GK999, The New Dream SMP Member

I freaked myself out!!! (Tommyinnt)

Note: Finally back to Tommy. Yippie yippie!!

Tws: Panic attack, memories of death, stuff that is assumed to be blood but isn't, derealization

Words: 2,243

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Tommy woke with a start.

For a second he was simply staring, uncomprehendingly, at the dirt roof above his head. His ears still echoed with the sounds of battle and his nose still burned with the smell of death, and the memories that came with both did not serve him any favors either.

But sooner rather than later, he found himself moving. Almost robotically, he emerged from the bed, throwing the blanket off of himself and kicking his feet over the edge to the ground beside the bed. As he stood, a dizzy blur filled his vision, horribly echoing the creeping mist that he had found in his dreams, only making things worse as he found his heart rate speeding up.

For whatever reason, he could almost feel something outside of himself jumping as if reflecting his panic.

This did not improve his mood.

Tommy sank to his knees, forgetting the open door of the shelter and the people outside who could see him. His mind was a mess of death and murder, of blaming himself for something he hadn't caused, for fear for his friends back home, and for guilt that he was somewhat thankful that he wasn't with them. He knotted a hand into his hair, feeling a painful shiver burn up and down his body as he did.

He knew he should be doing something to calm down, but deep breathing only made him hyperventilate more, and counting only reminded him of the clock-like sound of wither skulls hitting the ground in that awful place. He felt like he was being shoved down a deep rift in the ground, and cold sweat was oddly reminiscent of the so-hot-it's-cold nature of the lava wall of his worst prison.

He dropped his head lower, knowing that the white shock of a streak in his hair must be visible as his shaking hands ruffled it. This thought, too, only served to make his panic worse.

There was nothing he could do to fight it.

It was like he was dead all over again.

"Tommy?" A concerned voice asked, so distant in his ears that he could not seem to place it. Maybe it was Tubbo? Or could it be Ranboo?

"Are you okay?" A different voice asked, this one sounding even more concerned, as if it recognized what it was seeing, and did not like it.

Tommy forced himself to look up, but found that he could not untangle his fingers from his hair as his vision swam with dizziness. The door was still open, just as it had been when he had gone to sleep, but it was not empty.

In the doorway stood a boy.

Tommy did not recognize him, but looking him up and down did not help. In fact, it made his very soul seem to turn to ice.

This boy, who Tommy had never seen before in his life, was covered in blood. It had dried in his hair, was fresh down his face, and soaking into every piece of his black outfit. His hands were empty, but Tommy was not naive, he knew more than enough about the way the world worked to see that he must have something to defend himself hidden away somewhere. In his inventory, a secret pocket, even something small and concealed in his one closed fist. Something had been the source of that blood, and in the moment, Tommy was absolutely certain that it wasn't an innocent source.

In his panicked state, Tommy only seemed to recognize that he was cornered somewhere dark by someone he had never seen before. Someone covered with blood. Someone that could be aligned with Dream. Someone that had killed his friends.