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“I can’t let you go back this time,” Death says, from where he appears beside his dead body, an unyielding presence that no one can ignore.
Tommy’s blue eyes flicker up to the black veil that covers Death’s face, the way it seems to dissipate into mist at the ends of the fabric, black particles slowly dripping down from it in an eerie way. Death was a tall man, who wore all black robes that flowed in the nonexistent wind.
He was an all consuming force of nature, a man that held so much power in the palms of his hands. He was feared and respected by all, as everyone would have to meet him one day, face his judgment.
No one could escape his cold grasp, no one except Tommy.
“That's what you said last time,” Tommy says, from where he sits on a tree stump, his feet swinging back and forth, “You should really come up with better ways of keeping me here, Death.” He muses, his blue eyes sparkling as he gives the man a grin.
They both ignore his bloody body strewn out in the long grass and weeds, the multiple stab wounds in his stomach and chest still oozing out blood. It was quite a gruesome scene, really, the guys he paid went all out.
A lake sits off a ways away, surrounded by a forest, with a small meadow in the middle of it all.
It was really quite a nice place, Tommy notes, as his eyes travel across the landscape. Flowers bloom all around them, adding pops of color, making it all seem so innocent and welcoming.
As long as you didn't look too close, the beauty of it all wouldn't be ruined.
“I mean it this time, Tommy.” Death sighs, shifting slightly, the most he’s moved this whole time, “You cannot keep cheating death, it is time for this to end.”
Tommy hums, tapping his chin as if he was considering what he was saying, before he smiles, a big bright thing that contrasts against the scene in front of him.
“Sorry, but I am going to have to decline,” He says, jumping off of the stump he had been sitting on. He stretches out his arms, cracking his shoulders, as he steps closer to his body, looking down at the progress of how quickly he was healing.
He couldn’t let his body revive itself too quickly, now, otherwise he won’t have enough time to do what he needs.
“I really have no time to die right now. Hmm, actually, why don’t you come back in a decade or two? Maybe then I’ll be ready,” He says, his eyes glinting with mischief, “I know what we should do! We should decide on a good death date, then we won’t run into this problem any more—“
“Tommy,” Death cuts him off, and he sounds mad, serious, nothing like the other times Tommy has met him, “It's over. You’re dead. You cannot come back from this.”
Tommy’s face falls, as he stares at Death, wishing he could see under that veil, see the man responsible for greeting the dead souls, and bringing them to the afterlife.
He was in Death’s domain, his world— Tommy didn’t have the upper hand, not until he was alive again.
“Have an open mind, Death!” Tommy says, throwing his arms wide, “I’m not dead.” He grins, “I’m the great Tommy Innit! I can’t die!” He exclaims, as if it was just a fact that everyone knew.
Death seems to level him with an unamused look, before suddenly he’s approaching him, his robes flowing out behind him as he steps towards Tommy, sending goosebumps up along his arms.
“You are coming with me,” Death says, his tone final, “And you won’t be able to escape this time.” He hums, as his overwhelming presence seems to wrap around him, almost like fog, weighing heavy on him. Any other normal person would have succumbed to him already, but not Tommy.
Never Tommy.
Tommy knows Death was not playing around today. Unlike all their other meetings, Death had indulged him, went along with his banter, his jokes. It had been nice, fun even, but now he has to go and ruin it all.
Oh well, Tommy wanted this anyways. He has an actual reason to let Death take him down and down into the inky darkness of the underworld this time. Really, Tommy would have preferred to have done this sooner than as late as it has gone on, but it allowed him more time to prepare and plan for this exact moment.
“We had something nice,” Tommy says, pouting at the man in front of him, as Death’s influence wraps around him, shackling his wrists and ankles. “I thought we were friends, Death! What happened?” Tommy says, leaning forwards towards him, his blue eyes glinting.
“We could have never been friends, Tommy.” Death says, and he doesn't even sound so sure of it himself, “I have been waiting for you for a long time now. It is time you come with me.” He says in a resolute tone, his will never once wavering.
Tommy tsk’s, tugging on the invisible shackles around him, testing their strength.
“You belong to me now, mate. There is no escape.” Death says, and Tommy can’t help but grin at that, peering up at the veil that shadows his face.
“I’m yours, Death?” He says, thinking it over, tilting his head, “Gladly. If you can keep me, that is.” He says, leaning back on his heels, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s, you know? Because then at least I know I won’t be alone!”
Death just stares at him for a long moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts, the smile on Tommy’s face never faltering in the wake of his silence. Tommy was really just trying to get on Death’s nerves as much as possible.
“I will visit you in your limbo, Tommy. That is the only mercy I can gift upon you.” Death says, reaching out with a hand to cup his face. Tommy freezes at the touch, his eyes going wide as Death lays his cold hand against his cheek, his thumb rubbing right underneath his eye, as if he was almost sad that their little game was ending.
“It’s time to come with me, Tommy.” Death breathes, as darkness seems to consume them, drowning out the waking world around them. His body is left behind, forgotten, but it doesn't matter. Not when he’s so close to getting what he wants, what he’s been planning for this whole time.
He lets Death consume him, wrap around his body, his soul, to drag him down to the darkness of the underworld, the only place he could not reach by himself.
It was really a dull place, void of anything, made out of illusions and tricks. Tommy could never imagine ruling over this realm, of all places. He thinks he would go insane, just at the mere thought of it alone.
He falls into Death’s embrace, making the man support his full weight as he holds him up with his arms, noting the way Death holds him a little tighter when Tommy fully slumps in his hold, seemingly giving up.
Dying was a weird experience, one Tommy never thought he would get, but he can cross it off his bucket list now.
He lets Death do his thing as he slowly unwraps the dark tendrils around his mind and body, cutting off Death’s control over him. It was easy, really, Death couldn't drag his soul all the way under either, they were going to hit a roadblock here soon and the whole gig would be up.
Death seems to hold onto him tighter, mumbling something under his breath as Tommy shifts in his grip, clutching onto his shirt as he pulls himself out of the weird haze Death had sent him in. It takes him a couple of moments to do it, as he drags his consciousness back up to the surface, brushing away Death’s control over him.
“Wait— this is impossible– no one can resist dying!” Death says, his nails digging into his arms as he pulls him up, keeping him firmly in his hold. Tommy’s lips twitch up into a small smile, as Death starts to realize that he wasn’t just some mortal who was great at not dying.
He blinks his eyes open, feeling slowly coming back to his limbs, his fingers, as he draws upon his powers, slowly at first. He doesn't want Death to know just yet, the prick.
“Long time no see, Death,” Tommy sighs out dramatically, trying to think back on the last time he met Death as his true self, “Did you miss me?” He asks, a grin on his face as he pushes himself away from Death, stumbling on his feet.
He recovers quickly, trying to meet Death’s gaze but the man still hides behind that damn veil. It does him no good, really, no one would remember what he looked like after they got sent to their limbo anyways.
Death just stares at him for a long, tense moment, before he shifts on his feet, tipping his head towards him, the veil swishing with the movement. Death seems confused, if anything, maybe a little wary of who was actually standing in front of him.
“This isn’t funny,” He says slowly, carefully watching Tommy, “You're not going to win at whatever game you're playing at with me,” He says simply, “You can’t be Life. Life is not foolish enough to come into my realm like this.”
Tommy tilts his head at that, before shrugging.
“Then how the fuck am I here right now?” He asks, gesturing around at the darkness that surrounds them, “How have I escaped dying all those times? I’m not some fucking crazy witch or some shit, no body can just come back from the dead.”
“Tommy,” Death begins slowly, “It's time for you to accept that you're dead, mate. Enough of this nonsense.”
“Well, guess what, fucker,” He says with a grin on his face, “I’m fucking Life, bitch, you can’t kill me.” He exclaims, as he stares into the lifeless veil, throwing his arms wide, just how Wilbur does.
Death seems to freeze up for a moment, as if what Tommy just said was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
“Impossible,” Death says, “Life— Life isn’t some kid getting himself killed over and over!” Death exclaims, “Life is a divine being, pure and innocent… there is no possible way Life could be you.”
Tommy’s facade seems to crack a bit at that, his blue eyes sharpening at Death. He knows it's been a couple centuries since they last met officially, but still, he would have thought that Death would have recognized him when he finally told him, and not insult him straight to his face.
“If you believe that is what Life is, then you are sorely mistaken,” Tommy spits out, ripping himself out of his hold, “You have never lived a day in your life, have you? You have never felt what it is to survive, to grow as a person, to change and face hardships and experience the waking world everyone lives in. You know nothing about Life.”
Death seems taken aback, as he stares at him, his whole demeanor changing.
“You cannot be Life,” Death says slowly, as if he was unsure himself, “Life can’t die—“
“Are you still on about that?” Tommy sighs, crossing his arms, “I’ve been killed hundreds of times, prick, only recently have I let you meet me.” He says, “Gods, you are so simple minded, you really need to branch out, you know? Talk to some other people for once, sheesh.” Tommy grumbles, brushing off his clothes as if he had been covered in dust.
“Anyways, Death, it was so nice to see you again,” Tommy says sarcastically, closing his eyes for a moment, as he searches for the one person he was down here for, “But I think it's time you took a step back.”
Death sputters at that, taking a step towards Tommy.
“You dare try to order me around in my own realm? How foolish are you–“ Death begins, as Tommy’s eyes snap open, a buzzing light separating the two.
Tommy holds a sword made out of white light, the soft luminescence seemingly rolling off of it in waves, brightening up the darkness around them. It gives him a stepping stone in this realm, a foot hold, so he can maneuver and manipulate it to his will.
His powers seep into the cracks he’s slowly made, as his blue eyes seem to glow with his will, his authority, as he slowly shatters Death’s realm.
Only now does Death seem to realize who Tommy truly was, as he pauses in his steps, the veil hiding away any expression on his face. The moment seems to freeze in time, as it dawns upon Death the mistake he just made by bringing Tommy into his realm.
“What are you doing?” Death asks slowly, carefully, “Life, I am only asking you to leave kindly once, otherwise if you continue with this I will have to stop you.” Death says, yet Tommy’s already found what he wanted.
“Oh Death,” He sighs, his will slipping into the cracks of the underworld, “It's already too late, innit? You took something of mine, and I want it back.” He grins, “I promise next time this won’t happen again, really some foul planning on my part…” He coughs, before smiling again.
“Say hi to the missus for me,” Tommy says, and then he’s gone in a flash of light, darkness consuming the space he had once been in, swallowing Death whole in the inky shadows.
“Fuck,” Death mutters, turning and disappearing, off to find Life.
~~~~
“Wilbur?” Tommy calls out, walking along the grungiest train station he’s ever seen.
It's all blacks and grays, with dull reds mixed in here and there. The concrete is dirty and nasty, full of soot and cracks, and the brick walls are in even worse condition, smears and stains covering it.
The atmosphere of the place is dark and creepy, with flickering shadows in the corner of his eyes. Every time he tried to look to see what moved it was gone, as if there had been nothing there in the first place.
It was unsettling to say the least.
The tracks are the only nice thing about the whole place, as the never ending platform seems to stretch for miles in all directions. He can hear the occasional drop of water on stone, collecting into small dirty puddles on the ground.
He can feel Wilbur’s soul, calling out to him, guiding him to where he is.
Tommy walks, anticipation growing in his chest with each passing moment, as the buzzing of lights overhead and flickering of old bulbs start to give him a headache.
He stares at his surroundings, taking it all in– sometimes there’s scratches on the brick walls, and blood stains on the concrete underneath him. Other times there's words written in grease and soot, smudged out beyond recognition, yet the lingering emotions still send goosebumps down his arms.
This was a bad place, meant for bad people.
It pains him that Wilbur ended up here.
Finally, he sees a dark shape curled up against the wall, legs splayed out in front of them as their head rests on the rough bricks, a jacket wrapped around their frail frame.
Tommy breaks out into a run, his chest swelling with joy as he recognizes Wilbur.
“Wilbur!” He shouts, practically falling to his knees when he gets close, tackling the man in a hug. Wilbur jolts, making a surprised noise as Tommy throws himself against him, his arms wrapping around him as he embraces him.
“Tommy?” He asks quietly, before arms are wrapping around him, tugging him closer, “Oh my gods, Toms– Tommy, what are you doing here?” Wilbur asks, pressing Tommy so tight against his chest he was having a hard time breathing.
Tommy hides his face away in his neck, his shaking hands gripping the back of his shirt as he hugs him, trying to be as physically close as possible to him as he fights back tears. The gaping hole in his chest is gone, with the need for his brother to be near fulfilled, the urge to just never let him go only growing stronger by the minute.
“Wilbur, I—“
“What are you doing here?” Wilbur asks again, more persistent this time, holding onto him tighter, as if he was afraid Tommy was going to disappear, “How— how are you here?” He breathes in a near whisper, burying his face in his hair.
Wilbur holds him as if he wasn’t real, as if he was just some figment of his imagination– a hallucination in this damned place that came to haunt him. It makes Tommy’s heart break, his chest tightening at the way Wilbur seems so different, so broken.
“Wil,” Tommy says softly, shifting in his grip to try and peer into his eyes. Wilbur slackens his hold on him, yet his arms are still wrapped around him, as they slowly meet eyes.
Tommy smiles sadly, placing his hands on Wilbur’s cheeks, cradling his face as he stares into his brown eyes. His gaze is dull, empty, and as Tommy searches his eyes for something familiar all he finds is insanity.
It scares him, that Wilbur was losing his mind that quickly. He’s not sure how long Wilbur had been in limbo for, but clearly it had taken its toll on him, warping his mind and slowly destroying it.
“Hey, it's okay,” Tommy says when he notices the tears welling up in his eyes, “It's okay, Wil, I'm here now. Everything will be okay.” He promises, tears stinging his own eyes as he hugs him again, hiding his face away in Wilbur’s neck.
Wilbur inhales sharply, pressing Tommy close to him, a sob making its way out of his chest. Tommy can’t help but cry too, breaking down in his brother's arms as everything finally sets in.
He’s finally got Wilbur back after a month of being separated, though Tommy knows it was much longer for Wilbur. Limbo was a cruel place, warping time and space– Tommy wasn’t even sure of the real reason behind limbo, just that Death was the one who decides what kind of place a person gets after they die.
Wilbur did not get a nice limbo.
After they both calm down enough, the two still cradled in each other's arms, Tommy slowly pushes away, anxiety worming its way into his stomach. The looming threat of Death finding them any second weighs heavily on his shoulders, making him nervous, wary of his surroundings.
“Come on, Wil. It's time to go home,” Tommy says, his voice wavering on the word ‘home’, as the train tracks start to rumble.
Wilbur wipes at his teary eyes, one arm still wrapped around him as he sniffles, pushing his curly brown hair out of his face. He still looks at Tommy as if this was all some cruel illusion, holding onto Tommy like he was scared of him disappearing.
“Tommy— I’m dead, I can’t— there's no way,” Wilbur stutters, his voice breaking, “I can’t go back.” He says, his brown eyes sullen, broken. It makes Tommy’s heart break, his soul shatter, anger and hate welling its way back up to the surface for the people who killed Wilbur.
He can’t help the guilt he feels for not being there to protect Wilbur in time, to be able to save him and bring him back. Death had already gotten to him by the time he showed up, taking Wilbur’s soul away to where he couldn’t reach.
He clutches at Wilbur’s sweater, dragging Wilbur towards him as he grips onto his arms. Tommy meets his gaze, noting the doubt and insanity that fills his eyes, with a small sliver of hope sparking them in.
“Wilbur,” Tommy says, and he can’t help the way his voice sounds so broken, his chest tightening with such grief and sadness it makes him want to start crying all over again, “We’re going home.” He repeats, ignoring the slight waver in his voice as his grip on Wilbur tightens.
This was all he had been dreaming about, had been planning for, endless nights spent orchestrating his deaths and murders to get to the spot where he was now.
“We’re going home, with Techno and me in the city. We’re going to go home and Techno is going to have dinner ready and we’re going to watch a movie and eat all the junk food we want.” Tommy rambles, tears flowing from his eyes as he holds onto Wilbur tighter, “We’re going to go to bed really late and then we’ll wake up the next day at like four in the afternoon and realize just how much we fucked up our sleep schedules, but it doesnt matter because as long as we’re together everything will be okay—“
The train cuts him off as it comes to a screeching halt right beside them, sparks shooting up from the brakes stopping the train. The locomotive rumbles, vibrating the ground, as the train doors open, white unnatural light spilling out from the car and illuminating their surroundings, casting long shadows against the two.
A sudden buzzing starts up in his head, similar to white noise, as he can feel Death slowly starting to approach. It makes him panic slightly, tremors making his hands shake as he tries his best to stay calm.
Death definitely knew where he was now.
“Toms,” Wilbur breathes, the two of them standing up, both still in each other's arms. Wilbur tucks him close, under his arm, right where Tommy was meant to be, “This has never happened before.” He whispers, his brown eyes pinned on the wide open doors.
“We’re going home, Wil.” Tommy shakily smiles, wiping at his eyes, “Come on,” He says, taking a shaky step forward. Wilbur stumbles after him, slow at first, before he’s practically sprinting, the both of them reaching the waiting train doors.
The buzzing in the back of his head suddenly explodes, and without second thought Tommy shoves Wilbur the rest of the way into the train, the doors sealing shut behind him with a click.
Before Tommy could even turn around, Death is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, an unyielding force overwhelming him, breaking apart his facade, his illusion.
Death cracks him apart, ripping away his authority, destroying his will, and reclaiming his realm.
Tommy smiles, as light spills from him in waves, the train speeding off, whipping past the two of them and leaving him on the platform with Death. The vibrations from the train soon fade out into nothing, as they settle into an eerie quietness, only broken by Tommy’s rapid breaths.
Tommy won.
“You—“ Death says, his taloned hand fisting his shirt, as he turns Tommy to face him.
With his illusion gone, Tommy’s normal human disguise is up. In its place is a white shirt tucked into matching pants, seemingly radiating with diviness. Angelic like wings reside on his back, the feathers long and slender, glossy looking. His hair is a lighter blonde, bordering on white, and his blue eyes glow softly in the darkness.
Death is exactly his opposite. After losing whatever disguise he had put up earlier, he no longer wears his veil and instead lets his cold blue eyes meet his own. His hair is blonde, light like Tommy’s, and black wings sit on his back, similar to that of a crows. They mantle behind him, sharp and sleek looking, seemingly a void of pitch blackness.
He wears his robes, though, and appears a lot older than Tommy is. It's weird seeing Death in his true form, as Tommy can’t even remember the last time he faced Death as Life head on. It throws him off slightly now being able to see his expressions, but he doesn’t let it bother him too much.
They were two opposites, bound together by lines of black and white, yet seemingly similar all the same.
Tommy just smiles, allowing Death to man handle him, as he heaves him up to be face to face with him. They lock eyes, as several different emotions swell up in the icy blue depths of Death’s gaze, before his look hardens into something angry, mad.
The gravity of the situation seems to settle on Death, as all their cards are laid out in front of one another now. There were no more surprises now, with each other's facades gone. It was like how everything started, way back when the world was brand new.
“What did you do?” Death asks, his authority washing over Tommy in waves. He should be a little concerned about the sudden control Death has over everything right now, but all he really wants is to be back to the waking world with Wilbur and Techno.
It makes sense; he was further into Death’s realm, in Wilbur’s limbo, Death was going to be more powerful here. It was just going to make escaping that much harder, though, as Tommy tries to figure out a way out of here.
“Nothing,” He says simply, clutching at the wrist that holds him up, but Death does not like that answer. His cold eyes narrow, his wings shifting behind him in a threatening manner, annoyance flashing in his eyes.
“I’m not a fool,” Death says lowly, his wings shifting behind him ominously, catching Tommy’s attention for a moment before his eyes flicker back to Death’s.
“How could you?” Death spits, “Messing around with things that don't concern you— what is your game here, Life? You are in my realm, my domain, do you know what this means?” Death asks, his face not revealing any emotions as he stares at Tommy.
Tommy just gives him a look, his wings going limp behind him dramatically.
“Hm, it means… fuck you,” Tommy says flatly, “You took something that belonged to me, of course I was going to come get him back.” Tommy smiles, yet Death’s look only hardens, before something dark crosses across his face.
“Oh Tommy,” Death says, dragging him closer, “That soul belonged to me the moment it crossed into my domain. There is a debt that needs to be paid, Life.” He says slowly, carefully, watching Tommy’s reaction closely.
“Yeah? What do you want, a burger from McDonald’s?” Tommy says sarcastically, “Fuck off, stop being such a right prick—“
“Life,” Death snaps, shaking him slightly, “You’ve incurred a multitude of debts to me, I was willing to let your previous… deaths slide, but this— this I cannot let go,” Death says simply, “You stole a soul from me. And now I need one in return.”
Tommy blinks up at Death, wondering what exactly he was playing at here.
“I am unable to kill,” Tommy says slowly, “But my angel—“
“No, no,” Death tuts, reaching out with a taloned hand and caressing his cheek, “I want you, Life.”
Tommy’s world seems to freeze for a moment, as his words sink in, settling into his mind like stones. He panics, scrambling for purchase as his grip on Death’s arm tightens, his wings flaring behind him as he struggles to get away from him.
This was no longer a laughing matter.
“Me? You can’t take my soul, I am literally life—“ Tommy exclaims, trying to get away from Death as his chest tightens in fear, his reality slowly crumbling around him. Death was just trying to scare him, to make him think that he couldn't escape if he really wanted to– Tommy just had to keep trying to get back to Wilbur and Techno and his home.
He can’t give that up, no matter what Death was trying to do.
The man has a smug expression on his face, something dark and satisfied curling up in his cold eyes, as his hands cups the back of his neck, his cruel talons resting against his throat.
“I can’t take your soul, no,” Death agrees slowly, “But I can take your life. I can take you, a life for a life.”
Tommy freezes up, his heart skipping a beat as he stares at Death, his eyes going wide.
“You can’t be serious,” He says, at a loss for what to do– what to even think.
“I am,” Death smiles, tugging him closer, his wings mantling behind him, “What will it be, Life? You’re stuck here, only I can let you out, and unless you accept, you will be staying a long time in limbo,” Death says simply, his authority washing over Tommy again, waiting for the moment Tommy would crack.
Tommy withers in his grip, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he fights off Death’s power, trying to hold himself together for as long as possible.
He can’t— he can't just give himself up like that. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Tommy was supposed to get on the train with Wilbur and ride back up to the waking world and join him and Techno back at home and now it’s probably already been hours and Tommy’s still missing—
He sucks in a sharp breath– there was really no other option, was there?
Tommy can’t break out of Death’s realm, not all the way down here, every time he tries to use his power’s authority it's smothered by Death’s, snuffed out before it could even begin to grow in strength.
“Fuck you,” Tommy spits out, his eyes opening as he glares at Death, “You’re a bitch, you know that? Why do you have to be such a dick, man? I didn’t do any of this to spite you,” His voice tapers off at the end, “I didn’t mean for it to end like this.”
Death looks upon him with something akin to pity.
“I know,” He says softly, his black wings enveloping him, “But your debt still stands. You're still trapped. You have a decision to make, Life.” Death breathes out, as Tommy gives one last attempt to break free from Death’s grip, pulling all of his energy and power up to try and get a foothold back in Death’s realm.
It was really quite pointless, as Death just pushes back ten fold, making his knees buckle out from underneath him as his power overwhelms him, his authority over his own realm too strong to break through.
He no longer has the element of surprise on his side, and his decaying body has long since stopped healing, offering him no tether to the waking world he could grab onto. He was trapped, with no footholds, no energy or power to hold onto– it was over for him.
Death follows him to the ground, having to hold Tommy up as he breaks, his last defenses shattering.
He gives in to Death, to his stupid deal, to repay his debt– whatever the fuck that means. All he wants is to just be back with Wilbur and Techno, and if it means giving himself up to Death then so be it.
It hurts, as Death seeps his talons into his soul, his very being, wrapping around his heart, his organs, making himself at home within Tommy.
He cries out in pain, his wings drooping behind him as his very soul is ripped apart and mended back together.
“What the fuck,” He mutters, slouching forwards in Death’s hold, “Fuckin’— fuck you.” He spits out as angrily as he could, though it doesn't quite give the effect that he wanted.
Death’s wings wrap around him, as he guides Tommy to rest his head on his shoulder, one of his hands brushing through his hair, his other arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him close. It would have been comforting if this was literally anyone else.
“Oh Life,” Death breathes as Tommy whines, his chest aching as he hides his face away, “Remember when you said you always wanted to be someone’s?” Death asks slowly, a small smile pulling at his lips as Tommy freezes up in his hold, suddenly feeling very constricted and trapped.
That had been a joke.
“Now you don’t have to worry about ever being alone, mate.” Death whispers, squeezing his arm around him, “Life kneels to Death,” He muses, tugging at one of his strands of hair, “How funny.”
“Fuck off,” He mutters, trying to push away from the man but he’s too weak. Death easily keeps him in his hold. It was embarrassing, and Tommy wanted nothing more then to be away from this fucker.
“We used to be equals,” Death continues, really rubbing it all in, “And now I have control over life and death.” He smiles, squeezing Tommy tighter, his black wings curling tighter around him.
“All thanks to you, mate,” He says as Tommy suddenly starts to get really drowsy, unable to keep his eyes open. He feels panic clawing at his chest again, as he tries to figure out what was going on, his grip on consciousness quickly slipping away from him.
“Right, well, Life can’t disappear for too long,” Death says, shifting Tommy in his hold, “I don’t want to throw off our balance, that would be bad.” He laughs quietly to himself, “It's time for you to return now, my dear Life. Off to do your job,” He says, his voice slowly fading.
“I will be visiting soon, until then I hope whoever you brought back was worth everything you did for them.” Death says, his cold hand lingering against his face, “Until then, Life.”
”Wait, no— wait!” Darkness fills his vision as Tommy passes out, falling further into Death’s clutches.
~~~~
Tommy returns to the waking world with a jolt, his body lurching forwards with a gasp, his chest burning as he turns on his side, heaving for breath. His mind is slow to catch back up with him, the panic from earlier clawing its way into his chest, as he spits out blood, pain flaring throughout his whole body.
Each inhale of breath feels like fire, as adrenaline races through his veins, his heart pounding as his stiff limbs slowly start to wake up again. His hands and feet feel numb, his fingers unable to curl in on themselves yet, with an unnatural cold washing over him, settled deep within his bones.
Someone else was here with him, speaking to him in a panicked, rushed voice. He comes back from Death’s clutches slowly, the last of his presence fading away, leaving him feeling alone and empty. There's a deep ache in his chest that didn’t go away, as it slowly fades into the background, a dull throb.
“Tommy? Tommy!” He hears someone cry above him, but he's too out of it to react, his limbs trembling as his authority slowly returns to him, yet it feels wrong. He feels wrong, different, like a big piece of himself is missing, ripped out of his soul and mended back incorrectly.
“Wil— Wilbur! Give him some space,” Another, deeper voice chimes in— Tommy dully realizes it’s his angel. He blindly reaches out to him, wanting something of his around. Techno grabs him gently, lifting him up off the ground, cradling him to his chest.
He’s warm, and as Tommy fights to come back up he focuses on that, on the way his chest rises and falls, his gentle voice as he speaks to him.
He dimly realizes that his wings are out, and that he must appear very… disheveled in front of the two of them, but he can’t bring himself to care right now as he clings onto Techno desperately, chasing his comfort and warmth.
Death was so cold.
“Tommy,” Techno says, his chest rumbling as Tommy opens his eyes, finding himself tucked closely against him, wrapped up in his arms, “What happened?” He asks slowly, and Tommy just whines, pressing impossibly closer to him.
“Tommy?” Wilbur asks slowly, tentatively, and Tommy freezes, his mind short circuiting as his head whips around to see the man.
Wilbur kneels in front of the two, a worried expression on his face. His brown eyes are puffy from tears and he’s got a beanie thrown on his head, some of his brown curls spilling out from underneath it. He wears a gray sweater, with his stupid trench coat he likes so much on.
He looks alive, with a slight pink tint to his skin now, instead of the cold paleness that comes from death.
Tommy launches himself at Wilbur, the two of them toppling over in the grass, as Tommy hugs him tightly, pressing himself as close to Wilbur as possible.
“Toms—“ Wilbur breathes out, hugging Tommy back, the two of them laying in the grass for what felt like hours.
Tommy didn’t just give himself up for nothing. He didn’t do it for nothing— it makes it worth it. It makes it all worth it. He clings tighter to Wilbur, breathing in his scent, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath him.
It wasn’t until Wilbur shifts underneath him did Tommy stir, blinking open his eyes at Wilbur as the man slowly sits up, keeping Tommy in his lap, pressed against his chest.
“Tommy,” Techno says slowly, gaining his attention, as Tommy’s wings curl around Wilbur, his authority slowly seeping into the man. He was going to make him another one of his angels, wether Wilbur wants it or not.
Tommy would never lose him again.
“What happened?” Techno asks, his eyes boring into his, as Techno reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder, “I can tell something’s changed. What— Tommy, what did you do?” He asks, a concerned look on his face. Tommy fights back tears at that, trying to find some explanation for Techno.
Life was no longer a separate being, his own entity– no, Life was owned by Death, and thus Death owned everything Life did.
The thought makes him sick; that he somehow failed Techno— failed Wilbur— this badly.
Tommy failed, and the thought alone makes him angry, and upset, that after all of this time this is what it boils down to.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers out, not trusting his voice right now, “I’m so sorry—“ He says, his voice wavering as tears fill his eyes. Wilbur makes a pained noise, tucking Tommy closer to him, burying his face away in his hair.
“Toms, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” He whispers, “You— you don’t have to be sorry.”
“Wilbur,” Tommy breaks, tears freely flowing down his face as he hugs him again, his wings trembling, “Death— he, Death owns me now!” He exclaims, “I— I couldn't make it in time, and Death caught me, and he said I owed him a debt. A life for a life.” He recounts with a shudder, his voice wavering.
Wilbur tenses for a moment before relaxing, peering up at Techno.
The two seem to come to a silent agreement.
“That doesn't matter,” Techno says, rubbing his back, right in between his wings, “All that matters is that you and Wilbur are both here, the three of us together.” Techno says, as Tommy cries, reaching out for his angel.
Techno wraps his arms around the two, the three of them holding each other close, as Tommy cries, unable to stop himself from sobbing. Tommy fucked up so badly– there was no coming back from this.
“I’m— I’m sorry,” He cries, his hands curling into Techno’s shirt, “I—“
“Stop, Toms,” Wilbur cuts him off, “We don’t blame you for anything.”
“Theseus,” Techno sighs, “You brought Wilbur back, you got back here— that's all that matters.”
Tommy just cries harder, slumping into the holds of his family, allowing his angels to care for him.
~~~~
A week passes without any incidents.
Tommy slowly settles into his new sense of normal, the off feeling in his chest slowly dissipating by the day.
Wilbur has the hardest time adjusting from being in limbo for so long, as he slowly gets used to living again. Tommy and Techno help him as much as they can, but sometimes the man just needs to be alone.
Tommy knows there's a lot bothering Wilbur right now, not only the lingering effects from his limbo, but the new knowledge that Tommy was Life, a godly being, and that Tommy made him one of his angels alongside Techno.
Tommy sits curled up on the couch, right beside Wilbur, his brother having him tucked under his arm, playing with his hair as they watch tv— though Tommy’s really just dozing off.
Techno is cooking something in their kitchen, the smell of it making his stomach grumble. Wilbur gives him an amused look but doesn't say anything, slouching further into the couch with Tommy tucked underneath his arm.
It had been a lazy day, the three of them all waking up late and deciding to ignore all their responsibilities and stay home. It was nice, just being around his family all day, with Wilbur back it was like the hole that had been there was filled once again.
The doorbell rings.
Tommy groans, hiding his face away in Wilbur’s shoulder at the offending noise.
“Techno! Go see who the fuck it is,” Tommy grumbles, and he hears Techno sigh before he makes his way over to the front door. Wilbur snickers under his breath, amused as he watches Techno trudge his way over.
Tommy listens as Techno opens it, the way a sudden chill makes its way into his bones, making him stiffen up, unease filling his stomach as he tenses. Wilbur shoots him a confused look, worry swirling up in his eyes as Tommy freezes up beside him, terror making its way into his veins.
“Hello, mate,” Comes a familiar voice, “Is Tommy here?”