Chapter Text
With a loud, disoriented groan, Dream slowly opens his eyes, but they snap shut immediately when he’s met with the painful, blinding rays of the sun.
Wait, what?
Why is the sun bearing down on him, the blistering heat seeming to already tint his pale skin red from just moments of being outside?
He was just sitting on the couch, talking to Wilbur, so how the hell did he get outside?
Even though Dream is terribly confused, he’s very thankful that he can feel the sun’s rays. The feeling tells him that, no matter what’s happening, he isn’t back in that horrible cell.
When his eyes finally adjust to the bright scenery, he slowly and hesitantly raises his head and looks around.
On one side of him, there’s a massive forest, distant speckles of greens and browns splattering the horizon everywhere the eye can see.
Meanwhile, in the opposite direction, Dream hears the faint sound of crashing waves, unable to see the sandy shore, but knowing that it must be nearby.
But that’s strange because, if there was a beach nearby, he’s sure that Wilbur would have told him about it.
Wait…
Does that mean that he’s somewhere else?!
Instantly feeling panicked, Dream jumps to his feet, sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes scan the horizon again, knowing that he needs to find Wilbur’s cabin, and fast.
If Sam realizes that he left the boundaries of the cabin that they discussed, it’s all over for him.
He’ll be sent back to Pandora’s Vault.
Locked inside that dreaded cell, never to see the light of day again…
No, he can’t go through that again!
He just can’t!
While breathing heavily and trembling violently, Dream starts blindly moving forward, not knowing where he’s going, just driven by the desire to move, run, flee.
After a few moments of traveling, Dream notices a large, tall one-block tower looming in the sky, serving as a dirt and cobblestone beacon guiding him to… something…
While hoping that, if someone’s around here, they’ll help him find Wilbur, Dream quickens his pace, practically stumbling forward in his haste to figure out what’s going on.
As he gets closer, Dream realizes that the tower isn’t stationary, but it’s growing larger and reaching closer to the clouds with each passing moment, telling him that someone is very high up.
Someone is traveling to the sky, standing on a platform that must be just wide enough to support their frame.
That looks… dangerous… and terrifying.
Why would someone be up there?
If they fell, they’d be dead, unless there’s a body of water just outside of Dream’s field of view.
Despite already feeling exhausted, Dream pushes himself to go faster, his concern drifting from his own fate to the mystery person, unable to shake off the feeling that something here is very wrong.
After a few more moments, he catches a flash of red and white from the person, paired with blonde, those colors instantly making him think of a certain blue-eyed boy, but that can’t be.
What would Tommy be doing out here in the middle of nowhere?
Just moments after asking himself that question, Dream gets his answer in the form of climbing over a large hill, allowing him to see an all too familiar landscape that he never thought he would witness again.
Two tents on the beach, one nothing but a crater, and the other just a few pieces of white wool clinging to the remaining sticks that once served as the foundation.
One-block holes litter the ground everywhere, even what remains of the path not safe from the destruction.
A once large, homey building made of stripped oak logs lays in shambles, only a few charred logs symbolizing the house that was built there.
The sign that once proudly proclaimed the name of the building is snapped in half, thrown off to the side and discarded like thousands of other items that have been lost to the throes of TNT.
Even without the sign, Dream would recognize this place instantly.
Logstedshire.
And, by the smoking remains and ashes fluttering in the air, this must be a very recently blown up Logstedshire.
But that’s just not possible.
Logstedshire blew up over a year ago…
So why does it seem so fresh, why does it feel like, just moments ago, this was still Tommy’s home during exile?
Tommy…
As Dream’s breath catches in his throat, he looks back up at the still-growing tower, unable to see the figure anymore, but, with a sick feeling, he already knows who it is.
Dream stares with mounting horror as Tommy keeps towering up, and up, and up.
Suddenly, Dream realizes that he's going to jump.
He's going to take his last canon life, all because of Dream's actions.
How couldn't he see it the first time he was here?
And why is it so obvious now?
And why is he still standing there as Tommy keeps getting higher and higher in the clouds?
While running faster than he ever has, Dream screams at the top of his lungs, "Tommy, stop, don't jump!"
Much to his dismay, he sees the tower just grow taller, his words seeming to fall on deaf ears.
Oh prime, this is bad!
This is really, really, really bad!
Tommy’s going to jump...
And, without a doubt, if he falls from that height, he’ll die.
He’s going to die, and it’ll be all Dream’s fault.
No, he can’t let that happen!
He’s already failed Tommy so many times…
He’s trying to be better!
He promised that he would be better!
He can’t let this happen!
Even though Dream feels shaky and downright terrified, he begins jumping and placing blocks beneath him, too focused on helping Tommy to notice how he has the strength to do that or, when his hands hold the various blocks he was carrying around, none of his fingers are missing.
By the time Dream can see Tommy again, he’s heaving for air, determined to, no matter what, not look down, already feeling like he might pass out from just being so high up, even without seeing how far the fall would be.
“Tommy!” Dream calls out in a shaky, ragged voice, unsure if the boy will hear him, but desperate to catch his attention before he can make that fatal decision to jump.
Upon hearing Dream’s voice, Tommy pauses in laying down the next block, his posture going rigid with a powerful mix of anger and terror.
Now that Tommy has stopped climbing, Dream picks up the pace, nearly slipping a few times in his haste, but he keeps pressing forward, realizing that every moment right now matters so much.
When Dream is only about five blocks below the height where Tommy is, he stops climbing, not wanting to crowd the kid, but also ensuring that he’s close enough so he doesn’t have to shout.
“Tommy…” Dream gasps out as he tries to catch his breath, having so much he wants to say but, after climbing over a hundred blocks into the air so quickly, he’s having trouble forcing the words out through his panic and exhaustion. “Please… don’t… don’t jump. Please.”
“Dream?!” Tommy angrily demands, breaking several blocks beneath him, wanting to get a closer look at the green bastard, unable to believe that Dream has the nerve to ruin even death for him. “Why the fuck are you up here?!”
“I’m here to stop you,” Dream slowly says as he finally regains control of his breathing, allowing him to make the platform three blocks wide and three blocks long, too scared to continue standing on the one-by-one where his toes poked over the edge at all times. “Please, don’t do it.”
“Why do you care?!” Tommy angrily demands as he breaks the remaining two blocks beneath him, putting him on the same level as Dream but, to his satisfaction, he is still taller than the masked menace. “You're the one that drove me up here in the first place, you green son of a bitch!”
“I know…” Dream whispers as tears rush to his eyes, knowing that Tommy speaks nothing but the truth, but he thinks that falling from this height would be less painful than the realization that he made Tommy climb up here so he could kill himself. “I'm so sorry, Tommy.”
“You're… sorry?!” Tommy asks in a loud, disbelieving tone as he steps closer to Dream, putting them face-to-face but, because of his crude, twisted mask, Tommy can’t actually see the man’s face.
“I am,” Dream earnestly says as he looks up at Tommy, hoping that the kid can see the sincerity in his teary, emerald-green eyes, having not yet realized that he’s wearing his mask after so many months without it. “I've hurt you, Tommy, and I’m so sorry for that. I've done cruel, terrible, and selfish things to you. I'm a monster.”
Then, while resisting the urge to reach out and touch Tommy, to reassure the kid that he means no harm, he continues with all the sincerity he can manage, “But Tommy, even after everything I've done, you're still a fighter. So, please, don't stop fighting. Don’t give up. Please.”
“Dream, what game are you playing?” Tommy asks after a few moments of tense, heavy silence, trying to figure out what this new manipulation tactic is, especially since it almost sounds real, but that just couldn't be true.
What game are we playing today, Dream?
One moment Dream’s talking to Tommy, and then the next he’s back inside his cell, Quackity’s voice whispering that question in his ear as the axe grazes over his delicate skin, not yet cutting him, but making promises of the pain that will soon follow.
He doesn’t know how he’s back in his cell, because he thought he was out, he thought he was safe with Wilbur, but Wilbur isn’t here and he must be back in his cell because he hears Quackity and the sound of his voice is so familiar and terrifying and he can’t fucking breathe because he’s so scared of being hurt more and he doesn’t want to be hurt anymor-
“Dream?” Tommy asks in a low, uncharacteristically soft tone, his eyes wide with alarm and confusion at the sight of Dream.
While Dream had been standing moments ago, he’s now sitting on the corner of the platform, dangerously close to the edge. While whimpering uncontrollably, the loud, terrified sounds making Tommy even more lost, he watches as Dream brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in a pitiful attempt at a hug. Dream moves to bury his face against his legs, but the mask gets in his way. With a loud, ragged breath, Dream grabs the sides of the mask, yanks it off his face, and chucks it away from him, his fingers shaking too badly to unlatch the buckle in the back, causing a few pieces of his hair to be ripped out, but Dream doesn’t pay it any mind, too distressed to focus on anything other than the fact that Quackity’s here and he needs to hide and make himself small and create fewer places for his tormentor to hurt hi-
“Okay, who the fuck are you, because you sure as hell aren't Dream,” Tommy demands as he continues towering over the shaking and unmasked man before him, knowing that this person sounds like Dream, but it just couldn’t be him.
Wait…
That sounded like Tommy, not Quackity…
Is it really him?
Slowly and cautiously, Dream lifts his head from where he was trying to bury his face against his knees and, even though his vision is blurry from tears, he'd recognize Tommy’s signature red and white shirt and that mop of blonde hair anywhere.
“Who the fuck are you?!” Tommy demands, but, instead of his voice being filled with nothing but anger, there are undertones of fear, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of the man before him, who looks to be only a few years older than him, and may or may not be Dream.
“I’m Dream-m, Tommy,” Dream shakily says, his voice cracking embarrassingly partway through due to the lingering terror he feels.
“No, Dream would never take off his mask or apologize!” Tommy adamantly says, refusing to believe that this impostor could ever be Dream, especially when he acts so different from the monster who has tormented him in exile for so long now.
“I don't know how to make you believe me,” Dream dejectedly murmurs as he closes his eyes tightly, causing the tears to slip down his cheeks even more rapidly.
“Just tell the truth,” Tommy firmly states, but his voice takes on a bit of a pleading tone, wishing that Dream would just be honest for once in his fucking life. “Stop lying to everyone all the fucking time!”
“Okay…” Dream hesitantly agrees, doing his best not to flinch or cower away from Tommy’s anger, especially when he knows that it is more than deserved. “Well, Tommy, the reason why I'm so different is that I'm from the future.”
“You're lying,” Tommy accuses Dream without hesitation, not knowing whatever bullshit Dream is trying to use this time, but refusing to fall for any more of his lies.
You’re lying to me, Dream. You remember the punishment for lying, don’t you?
“N-No, I'm not, l-l-lying!” Dream frantically exclaims, Quackity’s voice in his mind, especially when he speaks of punishments, causes Dream to be filled with absolute terror, his mind consumed by nothing but fear and dread and the desire to try to lessen the pain before it even begins, causing him to continue begging desperately, “Pl-Please, s-s-sir, I-I promise, I'm n-n-not lying! Please, please, n-no more! Please!"
Okay, what the actual fuck is going on…
Dream is begging Tommy not to be hurt.
Since when was Dream scared of being hurt?
Hell, he doesn’t just seem scared, Tommy thinks he looks absolutely terrified, desperate pleas falling from his lips without stopping as he shakes violently like a leaf.
And who the hell is he calling ‘sir’...
And why does he seem so afraid of whoever this ‘sir’ is?
Deciding that, for the time being, he can push aside his hatred for Dream in order to figure out what’s happening, he carefully kneels before Dream, making him still taller than the small, hunched figure, but at least he isn’t towering over him anymore.
While hoping that he doesn’t regret this, Tommy reaches out a hand toward Dream, a part of him naively wondering if, when he goes to touch Dream, strong jaws of the monster he’s so scared of will snap at him, but nothing of the sort happens.
When he places his hand on Dream’s shoulder, the man flinches so violently that Tommy grips tightly to him, worried that, without his strong grip keeping him steady, Dream might fall off the platform to a painful death.
Sure, he’d still have two more lives, unlike Tommy, who’s on his last one, but, when Dream looks this scared, he doesn’t really want the man to die.
"Dream?" Tommy carefully asks, the sound of his name causing Dream’s head to snap up, his eyes blown wide in absolute terror and panic, gazing unseeingly at Tommy, but looking as though he thinks that the boy will be the last thing he sees before he dies. “It’s me, Tommy. No one else is here. Just you and me.”
Once again, the sound of Tommy’s loud, unmistakable voice slowly coaxes Dream back from the nightmare world that his head conjured up.
"T-Tommy?” Dream shakily asks as his eyes blink slowly, increasing levels of recognition filling them with each passing moment. “Y-You've come t-to v-v-visit me-e?"
“Dream, we're in Logstedshire,” Tommy slowly says, as though he’s talking to a small child, unsure what Dream means by asking if Tommy is visiting him, but knowing that, whatever Dream is thinking, it’s not right. “You've come to visit me.”
“Oh…” Dream mutters in a low, confused tone, not understanding what Tommy’s saying as the throes of panic still grip his mind.
Then, when the word 'Logstedshire' finally registers in his mind, Dream gasps out, “ Oh …” afterward trailing off as he remembers that, somehow, he ended up back at Logstedshire, just after it was blown up.
“Dream?” Tommy asks as the man gets a haunted, faraway look in his eyes, hoping to call him back to the present before whatever that was can happen again.
Slowly, with wounded and pain-filled eyes, Dream looks up at Tommy, the teen sucking in a harsh breath of air at how wrecked Dream seems right now, the sight of his biggest tormentor looking so defeated causes him to hesitantly ask, “What happened to you?”
With a shudder that wracks his entire body, Dream looks away from Tommy, instead staring at the nearby clouds as he mutters, "I-I… T-Torture."
Wait, what?!
Dream has been tortured?!
When the fuck did this happen?!
He literally just saw Dream yesterday, there’s no way he could have been tortured during that time, right?!
Well, Tommy, the reason why I'm so different is that I'm from the future.
It sounds absolutely insane but, if Dream really is from the future, it would make sense as to why he’s acting so weird.
The Dream he knew yesterday never would have tried to stop Tommy from jumping. Hell, he probably would have encouraged him, that deranged laugh echoing around him as he told Tommy to jump because no one would miss him.
The Dream he knew yesterday guarded his face like it was his most cherished secret. No doubt, if he ever tried to take Dream’s mask, he would have slaughtered Tommy without hesitation. Yet, the man before him willingly removed his mask and threw it off a tall tower, causing it to shatter down below, never to be used again.
The Dream he knew yesterday never would have apologized or said ‘please’, but this Dream has begged and pleaded not to be hurt multiple times now.
He can’t imagine the Dream he knew yesterday following orders from anyone, let alone calling them ‘sir’, but he heard this Dream say it with his own ears.
And, even if it’s the craziest thing he’s ever been told, he finds himself believing this Dream.
The Dream he knows is a damn good actor, but he would never, ever stoop so low and apologize or beg not to be hurt, even if it was to make Tommy trust him even more.
So that means that this is real…
This Dream is actually from the future…
And, oh prime, that means that he really has been tortured, hasn’t he?
With something dangerously close to sympathy building inside him, Tommy cautiously asks, “Someone tortures you in the future?”
"For m-months-s,” Dream mutters brokenly, the tears slipping down his cheeks even more rapidly, those words terrible and painful to say out loud, especially since he’s never done so before. “E-Every d-d-day."
"Fuck, man, I'm sorry,” Tommy breathes out with a heavy sigh, giving Dream’s shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he takes back his hand. “You're a real bastard, but even you don't deserve that shit."
"Th-Thanks," Dream shakily says with a weak little smile, knowing that, if he had continued to hurt this Tommy, the kid wouldn’t believe that, but it’s comforting to hear all the same.
“When will this happen in the future?” Tommy asks after a few moments spent in tense silence, unsure if he is asking something too personal, but there’s someone from the fucking future sitting in front of him, how could he not ask any questions?!
“A few months from now is when I’ll be locked in the prison,” Dream hesitantly says, not sure exactly what day today is, but assuming that the timeline is something like that. “I think about six months passed before he started coming to hurt me. And he did that to me for two or three months? It's hard to keep track…”
“Did he not let you wear your mask?” Tommy softly asks after a few moments of just thinking over Dream’s words, unable to fathom what it would be like to spend half a year in isolation, followed by months of literal torture; even though what Dream did to him during exile was nothing short of torture, something tells him that Dream’s was more… physical and that it lasted for much, much longer than his own exile. “Is that why you took it off?”
“ He burned it on his first visit,” Dream says with another full-body shudder, still remembering the anguished scream that tore through his throat as Quackity threw his beloved mask into the lava, never to be worn or comfort him again. “I haven't worn it in months… it just feels so… wrong. Like I'm pretending to be someone who’s long gone.”
For a few moments, Tommy just thinks over Dream’s words, trying to picture a version of Dream that feels like he’s pretending to be something he’s not when he’s wearing the mask, rather than it being a part of him like the man he’s always known. And, no matter how hard he thinks about it, he can’t imagine it. It’s just so… different from everything that makes Dream… Dream.
“So, why are you here?” Tommy asks after he loudly and awkwardly clears his throat, deciding that, even though he still doesn’t like Dream, the man would probably appreciate it if he stopped asking about the literal torture he went through.
“I don't know,” Dream slowly begins with a loud, heavy sigh, wishing that he knew why or how he suddenly ended up in the past. “I was… I was talking to Wilbur about the past and the regrets we have-”
“Wait, Wilbur?!” Tommy interrupts Dream in a loud, shocked tone, certain that he must have misheard Dream, that he didn’t just say Wilbur, who’s dead when talking about the future. “Not Ghostbur?!”
“Oh, prime, Ghostbur…” Dream mutters in a low, horrified whisper, suddenly remembering the ghost whose neck he snapped so brutally and easily when he teamed up with Tommy to try to take Dream’s final life. “That means Wilbur is in Limbo right now. Oh prime, I need to help him!”
“Dream, what the fuck are you talking about?!” Tommy exclaims with growing alarm in his tone, unsure what the man is talking about, but terribly concerned, especially since Wilbur might need help. “What the hell is Limbo?!”
“Limbo is where all the dead people go,” Dream rushes to explain as he stands up on shaky legs, knowing that he can’t just sit around when Wilbur, the man he loves, might be suffering in Limbo all over again. “It’s an empty void, except for a train station that takes people to and from there. Time moves differently in Limbo; every day here is a whole month there. Which means that my Wilbur was dead for thirteen and a half years before he was revived.”
“What the fuck,” Tommy mumbles in disbelief and horror; even though he hates Wilbur for blowing up L'Manburg, he still cares about him and doesn’t want anyone to suffer for thirteen and a half years, but especially not the person he once loved like a brother.
“I’m sorry, I’ve probably said too much and I’m overwhelming you,” Dream mutters with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose both in frustration and an attempt to stave off the headache he can feel building. “Basically, Wilbur has been trapped, alone with his thoughts for a very long time. Especially if, oh prime, what if Wilbur came back to the past too?! He’s probably really panicking right now!”
“Okay…” Tommy hesitantly says, still not fully understanding what’s happening, but willing to follow this strange, new Dream’s lead, especially if it’ll keep Wilbur from suffering more. “So how do we revive him then?”
“I-I know how to revive people…” Dream hesitantly says, trailing off at the end, knowing that Tommy is going to have a very strong reaction to that, especially since no one here knows about the revive book yet.
“You what?!” Tommy screams, terrified by the idea of Dream of all people having the power to revive whoever he wants, whenever he wants to.
“Yeah…” Dream says with a weak, nervous chuckle, this conversation going about as well as he expected it to, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. “Schlatt offered me a book on how to revive people if I switched to fighting on his side, and I just couldn’t pass that up. I could use that knowledge to revive Wilbur again.”
“You shouldn’t have that much power, Dream,” Tommy firmly states, not caring how different this Dream seems; no one should have that much power, but especially not him. “You’re like… immortal.”
Dream laughs bitterly, the humorless sound sending a shiver down Tommy’s spine, a feeling of dread filling the boy when Dream says, “Tommy, I’m nowhere close to immortal. You have no idea how many times I was on the brink of death in that prison, regen potions just barely able to keep me alive long enough for the next day's pain to begin.”
“Is that why they hurt you?” Tommy softly asks, finally beginning to understand how all these little pieces of information fit into place. “To get the book?”
“Yeah,” Dream says in a false-nonchalant tone, shrugging in a pitiful attempt to pretend like this doesn’t bother him. “My only options were to give up the book and be killed, or keep the knowledge to myself and go through months of torture. Pretty shitty either way.”
“I…” Tommy starts to say but, for one of the few times of his life, he is entirely speechless, unable to think of how someone could be so cruel, especially since Dream’s torturer might even be someone he knows.
Finally, Tommy settles on a soft, weak, “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Even after everything I did to you during exile?” Dream can’t help but ask, knowing that, yes, he does deserve it after everything he’s done, but some twisted part of him must like the pain, making him want to hear Tommy say that he deserved to be tortured to the point that he barely even recognizes himself anymore.
“I fucking hate your guts, but I still don’t think you deserve to have your only options be torture or death,” Tommy adamantly says and, although the words are harsh, Dream can’t help but smile ever-so-slightly, feeling like that strong tone is because of what’s been done to him, rather than what he’s done.
“Thanks, Tommy,” Dream honestly and sincerely says as he finally meets Tommy’s gaze, the younger of them sucking in another harsh breath, so unused to seeing Dream’s face, let alone the raw, open emotions on it. “That… means a lot to me.”
Then, with a heavy, guilty sigh, Dream softly continues, “And I know you’ll never forgive me, but I am so, so sorry. If I could take it all back, I would. I never would have let my jealousy get the best of me and stolen your disks. I never would have declared war on L'Manburg. I never would have forced Tubbo to choose his best friend or his country."
"But you did do all that," Tommy boldly points out, his words causing Dream to wince, even though he knows that Tommy speaks nothing but the truth.
"I know…” Dream mutters as tears rush to his eyes, so fucking tired of crying, but unable to prevent the waterworks that always appear behind his eyes.
Then, while getting an idea, Dream steps toward Tommy and earnestly says with as much sincerity he can, “I can make your future better though, I promise."
"I don't believe you," Tommy says just as bluntly and without hesitation, refusing to listen to any promise made by Dream, even from one who seems like less of a dick overall.
"Okay, let's go to L'Manburg right now, and I'll ask Tubbo to revoke your exile and make you a citizen again," Dream firmly says with the beginnings of a smile, knowing that this won’t make up for everything, but he thinks it’s a damn good place to start.
"What?” Tommy asks in a low, disbelieving whisper, not wanting to get his hopes up, but already feeling that little bubble of hope and desire form in his chest, so easy to pop, but just as easy to grow into something beautiful. “I can go back?"
"Yes, Tommy,” Dream says just as softly with a heavy sigh, hating how eager Tommy is to go back, especially while knowing that he’s the reason why the kid is out here all alone to begin with. “That's where you belong, with your friends and people who care about you. You don't deserve to sit in loneliness with only me to keep you company.”
Then, with a faraway look in his eyes, one that speaks of countless hours spent in pain and misery, Dream murmurs, “I-I never knew how bad it was to be isolated. I spent so long without seeing anyone that a part of me looked forward to those visits because, even though he was literally torturing me, it was at least another person and I wasn't entirely alone."
"Prime, Dream, that's fucked," Tommy breathes out in a horrified whisper, unable to imagine being so lonely that he would look forward to torture because it meant seeing another person.
“Oh, I know,” Dream easily agrees with a wry smile, his response causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in surprise and alarm, wondering if he’s standing hundreds of blocks in the air with a psychopath. “My head is so fucked up. And, after what I've done, I think yours might be a little too."
"No, I’m perfectly fine, because I am a very big man," Tommy states without hesitation, his words causing Dream to release a fond, surprised chuckle, finding it nice to just talk to Tommy again; even if it isn’t in the most ideal conditions, it’s nice to be able to just speak to the boy again without being terrified of accidentally hurting him more or Tommy wanting to enact revenge on him.
"Prime, I've missed you, Tommy," Dream can’t help but whisper, his eyes glossy with more unshed tears, wondering for the first time if maybe, just maybe, this is a second chance for him, the opportunity to make things right so he doesn’t end up in Pandora’s Vault again.
I haven’t missed you, Tommy wants to bite out but, when he notices the little smile that Dream gives him, unmistakable care and joy in his eyes, he holds back, deciding that, maybe this once, he doesn’t have to let the man know how much he hates him.
"Can we go to L'Manburg now?" Tommy softly asks instead, not wanting to give in to the hope he feels, but so eager to see Tubbo and everyone else again if Dream will actually let him.
"Yeah, of course,” Dream agrees without hesitation, his smile taking on a sad edge, but it doesn’t fade away completely, knowing that, even though it’s long overdue, he is finally doing something good for Tommy. “Let's go see your friends again."