Bird of Prey (DISCONTINUED)

12 - Conflicted

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat. He looked around at his strange surroundings. He remembered that he was in his temporary cell that had been built especially for him. It was in the nether, lava on all sides of him. He stared at the iron bars in front of him, longing they would go away so that he could go back home.

I just want to go home, the thought ran through his head constantly.

Since the main prison Sam was working on wasn't finished yet, he was stuck here. He knew it would be best to stop moping around and try to escape while the opportunity was biggest. But he couldn't bring himself to try and escape, he didn't feel himself worthy. He felt he should be locked away.

He brought up his right hand to his face, remembering the day he had just dreamt about. The scar was very visible on either side of his hand where Phil had stitched together the hole that had been there. He'd never really been able to move it the same after that had happened, but he'd been forced to become accustomed to it.

He stood up in the cell, it had become muscle memory to check the status of his wings. They had started to look less like uneven stubs and more like wings that a child would have. Tommy groaned when he held out his arms to measure how much he still needed to grow back before he could fly again.

He looked at the lava before him.

Should I...?

No. Definitely not.

But...

Stop. Stop it.

Outside is so much more fun than in here...

You have a point, but no.

You know you want to...

Shut up.

All you'd have to do is--

"Stop talking!" Tommy yelled out loud. He was breathing heavily after fighting with himself. He wanted to leave. He needed to stay. Tommy yelling must've scared the voice in his head away since it was silent after that.

Tommy had changed in the past few months. A few months ago, he would've followed the voice in his head without a second thought, not caring about the consequences that followed. He just wanted to have fun. But now, his actions had gotten ahead of him and he was paying the price.

The last time he listened to that voice was when he tried threatening Dream with Spirit.

The time before that had been when he burnt down George's house.

And we all saw where that got him. 

He took a breath and sat back down on the ground that was surprisingly cold. He had been trying so hard to keep his sanity in this small cell he had been trapped in for almost 35 hours. 

He assumed that counting the hours probably wasn't a good sign. 

"I'm going to go get him." Technoblade was gathering his weapons, he was ready to fight the world to get his brother out of prison.

"You don't even know where he is." Philza was following Techno around, trying to convince him to let Tommy be locked up for a few days.

"It's somewhere in the nether. That's all I need to know. I think you're forgetting that I grew up in the nether."

"Don't you think it would be good for him? It could some sort of messed-up learning experience."

Techno stops moving and starts laughing. "I forget that you weren't there in Pogtopia with us. I spent weeks with Wilbur and Tommy. What I learned about Tommy was that he is a people person. He relies on others to keep him going. Him being in that cell is only making him go more insane and make matters worse. He doesn't have to live with us, he can live in fucking L'Manburg for all I care."

Phil understood what Techno meant. But he still thought that Tommy should stay in the temporary cell for at least a few days. He knew that he had missed a big chunk of his son's teenage years, and he felt horrible about it. Tommy had changed a lot more than Phil had anticipated in the 5 years he had been absent.

Techno was arranging his inventory, nearly ready to begin his trek. He had on his netherite armor, along with Orphan Obliterator and the Axe of Peace. He supplied a variety of potions.

He was ready.

Tommy was rocking back and forth in his cell. He hadn't seen anyone in the 42 hours he'd been there. He wasn't sure if he ever would see anyone again. There was a war going on in his head. Constant shouting. His head ached, he wanted someone, anybody.

He didn't know how long he would be in prison, that's how biased his case was, but he knew he wouldn't be able to withstand however long it would be.

You could escape all of this if you'd only listen...

No. I'm not—I'm not listening to you! Not again.

Arguments like this one circled through Tommy's head. He was constantly yelling at himself to shut up.

"Get out of my head!" He yelled, absolutely done with it all. He decided right then and there that the best option for him was the obvious one.

Obey the voice.