The void stares back [Tommyinnit Angst]

I wish I could (never) see you again

The darkness was something Tommy has gotten used to, regrettably. Mind you, it's cold, it's overwhelming, it's everywhere and it feels like it's squeezing him, trying to wiggle itself into his broken body, or whatever is left of it after what happened back in the prison. But it was better than the obsidian walls and scorching lava, better than the vast expanse of plains and the endless body of water he was surrounded by during exile, because while the darkness was everywhere and unchanging, it bore no similarly to either places. It was simply there.

However, he wasn't here alone, and even though he thought he'd never say this, he wishes he was. Because he's here with Wilbur.

Not his big brother Wilby, not Ghostbur, no, Wilbur, the one from Pogtopia, the one who yelled at him, hit him, accused him of working with the enemy, the one who manipulated him just like he did.

It wasn't fair. It isn't fair. He knows Schlatt and Mexican dream are in here too, and he desperately tries to cling to them (despite him absolutely hating Schlatt for what happened in the past), to not have to be alone with his shell of a brother who whispers to him about all his mistakes, about how glad he is to be back with him again, about how neither of them were good enough for the server, but sometimes it doesn't work, sometimes he ends up alone with the monster wearing his brothers skin.

And he hates it, he hates it so much, he wishes he would just shut up, so that he wouldn't have to listen to his mocking words, his manipulation and honey coated sentences filled with empty promises of happiness.

Tommy hates how the red eyed imposter acts so much like Dream.

But at least he can look at him, at least he can look at...Wilbur, without feeling like he has to claw his eyes out and curl up into a ball to protect himself from the hits he knew were coming.

If there's one good thing about being stuck in the void after getting beaten to death with his deranged, long gone older brother, it was that he never had to see Dream and his stupid fucking face ever again. Because the book isn't real, Tommy wouldn't have been here for 2 months now if it was.

And as Tommy ignores the ghost of a touch from not-Wilbur around his shoulders, he feels a tug on his gut.

And then, the pain set in.

It started in his stomach, in the exact same spot as where the tug he felt was, and it spread slowly but surely, it was burning hot, scalding, unlike the cool space in the void and the freezing feeling of Wilbur's arm pressed up against his shoulders. He felt nauseous, his head started pounding, he couldn't inhale properly, every single one of his muscles felt like it was seizing up and cramping.

And then his heart burned.

And he felt like he was bursting.

Bright red blood, the essence of life which was but a mockery of what he had lost in the afterlife, spilled from his mouth when he opened it to scream in pain, despite no noise coming out.

The wound on Tommy's head exploded with more pain then ever, it felt like Dream was digging his fingers into it again just to cause him more suffering as he hit him again and again and again and AGAIN-

His hands were shaking, his insides were turning, he could feel every inch of himself repulsing away from each other.

And the blood kept coming, and coming and coming out of his mouth, and nose, his wound and his e y e s and he b u r n e d.

Tommy hadn't realized he was screeching, he didn't hear Wilbur shouting until the last minute, before he felt like he was ripped in two.

But he wasn't really.

His body slowly but surely turned to d u s t that was the colour of b l o o d as he
s c r e a m e d in a g o n y.

The heat was so intense he felt like he's dying all over again, the rushing blood in his ears and his choked up breathing the only thing he heard, as if his scrambled brain couldn't even pick up on his own screams.

The golden haired boy barely registers the shout from his former caretaker, something along the lines of "NO, GIVE HIM BACK!", Before it feels like he's getting shredded all over again.

In the end, as soon as he's done, the dust isn't even there anymore, and with that Tommyinnit was no more.

And then he was.

As soon as he came to, the scorching pain he previously felt faded back into a familiar ache, and while Tommy could feel it slightly more intensively in the back of his head, it was so much better than before.

For a moment, the blue eyed teen lays still, before realizing the darkness around him isn't the same as before, it doesn't press in and it doesn't feel like nothing anymore, he doesn't feel constantly watched over like before.

In fact, he can feel things he shouldn't. Floor under his arms, heat radiating from his left side…

No….

"Tommy?"

No.

"Tommy! It worked!-"

nonononoNONONONO.

Tommy opened his eyes and saw the familiar, cracked porcelain mask staring back at him with it's disturbing smile seemingly stretched wider than before.

"Welcome back!"

Tommy screamed.