{They're just Children! - BONUS}

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[TW // YELLING, REFERENCE TO SUICIDE & DEATH, REFERENCE TO POTENTIAL ED]

Tommy woke up to the sun shining in his eyes. He sighed softly, rolling out of bed and onto the dusty wooden floor. He forced himself up, ignoring his growling stomach, walking past his taunting reflections, to the outside. The day looked beautiful: white fluffy clouds, bright blue sky, and a glorious golden sun. Tommy took no joy in any of that, now. All he was waiting for was a visit from someone other than Dream. He killed his brothers. He took him from his home. He took away his reason to live. The strawberry-blonde found himself crying, walking towards the Nether portal. He stopped himself, shaking his head, and turned to walk away.

Suddenly, he heard someone come through the portal. Tommy turned around, expecting Dream, Sapnap, or Ghostbur. Instead, he got Sam, Puffy, and Philza. He sighed, turning his whole body to face the three adults. They all gaped at his appearance. He knew he looked horrible: so skinny the wind could blow him away, so pale like he's lived in a cave all his life, so bruised and scarred, dark bags under his eyes from sleepless nights filled with nightmares, and his eyes faded to a pale gray. Yea, he looked like shit.

"Toms," Phil whispered.

"Hey, Dad," Tommy said, venom dripping off of the word.

Phil was taken aback by this, but then sighed.

"Tommy, I know I wasn't there for you, but-,"

"Shut up! I don't wanna hear it!"

The man fell silent.

"You don't know what I've gone through! The pain I've had to go through... alone!" The teen yelled hoarsely, "I want to fucking die, but I made a promise to my brothers, and I'll keep it!"

Phil looked confused at the word "brothers."

"You only have one brother," He pointed out.

"Ranboo and Tubbo were more like brothers than Wilbur could ever be," Tommy whispered, "And Sam was a better father than you. I didn't need someone like you, who ditched his only alive son for his arsonist friend, to stand in front of me, and tell me everything's all sunsets and music, when all I can think of is pain,"

Everyone stayed silent for a moment, taking in all of the information.

"Tommy, please, let me redeem myself! I came here to help you!" Phil pleaded.

The teen didn't argue, looking at the ground. Sam and Puffy approached him, the sheep hybrid giving him a very missed, warm hug, and the creeper hybrid did the same, using one hand to card his fingers through the boy's hair. Tommy sighed, leaning heavily into the touches he missed dearly.

"Oh, you poor thing," Puffy whispered, noticing how thin he was, "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Puff, Ranboo and Tubbo are dead, because of Dr- me," The strawberry-blonde explained.

Puffy pulled back to look at the boy's face, but he didn't look up at her. She looked at Sam, and he looked at her. He sighed, looking back down at Tommy.

"Toms, whatever Dream has planted into your head is wrong," The creeper hybrid said.

"No, no, it's my fault. I wasn't strong enough, I couldn't protect them... I-I couldn't fight," Tommy started to cry, hiding his face.

Phil came closer to the group hug, and Puffy looked up at him. The teen followed her gaze up to his father, but this time he didn't curse him out. He moved away from the sheep hybrid, and walked over to his father, hugging him. Phil hugged back, curling his large black wings around his son.

"Dad... I'm so sorry," The teen sobbed.

"I know. I am too, Toms," Phil said, "How long have they been...?"

"I dunno anymore. Almost five months?"

Phil looked up at the other two adults, who had been looking at where Tommy was hugging his father. This teenager had been dealing with this by himself for five months.

"Hey, do you mind if we stay here for a while? Until you get better?" The winged hybrid asked again.

"Stay as long as you want," Tommy whimpered.

Phil nodded absentmindedly, rubbing his son's back. After a while, Tommy back away, rubbing his eyes and yawning softly.

"Are you tired already?" Sam asked jokingly.

"Normally I wake up, wait for Dream, and if he doesn't come, I go back to bed," The strawberry-blonde explained, "If I start screaming, wake me up,"

With that addition, the adults were left with shock as the teen started to drag himself to Logsted.

"He's been dealing with this for a really long time," Puffy started, "So, what do we do?"

"Help him the best we can. Allow him to open up to us," Phil said.

The other two nodded.

And so, for the next couple of hours, the three were moving supplies from their homes to the exile island so they could stay.

Tommy may be hurting, still dealing with grief and trauma, but he has his family there to help him back up. It may take weeks, months, or maybe even years for him to recover, but no matter, they'll be there to help him, and to carry on the memory of his fallen brothers.


After all...




They're just children!

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