Take My Wings

Chapter 4

Tommy's dreams were plagued memories. Old memories, memories that still haunted him, even months, years later. In his dream, he'd awoken, the tall figure of his brother standing next to him as they watched Schlatt stand on L'manberg's podium, the too-familiar words echoing across the faceless crowd;

'I hear by revoke the citizen ship...of Wilbur Soot, and Tommy Innit!'

The people in the crowd turned the two boys, their expressionless faces making Tommy recoil, stepping away from the fear, the agony, the worry.

The world began to spin, and suddenly Tommy was standing, watching helplessly as once again the walls of his home were torn down. Wilbur's face looked solemn, although Tommy could not see his eyes. But he remembered, he remembered the pain that'd flicked through them, the hurt. 'My son-my son is tearing down the walls in front of me-the walls I built to keep him safe. I promised him this world Tommy-I promised him this world.'

Wilbur turned to Tommy, and Tommy tried to speak-but no words came out. They were chucked to the void, Wilbur's smile breaking his heart, just as it had all those months ago.

His voice melted into sorrow as it sounded again, although it slowly began to fade.

'I heard there was a special place...where men could go and emancipate...the brutality and the tyranny of their rulers...well this place is real you needn't fret, with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo fuck Eret. It's a very big and not blown up L'manberg. My L'manberg...my L'manberg...my L'manberg...my L'manberg...

Imagery flicked through his mind, the old, dark walls of Pog Topia, buttons covering them, Wilbur, growing slowly insane as the days passed, the look in his eyes one of a mad man.

'Are we the bad guys? Then let's be the bad guys.'

'Yeah, daddy Dream!'

'Blood for the blood god!'

'Then die like one!'

The memories flew by, each darker than the last. He remembered the tnt, the explosions. The ash, the fire, the rain. He remembered Wilbur's body, lifeless and unmoving. He remembered the way tears had streamed down his face as he wailed for his fallen comrade, his fallen brother.

A part of Tommy knew he'd always love his brother, even if he was mad, insane. Even if the rest of him despised the man, despised what he'd done.

'You'll never be president.'

He remembered burning George's house down, Ranboo, his newest friend at the time by his side. He remembered his best friend exiling him, hatred glimmering in his eyes, all remnants of his best friend slipping away with the wind.

Finally, he remembered exile. Dream, his abuser friend, who'd clip his wings, pull out his baby feathers as they'd grown in. His party, the one which no one had come, except Dream, who had given him the trident 'dream rider'.

In those long, lonely months Dream had been the only person that'd been there for him. Dream was Tommy's only friend-

The dream continued, many of his deepest memories dragged up from the depths of his mind.

It felt like an eternity before he woke up.

He opened his eyes slowly, weighed down by a sensation, one of someone who'd been asleep for a long, long time. A sharp pain ran up his back as he moved, his wings tucked comfortably behind him as he lay. He panicked, not recognising the spruce roof above his head.

The smell of the blanket he was beneath was familiar, but not recognisable. For some reason, it reminded him of his early days, tucked away in the woods with his family, during the days before the wars, before his life had turned into...whatever it currently was.