Chapter Text
This didn’t feel real. Now, Tommy was no stranger to nightmares. One might even call him an expert on them at this point. He was well aware the pain he had felt could not have registered properly if this were simply a scenario his brain had created to torment him. Even knowing the truth, though, it was still difficult to grasp that this was reality. He certainly fucking wished it wasn’t.
Dream had actually escaped. Tommy had had so many nightmares about it, and they finally came true. Even if he had gotten away, gotten to the safety of the Arctic and then to his home, it still felt like he was back there. Back in Logstedshire, listening to Dream’s unhinged ramblings and horrible threats. The twisted smile Dream had fixed him with after stepping out from behind the broken portal frame was burned into his mind. He could still see it every time he shut his eyes.
Tommy was doing slightly better now, at least. He had a full set of netherite armor from Sam, and a netherite sword from Eryn. Ranboo (was it Boo now?) had even given him a “Rapple.” There were walls around his property. Tommy knew full well that the walls would do practically nothing against Dream. They weren’t tall enough to be more than a minor inconvenience, and the yellow concrete could be easily mined. That didn’t change the fact that the familiarity of being surrounded by black and yellow walls brought him a feeling of safety, though.
Phil and Quackity and Boo and Eryn had all offered their support. The reminder that Dream was wrong, that Tommy wasn’t alone, definitely helped. The lighthearted conversation, the time sat listening to the discs and watching the sunset, it had calmed him. For a moment, he was almost able to forget that Dream would be coming to hunt him down and torture him at any moment.
That artificial calm shattered abruptly when he was suddenly met by the sight of lime green and porcelain white, right in front of his face. Were it not for Phil’s steady presence at his side, Tommy might’ve had a panic attempt then and there. Taking a moment to calm himself, he realized that it wasn’t Dream standing in front of him. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief when that fact finally registered.
“Ayup, Drista!” Tommy said, plastering on the best fake grin he could muster.
“You’re shaking.” She replied dryly.
Tommy scoffed indignantly. “And whose fucking fault is that?”
“You were shaking before I made myself visible. Don’t blame this on me.”
Phil looked between Tommy and the young goddess in confusion. He looked like he was opening his mouth to speak, when his head suddenly snapped to Ranboo. The ghost was singing, and looked like he was about to dance. Phil rushed over to stop him, leaving Tommy and Drista to their conversation.
“Well Dream escaped from prison, the fucking bastard.” Tommy shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat to hide their increasing tremors.
Drista drew in a sharp breath. “Cringe. I could help you, if you want.”
Those words made Tommy feel significantly lighter. He currently needed all the help he could get, and having aid from a goddess might actually be enough to keep him safe. The smile on his face became a bit more genuine and he nodded enthusiastically.
The chaos goddess clapped her hands together. “Oh, I’ve got a great idea! See you later, child!”
“What-“ was all that Tommy managed to say before the ground opened up beneath him, casting him into darkness.
Tommy woke up slowly for the first time in… he honestly couldn’t remember how long. He’d awoken feeling confused and annoyed, but he had no idea why at the moment. He also had a dull throbbing headache, which he immediately realized was from hitting his head on something. He couldn’t remember what, though.
Slowly, his memories returned to him. Dream escaping prison. Dream promising to make his life a living hell. Being chased. Phil walking him home. Talking to Drista. Drista offering help. Falling. What the fuck had Drista done? When the goddess offered to assist him, he had expected a weapon or something. Maybe a totem if she was feeling generous. Not… whatever the hell this was!
He moved the sword from Eryn to his hotbar, and quickly checked to make sure he still had his armor on. He did. The next step was taking in his surroundings. He had woken up slumped against a wall in what seemed to be a dirty alleyway. Drista really did pick the loveliest place to drop him. The area wasn’t anywhere he recognized on the server, but it could be something newly built. He wasn’t sure why someone would choose to make a gross alley, but the people on the server were pretty fucking weird.
Dragging himself to his feet, he cautiously began to make his way out of the alley. The faint sounds of people talking slowly grew louder the closer he got to the entrance. He tensed, preparing to draw his sword if necessary. Shockingly, Tommyinnit was not the most popular person on the server.
Finally exiting the narrow and grimey space he’s woken up in, he found himself standing on a well-worn sidewalk. Definitely not a new build, then. Turning towards the source of the voices he had heard earlier, what he saw made him freeze in shock.
In front of him, looking at least six years younger and significantly happier, was Fundy. That wasn’t the thing that left Tommy gaping though, no. That was because of the person Fundy was speaking with. Quackity. Tommy’s reaction was solely due to Quackity’s scar, or rather, lack thereof. Tommy knew a lot about scars. He was practically coated in them. One thing he knew full well is that a severe scar like that never goes away completely. No amount of healing or regen could ever get rid of that kind of scar once it's formed.
The two stuttered to a stop in front of Tommy, looking at him with pity concern. Belatedly, Tommy realized he had probably still had a bloody nose from his encounter with Dream. Honestly, though. Why were they looking at him like that? One bloody nose isn’t that big of a deal?
“Kid… why are you wearing full plate armor?” Quackity asked hesitantly.
Tommy gave him a look that he hoped conveyed the full extent of his incredulity. “Why wouldn’t I be wearing armor? And- how the fuck do you have two eyes!?”
The duck hybrid seemed confused by the question, for whatever reason. “I- I was born with them?”
“No, yeah, but you got one of them torn out, right?”
“No? I think I would know if I got one of my fucking eyes ripped out!”
Fundy’s tail lashed back and forth behind him. Looking at Tommy with a strange expression, he asked. “Are you- like- are you okay?”
Tommy laughed humorlessly. “Nah. Haven’t been since before L’manberg, big man.”
“L’manberg?” Fundy seemed confused.
Like pieces of a puzzle clicking together, Tommy suddenly managed to connect several facts and come to a realization.
Fact 1: Drista (a literal goddess) had promised to “help” and then sent Tommy into a weird hole in the ground.
Fact 2: He had woken up somewhere totally unfamiliar.
Fact 3: Fundy and Quackity both looked younger. Quackity was missing his scar.
Fact 4: Neither of them seemed to know his name, but they clearly knew each other.
Fact 5: They didn’t show a single ounce of recognition when Tommy said “L’manberg.”
All of this added up to: Drista had sent him to a fucking alternate universe. Apparently this was her definition of help. Wonderful.
Tommy leaned his head back and ran both hands down his face in an exasperated motion. “Prime fucking dammit, Drista!”