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Tommy could feel the soft pull of fingers running through his hair, gently scratching around his ears and the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered open to find himself laying on soft grass, his head in someone’s lap. A soft voice shushed him to stay calm, that everything is alright, that he was safe here. Tommy whimpered, the side of his still aching after Dream collided it to the obsidian wall of the prison cell.
He’s dead.
Tommy stirred from where he was laying down to look up at the person petting him. Wilbur’s soft smile was the first thing he saw, his hands stroking his tear stained cheeks gently to get him used to feeling touch again. Tommy buried his face into his brothers chest, clutching at the worn trench coat, crying his heart out from the months of abuse and trauma Dream had inflicted on him. Wilbur held his baby brother, cradling him in his arms like he’d do when Tommy was just a baby, kissing his hair and stoking his back.
“‘urts, Wilby,” Tommy croaked, his body trembling when Wilbur accidentally brushed against a sensitive scar on his back that Dream had inflicted on the boy when he was in exile. Funnily enough, the scar is in the same place as Wilbur’s scar where Philza had stabbed him.
“You did so well, bubba. I’m so proud of you,” Wilbur murmured into his brother’s hair.
Tommy just shook his head. “No, no, I’m not-“
“Shh, bubba, You did what you could. I’m still so proud of what you’ve achieved without me beside you, I’m sorry I turned out the way I was in Pogtopia, I should’ve never done those things to you, what I said to you. You’re my baby brother, my baby brother I raised when Phil was off to fuck knows where with Techno. You’re my son, Toms and I’d trade the world just to see you smile again.” Wilbur repositioned Tommy in his lap, laying the boys head on his shoulder as the clear night sky shone with blinking stars.
The boys sat there for what felt like hours, feeding off the touch like starved animals. Tommy doesn’t remember when, but he’d dosed off to sleep at one point. Wilbur – attempting to not wake the boy – picked up Tommy and carried him into the cabin that rested by a river. The family cabin had once been home to Tommy when he was just a baby, Wilbur raising him when Phil and Techno would be out. Gently opening the front door, Wilbur spotted Schlatt lazing on the couch with a book in his hand. The ram looked up front his book to see the blond boy cradled in Wilbur’s arms. Schlatt frowned, seeing the kid here in the afterlife was deeply disturbing to understand, but the kid was home and Schlatt knew that Kristin would be heartbroken to see her youngest son here but somewhat happy that here boys are together again.
Shuffling through the living room, Wilbur laid Tommy down onto the black leather seat next to the couch Schlatt had laid himself. Schlatt took an extra blanket from his feet and threw it over the boy, smiling softly as he watched Tommy bury himself deeper in the chair, clutching at the woollen blanket. Kristin followed Wilbur into the living room, after being summoned by her eldest when she was outside organising her compost for her flower garden. She felt her heart break at the sight of her baby boy cuddling into his favourite chair, sleeping like he hadn’t slept in months, which could be possibly true.
“Oh, Toms, my baby boy,” her voice was soft, on the verge of tears. Tommy stirred slightly at the sound of his Mums voice, baby blue eyes fluttering open to see her saddened smile.
“Mum?” Tommy slurred, voice laced with sleep. Kristin nodded with a teary smile, petting his blond hair.
“Hi, baby boy, look at how much you’ve grown!” Kristin couldn’t stop her voice from quivering, seeing her youngest dead with her, when he should be living a long happy life.
“Imma big man,” Tommy murmured, causing everyone in the room to chuckle.
Kristin couldn’t stop smiling. “Yes, yes you are. How about you get some sleep and we can have waffles for breakfast tomorrow morning, sounds good?”
Tommy nodded, eyes drooping him back to sleep, “ok mum.”
Wilbur swore to whatever god that was listening, he’d reign terror onto whatever fucked bastard had harmed his baby brother, not caring if it was his own father. They’ll pay from what they’d done to Tommy and Wilbur’s sure that Kristin had the same goal, seeing her tear filled eyes become dark in rage.
It was all a matter of time.