a series of sbi oneshots

Skipping Stones

Tommy is bad at skipping stones. He's bad at a lot of things, apparently. Skipping stones isn't really the worst thing to be bad at, but right now it's really pissing him off.

Dream had chewed him out again, he was too slow, he wasn't focusing, he wasn't getting results. Not the results Dream wanted at least, not the results Dream needed. He was getting one consistent result.

Failure.

Tommy picks up another rock off of the path and flings it out over the water. His shoulder aches. The rock disappears into the brownish pond with a splash. Not a skip to be seen.

Another failure.

"You're getting the wrong kind of rocks."

Oh great, now here's some kind of rock expert come to tell him how he's messing this up too. Tommy doesn't even bother looking. He just grabs another rock and chucks it out into the water.

Plop.

"There some sort of magic rock I'm supposed to be using?" Tommy demands, because he can  practically sense the jerk lingering, just waiting to point out his flaws again.

"The flat ones will work better."

Tommy feels like he's probably heard that advice somewhere. Everyone's always giving him advice. Everyone always seems to assume that the dumb quirkless kid needs help with everything.

He's not even quirkless anymore, still dumb though apparently. Dumb enough to get himself caught, dumb enough not to get himself out. Dream had to come and get him.

Tommy rubs at his shoulder instead of trying to get another stone. It's starting to ache, the pain medication must be wearing off.

A large hand, calloused and scarred appears in his vision, a flat round stone held in the palm. Tommy scoffs and shakes his head, he's done being inept at this too.

The hand pulls back, and skips this stone flawlessly across the water, 1, 2, 3, 4, nearly making it to the opposite bank before the stone sinks into the water.

Show off.

Tommy glares at the —

Tommy glares at the Blade. His expression melts into shock, even as his veins freeze with ice. It's him, no doubt about it. The hair, the scar across his face, the crown on his head. The sword at his side.

That sword has killed hundreds of heroes.

A smile touches the Blade’s lips. Tommy is frozen as the Blade raises his hand, it's empty, but does he really need the sword? Probably not. Not to deal with Tommy.

The Blade’s arm drops over his shoulders.

Tommy's knees nearly buckle under the weight, under the shock. The Blade’s arm presses into the back of his neck.

"Relax, if we wanted you dead you would be."

We?

The Blade nudges him, and they start walking. The Blade’s hand is  draped over his shoulder, Tommy is pressed to his side, under his arm. Like they're old friends.

Tommy watches his face, there's a faint smile on his lips. Smug, victorious.

They're walking away from the hospital. Tommy's feet stumble when he realizes it. Dream is in there, injured from rescuing Tommy, ripe for the killing. The Blade and Dream have a rivalry, this could be the perfect time to end it. Dream injured, his student in the Blade’s hand.

But instead the Blade is walking away, smiling like he's got all he wanted. They're coming around the side of the hospital now, to the parking lot, there are civilians here. Tommy tenses even more.