Hope (Tommyinnit winged AU)

Wings

Night fell and the moon rose, yet Tommy remained where he was. By midnight, he was completely numb, and by morning, he was practically stone.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Tommy got up. He realized now. Dream only wanted to hurt him, never help him. He hadn't been taught to be like the other members of the SMP. He was being taught to be a puppet, a toy for Dream to play with. A hatred toward the man fell over Tommy, and he stood up.

The blood still hadn't stopped flowing from his face, so he went to his tent and got some bandages, wrapping them around his face. When he exited, he could see a smoking crater, where his vault used to be.

His back itched, and Tommy reached back to scratch it.

Feathers ruffled under his fingers. Tommy shreiked, whirling around, but nobody was there.

Then he realized.

Tommy rushed to the beach and stared into the water. Slowly, he focused all his energy into his back.

Beautiful red wings spread from behind him, and Tommy let out a small laugh. He flapped them a couple times, but when he tried to fly, he fell face first into the water.

Tommy didn't care. He was too excited at his new discovery. He whooped, his wings fluttering along as if sharing his feelings.

"Phil is very well protected, but if he wasn't, I'd remove his wings myself."

Tommy stopped, remembering Dream's words. His celebration ended quickly, and the Avian ran back to his tent.

There was one thing Tommy had snagged and kept hidden before exile. It was his deceased brother's, which Tommy cherished greatly, though even the sight of it brought back horrible memories. Tommy grabbed his bed and dragged it away from its spot, revealing a small barrel. He opened it and reached in, feeling wool under his touch.

Wilbur's pogtopia trechcoat slid into his hands. When Wilbur was buried, they had dressed him in his L'Manburg revolution uniform, and Tommy received the cloak. Tommy fingers the ragged edges of the hole in the cloak, where Phil had stabbed Wilbur. He slowly flattened his wings against his back, tucking the ends under his belt. Then he slipped the cloak over his body. The wings seemed to vanish under it, his back looking completely normal.

Tommy grabbed a few peices of food that had survived the bombing of the vault, and set out. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. He just had to get away.

Sorry for the short chapter, I'll make a long one next time :D. We've got a lot in store!