One-shots!

Im.. Not Dead??

Hey guys! I decided that I want to do a short book with short stories. This is one of them, if you like it leave a vote. And if you have anything you want to see, a part two, or this as a story, put it in the comments. And I mainly want TommyInnit angst- or comfort really because it's easier, but if it's a different character I'll definitely do my best! Thanks for Reading.

Tommy dropped to the ground just barely managing to get out of the way of Dreams fist. He felt a small burst of confidence at that, but it didn't last long, as almost immediately afterwards he felt hand grab him and hit his head on the obsidian wall over and over again, he put his hands up as defense, trying to grab at Dreams arms to get him to stop, whispers of begging coming out between pained gasps. He felt Dream punching him over and over again- beating him, Tommy continued to beg him to stop, that at this rate Dream will kill him, he was losing hearts rapidly when, eventually he got tunnel vision and black dots danced across his sight. After a few moments of extreme pain, as well as blurry and dark vision. It all stopped.

Tommy floated in the dark abyss, he was there for what had felt like a few weeks, to a month- maybe two he couldn't tell. He had almost come to accept being dead and dealing with Wilbur, Shlatt, and even Mexican Dream every now and then. The fact that he'd been murdered in a prison alone maybe nobody knowing or caring still bothered him some. Then as he was about to beat Wilbur in solitaire he felt as if he couldn't move, and he saw a giant bright light before passing out.

"Tommy! Are you ok? Open the door!" Tommy paused that sounded like Wilbur. but...Wilbur had died ages ago. He was with Wilbur in limbo- he was fuckin crazy! Tommy took a breath. It was fine, maybe his limbo changed, or he was finally able to leave limbo and go to hell hell. Maybe Dream revived him, and he was in a coma. There were many possibilities.

"W-Wilbur? Is that you?" "ya it's uh- it's me Toms." His head was so foggy he couldn't tell what was happening, if this was a dream or something more. Before Wilbur had a chance to continue Tommy bolted to the door, unlocked it, and threw himself into Wilbur. He would never admit it but he had missed Wilbur more than anything, and had missed the comfort the older one would give before he lost it. He hoped the dream would last.

Wilbur was surprised but didn't mind that Tommy had just hugged him out of nowhere. He just hugged Tommy back and brought him downstairs. Thinking about what could scare his little brother so much that he had screamed and then started to cry, then to cling to Wilbur. He sat them both on the couch not missing how Tommy tensed as soon as they started going down the stairs as if he was cautious.

Wilbur pulled out his phone and messaged Techno and Phil to get home as soon as possible saying how something was wrong with Tommy, all while still comforting the now calming boy. He knew it was most likely just a nightmare but the last time Tommy had a nightmare like this it was because something had happened. And that was a year or so ago. It was only then he noticed a bunch of cuts and bruises along with a streak of white in his brother's hair. He felt dread slowly work its way to his head and stomach and carefully hugged the boy tighter and made the text a little more urgent.

Phil and Techno were at the grocery store about to start the drive home when they got a text, Phil focused on driving, and asked Techno what it said.

Hey, can you guys hurry and get home? Something's wrong with Tommy.

He's hurt.

Phil and Techno both immediately filled with worry, not a lot happened to the point where someone had to reach out and get Tommy help. They went as fast as they could to get home.

They dropped the groceries onto the floor and sped towards the couch Phil crouched down and moved his hand to Tommy, as soon as his hand made contact with him Tommy jolted and looked up to see Techno and Phil, they were all surprised when he flinched harshly and pressed more into Wilbur, fear so evident in his eyes, as well as hate and rage. Phil stopped and put his hands up, smiling softly, concern obvious in his face. But he was worried slightly at the fact he saw big bruises and cuts all over his son.