Tommyinnit Oneshots

When did you realize I wasn't good enough? Tell me before I go

Tommy Innit was a survivor. That was a fact no one could deny. Despite everything he had been through, he remained as cheerful as his toddler self had been. Sure, he now harbored trauma, and was prone to panic attacks at the slightest triggers. But he was happy most of the time. He could distract himself from the pain. He didn't need therapy, he didn't need people, he was fine by himself. He had always been fine alone. He learned how to be fine, because there wasn't anything that could be done if he wasn't fine. He had survived wars, the terrifying bloodshed that haunted his dreams. He had survived exile, when he was all alone with only one person to lean on- even though that person injured him on the daily. Tommy had even survived after death. He persisted in Limbo, holding his soul together long enough for Dream to yank him back. Tommy had been able to stay smiling even though everything had happened.

But... he didn't know if he could survive this. He didn't know if being faced with the fact that he had been so thoroughly replaced with someone who was leagues better than ever could be. Tommy had been fine with Ranboo's existence. He could handle Tubbo replacing him. He could handle Phil and Techno replacing him. He could handle Niki replacing him. Hell, he could even handle when Dream replaced him, finding Ranboo a much better puppet than Tommy could ever be. It was seeing Wilbur and Ranboo together that truly messed with his mind. To see his brother, the man who had scarred him the most but had loved him so sincerely at one point, sent Tommy spiraling. Nothing made any sense. He couldn't force a smile. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't hurt as he saw Wilbur through an arm over Ranboo's shoulder. His face burned with tears but not a single drop fell. His body collapsed into the muddy grass, his fingers brushing against the blades. He wanted to rage, to scream and yell and demand that Ranboo stay the hell out of his life. But he couldn't. Because Ranboo was nice to him when Tommy deserved anything but. Because Ranboo was so much better than him. Because Ranboo made people happy in a way Tommy never could.

It was this realization that Tommy couldn't survive. He was a goner. He may have been breathing, his lungs may have been moving, but nothing else worked. He couldn't think. He couldn't see or feel or hear. His soul had completely dissipated at the notion that Tommy wasn't needed. He didn't matter. He didn't matter to anyone. His best friend and family had long since decided he wasn't worth it. He only wondered when they knew. When was the moment they had realized this fact, like he had? Was he just slow? Did they all think he was useless?

The pain went away with his newfound apathy. If he didn't matter, why should he care about anything? People would hate him no matter what he said. The world would keep moving no matter what he did. The sands of time would keep trickling down even if he didn't do a single thing to make each grain worth it. Tommy laid in the grass long into the night. He didn't feel the cold. His skin tried to send responses to his brain that it was time to go inside, to huddle beneath the blankets, but his mind had turned off. It no longer took any information in. Anything that happened around Tommy- to him- didn't bypass the complete lockdown his brain had initiated. It was time to let go, every part of him decided. It was time for nature to reclaim what belonged to it. Tommy had cheated death once before. He wouldn't do it again. Whatever happened to him wouldn't be unwarranted. This was his fate. His curse. The punishment he deserved for not being enough.

He should have told someone that. At the very least, he should have told someone who still gave the barest minimum of attention to him that he had given up. If he had, Ranboo probably would have left him alone. Instead, the half-Enderman looked at the disheveled boy with blank eyes, and decided he needed to take Tommy home like he was a helpless animal on the side of the street. Tommy, obviously, wasn't aware about the change in scenery. He hadn't noticed when Ranboo tried talking to him, or when the taller one picked him up to carry him away. He was given a bath, fresh clothes, and someone had to force feed him. Tommy was none the wiser. When someone gave him a command, he did it without any fuss or change in expression. Tommy didn't notice when Michael tried to play with him, when Tubbo would beg for some remnant of who Tommy was, or when Ranboo would sit by him long into the night like he was scared Tommy would leave. He didn't care one bit when Puffy stopped by, her eyes shining with concern as she tried every trick she knew to make Tommy react in the slightest. Tommy didn't do anything. He let the waves of noise, the blobs of color, and the softness of something weighing him down whisk him away into a daze of not quite asleep but definitely not awake.