Oh phoenix, sing to me a healing symphony, unbroken & true

Chapter 14

"So..." Phil started, as always. 

"He freaked out a little." Wilbur finished, as always.

"That's a bit more than a "little", Wilbur." Technoblade deadpanned, as always.

"He'll be fine!" Wilbur assured them(and himself).

Phil raised an eyebrow and pulled his wings closer to himself, Techno just stared at him with a hand on his hip.

———

Tommy, still shaking under the blanket Wilbur held him in, was freaking out.

Not because he just had a panic attack, no, that was pretty much over thanks to the heavy blanket on top of him. But because an unfamiliar(not entirely, another part of his mind told him. He'd heard this voice before, a long, long time ago, although much quieter) part of his mind was screaming at him.

Everything smelt like a threat and that didn't make any sense because concepts don't have scents. And Tommy's always had a great sense of smell, but this is just beyond wild. His mind is yelling at him to get out of here. Run away from Wilbur and the two men who were there beside him, that he could hear, smell, and saw earlier as blurry figures.

He couldn't think straight, and the lack of sight from the darkness he was now enveloped in was making it harder to stay calm. 

It was near impossible to hear what Wilbur and the men were talking about with his hands still over his own. He slipped his hands off of his ears from under Wilbur's hands, hoping he'd get the message. He was too scared to speak up himself.

"Tommy?"  

Tommy didn't say anything, choosing to continue the silence. Instead he carded through whatever he could remember. He was here now, wherever here was. Here wasn't his forest, and he certainly hasn't been here before. He can't remember anything after what he thinks was him dying in the snow however long ago that was.

Oh, yeah.

Did he actually die? Is he dead? Is this some kind of limbo, that for some reason had Wilbur in it? Where was Tubbo and Ranboo then if Wilbur was here? He misses his friends, he hasn't seen them in months. He wonders if they'd be sad when they found out he was dead; if they found out at all that is. He thinks he remembers thinking something similar before he dropped dead. Making peace before he croaked or whatever.

He can't feel his back anymore, or much at all to be honest. He feels quite numb now. He feels exhaustion settled deep in his bones, seemingly too deep to sleep off. He can't tell if it's physical or mental, but he supposes it doesn't matter if he's probably dead.

Maybe he should've sucked it up and thrown his pride out the window, like the rest of his belongings, and gone to Quackity. Maybe then he could've just accepted the bare minimum of food, water, and a cheap apartment. 

He's definitely disappointed he didn't get to ever see his friends again, even if it was unlikely he ever would've even if he lived a full lifetime. Maybe in that way he's cursed, always to loose the few friends he makes. It wouldn't be very surprising considering a lot of his life seems like a curse. A sought after rare power that makes him have to hide, his weird voice cracks that always got him in trouble, Dream,  his loudness, overall personality... all he had left was his charms.