absolution.

carmine.

cw: mentions of scars, the results/trauma of being in the dsmp, beginnings of a panic attack, explosions, doomsday, tubbo's second death, the sludge villain incident, fighting

please let me know if there's any more!

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"Tommy," Tari starts. She's taken her time to visit her cafe today. She has The Tone, and when the mentioned teen looks at her, her round face is scrunched in suspicion, fear, and concern with her lips into a frown. Her brown eyes seem to bore into the ex-soldier's very soul that makes him shiver. Tari's aura makes him freeze despite her being 5'4*, short compared to Tommy's 6'3* stature. There's a hand on her hip, her body leaning against the counter a bit, and Tommy knows he's caught for something. Not for the coffee spilt on the counter.

Tommy belatedly freezes, the messy cup he holds shaking in his hands. He sets it down as well as a towel he brought to clean the small mug, the cup having spilled earlier due to the permanent tremor in his hands the SMP gave him. Nerve damage or some shit — something both respawns and totems couldn't heal.

Either way, Tubbo's taught him to fear short people from the few instances he's made the moobloom-hybrid panic for him. It either ended with defenestration or a day to brand a life-lesson into his head with constant reminders. That's why he's scared. (No, no, not because Dream reprimanded the blond just like that, with that convincing disappointed tone and act, Netherite armor and weapons gleaming as he picks up his sword with some trinitrotoluene and a flint 'n' steel and --

Tari will not hurt me, Tommy repeats like a mantra in his head. Tari will not hurt me. It's not an oath, a promise, a condition in a deal, nor a declaration; it's the truth.)

"Tommy," she repeats, more gently as she slowly sets a hand on his shoulder. It snaps him out of it, making him jump in the process.

"...Y-Yes, Big T?"

Tari smiles just like how Tubbo would, yet it still portrays a bit of anger and disappointment. He'll never admit it, but Tommy shies away just a bit. "Why, pray tell, are there bandages around your arms? And why haven't you told me, or gone to the hospital?"

Ah.

Tommy looks down; there, a little part of his bandaged forearm revealed by his long-sleeved uniform. It's a bit stained from the leaked americano, but the strips of fabric intertwining themselves along his arm is glaringly clear. Tommy lets his hand hover over it, as if to hide it like a secret.

Did he not roll the sleeve down enough when he washed his hands? Shit.

"Tommy," Tari stresses. The blond looks around and grins sheepishly; thank Prime the cafe's empty at the moment.

"Well you see, Big Man," Tommy begins eloquently, picking at the edges of his bandages. The coffee seeps into the fabrics like ink to paper. "I'm fine! These were just covering up my old scars from before!"

...Not exactly the truth, but most of it. It was more like the wounds from his vigilante rounds were light, just a few bruises from blocks Clara couldn't get because she was stopping something else. Yet the only thing keeping Tommy from panicking because Dream was back again fuck fuck oh Prime when the admin finds him Tommy's going to die again no no no no NO — was to wrap them tightly until they felt trapped. As well as stuff a few golden apple slices in his mouth (turns out they have the same effect as the full apple) for the regeneration when he knows he shouldn't be wasting them.

She'll understand regardless; Tari knows a bit about the Dream SMP. It was a spur of the moment decision when Tommy told her a few pieces about the server — just vague things like "the war" and "the betrayal." After all, the woman has given him so much shit for free, and he wouldn't — couldn't just accept free things. Everything comes with a price, the entire history of the Dream SMP proof enough. Tommy didn't have anything of good value on him (besides the golden apples; he's still waiting to see if a seed will grown them and not normal ones), so information it was.