Collection of short Dream SMP Stories

Tommy Meeting Wilbur's Limbo

The distant horns, echoing through the empty corridors, grow louder before pausing with a soft screech. As the silver subway arrives, sliding the doors open, releasing overwhelming dark smoke, through the smoke revealing a tall slender young man. As he hunches over, leaning against the wall, stumbling on his feet. Feeling the cold stone touch his rugged warm feet. He looks around, squinting his eyes, but shaken by the red blinding lights, looking away wincing in pain. Covering his eyes, before looking around once more. Seeing his reflection in a glass cover of a poster. His left eye swollen, outlined in purple fading into his peach skin. Along with blood dripping down from his forehead, and rugged dirty blonde curly hair being stained and stuck to the dripping blood, with sweat seeping into the roots of his hair. He could see his nose was slightly crooked, with a nosebleed, he touched his cheek in wonder, but quickly retracted his hand. Feeling a sharp sensation.

Where am I?

He hears a familiar voice in the distance, occasionally interrupted with mumbled, fuck, but continuing along being followed with a calming strumming. He sighs slowly, exhaling air as he closes his eyes, wincing in pain. Stumbling his way, placing his hand on the wall, feeling his fingers fill the gaps between the bricks. As he follows the familiar sound, feeling drawn to it.
"There's a reason," A raspy voice yells, being accompanied by aggressive strumming before pausing, "London puts barriers on the tubeline," then repeating the aggressive strumming once more, fading into a more relaxed note. The boy pushes himself off the wall, walking slowly towards the voice. Getting closer and closer, till the voice grew loud and audible. He nearly fell over, placing his hand on a wooden bench being occupied with a taller man. The source of the sound of music, the taller man was hovering over a light brown guitar, with his left hand that was covered in black fingerless gloves, barely hiding burn scars around his fingers. He held down strings, switching for each note, but now pausing with a screech. Looking upon to see who has interrupted him by falling to the empty space next to him. His eyes widen then relaxed and he smiles, as he shuffles his feet, placing his guitar to the ground, getting up.
"Tommy?" He said, as he stood before the boy, making the height difference obvious by a few inches but close enough to not look down upon Tommy. The tall man runs his hair through his dark brown curls, ruffling them to the side, while adjusting his glasses.
"I didn't think you would be here until a few years later, maybe decades. It's good to see you man, how have you been?" The tall man smirks, gently patting Tommy's shoulder. Tommy looked at him, avoiding eye contact as he looked down, curling his fist up.
"That damn bastard dream- he fuckin-" Tommy's voice breaks, leaning his back against the wall, touching his bruised eye.
"Wil, where am I? What is this place?" Tommy questioned, staring down the empty hall where the subway stopped at dropping him off.
"This is the afterlife Tommy," Wilbur answered, "also, what has my beloved Dream done?" Leaning in slightly towards Tommy, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Tommy scanned the walls, until facing Wilbur's cold brown eyes staring back, waiting for an answer. The same eyes when he paced around in their ravine hideout, yelling about his thoughts on whether he was in the right, waving around a lighter, talking of plans to destroy the thing he built. Tommy closes his eyes, shaking his head snapping back to reality. Feeling his chest get tighter, his hands shake, with each second passing by Wilbur staring at him, "Tommy? What did Dream do?" Wilbur says in a more demeaning tone, gently poking Tommy's shoulder. Tommy flinches, pushing Wilbur's hand away, feeling his breath get shorter. Wilbur pauses, reaching his hand out to gently ruffle Tommy's hair.
"You alright Tom?"
Tommy's eyes widened. "I-.. he- fucking" Before he could continue, Wilbur pulls him into a tight hug, Tommy lets out a soft mumble of pain, his body stiffens, hesitant on what to do. But not refusing the hug, embracing the hug, as he buries his face into Wilbur's brown jacket, the scent of cigarette smoke rubbing into his nose. Clenching on tight to the back of Wilbur's jacket, closing his eyes, feeling every single air he exhales through his mouth. He could see the menacing smile of him. The man with a cold smile, blonde hair, emerald eyes staring at him as he dragged him against the piercing black obsidian floor. His smile. Pinning him against the wall, with a smile that never changed, as he continuously punched, punched, with no regret behind those eyes. Tommy could still hear the promised threats, yelling, feel the burning sensation, the second of being knocked into endless darkness. Tommy felt his heart race, his face burn up, as he tightens his grip on Wilbur's jacket. As he stutters.

"W-what did I do to deserve this? I just want to heal.."