Part 2 of I Am Broken
Wilbur

Wilbur remembered the day vividly. He and Tommy were making fun of each other, their laughter bouncing around the small alcove that turned away from the main hall. Tommy had fallen into his lap, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he giggled. Wilbur had his eyes closed shut with tears almost dripping down. When Wilbur looked down at Tommy, he noticed that Tommy wasn't laughing anymore. When Wilbur rolled him over, Tommy's lips had gone purple and red spots framed his face. Wilbur screamed until Phil came running. Tommy was carried away into the car. That was the last time Tommy had been awake. Months had passed with Tommy stuck in that coma. Wilbur didn't even know what happened. Was it the laughter? Was it something Wilbur did?

Now, Wilbur was sitting on the couch with an awake Tommy. But this wasn't his Tommy. This Tommy was like a terrified wild animal with everyone, and while his trauma wasn't clear to pinpoint what caused it, Wilbur could see all of it. Tommy refused the company of Techno no matter the situation. He would panic if anyone other than Puffy or Ranboo came over. Tommy had sobbed himself sick when Tubbo came over. Tommy would normally hide in his room, but when he came out, it was easy to see how he flinched at nearly everything. Especially Wilbur. If he walked a little too fast in the general direction of Tommy, the boy was scrambling back with a pained expression. Another noticeable thing was that he would stare worryingly if Phil got too close to Wilbur, and that was something they couldn't explain without diving into the unfavorable ideas of what Tommy's past life was like.

Wilbur had been watching a movie when Tommy came down the stairs. Wilbur looked at him cautiously. Tommy looked like he wanted to say something, but all he did was sigh while settling down on the opposite side of the couch. Wilbur tried to keep his attention on the movie. He didn't want to scare Tommy off when he had finally reached out to him. Wilbur couldn't help it when his eyes darted towards him. If Tommy noticed, he didn't show it. Tommy's attention was within his own head with his eyes pinned on the wall behind the television. Wilbur was tempted to ask what had Tommy lost in thought, but he wasn't sure how the blonde would respond. Wilbur didn't want to harm what fragile comfort Tommy was (hopefully) finding by being there.

"Wilbur, will you do something for me?" Tommy said unexpectedly. Wilbur's eyes widened as he looked over. Tommy's lips were pressed into a firm line, and he was staring intently at the middle of the coffee table. Wilbur could see an urgent darkness swimming around in those grayish blue orbs. If this was his Tommy, Wilbur would have made a big show of saying 'no' but doing it anyways. This time, Wilbur stood to his feet in preparation. Some part of him hoped Tommy would ask for a hug. Wilbur had been dying to wrap Tommy up in his arms since Tommy woke up from his coma. It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from crossing that boundary. Tommy was filled with enough anxiety around him without Wilbur forcing physical contact.

Tommy stood up, taking a small step towards Wilbur. Tommy grabbed both of Wilbur's wrists, and Wilbur let his arms go slack so Tommy could do whatever he wanted. Tommy placed one of Wilbur's hands on his shoulders. Tommy positioned the other one to be diagonal from Tommy's face. Tommy let his hands drop to his side, leaving Wilbur's hands where they were. Wilbur looked at his hands in confusion. What did Tommy want him to do? Did he want Wilbur to pet his hair or something? Tommy had his eyes closed, but since Wilbur wasn't doing anything, he huffed as he opened them. Tommy decided now was the time to explain what he waned. "Just... fucking hit me or some shit."

"What?" It came out before his brain truly processed what it was that Tommy wanted. Wilbur's hands remained where Tommy put them, but his hands had begun trembling as he searched Tommy's face for proof that this was a joke. It had to be a joke. Wilbur couldn't handle it if it wasn't a joke.

"Hit me. Or just yell at me. Pull my hair if that floats your fucking boat," Tommy continued with an exasperated expression because all of this was obvious to him. He was acting like it should have been obvious to Wilbur. It wasn't. Wilbur wasn't prepared for this sort of thing. There had been times when he would fight with Tommy, but those had always been arguments and debates. Never once had it crossed his mind to seriously hurt Tommy. An elbow jab or pinching his ear when Tommy said something stupid, sure, but Wilbur would never raise a hand to Tommy in this way. But Tommy was looking at him so expectedly. This was more than Tommy asking to be hit, he was almost begging for it. Tommy- in his head- needed to be hit, and Wilbur didn't know why. He didn't want to know.

Wilbur slowly lowered his hand into Tommy's hair. The boy's eyes closed, face tensing as he prepared for pain. Wilbur felt a sharp pain in his heart as he simply ran his fingers through Tommy's hair. He moved the strands in between his fingers like he did when they were younger. Tommy always had Wilbur's favorite hair to play with, and that didn't change even after the soul displacement. Tommy's eyes slammed open as he felt the comfort. Wilbur leaned down to look Tommy in the eyes. Wilbur felt tears forming in his orbs at how confused Tommy looked. "I swear to you, I will never hurt you. I'm never going to hit you. I promise."

This wasn't the right thing to say to Tommy. The blonde pushed Wilbur away from him, eyes flashing in the fearful kind of anger. It was times like this that Wilbur saw Tommy as a wild animal that needed help. Tommy was shaking, arms wrapping around himself like that would stop him from trembling or crying. "Don't fucking say that! Because you've already hit me. I can't... why the hell did you say that, you motherfucker!? You can't promise something like that. You told me every damn time that would be the last and you fucking lied! You stopped saying that eventually because we both knew you were fucking lying the entire time! Don't pretend you love me. You don't. You can't."

Wilbur wanted to say something reassuring, but Tommy had bolted out the door before Wilbur could say anything. All Wilbur could do was watch as Tommy ran down the street. At some point, Phil had pulled him into a hug, saying Tommy would be back. Wilbur had the distinct feeling that Tommy wouldn't do it willingly.

——

Clay, or as most people called him: Dream was walking down the street with his hands in his hoodie pockets when Tommy came barreling at him from the opposite direction. Tommy stopped several feet away from Dream. The man opened his mouth to call out to his friend- practically his little brother like Foolish. Before Dream could say anything, Tommy had his hands over his eyes, chanting 'you're not there' as a mantra. Dream swallowed thickly.

It was one of the most difficult things in the world for him to watch one of the closest people in his lives crumble in fear at the sight of him. Tommy was antsy around everyone, but there was this especially extreme reaction that overtook him when he saw Dream. The other didn't have any guesses as to why. What did the other him do that scarred Tommy this horribly? Dream felt his nerves spike at actually knowing, but he did feel some urge to punch the version of himself that hurt Tommy.

Seeing as Tommy was still frozen in place, Dream sat down on the nearby bench. Dream turned his back to Tommy that way the boy didn't have to see his face. Dream whistled briefly. Tommy had stopped whispering, and Dream heard him shuffling around. Dream felt Tommy sit behind him, their backs pressed together lightly. Dream didn't look behind him as he started fidgeting with his pants. There was a lot Dream could have said, but he settled on waiting in silence for Tommy to say what he needed.

Dream wished he would have mentally prepared more. His other version had been the leader of the army that threatened Tommy and Wilbur's country. Dream orchestrated Tommy's first death by using a traitor, and he killed Tommy in an arrow duel. At the end of it, he took Tommy's prized possessions. Dream aided in Wilbur's descent into madness, even going so far as to supply the TnT that blew up Tommy's home. Dream had turned one of Tommy's pranks with a new friend into a big deal that had Tommy exiled from his country by his best friend who was a teenager with the responsibilities of a president. Dream learned all what exile was like. What his other self had done. He manipulated Tommy into believing Dream was his only friend, sabotaging most attempts for others to visit Tommy, and the constant shift between hurting Tommy and providing comfort that Tommy lost when Wilbur died. When Tommy escaped, Dream hunted him down, and destroyed his home a third time. Dream threatened Tommy and Tubbo until their was a final showdown where he almost killed Tubbo in front of Tommy. Luckily, Tommy said Dream was put in the prison he had been building for unspecified purposes. Dream wished that was the end, but Tommy explained the prison visit. Dream nearly puked at the thought of murdering someone who was like his little brother.

"I hate you! I hate you so fucking much! I hate you for what you did and what you didn't do! I hate you because I... I love in the worst fucking ways. When I'm around you, I feel conditioned to be your friend, but also when I have a knife, I just want to stab you with it. You don't make me a good person!" Tommy said, subconsciously repeating what he said in the prison. Tommy looked up with an arm thrown over his eyes to help his crying. "You broke me. I can't see kindness without fucking wondering if they're trying to get something from me. I asked Wilbur to hit me like he would do in Pogtopia, and he promised that he would never do that. Why are you all different?! Why are you all so fucking nice? What the hell do you want from me?!"

Dream didn't respond. How was he supposed to respond to that? The Dream Tommy spoke about fucked him up badly, and Dream was supposed believe Tommy could be around him? Was it fair for Dream to bear the burden of sins he never committed? Dream sighed into his hands. He gathered his thoughts before he began talking. "You... you don't have to forgive this person. You don't have to force yourself to be around me when I look like your killer. But... none of us want anything from you. You were our friend, our family, Tommy. We love in the pure ways. This probably means nothing from me, but you're like my little brother so I have to say it anyways. Find someone, anyone, who you can find comfort in. It sounds like you need it."

"Fuck off," Tommy whispered back as he stood up. Dream didn't look behind him as Tommy walked away. Dream stared up at the sky instead, looking for answers that would never be written in the stars.