What happened to you?

Chapter 1

If you asked Wilbur if he was possessive, he'd say no. Technoblade would say the same about himself, and Phil all the same.

If you asked Tommy, he'd tell you the opposite. Tommy really wanted his own space, he wanted to keep his secrets and he wanted to do things that wasn't around one of his makeshift brothers or father figure.

When Technoblade was exiled, Tommy felt a small weight being lifted off of his shoulders. While he may not have noticed it then, nor when Phil moved to the arctic with Technoblade but he definitely felt a huge weight leave when Wilbur passed away.

There was no more smoke swirling around his head when he was trying to talk to Wilbur, there was no yelling or fighting, Tommy was free and he was allowed to move and do as he wanted.

When ghostbur arrived in place for Wilbur, Tommy began to miss the smell of ash and the warm smoke that would drift it's way to Tommy. In it's place was warm wool, a cold unbrace from his ghost brother and the smell of flowers, salt and copper.

That's when it began, when Tommy came back from exile. When Dream was now stuck in prison and he was safe, able to finally think.

Tommy curled up in Wilbur's old trench coat, still reeking with smoke no matter how much Tommy scrubbed at the blood stains and the spots of burns. He breathed in a nose full of smoke, his shoulders relaxing.

One thing Tommy kept after Wilbur died other then some old clothes, were his lighter and cigarettes. Wilbur kept a stash of them, one of the only things that didn't blow up with L'manburg. He hid them in his house before exile, thinking with false hope that if he ever comes back to life, he may want them.

Tommy never realized how much the smoke that Wilbur blew to his direction during the pogtopia war helped calm Wilbur down until Tommy thought of it.

Knowing that the smoke helped Wilbur calm down, Tommy would also get relaxed. He wouldn't get into screaming matches when his mouth was full of smoke, that within itself made Tommy calm.

Tommy sat up, Wilbur's coat still draping around him as he looked around his dirt hut. He stood up, Wilbur's coat falling off and pooling on his bed, he walked to the railway going under his house.

Taking his pick axe, he pulled up the bottom of the minecraft to reveal packs of cigarettes and a single shiny gold lighter.

He picked them up and lit one, and that was the first day he knew he fucked himself up.

It had become a habit since then. What made a big difference in this habit, though, was Wilbur being revived. Wilbur had came back to life, and with that Tommy spent most of his days at Phil and Techno's house, where Wilbur convinced him to stay.

Wilbur distracted himself pretty well with Quackity, so Tommy had no reason to worry so much with him. It was now Techno and Phil that he had to hide his habit from now.

When Wilbur would stay over, Tommy would smoke outside of his window, blowing the smoke into the freezing wind. Then, he would throw the the butt under Wilbur's window, blaming it on him.

Most of the time, Wilbur wouldn't even remember if he had smoked or not, still being a avid smoker, so he easily took the blame unknowingly for Tommy.

When Wilbur would saunter off for a few weeks, Tommy would go outside to the warmer Fields and make the excuse of seeing a friend of his, or Puffy, or he would collect flowers for Phil and Techno's respective homes.

Tommy wandered around a golden and green field, scratching his shoe into the dirt and dropping the finished cigarette butt into the tiny dent and burying it under the dirt. He took a deep breath in, putting the lighter into his shoe, making sure it was tucked against his pinkie toe.