Tommy wouldn't let Sam leave until he was asleep. Sam had seen the fear and panic in his eyes as Tommy begged Sam not to leave him. Sam had to swear for five minutes that he wouldn't abandon Tommy for the blonde to settle down enough for Sam to leave. He would be back, obviously. Nearly an hour ago he told Tommy that he would do anything for him.

"Puffy," Sam called as he walked into the therapy office. The sheep hybrid left an office with a smile on her face. The office wasn't open yet since there were some things left to do, but it was coming along nicely. Sam could sense the warmth and comfort the place was emitting into the air.

"Sam, hello! You came to talk about Tommy, yes?" Puffy asked when she saw Sam outside her office. She sat down on a green bench, patting the spot beside her for Sam to sit down. Sam lowered himself down with a long sigh, rubbing his face tiredly. Puffy noticed. "Did something happen?"

"I expected him to be... fragile, I guess. I never expected what he told me. I got mad at something I was making for the hotel, and he told me that I could hit him. He said Wilbur and Dream did that when they were angry. We all know Dream and Wilbur did bad things, but everything I've read about Tommy never mentions their behavior towards him. I knew it wasn't good, but... they hit him to relieve stress. Now, he thinks it's okay for people to do that. He would rather me hit him than something I've made. He thinks that my creations are worth more than he is," Sam said. "He doesn't know who he is. He knows what everyone has told him. That he's a monster, the root of all the evil on this Server. People have been trying to kill him relentlessly, and he takes it. He would probably be dead by now if Sam Nook- an automaton I made to protect him- didn't step in. To add to his trauma, I think he has separation anxiety. He nearly panicked when I tried to leave."

"Until we know what Dream and Wilbur did, we might not know exactly what his mental state is. It pains me to know that no one is trying to get him to open up. He probably doesn't have anyone to turn to," Puffy muttered sadly, knowing full well that her son was responsible for this child's mental state.

"He doesn't believe that he's a child," Sam said, feeling like he could finally break down. It hurt him to see Tommy silently suffering. Nothing of the child that the history books remained, just a poorly worn mask that was crumbling as the days wore thin. Sam didn't know what he was getting into, his promise ringing in his head. He swore to protect that kid. He wouldn't stop now that he was getting a glimpse of how difficult it would be.

"As for solving the problem... First, we need to convince him to move in with you. With all these mental issues, I wouldn't be surprised if something like an unhealthy coping mechanism came from it. Maybe he doesn't eat frequently enough or has nightmares when he should be asleep. Heaven forbid, it's something worse," Puffy said with an anxious expression. Sam let his eyes fall to the ground. Tommy never fought back when someone tried to kill him...

"Thanks, Puffy. I'm going to schedule therapy sessions for him as soon as this place opens. I'll find some way to convince him to come. For now, I'm meeting with Tubbo and Ranboo," Sam said, nodding along. He gave Puffy a hug before he was off for Snowchester.

It was a little way to walk before he got there, but it was still daylight when he arrived. He knocked on the door and was ushered in by Tubbo who claimed it was far too cold to dwindle outside. The inside was warmed by a fireplace in the corner, surrounded by bookshelves and knickknacks. He could hear Ranboo talking to someone upstairs, but the voice that responded was more grumblings than English words. It sounded like the language Tommy would sometimes curse in, Piglin he called it.

"What brings you here, Sam?" Tubbo asked quietly, glancing towards the roof and a ladder that led upwards. Sam was suspicious, but he didn't ask about it. That wasn't his business nor the reason for the visit. If Tubbo and Ranboo wanted to house a Piglin for whatever reason, he would let them deal with the consequences.

"I wanted to talk about Tommy. I don't know much about him, so I don't know his triggers or what to avoid saying. Since he's your best friend, I figured you would have some insight that the history books didn't," Sam said with a tired smile.

Tubbo stopped where he stood, lips pursing together as he assessed the situation. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything, really. What was he like in his youth? During the wars? What do you know about his exile or his relationship with the Egg?" Sam asked, feeling a pit in his stomach grow. If Tubbo told the truth, he would know exactly what happened to Tommy in the perspective of someone close to him. Did Sam want to know, to realize that the kid he acted like a parent to had been through? No, that wasn't the right question. He did want to know. He wanted to help. He didn't know if his heart was strong enough to handle the information, though.

"Hmmm... I met him when we were little. I was living with Schlatt at the time, and he was drunk more often than sober. Tommy reminded me of him, a little, so I found comfort in him. But he was different from Father, so we remained fast friends. When we were eight, Wilbur asked us if we wanted to start a country. We didn't know what that meant, but we agreed anyways. We lived in a van before other people joined us, expanding what little we had to an actual country. Fundy was like our little brother," Tubbo reminisced in the past, eyes clouding over with memories. "The war began when we were nine. Fundy and I weren't a part of it, but one day, out of nowhere, Tommy was training for battles. I helped him practice, but he was the one that left with the army for various military campaigns. When he came back, he'd spend hours at his jukebox, playing Mellohi or Cats while sobbing. I didn't know how to help. I was nine, then ten, and then eleven before I went to battles with them, and finally understood what drove Tommy to being near mute."
Tubbo didn't say what he understood specifically, but Sam knew what words were left unsaid. To see people fall on the battlefield by your own hands was traumatizing for even the oldest of soldiers. Two kids, one sent out at nine and the other at eleven, would be haunted for eternity. Sam wanted to yell at everyone in L'Manberg who allowed two kids onto the battlefield.

"When he was exiled with Wilbur, I don't know entirely what happened. He was on edge most of the time, a lot more angry and fearful than normal. He jokingly calls me clingy, but in those times, he'd either yell at a wall or hug me until I had to leave while I was there. I know Wilbur hurt him, and I know Techno did nothing but watch, but I couldn't tell you what Wilbur did. Tommy shakes it off when I ask. Says something about it being fine, and going on a tangent about anything else," Tubbo skipped to the next major sourpoint after L'Manberg's independence and Schlatt's presidency.

"He doesn't know how to handle trauma," Sam muttered during one of Tubbo's pauses. Sam knew that asking Tubbo these sorts of questions would result in horrible memories on his end, but Sam needed answers from any source he could find.

"Wilbur's death crushed him. Techno's words haunted him. There was nothing I could do after the responsibility of L'Manberg had been placed on my shoulders. He hid away in the dirt shack, ignoring the world for a week or so. When he came out, he was himself again. I didn't question it. I knew Tommy would never tell the truth about what ran through his head those few days, and I figured that if he told me the truth, what little sanity I had left would have shattered. I left him alone until he acted out," Tubbo continued, sitting on the couch to curl in on himself. This was where the memories became sharper. They were more recent and some of it was Tubbo's fault. Sam waited patiently for Tubbo to continue.

"I believed Dream. I hadn't been sleeping or eating or hydrating. I was working on adrenaline and caffeine to keep an entire country running and safe. I exiled Tommy hoping that some time away would be good for him. When Dream said that Tommy was fine and didn't want any visitors, I believed him. When Dream said that Tommy hated me and L'Manberg with a fiery passion, I believed him. I went to check on Tommy once. Instead of Tommy or his home, I saw pits in the ground and a gunpowder smell in the air. Someone had blown up what little he had created. The worst part... I haven't talked to anyone about this. Dream probably saw, though. Neither of us asked Tommy what it meant because we knew and didn't want to know," Tubbo said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "A tower, thin and stacked with different blocks that didn't match, was an eyesore against the horizon. Tommy had jumped off. I still don't know to this day if Tommy was aiming for the water and trying to trick Dream, or if it was an accident that he landed safely and only had the idea to run afterwards."
Sam blinked, his body feeling light and cold. His hands were shaking. Tubbo was sobbing against a pillow he gripped tightly. He knew Tommy had a rough past, but what if the latter was true? What if the reason Tommy built and jumped off that tower was something far more hurtful than to gain freedom? Maybe, Sam thought, that was his way of gaining freedom.

"Dream had manipulated us all. He made us think that Tommy hated us, didn't want any visitors, but the opposite was true. Tommy wanted someone to come for him. He wanted someone to say they loved and cared about him even if it was a fat lie. Dream starved him of affection and happiness until Tommy developed some form of Stockholm Syndrome. It terrified me to think that my friend, my best friend and brother, believed so surely that I hated him, never cared about him, or that I was happier with him gone. I don't know how Dream did it, and any guess I could make would make me puke," Tubbo finished. "I don't know what he did with Technoblade, but when Tommy decided to join me, I know he was hurt by Techno's words. I know he resented Philza. I know that he couldn't bring himself to mourn L'Manberg, the ghosts of people he killed for that country going up in smoke and Wither spawns."

Sam exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had read about his events, sure, but all of them didn't have the same emotion that Tubbo did. None of those books took into consideration how the people felt. Not one dared to show Tommy's suffering or guilt. They were written to be triumphant stories, not accurate tragedies.

"He asked me something when Dream had me captive in his underground vault of attachments. Tommy had given up his discs to preserve my life. He had given up something that could spark more wars and give Dream all the more power, he gave up the music of his childhood that washed away whispers of phantoms, all for a few extra minutes of my life. I didn't realize at that moment. He asked me, 'Who am I without you?' and I told him that he was himself. Tommy doesn't know who that is. Tommy based his life around people, not discs. He tied his self worth to me, Wilbur, Dream, Technoblade, even Ranboo for a half second. He did what he had to do in order to make us stay by his side, and in the end, we all deserted him. Tommy doesn't know who he is by himself. I thought that staying away for a while, being with Ranboo, would give Tommy enough breathing room. But I found him at L'Crater, and I knew that I couldn't abandon him until I gave his life a purpose," Tubbo finished the story, tears slowing down as he sniffled. "Thank you, Sam. You don't know how much working on the hotel means to Tommy. Everything he works on gets taken from him. Every sin is placed on his shoulders. Technoblade called Tommy Theseus, and Dream calls him Icarus, but deep down, I think we all know that his name is Atlas, the titan cursed with holding up the sky so humanity may breathe."

Sam didn't know too much about myths. He knew Theseus slayed the Minotaur, and that was Tommy's real name. He didn't know, however, what that had to do with Tommy himself. Icarus had flown too close to the sun, and ended up drowning in the ocean when the wax in his wings melted. He could see how Dream related Tommy to that idea. Sam didn't know anything about Atlas, or what his legend was about. He decided he would look it up later. To be fair, Sam acquainted Tommy with Orpheus, willing to go to the Underworld for his love but filled with so much doubt that he lost in the end. Sam knew that all these people were tragedies that never recieved happily ever afters.

"I want to change that. I don't want Tommy to be a hero or a legend or some story in a history book that paints him as a villainous protagonist. I want Tommy to be sixteen, and enjoy the life left for him. His past may be absolute shit, but I can make his future something better," Sam swore, his eyes setting in determination. Tubbo smiled from his spot on the couch, wiping away what few tears remained.

"Thank you, Sam," Tubbo whispered.

———

"You into Greek mythology now? I know you were a nerd, but it can't be this deep," Tommy said as he picked up one of the books on Sam's desk. The Warden watched as Tommy dragged the chair that sat in front of his desk to the side so he was that much closer to Sam. It was becoming more frequent that Tommy visited Dream in the prison. Whenever Sam Nook would clock Tommy out, the blonde would be at Pandora's Vault, requesting another visit. By protocol, Sam couldn't refuse any visitors unless the prisoner was being bad. Dream was almost an angel now that Tommy stopped by every afternoon for at least an hour.

"I thought it would be fun to know a little more about myths. The Greeks were an interesting bunch," The Warden said. The Greeks Sam spoke of were people from a different server that basically self destructed. Some of the writings were able to be transcribed by explorers who ventured into broken Servers, and that's when everyone realized how advanced the Greece server had been in its prime. Famous writers, philosophers, warriors, and more had made Greece a thriving community of City-States that constantly had civil wars.

"You could say that again. At least the Norse have epic gods, the Greek just have a bunch of cheaters. I tell you what, though, some of their gods are a little cool. I'd hang out with Hermes or Dionysus any day. I would probably cower in fear if Artemis ever showed up at my doorstep, she's that much of a badass. Oh! Hestia is cool, too. Hera needs to learn from The Queen," Tommy snorted. Sam forgot that Tommy grew up with a literature buff. Tommy probably knew more about these old stories than he was willing to admit.

"I suppose I shouldn't have expected any other answers from you," Sam said with a fond smile, looking up from his paperwork to see Tommy thrumming through the pages. Tommy turned to him with an angry look, so Sam decided to elaborate what he meant. "Very intelligent, knowing the names and stories of an ancient race. And to imagine you know the Norse, too? One must never underestimate Tommy." Sam's smile grew when Tommy's face flushed red, hiding his face in the book in embarrassment.

Sam turned back to the paperwork, looking over the visitors log. It wasn't only Tommy, but it was mostly Tommy. Sam felt sick to his stomach. Why did Tommy need to see his abuser so much? Was Tommy suffering from Stockholm Syndrome even now? Was Dream manipulating Tommy?

"Tommy, I don't want to pry, but can I ask why you visit Dream so much?" Sam asked, watching for Tommy's reaction. There wasn't one. He was lazily reading the book, cheek leaning against his palm that settled on the desk. Sam had cleaned off a space when Tommy had followed him to his office instead of going home. Sam probably should have turned Tommy away, but he needed answers about the Dream situation.

"He grounds me. Reminds me of things," Tommy said absentmindedly, turning the page of the book. Sam stared at him as if he could discern the truth about those words just by looking at Tommy.

"What does he remind you of?" Sam asked because he knew that staring at Tommy wasn't getting him anywhere.

"The past, I guess. Who I am. What I am. I'm a bad person, you know? Selfish, and dependent on others. I have little worth. Really, everything I do is..." Tommy trailed off with a long sigh. "I like hanging out with him, sometimes. When I'm around him, I feel like we're friends. He understands me in a way that other people don't. He told me that I was like a spark. I was the spark that ignited Wilbur's TnT, and I was the spark that had burned Tubbo. I was part of the kindling that Niki used to destroy the L'Mantree."

"Tommy, no," Sam dropped his pencil. He looked over at Tommy who remained nonchalant. Sam felt his heart break while Tommy couldn't care less. It was a lie Tommy believed was the truth. It was a fact that Tommy had long since accepted. Sam hated it. After all his trauma, someone had convinced Tommy that it was his fault when it wasn't. Some of it probably was but not all of it. Some of it people blamed Tommy for when it wasn't his fault. "Tommy, you're worth more than what Dream says."

"I'm worth only as much as the people around me say I am," Tommy looked up confused. He didn't understand Sam's reaction, and ghat made Sam's heartbreak even worse.

"Tommy, you can't rely on Dream for your sense of self worth. He doesn't care about you. He speaks in lies. He twists what you see for his own benefit. You are so much more than what he wants you to believe," Sam said, pushing away the paperwork as he turned to Tommy. The blonde flinched back but didn't protest against the hug he received. "It isn't right to take what other people say about you to heart, like it's the cold, hard truth."

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered in response as he wrapped his arms around Sam. The older man sighed as he ruffled Tommy's hair. They would work past this, one way or another. Sam would find a way to get Tommy the help he deserves, and that would be the end of it.