They Rely On Hope. What Do I Rely On? - Tommyinnit Adoption AU

Chapter 118

TW: mentions of blood, burning, death, violence

Tommy did his best to block out the pain in his arm. He hoped that the adrenaline would hurry up and do more, but for now he would ignore it, far too terrified to look down and see how much damage had been done.

Instead, Tommy's gaze was up, trying to find the best way back to his weapon. He might not have his dominant hand, but he had practised plenty with both. If he had the weapon he had a chance at fighting Arson off. Without it however, Arson continued to step closer, the sword held steady in his hand.

Still, Tommy noted the shake in the other hand, noted the increased white of his eyes. Arson was reluctant to kill, but he knew he had to. Tommy was the same, but he blocked out the potential killing of another kid, and focused on survival. That was step one.

So, when Arson's eyes flicked up, seeming to be searching for comfort in the crowd, Tommy took his chance, dashing around Arson, and coming between the boy with the flaming sword and Tommy's own weapon. Of course, whatever distraction Arson has noticed, it wasn't enough for him to miss Tommy's sudden movement, and all too quickly, Arson had spun around, lunging at Tommy.

Tommy skidded along floor, ducking under the attack and swinging his left arm out to hit Arson's ankles, throwing the boy off balance enough that when Tommy shoved him, he simply fell, sprawling on the floor. That collapse gave Tommy enough time to sprint towards his weapon, reaching for it as though it were his only lifeline.

Before Tommy could grip it, he rolled to the side, avoiding Arson's downward strike. The sword impaled itself deep into the ground where Tommy had been crouched just a second before, and Tommy's panic only increased at how close that had been.

For a split second when Arson seemed to struggle to pull the weapon from the ground Tommy thought the sword might be stuck, but a second after that thought skirted Tommy's mind, Arson drew the sword from the ground and turned on Tommy.

Tommy barely had time to think before he was ducking away from an attack, then dodging another, leaping backwards to avoid two more, and rolling sideways to avoid another 5 brutal attacks. This went on and on for what felt like an eternity of Arson attacking and Tommy dodging, until Tommy's foot hit something with a metallic clunk. As Tommy ducked another attack, he looked down and found that somehow he had stumbled over his flail.

He grip the weapon tightly in his hand and jumped to his feet, swinging the weapon forward, hoping to catch Arson off guard enough that it could give Tommy some time to breathe.

No such luck.

The flail, unsurprisingly, missed, and Arson didn't hesitate. He just attacked with even more vigour.

Tommy found himself stumbling back, the flaming sword repeatedly finding its way far too close for comfort. Tommy could feel his skin burning as the sword came too close. The blade of the sword hadn't quite touched him with, but still, the flames kicked out, fiercely snaking across his arms. Tommy barely noticed the pain, his arm being far more of a distraction, but he could see and smell the way his skin was seared by the flames.

Tommy didn't know what to do. The attacks came so fast. So ferociously and desperately and all Tommy did was back up, trying to avoid the attacks as best he could. That plan, of course, went to hell the moment Tommy felt a cold, solid object behind his back. The wall. Shit. There was no more retreating, so, fuelled by pure desperation, Tommy's arm came over and forward, in an attempt to block the sword and protect his heart. The same arm that was uninjured. The same arm that was not his dominant one. The same arm that still had it's hand gripped around the handle of his flail.

There was a sickening crack, and both Tommy and Arson realised what had happened at the same time. Tommy froze, a scream on his tongue, not quite escaping. Arson on the other hand, slumped forward, his eyes glazed over, with no more tears to shed on his already tear soaked face.

"NO!" Tommy screamed, "NO NO NO NO NO!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO- PLEASE NO! ARSON!?"

Tommy was not a killer of innocents. Tommy was not a monster. Tommy was not- he was though. He was now. He hadn't even learnt Arson's real name. Hadn't given Arson a chance to tell his story. Hadn't given Arson a chance to be his friend. Tommy had just killed him. Maybe Arson had friends or family who missed him. Maybe Tommy was a brother killer. Maybe Tommy was as bad as the Masked Ones.

Tommy slumped to his knees, cradling Arson's blood soaked head. He didn't care that Arson had burnt him. Arson had just been fighting for his life. It was Tommy's fault, all his fault. His fault this fight happened. His fault the lights had turned red, he knew the Masked Ones wanted him dead. His fault Arson was dead before he could even ask Tommy to tell someone goodbye.

Tommy hadn't given Arson any last words. Even the Masked Ones had given Tubbo that mercy. Tubbo's last words were the only thing that had kept Tommy alive, and Arson hadn't had a chance to say those words. What if there was an 8 year old out there, who had just lost his brother, and had no family left? What if that 8 year old now had nothing to live for? What if that 8 year old did what Tommy had wanted to do ever since his own brother's death? What if that 8 year old died the way Tommy would have all those years ago?

Tommy was a murderer. A monster. There was no getting around that. He was simply cruel.

Words: 1000

A/N: uhhh... try not to cry? I know you probably are, cuz I mean I am- I don't know what to say or how to comfort you all here so uhh I love u?/p