, passing the gun into his hands.
He doesn't remember how old he was, but he does remember that he was shaking.
“He was planning on ruining that for other people. He's a bad person, Tommy.” Tommy levels the gun at the man's head, fingers numb on the cool metal. He knows he won’t be able to remember what he looked like. He knows it wouldn’t matter anyway. Dream nods and Tommy pulls the trigger.
Tommy shakes off the memory as the car pulls into the parking garage next to the familiar office building. The small green numbers on the dashboard read 6:28 . Dream runs a hand through his hair, turning to face Tommy. “I have some work to finish up. Why don’t you check the security cameras and set up the perimeter?”
Tommy nods even though he knows it’s not a suggestion and gets out of the car. The air is cool in the garage, and his footsteps echo as he walks out into the bright sunlight. It’s suddenly hot, and his skin starts to warm under his black clothing. He can feel the cold of his gun at his hip, shifting with him as he walks around the electrical fence that guards the front of the building.
It's a simple routine, he can do it mindlessly at this point. Check-in with the morning shift officers, walk the perimeter, keep an eye out for anyone who looks out of place. Not many people do. It's rare to see anyone try to interrupt the work done here, they must have heard the rumors of him too.
In the guard's office, Callahan sits with his legs up on the desk as he idly scrolls through his phone. He’s wearing a pair of fake antlers today that Tommy finds quite amusing, not that he shows it. “ Good morning.” He signs towards the security guard, muscle memory returning to his fingers. “ Anything interesting happened so far?”
Callahan sets his phone down, “ Nope. Boring as usual. It's hot today, so walk in the shadows or something.” Callahan is kinder than most of the people Tommy knows. He makes sure Tommy is always comfortable in the five minutes he would see him, and he's always trying to make him laugh. It never works, but he did make him smile once. Callahan still counts it as a victory.
Tommy nods and leaves the room. Callahan was not kidding, and he is immediately made aware of the pressure from the sun. It was still early in the morning, and it only promised to get warmer. It's nothing he can't handle. He would probably just have to make his rounds quicker than usual if he didn't want to collapse. Dream hated when he did that.
The first thing he notices is a new car in front of the building. It’s a dark blue Jeep Liberty; not the kind of car you would usually see in front of a government office. Tommy narrows his eyes. It’s inside of the fence so it had to be someone who was supposed to be here.
Tommy turns around and goes back to Callahan’s station, feeling sweat collect on the back of his neck. “ Who arrived in the blue Jeep?” Tommy signs, and Callahan shrugs. “Just a couple of guys I think Dream was meeting, why?”
“Shit.” Tommy mutters and signs a sloppy goodbye to Callahan as he darts out of the office and across the lot. He has to check in with Dream before the meeting starts, he knows this. Tommy reaches the front door with ease, just a little out of breath as he pulls it open and runs into the air-conditioned lobby. He doesn’t bother with a wave to the secretary, just focusing on how he’s going to get out of this with Dream.
Logically, he knows it’s not his fault. The associates got here early, and he thought he had another half an hour. But he also knows that Dream won’t care, and Tommy’s heart starts to rabbit at the thought.
It’s fine, it would be fine.
“C’mon c’mon c’mon…” Tommy cracks his knuckles as the elevator goes up painfully slow. He considered taking the stairs, but Dream probably wouldn’t have been too happy if he keeled over in his office. The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and Tommy rushes down the hallway. Maybe he can still make it before Dream’s meeting starts.
He relaxes his face and pushes open the door. Tommy freezes as he looks up and meets three pairs of eyes. There are two people sitting in front of Dream’s desk, a man with a peculiar white stripe in his otherwise dark brown hair, and a woman with blonde hair that’s been tied into a high ponytail.
“Tommy.” Dream’s voice cuts through the air and Tommy straightens, ignoring the way his fingers twitch on the door handle. “You can wait until after the meeting, right?”
Tommy forces his face to go slack and he nods, starting to close the door.
“Oh no, it's alright I don't mind, Dream.” The man chuckles, either not noticing or completely ignoring the tension in the room. “Who are you anyway?” He turns back to look at Tommy, dark eyes intimidating.
“Ah, just an intern, That’s all.” Dream flicks his eyes towards the guy then back up to Tommy, plastering a rueful smile onto his face. “What was so important?”
Tommy’s mouth moves before he can think about it. “There was a blue Jeep outside, I needed to make sure that it was someone you wanted to see.” He swallows past the lump in his throat, resisting the urge to slam the door and run as far as he can when he sees Dream’s hand curl into a fist on his desk.
“You’re dismissed.”
Tommy nods jerkily. “Of course.”
He quietly shuts the door, avoiding the eyes of the guy who– for some reason –spoke up for him. He breathes out sharply and tries not to think about how badly he had just fucked up.