Taken- A Dream SMP Fanfic

Chapter Six- Something's Wrong

Nothing was right anymore. 

The world was all the same. The birds sang to herald the sun that still rose every morning and set every evening. The clouds still soared over the sky that stayed bold and blue. The grass still waved in the wind that never ceased to blow. But inside the house you shared with Philza and his family, everything was wrong.

You had been correct a few days ago when you felt that change was coming. When you knew that nothing would be the same. 

You were right.

In a few short days, Tommy had gotten much worse. He rarely spoke and refused to leave his room. His temperature was normal, but his eyes were cloudy and dim. He never spoke in straight sentences and couldn't carry a conversation. Most strange of all, he wouldn't go anywhere near his family. Although Tubbo, Phil, and finally Wilbur had tried to find the problem, he'd locked his door and refused to let them in. You had tried with a little bit more success, but not much more. Tommy would occasionally let you in, but he would barely talk to you and the emotions spiraling out of him were so intense that it was hard for you to concentrate on him. 

Nobody knew what was wrong. 

"Y/N?" Phil called tiredly from the couch. You joined him and gave him a sad smile. "No change?" you guessed.

"I don't know what to do," Phil admitted. "He's not getting better and he's not himself. I have no idea if there's even anything that can help." 

"He's not getting worse anymore," you pointed out. Phil sighed. "That doesn't help very much," he said. "I mean, it does a little bit, but I can't help worrying." 

"It's nothing I've ever seen before, and I've been a lot of places and seen a lot of things," you heard Technoblade mutter from somewhere in the house. You turned back to Phil. "I can try to talk to him again," you offered. "I don't know if he'll listen to me, but I'll give it a shot."

"Thank you," Phil said. "Please do."

"Give him this, too," Tubbo requested, entering the room. He held out a small stuffed dog that you knew Tommy was very fond of. You had often seen them playing with it before everything changed. You took the dog and smiled at Tubbo. He smiled back. "Good luck."

You took a deep breath, then strode down the hall to Tommy's room. "Tommy?" you called softly. "It's me, Y/N." Tommy didn't answer. "Can I come in?" you pressed. A long moment. 

"If you want."

You stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. Tommy didn't look up from his spot on the floor near his bed. You sat down next to him. For a while you both just sat there in silence. You tried to get a handle on the emotions crashing into you from Tommy. Lately, they had been in a constant jumble of angry happy sad scared furious lonely overwhelmed overwhelmed overwhelmed. It was clearly too much for the young boy to handle. But today, they were different. More... organized. If that was a way to describe it. Instead of all at once, it seemed that there was a pattern of sad, angry, confused, scared, lonely, defensive, and then back to sad. It was an interesting change, but maybe it would help him understand you better.

"How's it going?" you asked. Tommy looked up at you. His eyes were still clouded, but they didn't look as dim. He blinked and looked away. The misery you could sense broke your heart. "I'm... fine," he whispered. "You know you aren't," you corrected him gently. He looked at the dog in your hand. "Is that..." he started. You handed it to him. "Tubbo said to give you this," you explained. Tommy's eyes narrowed. "Why... what does he... want from... me?" he asked. "He wants you to get better," you answered. "No!" Tommy yelled. You jumped, startled. Rage crashed into you in sharp spiked bursts. "I'm not... he's not..." he subsided, muttering quietly. You took the dog from where he'd thrown it on the ground and set it back in his lap. He just stared at it. "Why..." he whispered. "What if... he doesn't want... not my fault... his problem... his problem." You didn't understand. Was there something he was blaming himself for? "What is it?" you asked. "Nothing... it's nothing... there's nothing... I'm..." Tommy mumbled in response. "Yes?" you prompted. "I'm fine... nothing to worry about... everything is fine," he whispered, leaning into you. Your heart lifted. That was the closest to a full sentence he'd gotten in a while. "Are you sure?" you asked, putting an arm across his back. "Of course I'm sure why wouldn't I be sure there's absolutely nothing to worry about everything is fine," he said quickly. 

He stopped, breathing heavily, and looked at you. His eyes seemed clearer than they had been for the past week. You smiled at him. "Do you feel any better now?" you asked. He nodded, then blinked a few times and nodded again. "Go now..." he said. "I want... I want to be alone."

You gave him a hug and left the room, closing the door quietly behind you. Phil was still on the couch. He looked up when you entered the living room. "How is he?" he asked. "Better!" you exclaimed, falling onto the couch beside him. "There were a few straight sentences and he seemed to understand what I was saying. Also his eyes were clearer and his emotions were in patterns instead of jumbled." 

You could see the hope appearing on Phil's face. "Seriously?" he asked. You smiled and nodded. Phil settled back on the couch, relief clear in his expression. "Can you check on him tomorrow as well?" he asked. "Of course," you answered. 

***

Things were finally starting to get better again. Tommy had improved drastically over the span of a week. Dream had come around to visit and talked to Techno about something that left the pigman as furious as the last time Dream had come. Tommy had finally let Tubbo into his room and the two of them had talked for at least an hour. You were starting to think that things were okay again.

But then Dream came with an accusation that you would never have thought you'd hear.

"Technoblade is trying to destroy our world."