Tommyinnit Oneshots

Smoke Dancing in the Wind

Part three of Cigarette Burns on my Heart and Wishing You Were Sober
Prompt from @LitzGames

Tommy nudged a stack of stone with his foot. It didn't move an inch. Partially because of its weight, but also because he didn't put any pressure against the blocks. At this point, Tommy was just tiring his leg out with all the swinging back and forth. He kept nudging the stone even when his leg was starting to burn. It was becoming a habit that Tommy would sit on one of Wilbur's outdoor chests with the stone stacks in front of him until Wilbur decided where to put it. Wilbur was doing something with it. Probably. It honestly could have been busywork because Wilbur didn't want to deal with him. Maybe Wilbur was using it to leave dick statues everywhere. Tommy would have laughed at the thought, but all that came out was a wheezy sigh.

Tommy pulled out his box of cigarettes. He pulled one out with fingers that trembled in the cool breeze coming up from the Las Nevadas lake. Tommy pulled out a silver boxy lighter that he had been given by Wilbur back in Pogtopia. It was meant to light up TnT, but now Tommy used it to burn away at what was left of his lungs. Tommy lit the cigarette. He breathed in a puff of the smoke before exhaling it into the same breeze that gave him trembly hands. It wasn't like the cigarette could warm his body, but it did make his body shake less because of anxiety. All that had him feeling like a leaf in a hurricane was the night winds starting to roam across their hunting grounds.

"What are you doing?" Someone asked Tommy. It didn't surprise Tommy that he didn't hear anyone coming towards him. He may have been egotistical, but in his mind, Tommy had acknowledged that he was terrible at sensing other people approaching. Tommy didn't flinch when he heard the noise, either. He just didn't care enough. Tommy wouldn't be surprised if this was someone coming to kill him. Maybe it was Foolish returning to share his disappointment. Maybe Wilbur finally pulled his head out of his ass to see that his little brother was choosing one of the most painful ways to kill himself. Tommy didn't care what any of the options were. Death had been coming for him since his revival. At least, when he died now, Wilbur wouldn't be there. There was a chance that Ghostbur would be there. Even if he wasn't, Tommy could handle death alone as long as Wilbur wasn't there to manipulate him.

Tommy looked over to see it wasn't any of the previous options. Well, it could have been the first, but Techno didn't look all that ready to kill anyone. He was in casual clothing of a loose fitting white shirt tucked into high waisted pants along with boots. Techno didn't have any weapons on hand, and his mask had been discarded to leave behind his animalistic eyes and pink hair. Techno stood at the edge of the house like he had been planning to go inside until he saw Tommy. Techno's nose twitched to inform Tommy that Techno had smelled the cigarette, not seen Tommy.

Unless this was all a hallucination. Tommy had been in control of that since his exile. His loneliness had driven him to believe that his friends were there when they weren't. Tubbo was a frequent arrival. When Tommy had stayed with Techno in the tundra, he had overcome most of his hallucinations. He would occasional believe that he saw Tubbo standing in the snow, or Dream staring at him from the corner of his bedroom. Techno had calmed down Tommy from a panic attack that came from hallucinating Dream standing right beside his bed. Tommy had one or two in the prison, but his fear of Dream kept him in the moment. Tommy hadn't hallucinated since Wilbur came back, but Tommy supposed his problems would follow him everywhere. In what other scenario would Techno peacefully approach him? Tommy would have cried at the thought, but his whimper sounded more like a shrill, muted scream.

Techno strode forwards, hands placed in front of him as if approaching a wild animal. The thing was that Tommy was anything but wild. He was messy, tired-looking, and breathing shallowly with a cigarette in between his fingers. Tommy blew out a slow puff of smoke. He let his hand with the cigarette drop to his lap while his other hand rubbed his eyes gingerly. Tommy began his mantra of: 'you're not real.' Tommy opened his eyes again to see that Techno wasn't gone. He just looked more concerned. Tommy groaned, head rolling back to see the clouds parting to reveal stars.