Lost

10- Bossman is a Stupid Fucking Name

TW: shock/ dissociation/ being really out of it, minor amnesia, broken bone, concussion, worry, being lost, mentions of Tubbo v. Tommy fight
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What felt like hours (but was really only minutes) later, Tommy woke up to light burning against his eyelids. He peeled his eyes open to find two flashlight beams shining his way. He raised a trembling hand to block the light.

Tommy smiled weakly at the two figures, his mouth pulling into more of a grimace than a grin.

One of the figures rushed to him, dropped to their knees by his side, and began to search his body for injuries. "Primes, are you okay?" they asked, worry flooding their tone.

Tommy moved out of their grasp, wincing as he did so. "I'm okay," he said, nodding.

Why wouldn't he be? And where was he?

The person's eyes lingered on Tommy's shoulder; Tommy followed their gaze, frowning at the appearance of his shoulder. A rip through both his poncho- why was he wearing a poncho?- and his shirt displayed horrible swelling and a rainbow of bruises across his shoulder. He poked it with his other hand, crying out in pain.

What the hell happened?

The other figure paced circles a little ways away. They had to duck to keep their head from hitting the rocky roof. They were mumbling to themself and running shaking hands through their hair. Every so often, they'd pause and look at Tommy as if they wanted to help but didn't know what to do.

"I think your collarbone's broken, bossman," the short brunette examining him diagnosed, sucking in a breath through their teeth. Tommy blinked up at them a few times, the words not quite making sense to his jumbled brain.

The pacing person stopped, their head turning from Tommy to the brunette as they tried just as hard as Tommy to process what it meant. A lightbulb went off in their head, and they covered their mouth with their hand, drawing in a shaky breath. They finally stopped pacing, sitting down next to Tommy with their face pinched up in worry. Tommy stared at both of them blankly as they waited for him to understand.

"Wait, I'm bossman?" Tommy asked, his words slurring together slightly. "That's a stupid fucking name. Who are you guys?"

"You're kidding, right?" the brunette asked, eyes locking onto Tommy as if they were looking for some sign that this was a joke. When they didn't find one, they turned to the other person, panic clear on their face. They had a silent conversation with a lot of staring and nodding and shaking their heads. Tommy tuned it out.

Tommy yawned two- three times in a row, wondering why he was so tired all of a sudden. His limbs felt like lead, and his eyelids felt even heavier, impossible to keep open. He let them close as the people continued their conversation.

"No, no, no. Don't fall asleep, Tommy!"

Tommy opened his eyes halfway, squinting up at the brunette and yawning again. Their hands stalled inches from Tommy's chest, like they were about to shake him awake before they stopped themself.

"Who are you again?" he asked.

"I'm Ranboo, remember? We're roommates?" the taller person said. Right, Ranboo. He remembered something about the enby, but it was fuzzy, and it involved- Uno cards?

"That's cool, 'Boo. What's with the fucken- the Uno cards, though?" The question was aimed towards himself, but by the way Ranboo's eyebrows shot up, he'd worried them even more. "We're roommates? This is a shitty ass apartment." Tommy turned his attention towards 'Boo'. "Hehe, I have an online friend named Boo. I text them a lot. Maybe you're related? Oh, wait, fuck, that's not how it works. You should meet them- I should text them. Where is my phone?" Tommy mumbled, patting his pockets. He frowned when he didn't find it, and he looked to the brunette for an answer. "Who are you? Did you take my phone?"