Some revive book. As Sam, the prison warden, pulled Dream away from the bloodied Tommy who held tightly to the Axe of Peace while glaring harshly at anyone who stepped to close, everyone pondered what this meant. Wilbur, Schlatt, Mexican Dream. All could come back to life if Dream wanted them to. Insane lads who could manipulate Tommy and Quackity, and probably others until everyone was under Dream's jurisdiction. Tommy shuddered at the thought, but he figured he wouldn't be around long enough for that. Tubbo was alive and free. He didn't have the stress from L'Manberg anymore, Dream was gone, and Tubbo had new friends. He didn't need Tommy. Not anymore. And no one wanted Tommy around, anyway.

        Tubbo found him standing at the edge of the crater, one step away from his demise. Tubbo held him until sundown, telling him a million reasons why he should walk away. They both knew Tubbo was lying. Every excuse Tubbo made was empty and superficial. The real reasons were just that Tubbo loved him and Ranboo wanted to be better friends with him. That was it. That was all Tommy had going for him. Still, Tommy listened to Tubbo, and promised he would find a purpose.

        With Tubbo managing Snowchester and Ranboo breaking down elsewhere, Tommy found himself standing at the prison. What if he climbed to the top and jumped down? Would that be enough for Dream to feel a disturbance? Tommy wondered sourly if Dream would hear his screams, if Dream would laugh or cry or not care at all.

        "What are you doing here?" A voice asked, the person walking out of the prison in a slow carren. Tommy stared blankly at the creeper hybrid, the gas mask covering his lower face while goggles covered his eyes. Without facial features, he was distinguishable by his green hair and pale green skin. Awesamdude, better known as Sam, the warden of Pandora's Vault and redstone master. Tommy didn't know him that well. He was one of the original eight, Tommy knew, but other than that, nothing else. Tommy had been to his bunker once, and Sam offered him a room, but Tommy never took him up on that offer.

        "I... wanted to... build a hotel?" Tommy questioned his own answer. Is that what he wanted? Not exactly. It was one of the ideas he had brainstormed when he told Tubbo he would find a purpose. He imagined being a hotel manager, maybe selling drugs on the side, but overall, he didn't think too hard on it. Tommy wasn't good at talking to people, and his deal making skills were spotty at best. He didn't know what was fair, so he always jokingly said he'd get all the credit or money or whatever.

        "A hotel?" Sam responded, raising an eyebrow. Sam looked Tommy up and down. The teen didn't look that good, he'll admit. Tommy's hair was a greasy mess, and his blue eyes were fogging over every time something wasn't happening. His clothes were messily put on, and sewn back together by someone who knew the basics. His skin was pale, eyes drooping, and he was shaking like a reed in a hurricane. If Sam didn't know anything, he'd say Tommy was bedridden with sickness. But this wasn't some failure of the immune system. This was Tommy's mind and body fighting with each other instead of helping each other with almost no energy to support even a snail. Sam had no doubt that beneath the surface, several of Tommy's organs were taking turns failing, restarting, and malfunctioning. Sam didn't like it. No adult should look like this, let alone a kid.

        "A hotel," Tommy confirmed, going with the lie. What was the worst that could happen? Sam hating him for the rest of the SMP? The hotel being another place that someone would blow up or otherwise destroy? "A big one. Homely one. No wars one. A place where people can stay when they have nowhere to go."
       
"You want me to build it...?" Sam asked, tilting his head. He wondered when the last time Tommy ate, slept, or drank was. Sleep was probably a few naps that were woken from nightmares. Food was definitely a couple apples a day to hold him over, and drink was whenever water fell into his mouth when he fell from a high place and needed to catch himself in water.

        "Sure. Yeah. If you can. You built the prison," Tommy muttered. He was starting to get tired. He felt his body preparing for a crash.

        "I'll build you the hotel. It will cost you some diamonds, and I'll need your help gathering resources. We'll need to scout a place to build, geoform the blocks," Sam listed off, realizing that Tommy was asleep where he stood, or somewhere close to sleeping. Tommy slapped the sides of his face before falling forwards. Sam reached out to catch him, hand instinctively searching for a pulse. It was there, a weak one that was trying everything it could to continue beating.

        Sam frowned, picking Tommy up from the ground. The half creeper carried Tommy along the path all the way from the prison to his house. Tommy was silent and still the entire way, almost dead if not for his heart's laboured beating. Sam laid him to rest in the room that Sam offered Tommy months ago that was refused. Tommy curled into the blankets, hands weakly gripping the blanket that Sam drew up to his neck. Sam stayed there for a few minutes, watching over Tommy as the blonde settled. Sam took a deep breath, deciding that he would need to help Tommy.

        He left the room, gathering healing potions, bandages, and food from various chests scattered around his base. When he returned, Tommy was gaining some color to his skin all on its own. Sam sighed in relief, but didn't hesitate to pour the potion between his lips. Hoping the potion would take effect, Sam started to check Tommy for hidden wounds. All Sam saw were scars, horribly healed but old scars. None were properly treated making the scars an irritated red color, each jagged line making the skin around it shades of red and purple and sickly yellow. Sam couldn't help but stare. He thought Tommy was sixteen. Was he wrong? No sixteen year old could have accumulated this level of injury. Sam let his fingers lightly touch burn marks that singed the skin, his mind torn between desperately wondering what the stories were and not wanting to know the truth.

        Tommy shuffled in his sleep, leaning into Sam's touch. The creeper froze, but Tommy didn't wake up. His body was relishing in the healing potion, trying to spread out the power between all the internal injuries. Sam was mostly a relaxed person. Some would say apathetic. But Sam felt a tear, a single tear that was probably liquid sulphur, slipped from his eyes, catching against the bottom of his goggles.

        Not knowing how to handle this, Sam slipped his communicator out, hovering over his contacts. Who would know what to do? Bad had children, but he was going mad with the Egg. Philza was Tommy's actual parent, but Sam had a bad feeling about that man. Tubbo and Ranboo had only recently become parents, so they wouldn't be of much help. His eyes brightened when he saw Captain Puffy. She was by far the best choice out of everyone in the Server. There was no one more motherly and caring than the sheep hybrid.

        "Hey, Sam, what's up?" Puffy answered, her voice light with relaxation. Sam felt guilt pool in his gut. Would he really involve Puffy with this? He didn't even know if Tommy wanted help, no matter how much he needed it. "Sam?"

        "What does one do if they find a child, older teenager to be exact, who passes out in front of them, and upon further inspection, has several wounds that never healed properly?" Sam laid out the situation he had before him as he gazed at Tommy. "Bonus, this kid would probably refuse help."

        "That's a tough one," Puffy responded, but her voice was more of concern than humor. "Hmmm... if they refuse help but genuinely need it, you might need to resort to some form of trickery. Not manipulation but try to get them to see the help is not out of pity but care.  With the passing out, a little prodding or investigation to see why it happened exactly."

        "Thanks, Puffy. I don't actually know anything else about the situation or the kid. He... Tommy... just... was at the prison, not even there to visit. Just... There. I know it has something to do with Dream, but I don't know what exactly. Obviously, it isn't to free Dream. We all saw their last encounter. But the situation irks me," Sam explained sourly, eyes watching over Tommy's form. What did Dream do, and why was Tommy still drawn to him? It was like the scars in the sense that Sam wasn't sure he wanted answers.

        Puffy breathed in deeply, before exhaling with speech. "I don't know. Dream has always been exceptional at reading a situation and knowing what to do. I didn't see it when he was younger, but now his ability is plain manipulative. Dream had kept Tommy hidden away from the world for weeks. No one was there to monitor what he did. No one visited Tommy to see what was going on. Whatever Dream has done, no one knows. That might be the scariest part of all this. How can we help Tommy if we don't know what his triggers are or..." She trailed off tiredly, and Sam felt bad. Before he started talking, Puffy sounded wide awake and comforted. Now she seemed drained.

        "I'll talk to him when he wakes up. There's chance he'll open up," Sam said, but he doubted the words as soon as they fell from his mouth. What he did know about Tommy- mostly from word of mouth- was that he was, above all else, stubborn.

"That sounds like a start. Remember to be patient. Tommy puts up a very rude and hostile front, but I could always tell it was a mask. Part of him tries to push people away. That comes from abandonment and trust issues," Puffy explained with a sad voice.

"Bye, Sam. Good luck. Don't hesitate if you need help. I'm in the same boat as you. The kids on this server need help, and no adult is willing to reach a hand out. If Tommy accepts you, if he comes to depend on you... he needs someone, Sam. Tubbo, Ranboo, Tommy, Fundy, even Purpled. They need someone so they don't turn out like the rest of us."

She hung up after Sam returned the goodbye. He turned to Tommy one last time. The boy was bundled together in the blanket like a burrito, his hands above the edges to be a pillow for his head. Sam pulled the blanket up to his chin, and ruffled his hair, smiling when Tommy cooed at the touch like a baby bird. Someone to depend on, Puffy had said. Could that be Sam? He had been around SapNap and Quackity in their youth, but he wasn't their father. He didn't handle any of that responsibility. He was more like an uncle. To add to that, Tommy was fragile. He was volatile. Tommy was a spark ready to catch blaze. How could Sam nurture that into a healthy adult?
Sam had his answer when Tommy rubbed against his hand subconsciously. Before him wasn't a spark, but a child, one that was littered with scars that told painful stories. Tommy didn't trust anyone with his secrets, and only had Tubbo and maybe Ranboo as allies. Sam didn't know how to be a father, but he would learn. He would put in the work to be an active participant in this kid's life.

Tommy woke up hours later, his complexion improved and eyes no longer drooping. He freaked out when he didn't recognize where he was, but Sam was quick to reassure Tommy that he hadn't been kidnapped, and was instead in Sam's base after he had passed out. "Alright, Big S, I guess not eating for a day makes the blood sugar do the ole' limbo."

Sam smiled, knowing deep down that it was more than a day from his last meal. He didn't say anything, however, instead offering a free meal. As much as Tommy refused, he ended up sitting across from Sam while munching on some soup. They talked more about the hotel, Sam doing everything he could to keep the kid engaged. If Tommy had something to do, he would be out of everyone's hair. Less people, less triggered episodes. It didn't help that the Egg was accumulating power, and Sam wanted Tommy far away from another war.

"I'll need you to collect resources, since I have my own projects. I want to build a bank and remodel parts of my home. It shouldn't be a lot. Some wool, dyes, wood, that sort of thing," Sam said. It was true that he had his own projects, but he would never ask for help collecting resources unless he wanted to keep his employer busy.

"Dang, you're like Tom Nook, always giving me tasks and shit," Tommy said with a roll of his eyes. Sam wondered what color his eyes were before the wars. Had they faded into this dull blue, were they once as bright as the sky?

"Tom... Nook?" Sam smiled. This time, Tommy was able to see since Sam ate with his mask off. The reason for the mask was so he didn't spook off others with the shadowy inside and sulphur smell. It didn't harm anyone, but people would get frightened at the clearly Mob-like traits. Tommy didn't even notice, it seemed. If he did, then Tommy didn't care, at all.

"Animal Crossing. He's this orderly character, sends you on quests. He's my favorite of them all. I like Animal Crossing. It's so... cutesy, but not in a bad way? It's peaceful, simple, and vibrant with being overbearing. It isn't anything that it isn't supposed to be. Doesn't trick ya," Tommy explained, assuming that Sam didn't know who Tom Nook was or what Animal Crossing was. Sam didn't mind, however. It was silly, but Tommy seemed so happy when he talked about it. "It's like real life. You collect things. But people in Animal Crossing usually don't steal from each other. Your hard work is all your own."

It was an outlook that a kid shouldn't have had. Tommy should have been drawn to the colors or the music, not the fact that no one could take what he's done as their own, like his own life. Sam smiled even still. "I like that game. The character sprites are lively."

"They are! They bob their heads like they're listening to Cats," Tommy referred to one of his discs with a happy grin. Sam nodded along as Tommy continued chattering about the game and discs, and Sam swore that he could remain like that forever. He imagined that listening to a teenager talk about a video game would be boring, but somehow, Tommy brought an edge to it, like this video game was as important as the universe. Sam wondered if it might have been, to Tommy, at least.

"Well, Big Man, I'll see you around, alright? We'll meet up for the hotel building tomorrow," Tommy said as he finished his meal. He placed the bowl in the sink, washing away most of it with water. Tommy turned to leave, checking his inventory for any missing items, making sure his discs were tucked away in an Ender Chest.

"Shouldn't you stay the night? It's dark out, and I wouldn't want a Mob to find you," Sam reasoned, looking out his window to see the fading sunlight. Tommy had been out since yesterday, and Sam wouldn't care if a lively Tommy kept him company instead of an unconscious one.

"Nah, I'll kill any Mob that gets in my way. I'll see you tomorrow, m'kay?" Tommy didn't wait for a response. He pushed through the door, walking out into the forest. Sam watched the ground, but a footprint wasn't left in the mud. He was gone in a few seconds, but Sam had drifted from the window to his workshop. He pulled out the blueprints to one of his automatons. They were easy to make, a little difficult to program, but Sam only needed a simple machine for now. He clicked the metal parts together with ease, the machinery humming in harmony. The automaton opened its eyes, blinking with new life and a singular purpose.

The dings of a machine echoed in the air as Sam's communicator buzzed. The automaton gave a smile as Sam read the message shown 'HELLO! I AM SAM NOOK!'.

Tommy smiled despite his confusion when he saw an automaton standing on the wooden path instead of regular Sam. With the ears peeking out of his green with black streaked hair and a specially designed mask, the automaton looked like a hybrid between Awesamdude and Tom Nook from Animal Crossing. Tommy felt all his anxiety spiral away. It kept him awake last night knowing that he would need to have a cordial interaction with an adult that probably didn't hate him yet. The automaton's familiarity put Tommy at ease.

A set of pings filled the air as the automaton turned its face to Tommy with a smile appearing on the screen attached to its gas mask. The automaton waved happily at Tommy as if it was overjoyed that Tommy was there. Tommy felt like he was going to cry, pangs of guilt echoing the dull buzz of his communicator. 'HELLO, TOMMYINNIT! IT'S A WONDERFUL DAY TO GET TO WORK ON THE BIG INNIT HOTEL!'

"Big Innit Hotel?" Tommy muttered. He hadn't thought of a name, and one like that didn't sound particularly welcoming to anyone else on the Server. Tommy wouldn't go to a hotel named after himself, so why would someone else? But the automaton seemed excited, and Tommy couldn't bear to say no to someone that showed him so much care. "Yeah, buddy, it is a wonderful day. What do I need to do?"

The automaton- dubbed Sam Nook- showed Tommy to a chest with a list inside of materials needed. Tommy grumbled about the work and how Sam Nook was a hustler, but there wasn't any actual complaining or refusal to work. Sam Nook faded to low battery mode while Tommy was gone to preserve energy but be alert enough to know if someone approached. He was given very simple instructions by his creator. It was his job to protect Tommy. The protection protocols ranged from attacking anyone who threatened Tommy or someone in Tommy's 'safety circle' (limited to Tubbo, Ranboo, and Captain Puffy), to helping Tommy through emotional or mental dilemmas. Sam Nook was meant to protect Tommy from external and internal threats. It was actually programmed heavily in his coding to protect from internal threats, though Sam Nook wasn't sure what that meant.

When Tommy returned with stacks of items, Sam Nook arose to welcome Tommy back. The blonde smiled in return, rambling about how hard it was to find all the items as he dumped them into the chest. Sam Nook brought out a helmet for Tommy, gently putting it on Tommy's head. The blue eyed teenager huffed as he balanced the hat on his head. Sam Nook made a video to send to his creator, a part of his programming that any 'cute' moments were meant to be recorded for 'analysis' later. Tommy's smile had been the center of many photos already.

"I'll be going, Sam Nook. Will you be here tomorrow?" Tommy asked with eyes pointed towards the crater with a sad expression. Sam Nook wondered what was going through Tommy's head. He wasn't programmed with any knowledge about Tommy other than he was prone to passing out and was the reason for his existence. Tommy was important to Sam Nook, obviously, but shouldn't he know more? Sam Nook wanted to know more about Tommy. He decided that he would learn. How could he protect Tommy if he didn't know what places he frequented or who was meant to be villainized because they hated Tommy?

Sam Nook sent his reply to Tommy's communicator, half wishing he could use his voice instead of those pings. Tommy looked like he needed verbal reassurance, not a typed response that said: 'OF COURSE, TOMMYINNIT!'

Tommy walked away without another word. Sam Nook slowly powered down into night mode, alert for any intruders to the premises.
Tommy went to his dirt room, dropping to the floor with a long sigh. He was worn out but in a good way. It had been so long since he was last given orders, since he had a purpose. He was doing something for someone. He wasn't alone anymore. Sam Nook would guide him to a better tomorrow. He wouldn't be in anyone's way.

The days passed by without much thought. Tommy did as he was told like the obedient soldier Wilbur molded him to be. People came by with different intentions, and Sam Nook had his work cut out for him defending against the Eggpire and off-brand Team Rocket. Tommy didn't seem phased a lot of the time, more like he expected more when his killers arrived, but Sam Nook didn't have the programming to deal with that. He gave tasks, and he gave warm welcomings. He did report his findings to his creator, however, voicing his concern. He didn't expect to get completely shut off.

"Sam?" Tommy asked when he came back from his supply collecting to see the inventor extraordinaire there instead of the friendly automaton. Tommy felt something like vomit rise in his throat, creeping slowly but surely upwards. It was like panic but mixed with premature guilt. Tommy calmed himself with a few breaths as he saw Sam working on some of the mechanics in the interior of the hotel.

"Hey, buddy! Sam Nook was telling me about you two hanging out, and I decided that I wanted a turn!" Sam said with a smile that Tommy believed must be fake. He looked around the hotel, suddenly feeling tense. What was the real reason Sam was here while Sam Nook was missing? Had Tommy upset the automaton by any chance? "I've been working on these machines for the hotel. An elevator would look great, wouldn't you agree?"

"Anything you make is poggers, man," Tommy agreed as he leaned down to watch Sam fiddle with the machinery. The pressure plates were removed to show the wiring underneath that was meant to bring a person up, but Tommy didn't know the system could register what floor it was meant to go to. Sam must have seen his confusion because he started to explain.

"The elevator will be made of plates that each are a part of their own individual circuitry. When pressure is applied to a specific plate corresponding to what floor you want to go to, it will activate the pulley system to lift to the box," Sam said, pressing against one of the plates in front of him. The sound of ropes and metal sounded inside a tall tube but the elevator box was outside the tube and disconnected. Tommy fidgeted at the thought of being in such a small, closed off space.

Tommy leaned against the wall as he watched Sam work, his movements graceful and eyes narrowed in calculations. Everything was precise, a concentrated effort. Tommy didn't understand for the most part, but watching Sam work was enough to pique his interest. Tommy wondered if he could learn. He had done this before. He learned swordsmanship from Technoblade in the hopes of growing closer to his brother, and he practiced instruments so he could play with Wilbur. Tommy tried his hand at building once, to impress Philza, but he was never the best at design, his dirt house being concrete proof. Tommy would find creatures in different biomes in order to make Philza stay just one more day. It never worked. Philza always left, leaving Wilbur to be proud of Tommy. If he ever was. Would Sam be proud of Tommy if he learned redstone?

"Damn it!" Sam yelled, snapping Tommy from his thoughts. Sam cradled his hand as he glared down at the wiring. Tommy had never seen someone this angry since he last saw Dream in Logstedshire. Sam looked like he was about to destroy something, and Tommy wanted to preserve Sam's hard work.

"You can do it, if you want," Tommy muttered, crawling towards where Sam was cursing the flooring. Sam looked up at him, a snarl pulling at his lips from underneath the gas mask. He wasn't angry at Tommy, but the mechanics that wouldn't work and kept electrocuting him. Sam was about to give up on the elevator, and disassemble all of it since it refused to work.

"Do what?" Sam asked, throwing his tools in his bag with more force than necessary. He stood on his legs, stomping across his work area to clean up without blowing up. He didn't look at Tommy, but he wished that he had been when Tommy spoke up again.

"Hit me," Tommy whispered, right behind Sam now, standing on shaky feet. Sam felt all his anger leave. It didn't drain away slowly, no, it was just gone. He turned around slowly, cautiously, to see Tommy's emotionless face staring back unblinkingly. Sam noticed how Tommy shifted his weight from foot to foot. "It made Wilbur and Dream feel better when they did. They would get angry, and after they'd hit me, they said they felt better. I don't want to destroy what you've worked so hard to make. I know you'll get it eventually, but not in anger, so if you want, you can hit me."

Sam had to force himself to take slow steps. He wanted to pull Tommy into a hug immediately, tucking him away from the world. But Tommy was on edge, flinching away from every touch. Sam slowly lifted his arms, watching Tommy shiver in wide eyed fear. Sam touched his upper arms, trying to keep the touch soft instead of tight. Tommy seemed confused, and Sam hated it. "Tommy... listen to me... No one, absolutely no one should hit you because they are angry, even if they are angry at you. I will never, ever hit you. Please, please, don't give anyone the right to hit you."

Tommy stepped back from the touch. Sam prepared himself for what would happen next, steadying himself to make sure that he didn't spring a hug on the poor boy. Tommy looked down. "It's fine, Sam. I've been through worse. Just hit me, it doesn't matter. Just don't destroy your work."

"I care more about you than my work, Tommy. I would blow up everything I have ever created if it would make you smile," Sam admitted, realizing in that moment he meant it. He had spent some of his time looking at the pictures and videos Sam Nook recorded, and he borrowed some books from Ghostbur to learn what he could of Tommy's history. The books told some glorified tale of an annoying teenager, not the realistic view of a child soldier brought forth from war. Sam couldn't find anything from the actual war, only news clippings here and there. Sam remembered reading one of the older notes, The Cold Massacre written across the top in bold. Sam wondered how an event like that could affect the psyche of a twelve year old, how old Tommy was at the date.

"Why? Your work is so fantastic. I hardly understand it, but it looks amazing and inventive. It will help people, they'll love it," Tommy said, and his voice filled with something akin to guilt or regret. Eyes older than the body that paraded them. Sam loved Tommy's eyes. The depths of the ocean reflected back at him, but every picture Sam had seen showed Tommy's eyes before the war being sky blue, bright and brilliant with the fires of youth. "I'm not any of that. I'm horrible and worthless. I don't help people, and everyone hates me."

"I don't hate you, Tommy. I don't think you're horrible or worthless. You are more than what others think. You're a kid. People should be treating you like one, with care and love," Sam had seen that firsthand. How many times had Sam Nook checked in a report filled with the gruesome details of Tommy's latest attempted assasintation? Sam watched as different people tried being self-proclaimed heroes that killed the wicked, pushing other people's mistakes onto the scapegoat TommyInnit.

"I'm an obedient soldier. I'm public enemy number 1. I'm the exiled convict. I'm Dream's songbird. I am not a child," Tommy said. The last words were familiar, but the tone sent Sam over the edge. Tommy didn't think he was a child anymore. He probably didn't see himself as human. Everyone treated him like he was something else to the point that Tommy lost himself to these expectations.

'What am I without you?'
'Yourself.'

Sam had heard the words from the other side of the portal, but he didn't know what they meant at the time. Tommy was asking for validation, a purpose, because what was Tommy if not the things people said he was? He was the hero Thesues, and the enemy of L'Manberg. He was a puppet, and the reason every bad thing happened. Sam was trembling, arms weakly wrapping around Tommy's shoulders.

"You're a person, too, Tommy," Sam whispered, and regretted it when Tommy tensed underneath his grip. It was too late now, so Sam continued. "You were all those things, but now you're not. You can be whatever, whoever you want. I will make sure that no matter what you choose, no one will interfere. You can be happy, Tommy."

"I really can't," Tommy responded as he broke down in Sam's arms. Sam kept his own tears at bay since he didn't want to worry the blonde. "But I'll try for you and Sam Nook and the promise I made to Tubbo and Ranboo."

Sam made a mental note to learn what this promise was. He also figured that he would need to speak to Tubbo and Ranboo, probably with Puffy, since if Tommy felt this way, they probably would have similar feelings. Dream may be imprisoned, but the danger wasn't gone. Sam would do that later, because Tommy was finally letting someone know how he truly felt. Sam would talk to Puffy later about what this meant, but for now, he was Tommy's tether to reality.