Chapter Text
In hindsight Tommy should have seen it coming.
I mean explosives were fucking raining from the sky, destroying the nation he’d once called his home, even if that seemed like a lifetime ago now.
In his defence he was distracted at the time. Watching Dream, the man who manipulated him for months, lighting up the redstone machine above town. He didn’t see the TNT that fell just a bit too close, didn’t see the iron supply waiting to be turned to a fresh pair of armour.
Only when the blast went off did he understand how much he’d fucked up.
Tommy wasn’t a stranger to the telltale sounds of explosives, having to deal with them almost everyday in exile. However, this one was much more intense then the others, reverberating through his entire being and lighting his nerves a flame.
Previously whole metal bars now turned to shrapnel, tearing into his skin and carving their way into his bones.
Tommy would’ve screamed if he wasn’t sent flying forward by the blow, causing him to tumble into the rubble of L’manberg.
The craters looked deep from his previous position, now they seemed to go on forever as he was thrown into one of the carved out pits.
The boy bounced off the rock, landing on his arm and hearing asicking crunch in the process. Shock kept him from feeling any pain during the fall, but the damage had been done.
His back finally hit a stone floor after what felt like forever, knocking out any of the air that still remained.
Tommy felt like he was drowning, his lungs burning and begging for oxygen as he convulsed against the cold earth.
It was like being jumped by an instinct driven Technoblade. Every bone ached, muscles torn and bruised as blood began to pool below him.
Finally he was able to drag in a breath, coughing on the dust filled air.
The sound was soon replaced with a deep sob, he didn’t even want to try and move knowing it would only cause more pain.
It was completely dark in the crater, the only lights being the occasional flash of TNT that illuminated the entrance of the hole. He could still vaguely hear the explosions somewhere on the surface, hear his friends yelling at one another and the growl of withers.
It was all overpowered by the high pitched ringing still left in his ears by the blast, leaving the world muffled and muted.
Prime was he going to fucking die down here?
No, someone would find him, would get him out before he bled to death at the bottom of this stupid cave. The great TommyInnit couldn't go out this way.
The boy raised a shaking hand as he began to try and find the source of the bleeding. His right arm refusing to move, but he decided to think about that fact later.
Each shuddering breath sent a new spike of pain through his body making him groan out, voice echoing off the stone walls around him.
It was hard in the dark but eventually he managed to feel two distinct spots where the blood was coming from.
One was a decent sized gash on his side, probably cut during the tumble down here. White hot pain flashed when his fingers brushed the wound, resulting in more blood seeping out onto the floor. The liquid provided him a bit of warmth in the freezing pit.
The second was a little more concerning, he didn’t feel pain like when he touched the cut. No, instead he found it by the giant iron shard protruding from his left thigh.
Definitely not pog.
A flash of fear gripped his chest before his breaths began to speed.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Tommys been hurt before, i mean he's served in the army since the start of the war. He's been stabbed and shot, hell he was even beaten to a pulp by his own brother. Tommy wasn’t a stranger to pain.
But it felt different this time, he was alone. Nobody knew where he was, hell he wasn't even sure exactly where he'd fallen.
He was scared, for the first time in a long time, he felt like a kid.
Okay, he couldn’t loose his shit right now, he didn’t have time to be a fucking pussy.
Tommy willed himself to take a deep inhale through his nose, closing his eyes as he tried to calm his racing thoughts.
First things first, he needed to deal with the biggest threat right now, which was bleeding out. The shrapnel in his leg was a slight inconvenience but the metal was actually doing him a favour.
It was keeping the blood inside his body where it belonged.
Techno had once given him a lecture about first aid, telling him about how important it was to never remove something that may be impaling you. He probably meant a sword or knife but life’s unpredictable.
Tommy couldn’t help but think that the piglin hybrid might regret telling him how to prevent his own death. I mean, Techno was one of the ones responsible for this whole situation in the first place.
Okay, focus. You don't need to think about Technobitch right now.
So the stab wound wasn’t anything to worry about, it would most definitely be a problem in the near future but not the biggest threat.
That went to the still oozing cut on his side.
He wasn’t sure how deep it was or if anything important had been damaged. He didn’t really have time to think about that though, the bleeding needed to be stopped first.
With a loud cry Tommy hoisted himself onto his elbow, desperately looking for something he could lean against.
As if to answer his prayer an explosion lit the cave up for just a moment, but it was enough for the boy to see a slightly slanted stone to his left.
Taking a few deep breaths Tommy began to drag himself with his still functioning arm. Pain flashed across his body making the boy clench his teeth. A scream being ripped from his throat as his bad leg was accidentally dragged into a rock.
Fuck, that shit was defenetly getting infected.
He finally reached the stone, practically collapsing on its cool surface. Letting out a small sigh he flinched at a practically loud bomb above.
The muffled sound of Sapnap screaming could be heard somewhere, the teen wasn’t sure if it was in success or defeat. Hopefully the former.
Okay, time to get to work.
Tommy’s hand moved to undo the leather buckles on the now destroyed iron chest plate Tubbo had gifted him just before the fight. He was grateful now, knowing it probably saved his life, or what was left of it.
When he went to undo the strap on his right he finally caught a glimpse of his arm.
He had to stop bile from coming up his throat at the sight of the mangled limb. It was obviously broken in multiple places, lying at an unnatural angle. It also seemed to be the closest to the original blast, covered in angry looking burns that charred his flesh. No wonder it felt like it was on fire.
At least he couldn’t smell the damn thing over the overwhelming stench of gunpowder and dust.
Fuck, thing’s really weren’t going his way right now we’re they.
He'd have to deal with that later, knowing a few more scars would be added to his growing collection.
Anger soon replaced fear as he loathed those who were responsible for all of this.
Phil, A man he’d once called his father who killed his brother in front of him, but then chose to not speak to his other son until he was destroying his home.
Dream, A monster who played with his life and head like he were a puppet, manipulating him until he was on the edge of suicide.
Technoblade, his once brother who stabbed him in the back every chance he got. Not only had he blown up L’manberg AGAIN! He also joined sides with his abuser! The man he’d spent a month hiding from. Techno cheered for his failure, for his death.
Now look at him, bleeding at the bottom of a hole.
Removing the cold armour, he was given access to his stained shirt below. It wasn’t the cleanest material, now soaked in blood and sweat, but It would have to do.
Pulling the ‘vlog knife™️’ from his pants pocket he cut away the cotton shirt, making him slightly shiver from the cold temperature of the cave. Tying back his bloodstained hair in a low ponytail.
He hadn't had the motivation to cut it after exile, Wilbur usually did that for him.
He took the blade and cut off his shirt's long sleeves, bulking up the rest of the fabric so he could hold it to his right side to try and stop the bleeding.
His teeth clenched as he pushed down, sending another wave of pain up his spine. Fuck, he needed a fucking vacation after all this shit.
The boy then very awkwardly wrapped the sleeves around his stomach, tying them off around the bundle with double knots. The pressure was extremely uncomfortable but it was life or death here.
One down, one to go.
“Prime if you help me out of here I promise to give up war forever, I’ll devote my life to you and your pogness.” He wheezed up at the sky.
Tommy was kind of tired of fighting anyway, he didn't have much energy for anything nowadays.
So his shirt was being used, and he couldn’t use his pants because they were unfortunately being pinned into his skin right now.
Good thing for Tommy was on top of all the recent fashion trends. His upper pants may be useless, but the lower halves were still very much viable.
He leaned forward, gritting his teeth as he reached for the zippers that held his cutoffs together. Unzipping the lower legs the boy was able to remove them turning his stylish beige cargos into even more stylish shorts.
Prime he was cool.
The teen grabbed the now two new bandages and looped them over the shrapnel piece, forming a small mound around it.
Then he kicked his shoes off and went after the next form of fabric he had.
Shoelaces.
If he got out of this whole thing he was definitely wearing extra layers just in case.
When the mismatching pair were wrapped around his legs and tied off on each side of the doughnut he was finally satisfied.
Maybe he'll move far away from the SMP, start a little farm on his own. He could raise cows and grow potatoes. Techno taught him how to grow them in Pogtopia, plus he really liked them. That sounded nice.
As a last ditch effort he slung his broken arm in the green bandana now tied loose around his neck.
Would Tubbo notice he was missing from battle? Would he come looking for him? Or maybe his lack of presence was just natural around here now, something people embraced.
The boy leaned back, eyes trained to the sky as the gentle glow of fire bounced off the billowing smoke above. Stars barely fading through, making the entire thing weirdly beautiful.
The shouts and explosions had died down at some point during his struggles. Leaving the world an eerily relaxing quiet, only the gentle noise of burning wood echoed down towards him.
It reminded him of a simpler time, sitting in front of the fireplace at Technos as the man read him old mythology. A cup of hot chocolate clutched in hand as he teased his brother about being ‘such a nerd’. Remind him of when the man had found him, half frozen to death in the snow, and brought him home. It felt like being a kid again, well more of a kid.
He missed running around their house.
Listening to Wilby play guitar and come up with funny songs just to make Tommy laugh. Missed jumping on Tech's back and play fighting until he fell asleep in the other's arms. Or even watching his dad bake freshly made bread in the kitchen.
Without even realising it a tear began to slip down his soot stained face, the understanding that he’d never have that again.
His childhood had slipped away, stolen by a war he never wanted to be a part of.
Now he was going to die here, nobody was coming for him.
Tommy’s eyebrows knit as his lip wobbled, Hot tears now flowing without permission.
He let the dam break, usually too tough to let it out, but now what was the point. The past few days raced through his mind, making his heart weight heavy in his chest.
He didn’t mean to betray him, didn’t mean to pick Tubbo over Techno. It just all happened so fast and he couldn’t lose his best friend.
It was already too late to see he lost his brother in the process.
Now look where he was, bleeding to death at the bottom of a hole as his home burned to the ground above him.
Maybe he deserved this, maybe this was some divine intervention, karma at her best.
Techno always compared him to Theseus, told him he’d die just like the hero had. If only he knew how accurate that was. Sure he wasn’t shoved off a cliff by a king but he still fell, still lay dying as everyone he once loved saw him as a failure.
Maybe this was his destiny, to die the same way he lived, alone.
The pain from before now felt muted, as if he’d taken a numbing potion. He wasn’t cold anymore, probably a bad sign. Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to care.
He’d come so close to this moment, so close to ending it all only to decide he wanted to live. Had gazed into the deep seas of lava in the Nether for hours just wondering what it would be like to let go.
Look where that got him.
It was easier this way, to die with his country, like Wilbur had before him.
Strangely fitting.
The crazy brunette would probably laugh at the irony of it all.
He really missed him.
Tommys breathing grew more shallow, chest becoming heavier as exhaustion weighed on his limbs.
He was tired.
He’d been tired for a while.
Maybe he could close his eyes for a bit, get some much needed sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he slept without nightmares, but he somehow knew no bad dreams awaited him when he closed his eyes.
A faint smile lit up his face at the thought of it all, finally being able to rest.
Would Wilbur be waiting for him?
His body relaxed against the stone, no longer strained and tense.
His breathing evened out, eyes fluttering shut and catching the last glimpse of the stars shining above.
I guess it was never meant to be, he thought before drifting off into a deep slumber.
Failing to notice the red eyes glancing into the dark cavern.