#i am once again speedrunning a ficlet and posting it unedited

[onecanonlife]

Tommy is alive. Sam just about has a heart attack.

(word count: 774)

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He hears Tommy’s voice.

It’s impossible, of course. But he hears it, lined with anger and desperation, and suddenly it’s two days ago, and Sam is rushing through the prison, following the sounds of his screams, and he doesn’t make it in time.

Never again.

Protocol flies out the window, Ranboo’s choked, grieving words ringing in his ears. He lowers the lava, terrified of what he’s about to find. The most likely explanation is a hallucination, of course, which makes this an incredibly stupid move, but he still hears it, still hears him, and he’s nowhere near capable of rational thought, because his mind keeps flickering back to that voice calling for him, shouting in pain, and then that sudden, dreadful silence.

Never again.

The lava drops, and—

He’s there.

By every god he knows and by Prime themself, he’s there. Staring at him, something wild in his eyes. Covered in dried blood, but apparently whole, unharmed.

“Tommy,” he gasps out, and then he’s on the platform, crossing the divide, and Tommy is right there. And Dream is too, observing from the far wall, a terrible smile playing about his lips, but Sam doesn’t have time for that. Not when Tommy is here. Not when Tommy is alive, and he doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand at all, not when that message went out for the whole server to see, not when he yelled at Dream for hours and Dream just laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Hi, Sam,” Tommy says, and he sounds so broken down, so exhausted in a way that Sam has never heard from him before, not even after that week of confinement, not even when begging to be let out.

“Prime, Tommy,” he says. He feels a little bit like getting down on his knees and begging for forgiveness. In lieu of that, he moves forward to grip him by the shoulders, to hug him, or anything, really, except Tommy flinches. Violently. And Sam stops in his tracks.

“It’s been kind of rough,” Tommy says. “Can I be let out now?”

“Yes,” Sam says. “Yes, of course. Tommy, I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve—”

Tommy smiles at him, but it’s a thin, wavering thing. There is something dark in his eyes, something haunted, something scared. “It wasn’t your fault, big man,” he says, and his voice is so hollow. Sam’s heart aches. “I’d just like to go now, thanks.”

“Of course,” he repeats, feeling numb, feeling useless, feeling like there’s nothing at all he can do to make this right. So he just holds out his hand for Tommy to take, if he wants, rather than initiating contact himself, and after a second, Tommy takes it, and his grip is crushing, bruising, but Sam doesn’t complain.

“Everyone’s going to be so glad to see you,” he says, leading him to the platform, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. But Tommy smiles again, and it seems just a little more genuine.

“I’m going to be glad to see everyone,” Tommy says. “It’s been—um. Too long.”

Any amount of time locked in the prison was too long. A week was far more than too long. Sam regrets everything so keenly, and perhaps that makes him the worst sort of hypocrite, but he can’t care right now. Tommy is here. Tommy is alive, and he doesn’t know how or why, but he can’t afford to look the gift horse in the mouth, because otherwise he’ll be reminded that this whole thing, was his fault in the first place, and he can’t go down that path right now when Tommy so clearly needs someone to lean on.

The platform starts moving. And Sam makes the mistake of looking back at Dream.

“I would’ve told you that everything was gonna work out,” Dream says softly, “if you’d asked.”

Sam turns his back on him, a chill running down his spine, and just catches the end of an expression of terror, pure and brutal, on Tommy’s face before he schools it again. Genuine terror, followed by a shaky breath. Sam watches, dread pooling in his heart and mingling with the horror of the past few days.

What did he do to you? he wonders, and finds he is scared of knowing the answer.

For now, though, Tommy is alive. That has to be enough. He hopes that’s enough, even though Tommy is trembling and dead-eyed and still holding his hand almost tight enough to break bones, like he’s scared that something awful will happen if he lets go.

Prime, Sam hopes that this will be enough.

He doesn’t know what to do if it’s not.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #awesamdude #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #/rp #dsmp spoilers #cw death mention #cw blood mention #cw implied abuse #i am once again speedrunning a ficlet and posting it unedited #i guess that's just what i do now #anyway i'm surprised the resurrection was that quick but also pls give me everybody's reactions i need them so bad #cat writes fic