One more week

Three days till Chistmas

Dream's eyes widened as Tommy's bandaged arm came into view. Inside the tent, the younger boy was lying on top of his blankets on his bed, facing the wall. The entirety of his left forearm, from fingertips to elbow, was wrapped up with clean bandages, an indicator that this was a fresh injury. That, and the fact that it had definitely not been like that yesterday. Dream stepped closer and stood over Tommy. His eyes were closed.

"Tommy." The teen was dead still except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. There was no logical reason to it, but Dream's instincts told him that Tommy was awake.

Dream reached down, grabbed Tommy's wristed, and squeezed his fingernails into bandaged flesh.

Tommy yelped in shock, failed to shake his arm out of Dream's grasp, and rolled onto his back on his bed. His eyes were fearful and glazed over in pain, so Dream let go of him. The teen steadied his breathing and tenderly cradled his bandaged arm, empty stare boring into Dream's mask.

"What did you do, Tommy?" Dream stated, trying his best not to sound agitated. Clearly, his friend was in an especially fragile state. Tommy's eyes darted down to his arm, up at Dream, and back down before making the choice to stay silent once more. Dream sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Tommy..." The boy was keeping his gaze locked on his arm, and it looked like he was completely out of it. Dream saw now that he was trembling. Tenderly, he reached over and brushed Tommy's overgrown bangs out of his face. The teen didn't flinch at his touch, but he immediately looked up at him. Still holding his arm, Tommy sat up.

"Dream." That was all Tommy said, but it seemed he had fixated all his concentration onto the other man. Dream was starting to get an idea about what happened, but he needed to make Tommy confess to him.

"Yes, I'm here," he murmured, leaning in closer. "I need you to tell me, Tommy. I'm here for you. I'm not angry, I promise."

Dream waited patiently as silence filled the tent once more. As the older began to think of more ways to coax the truth out of Tommy, his train of thought was stopped as the kid slowly held out his bandaged arm.

Scooting even closer to him, Dream cautiously held Tommy's arm. The teen still looked like he wasn't going to speak, and that was when Dream was hit with a spark of brilliancy. He quietly took in a deep breath, used his free hand to pull back his hood, and reached for the clip on the back of his mask strap.

The white plate fell onto his lap, and Dream sighed contently as his face was freed from its usual stuffy breathing environment. He smiled warmly.

Tommy shot forward and buried his face into Dream's shoulder, his unbandaged hand gripping the back of the man's green hoodie while the other was pressed on lightly. Dream accepted the hug, embracing Tommy and rubbing circles on his back.

"It's okay, it's okay," Dream whispered, repeating the phrase. He felt Tommy shaking in his arms, but he wasn't crying.

"I was so cold," Tommy croaked weakly, speaking into the fabric of Dream's hoodie. "I just wanted to be warm, it was so hot and I thought I could feel it- I just, for just a second, I could... It hurt but i-it felt good, for a bit, but I was still so cold."

"What did you touch?"

"Th-the lava!" the teen choked out, squeezing his arms harder around Dream. The unmasked man brought a hand up to stroke Tommy's overgrown hair.

"Okay, okay, shhhh. Thank you for telling me. Does it still hurt?" Dream asked quietly. Tommy nodded into his shoulder. "Okay, it'll be fine. I've got potions to help make it feel better. I'm going to help you, okay? I'm here."

Dream shifted, getting ready to let go and get back up, but Tommy pulled him back.

"Warm..."

Dream's eyes widened. They stayed put in their hug for a while longer. Because of course, Tommy needed Dream.