Chapter Text
The Dream SMP finally ended.
The Observers made their rounds there and found out about the numerous server violations going on. They saw the unsafety of the members, the things Dream did behind the scenes, the blasted three life system, even if not many within the server exactly knew. It’s still a wonder who reported Dream. Ultimately it was ruled that Dream had abused his power as Admin, messed with the domain of the Goddess of Death, and brought intentional harm to everyone involved. Wilbur didn’t believe it at first, but when one Observer freed Ranboo from Limbo and he could barely talk, he started to process it, as it brought back memories of screaming for 5 years in that train station. It brought back memories to Tommy being shoved into the space created for him, quieter than he ever had been before.
The Dream SMP was meant to be a home base, that’s what the contract was for. Intentional harm and unsafety are never allowed on an Admin’s realm unless that is what you agree to. Like someone joining 2b2t would be fine living in a world full of cheats, violence, and anarchy as is laid clearly out in the waiver signed. There also was that third life challenge, in which people agreed to murder, violence, and a life limit. But no one expected such a thing to be in a place largely intended to be a long-term home in which the contract said nothing of the sort. Plus, it is forbidden to mess with Limbo, the Void, and god and goddesses’ domains.
They barely left unscathed, and he still hasn’t processed it, even as he travels with his father, Technoblade, Tubbo, Ranboo, and their child Michael. None of them have even talked about it, especially because there’s one thing left unanswered at their time there. And it isn’t just the talks they’ve avoided, or the fact Techno and Phil don’t accept any critiques of their actions in the SMP since they now shove the responsibility onto Dream. It also isn’t the fact that Wilbur wants to shout you worked with him in response.
It’s the fact no one from the SMP has seen Tommy in years.
The last time someone saw Tommyinnit alive, was five years ago by Quackity via phone call. Quackity remembers receiving a call about Dream coming after him, and a desperate mention of “I’m finally getting the fuck out of here.” Largely, it was interpreted Dream had got to him and hid him, or that he had died. Neither appeared to be true as he wasn’t in Limbo, nor ever found in the Observer’s search of the code of the SMP. So, he’s alive, somewhere. Just not here. And he left without a word to anyone, even to Tubbo.
They all hold different views on it. Technoblade says he doesn’t care, when he very much does with all their unattended past. Phil does care, but he pretends not to for Techno. Tubbo is bitter and angry. Wilbur is also angry, but more so at himself. Ranboo doesn’t really mind, being that he’s far more understanding than the rest of them, but also because he was dead during Tommy’s escape, and he does not remember a lot of what Ghostboo was ever told. Regardless, they all wonder where he got off to. Wilbur in the end hopes he’s safe and alive. Wilbur also hopes that if he ever sees him, he could be forgiven.
“Where are we?” Tubbo asks, interrupting his thoughts.
Phil pulls out a map and hums, “I think it’s a realm called…huh. I don’t know actually. Techno I think we took the wrong portal exit, or maybe there was a glitch. I did feel nauseous for a moment.”
Techno peers around, “It seems we did. We’re supposed to be in Hypixel right now. This looks like a survival realm.”
Phil sighs deeply, “Alright, it’s fine. We can ask the nearby village.”
The village is very strange. Wilbur notes that the town center seems surrounded by a ring of mountains, almost like a wall enclosing them in. There are many shops, homes, and what awes him most of all is the giant pub floating in the sky. He does not think about the giant drop down into the lake, even if the leap looks exhilarating.
Even Phil whistles at the sight. “This is gorgeous. The magic here is very strong too.”
Techno grumbles, “I don’t know. I have a weird feeling.”
“Papa?” Michael mumbles.
“Yes baby?” Ranboo answers. Wilbur almost smiles at the sight of the small piglin pulling on Ranboo’s coat.
“Can we go see the flower shop?”
They follow Michael’s hooved hand to a rustic looking shop. It’s made of cobblestone, though it seems well textured and constructed. It has a spruce roof, and a very lovely path leading up to it. Whoever painted the sign has awful handwriting, and chose an ugly and bright red. They make their way down the path and Wilbur jolts when he hears a quiet, “Hey watch it idiot!”
Wilbur flounders and Techno takes out his sword immediately. The voice says, “Uh, down here?”
They peer their gaze down at the path. The man can’t be any taller than an inch or two. He looks like a moth hybrid, if he had to guess, though he’s covered in a thick cloak and no wings appear to be visible. The man pulls down his hood revealing pale white eyes and a grimace. “I don’t recognize you.”
“We’re just passing by,” Phil assures.
The man’s antenna twitches, “Yeah, uh, don’t know how that’s possible. This place is whitelist only, and there’s a rigorous application process.”
“What he means to say,” Techno says, “Is that we were passing through because our portal landed us here by accident. We’re trying to figure out where we are and got curious along the way.”
The man still looks distrusting, but he offers a tiny hand out to them. “I’m Sneeg.”
They all mumble their names out one by one. He pauses at Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s. He blinks once, “This is all too much for me.”
“Okay?” Ranboo squeaks.
Sneeg pulls a bag of white powder from his pocket and throws a few flecks on his tongue. In a flash he runs off. Wilbur can barely track him with how tiny he is.
“So that was weird right?” Techno half laughs.
Wilbur nods, “It was strange, certainly.”
They all seem to feel the uneasiness drift into the sky, but they say nothing of it, as they do most things. Instead, they let Michael excitedly drag them towards the flower shop. On their way there, a young avian girl shoulder checks them on her way out of the door. She scoffs at them, going so far as to hiss right at Phil when he attempts to send a greeting chirp her way.
“Bad day, I guess.” Wilbur offers. No one laughs. Wilbur decides to enter first, since no one else seems confident enough to do it.
When they open the shop it’s not really what Wilbur expects from the scuffed exterior. It’s very homely, like almost nearly this was someone’s actual home converted into a shop. He supposes the second story of the place makes sense now, the owner probably lives on top. The store is well divided by flower, herb, crop, and gardening tools. He marvels briefly at the wall of succulents when he sees it.
Tommyinnit appears to be currently arguing with some person who looks near glowing. His hair is purple with flecks of stardust and sun, and his eyes are almost galaxy in their complexity. He looks like a prince, a king, a god even, especially with the thinly spun gold crown tangled in his hair. But what he can’t get over is the fact is Tommyinnit stands right there. He’s about four inches taller, several pounds of muscle bulkier, and with a smile he hasn’t seen since Tommy was about five years old. When Tommy laughs, he near gasps at the sight of wings that flare from his back. They’re still small, nowhere near enough molts to fly yet. They are sunset color, and if he had to guess Wilbur would say he looks like a sun conure.
His traveling mates behind him bump right into his back as they stop to stare also. The star, space, or whatever god person collects their flowers and leaves with a polite wave. Tommy is definitely looking at them, but his expression is still and easy. There’s no way he couldn’t have recognized them. Why isn’t he doing anything?
Phil breathes and is about to say a word and then there’s a knife lodged right next to his ear. Wilbur breathes out a tentative choke when the bag of mulch that was hit in the crossfire sags and spills over his shoulder. He didn’t even see him move his arm.
“Mimi?” Michael chirps, not at all focused on the knife He then rambles a few words in Piglin.
Tommy’s unwavering blankness cracks then and he snorts a few words back. He must’ve told Michael to come say hello because Michael runs happily out of his parents’ arms and into Tommy’s. Tommy laughs lightly and pats the kid on the back. Tommy then says a few more words in Piglin and tucks a tulip behind Michael’s ear.
“What’s he saying,” Wilbur whispers.
Techno murmurs, “Michael asked if he could have a hug. And then Tommy said, “hello little one” and then he said, “I remembered you liked red tulips”. And Michael is now asking if he can show his parents the flower.”
“And he can, by the way,” Tommy huffs, “Go on then Michael, show them your flower.”
Michael runs over all smiles, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. He simply points to the flower and says, “Pretty, right Papa? Dad?”
“Yeah,” Tubbo huffs, “It’s lovely. Say, uh, Phil would you mind taking Michael outside.”
Phil looks tense, but out of all of them he thinks they have far more questions for Tommy. Phil nods easily and Michael takes his hand so they can go outside away from a potential argument. Tommy’s smile cracks once Michael is out of his shop. His hands are seemingly empty but then there’s a flash of iron between his fingers. Wilbur is immensely nervous about the fact Tommy got dangerously skilled with a knife.
“So,” Ranboo coughs, “Um. It’s good to see you?”
Tommy squints, “You as well, Ranboo.”
“And not the rest of us?” Tubbo shouts.
Tommy shrugs, “I mean, it’s complicated.”
“Then simplify it.”
Tommy growls, “Why are you even here? This is a whitelist only place?”
“Maybe the Admin should get better security here then. There’s a rift somewhere here because our portal glitched and we wound up here,” Techno snarks, full of the same arrogance and confidence Wilbur’s had to listen to about for the past few years.
Tommy squares his shoulders, “Is that it? Ah I’ll be sure to tell him. Hello Tommyinnit, yes what is it? Oh yes, the guy who blew up your previous home and beat you half to death and freed a fucking asshole from prison is here to tell you that your code is shit. Oh well tell him to fuck off then!”
Wilbur himself almost jolts at the end of his sentence. He’s harsher than he used to be. And it almost sounds like he’s implying that he’s the Admin of this place, but there’s no way. Tommy may be kind, impossibly dedicated, and smart. But Wilbur would never peg him to hold such a hefty responsibility, never in his life. Wilbur would assume it would stress him out too much. And maybe it’s that assumption that really tells him he knows nothing about Tommy.
What is terrifying him most of all is that Tommy isnt even looking at him. He’s confident enough to glare at Techno and Tubbo, and he’s kind enough to offer a half smile to Ranboo. But Wilbur seems to be someone he’s avoiding entirely. Wilbur’s always wondered why Tommy left the server, and part of his heart always told him that drove his brother away. And right now, seems to be proving that. He’s not even worth the argument, the vitriol, or the grief. He’s worth a knife imbedded in the bag of soil next to him, and barely a glance or more.
Tommy’s voice lowers, and a second throwing knife twirls into his fingers. “So, are you guys leaving or do I have to do it by force?”
Before Wilbur can formulate an answer to what sounds like a very real threat. That same young avian girl punches open the door. “Tommy! Tommy!! You didn’t tell me we had new members.”
“Beau,” He grits, “This is not the fucking time.”
“Well, when is it the time because nearly everyone, except three, are standing outside staring at the avian man and the piglin child. I’m the designated get Tommy to explain now person.”
Tommy stabs his knife onto the countertop, and now that Wilbur is looking at the wood, it appears he does this a lot. “Fine, god dammit. Tell them to go to the pub, tell the avian not to follow you and just wait outside with the kid. I have to deal with them first, and then I can come explain, happy?”
“I’d be happier if you said please.”
“I’d be happier if you’d jump off a cliff.”
This Beau person simply laughs, as if this is a simple a running joke between them. Tommy runs a hand over his face. “You don’t have any idea how difficult this makes things. Like, I have to now investigate whatever code you all broke, and I have to talk to you, and I have to explain to my people that you all aren’t all the people you are for their own safety, and I also have to worry about what you might do to this place and if Dream finds out and comes waltzing in too.”
“Dream is in jail,” Techno swallows, “Like big inescapable jail. He was found guilty of Admin abuse with the whole revive book thing, and many counts of an unsafe server. We weren’t told all the details other than he would be in there for a bit of time.”
“Oh,” He sounds hallowed, “That’s…well one less problem.” Wilbur also has this weird feeling Tommy is hiding something within that statement, but he can’t discern what.
“I just,” Tubbo makes a noise in his throat, “I get wanting to leave the SMP, I get not wanting to talk to Wilbur or Techno, but what’s wrong with me? What did I do? I mean you left without a word, but I didn’t think it was because you hated me. You told fucking Quackity of all people. And what’s with favoring Ranboo over me all of a sudden.”
Tommy breathes through his nose, “It’s because Quackity was the only person who could and was willing to help me. And I don’t blame Ranboo for anything that happened considering he was dead at time.”
Tubbo sneers, “I’ve always been willing to help you, even if it was to my own detriment!”
Tommy shakes his head, “Look, just I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go talk to the server, and then I can get you some lodgings for the night. I can help you all get through the portal and leave when I work through the code issue. Now that I’m calmer, I’m thinking you probably don’t even know how to get out of here even if I forced you.”
“You’re not even going to talk about why you left?” Ranboo whispers.
Tommy sets his mouth thinly. “I don’t owe you all an explanation, Phil even less so. Now get the fuck out of my store. I’ll have someone show you to the hotel. No need to pay, I’ll cover the cost.”
Tommy quickly whips out his communicator which looks far more modern than anything Wilbur’s ever seen. He supposes an Admin has many perks. Techno is respectfully silent, even as Tubbo continues to try to goad anything out of Tommy. Wilbur is still reeling that he’s actually alive and here. He can deal with Tommy wanting nothing to do with him, as again he’s always thought he was part of the reason for his departure. He also gets the impression him and Techno don’t get along for several reasons. But Phil and Tubbo are an animosity he doesn’t understand. If they are going to glean anything out of them, Ranboo’s likely to be their liaison. Tommy seemed unwilling to blame Ranboo for anything, which makes sense considering he wasn’t alive, and no one blames a specter for much.
Wilbur continues to speculate any reason Tubbo and Phil may be a target of anger, but then Tommy opens the door and outside is a familiar face standing next to Phil.
“Jack?” Wilbur croaks.
“Y-yeah, hi,” Jack mutters, “So, I’m supposed to take them the hotel?”
Tommy offers a half smile, “Yeah big man, sorry. I’ll, uh, have to owe you.”
“I’ll think of a reasonable payment.” Jack smiles back. Jack opens an arm and Tommy is out of distance. He bounds towards the floating pub island as they’re dragged towards whatever hotel there is.
Tubbo is the first to break the silence. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jack pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts, and Wilbur figures he’s still in awe that they’re all here. If he had to guess, Jack looks different as well. He’s not any taller, but he’s certainly older. He’s dressed in a suit, and his fingers are stained yellow, almost molten lava. Even the eyes behind his glasses are a glowing fire. Wilbur thinks he must be a blaze hybrid.
Jack says, “I live here. Own a hotel. Uh, the pub too actually. Though Tommy likes to call it a “community house”, and I guess I don’t mind.”
“Didn’t you and Tommy have sort of a bad relationship surrounding hotels?” Ranboo snorts.
“Yeah,” Jack answers with a serious tone, “And then I was without a home once the SMP closed. I found out a few things about myself, and I saw an application in Hypixel for this really cool place to call home. I decided to try again, because this place looked like it had a way safer contract and no 3-life system, and many contingency plans in place for if anything happened. And I found out Tommy was the one running it. He surprisingly let me in, and we had several long talks. I’m sure we’re due for a few more.”
“Is this place a haven for hybrids by chance?” Techno asks.
Jack’s eyes widen from behind his glasses. “Eh, I suppose you could say that, though me manifesting as a blaze hybrid isn’t the reason I came here. A lot of us here are hybrids, but we don’t disallow humans or anything. The place is more so intended as a place of refuge from tyranny, war, and such. Think of it like group therapy, everyone here has had shit going on in their lives. Tommy could probably say that a lot better.”
No one speaks then.
Jack leads them towards a hotel that very much fits the theme of this place. It’s in that old Tudor style build the pub is, though it’s in great condition. It looks more like a bed and breakfast than it does a hotel, but Wilbur wouldn’t complain. It seems lovely. Before he can eagerly open the door, Jack stops him.
He looks grim, sort of reminiscent to how he looked back at the Dream SMP. Worried almost. Jack says, “Look, I don’t like the fact you’re all here. Tubbo and Ranboo are fine, but Phil and Techno, and kind of Wilbur, you all really terrify me. But I trust Tommy. And if he says you’re willing to follow the rules under punishment of death, then I believe him.”
“He said that?” Tubbo chuckles nervously.
Jack huffs, “Yeah, he’s not the same scared little kid anymore. Don’t underestimate him.” Wilbur doesn’t think he ever will after those knife skills.
“Right, uh, so rules?” Ranboo chirps.
Jack nods, “No one owns the land. You can have personal property, but we are mostly encouraged to share basic supplies and farms. No one owns the food or waterways. No war or violence against each other is allowed, so if there is an issue it must be handled by court and legal agreements. Though we do sort of play fight a lot, but since you don’t know anyone here, don’t attempt to unless they seem willing. There’s no risk of permanent death here, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or scar. And if we want something changed or added we have to majority vote as there’s no sole person in charge. I think that’s all you need to know. I would imagine none of you will need to know the punishments as you will be following the rules.”
Wilbur nods. Seems simple enough. He asks, “And is there anyone else from the SMP here?”
“Uh yeah,” Jack coughs, “Shit this is going to be really awkward.”
Techno glares, “Just tell us who, Jack. It’ll be less awkward if we know.”
Jack grumbles, “He really doesn’t pay me enough for this. Right, so we have Fundy, Charlie, Niki, and Schlatt. Quackity is whitelisted but he hasn’t joined yet.”
Wilbur knows that look on Tubbo’s face. It’s the only sort of despair someone gets when they’re so angry that they just might cry. But Tubbo doesn’t cry, and so instead he doesn’t say anything. Why didn’t he invite us, then, is the question that Tubbo fails to ask, Wilbur thinks.
Wilbur’s not deluded enough to think he’s worth the invite, and he’s sure Techno and Phil feel the same seeing as that they’d say no regardless. But he at least feels for the pain Ranboo and Tubbo must be feeling. Certainly, it is not compounded by his own pain and loss of their relationship. Surely, not.
Jack coughs in the silence, “Okay, uh, let me show you to your rooms how many do you need?”
“We’ll take two with two beds, and one with one bed.” Phil says. Even though his father is not always the best as reading the room, he does know when people are too clammed up to speak. It would be appreciated if Wilbur weren’t so sour at the fact Phil seems unaffected by this whole ordeal, though his father has always been hard to read. Even his wings are still, when that is supposed to be the most expressive part of an avian.
Wilbur stops his thoughts there and simply makes his way towards his room. Before he can enter, Jack’s hot hand stops him by the bicep. Wilbur yanks, but the grip is tight. Jack mutters, “Listen, be kind to Tommy, okay?”
Wilbur snorts, “You act as if I don’t know that. I can tell he’s traumatized.”
“I don’t, know that,” Jack says carefully, “We’ve all changed over the years, after all.”
Jack seems to be implying that he thinks Wilbur is worse, though Wilbur just doesn’t think he’s changed at all. And maybe Tommy could already tell.