[R] Dreams Of Something Else (Tommy-centric)

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(A/N: request as a pic. uhh okay this change might not be popular but I've uhhhh decided not to do anymore genderbends. no I will not say why but like,,,, yeah I guess. I'll finish up the rest of the requests with genderbent characters, and then I'll stop doing them, sounds fair. yeah okay great let's move on)

"Hello, Tommy," Miss Erin says to him kindly. Tommy shifts nervously in his seat.

He's not exactly sure why he's in the counsellors office, especially because he's pretty sure he didn't do anything wrong. His art teacher had just told him to come here after she looked at his drawing, and he doesn't get why. Is it because his drawings are too bad?

"Hello," he mumbles, as a response.

"Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong," Miss Erin assures him, and Tommy relaxes. He's glad he didn't do anything wrong by accident. He doesn't want to make his parents sad. "However, me and your art teacher are concerned over a particular drawing of yours."

At that, Tommy sits up ramrod straight, a small frown on his face. What did he draw?

The answer is given to him when Miss Erin slides a piece of paper onto the table. Tommy recognises the drawing, because it's the one he made today, and it's also the one that got him sent here in the first place.

The paper is split into ten different boxes. The first one has a green stick figure with a smiley face and a yellow stick figure with an arrow sticking out of its body. The second one has a bunch of vaguely drawn people in one room, with one person wearing glasses and standing over a small button. The third has a small figure in a box, with a pig pointing a gun at them.

The fourth has a crudely drawn but scary man with a scary smile. Tommy's proud of this one the most, because it looks really detailed. The fifth one shows another pig, this time with a crown, and three black skulls behind it. The sixth has a green stick figure with huge wings and a brown figure with a long jacket and a sword through its body. The seventh has a really pretty drawing of a destroyed landscape, kind of like the pictures he sees on the TV but also not.

The eighth shows a yellow stick figure standing above a sea of fire. The ninth shows another destroyed landscape, but even worse than before. The tenth has the same green and yellow figures as the first box, but this time there's also a light green one standing besides the yellow figure.

Tommy looks up from the drawings, and sees Miss Erin still staring at him with a gentle smile. "Yeah?" he asks. "It's my drawing."

"Right," Miss Erin says. "But why did you draw those things, Tommy? They aren't exactly... normal."

Tommy looks back down at his drawings, and looks back up with a small frown. "Uh huh. They're from my dreams."

"Your dreams?"

Tommy nods enthusiastically, finally having a chance to talk about his cool dreams. "Yeah! See, the first one is from when a stupid green man shot me, but that's okay, because I got inde-pan-dance for my dream country later! And then this one's from when me and my best friend confronted the stupid green man and we sent him off to jail. And this one- I like this one the most, because it looks really cool and scary, and this is the man that blew up the country later. It was really scary but so cool! And this one-"

"I get it, Tommy," Miss Erin interrupts, and Tommy pouts. "Those are very... interesting dreams that you have."

"Thank you!" he chirps, because Mum always taught him to say 'thank you' when someone compliments him.

"I'll have to talk to your parents about this, but don't worry, you're not in trouble," Miss Erin says gently. "Just remember that these... 'dreams' that you have are fake, okay? Nobody in them can hurt you. Understand."

Tommy nods. "I know, Miss!"

Strangely, despite his words, he realises he feels... sad. He doesn't tell Miss Erin about it, and he's eventually dismissed from the counsellor's office.

He makes a note to himself to not draw those again. Both his art teacher and Miss Erin don't seem to like them, so others probably wouldn't, either.

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