In the Shadows We Fight (for justice and ourselves)

Why don't you let the tears fall?

If he was being honest, he really didn't expect to wake up. In his last moments of wakefulness, he had said the most important thing he had ever wanted to say. He had protected Nemesis from dying herself, and while he didn't know if she would escape, he had enough faith in her abilities to trust that she would manage. His dreams- if they could be called that- gave no indication that he would ever be conscious again. It was a warm, caressing shadowy place that held him like a safety net in its clutches. It reminded him, strangely enough, of when he fell asleep at Wilbur's house, but he wasn't able to remember that specific moment. He didn't remember Wilbur in the dark place. It was like his brain had been filled with calming waters or cotton. He could push through it if he wanted to, but he didn't see a point in subjecting himself to that pain of frigid waters and the bad type of darkness. Tommy would remain in the safe zone that wasn't quite blinding lights or all encompassing darkness. Tommy preferred to tread the middle ground in a sleepy daze that kept him from feeling anything too deeply.

He would have stayed that way, but he felt something grip his hand. It wasn't the shadows. It was something firm and warm that had an inconsistent grip. Sometimes it was light as a feather and other times it was threatening to break his bones. Tommy wanted to fade into the abyss that beckoned him, but that grip held him in the in between of living and dying, wakefulness and dream. Tommy was frustrated that the hand wouldn't ease away. That it wouldn't let go. In his mind, he wasn't sure what the hand wanted, what it belonged to, or why it seemed so keen on keeping him the slightest bit aware. Seconds ticked by, and that irritation began to strengthen into annoyance. After what seemed like days, Tommy was completely writhing in justified anger. Finally, Tommy stopped trying to sink into the darkness. He woke up not out of spite, but out of a need for vengeance on whoever was stubbornly persistent on keeping him awake.

Tommy concentrated on the feeling until a path was cut across the shadows. He frequently grew wary on his journey, but he would only rest for a moment before getting back on track. The shadows would call out promises of happiness and blissful ignorance. Tommy wouldn't give them the pleasure of a response. Each step Tommy took upwards unlocked a new emotion or memory. He was starting to piece together why he was there and who he was. He remembered his name, both of them, and he remembered why he had two in the first place. Tommy found himself recalling his friendships with Tubbo, Ranboo, Purpled, Niki, Sam, and Wilbur. He remembered his youthful days with Hannah and Deo in the Pit under the alias Theseus. He had a recollection of passing strangers like Phil, the pinkette from the cafe, the Marionettes, and Nemesis. Memories of Nemesis are what triggered the ones about his supposed death, where the building had fallen on top of them because of an aerial strike by a glowing spear-like object. Instead of saving himself, Tommy used his powers to save Nemesis, and she had gotten out hopefully. Tommy should have bled out from his various cuts and the hole in his abdomen.

Instead of an afterlife, Tommy opened his eyes to a room. Well, it could have been the afterlife, but the lightning wasn't what he expected from the land of the dead. Nor the modern tone to his surroundings. Tommy wasn't a religious person, but if he was going to end up anywhere after death, he didn't think he would end up at a cozy log cabin. He was underneath a thick quilt with colorful patches to create a mandala design with a warmed pillow at his ear. He was wearing thin clothing that he hadn't been wearing when he met Nemesis, and he wasn't covered in blood or dust like he should have been. Tommy pressed a hand to his side. He felt a bandage sitting there, but the pain was the equivalent to a small bruise that he accidentally nudged. Tommy felt around his arms and face to find all the small cuts were gone like they had never happened. Tommy sat up, a hand coming above his eyes to shield himself from the sun that streamed through a window. Tommy stood onto his feet with a near silent whimper. He pressed his hands against the freezing cold glass to see a snowy field stretching out before him. Tommy shivered at the sight even though the room was warm.