Dream SMP Oneshots

wings pt. 2 | tommyinnit

TW: blood, gore, screaming, knives, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, 

**THIS IS ALL PLATONIC**

Phil's Pov 

I watched as my youngest son writhed in pain, even unconscious he was in agony. I knew what was happening, it was all too familiar. I cut his shirt off, he needed a new one anyway.

My son was growing his wings, a late bloomer. His body rapidly growing his wings to make up for the time lost, but upon further examining... he only had a small bump on his back. His wings were no where close to done, meaning he must've just started the process this morning. Wings growth typically lasted anywhere from a couple hours to a day, I was one of the luckier few... My own process only lasting twelve agonizing hours. 

While he slept I decided to look over his injuries, I had never seen someone's skin as littered as his. 

Scrapes, bruises, dried blood, my son was a mess. How did this happen? Why wasn't I there to stop it? I was his Father, Dadza. I promised to keep him from harm, yet I didn't. I failed. 

I knew Ghostbur was feeling the same way, the poor ghost had been consistently grabbing blue. The matter during a deeper navy as time went on. I was sure he wouldn't remember this tomorrow, his own sadness blocking the memory forever. 

"Ghostbur, can you go grab me some bandages and a healing pot?" I asked softly, we didn't know what all injuries Tommy had. "I need to work quickly to avoid infection" 

He nodded quickly and disappeared up the stairs, leaving me to try and wake my youngest son. If he slept through the process things could only get worse, especially if he had any complications. Wing growth was a dangerous process, you needed to guide the wings and keep the wound clean as they tore through the skin. 

"Tommy" I whispered, gently shaking him. "You need to wake up bubba" I ran my thumb over his cheek, scraping away some of the dirt and dried blood. 

He sat up straight with a scream, arms wrapping around himself defensively, tears immediately welling up in his eyes. "D-Dad?" he asked, his voice soft and broken. I hadn't heard him like this since he was six, and he had fallen and scraped his knee. 

"It's okay, It's okay" I soothed, pulling him into my chest. Softly stroking his back. "You're home, you're safe" tears streaming down my face.

"I-I can't go back- Please don't make me go back" He pleaded, burying his face into my shirt. 

'What did that green bastard do' I growled internally. I had to focus, I could be angry at Dream later.

"You're not going back, I promise" I whispered, rocking him back and forth. "I need you to tell me what happened, how long as this been going on?"

He shook in my grasp, his entire body tense. "T-the pain in m-my back?" he asked softly. "o-or th-the other stuff?"

I widened my eyes, the other stuff?  Did he mean the bruises? I had hoped those were from adventuring, that he had been having the time of his life in exile... but I knew the answer deep down, it was what I feared the most. 

"Everything Toms, everything" I reassured, Ghostbur had returned now, a small basket in his arms. I nodded graciously, grabbing a healing pot and wet cloth.

"W-well sometimes when-when he" He burst into tears, from the pain or the memories I was unsure of. "H-he blows my-my stuff up, and-and the debris flies a-and h-hits me and-and" 

"Shhh, it's okay" I whispered reassuringly, wiping the cloth along the cuts on his arms. "When did the back pain start?" 

"U-Um t-three days ago?" He asked, a pained gasp slipping through his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears pouring down both our faces.