Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tommy stared into the bright ceiling fluorescents and let the light burn into his skull. It was unpleasant and left his eyes burning and his brain buzzing, but the lights were the only thing he could truly see. The light was his new and only constant in his life— besides the visits from his friends. He could always rely on them to break the oppressive black he usually “sees.” The boy sat up. He could hear the distant thud, thud, thuds of footsteps— Jack’s footsteps— and he smiled. Jack wasn’t always the gentlest toward the blind boy, but Tommy was grateful for what the man did for him.

Tommy’s friends— his saviors — were who kept him alive. Sure, he didn’t know exactly how they kept him from dying by stabbing him with needles and shoving potions down his throat, but who was he to question? He was a nuisance and a needy child. He annoyed them enough, and he shouldn’t waste their kindness.

The heavy door swung open, and the boy turned toward its general direction.

“Jack? How’ve you been? Anything interesting happen while you were out?” Tommy turned his head according to the sound of leather on concrete. He received no acknowledgment.

“Jack?” Tommy heard a grumble and a rustle of movement. Then a bag opened.

“Be quiet, Tommy. How many times have I got to tell you?” Tommy smiled at Jack’s exasperated timbre. The boy shrugged off the harsh comment. But in the crevices of his heart, a little hope— just the hope for kinder words— died.

“C’mon, Jack… surely you’ve got something to tell me?” Tommy hoped once more. Jack huffed and grabbed the boy’s arm. “Well, sorry to disappoint, now stay still.” Something popped and clacked into a plastic container. “Oh no, it’s quite alright, Ja-ACK! Ah–ah! Ouch! Jack!” Tommy thrashed, which only made Jack’s grip tighter. Tommy whined as Jack pulled out the needle. The boy felt something wet on his skin.

“Gods damn it! Tommy, don’t move, Prime, must you be so difficult ?!” Jack seethed. Tommy felt his eyes burn and water; he felt more liquid dribble from the exit wound. The shots always burned, but they burned more when he thrashed like that. What was wrong with him? He knew what was going to happen, he knew to stay still, Jack even generously told him!

Tommy gathered himself and recalled how Jack told him to correctly apologize.

“I apologize for my mistake and humbly accept my suitable punishment…”

Jack huffed, but Tommy could hear the smile and couldn’t help but smile too. Yes, he felt like curling up and crying until he choked, but that didn’t matter compared to making up for his mistake.

Tommy shuddered as Jack wiped the blood from his skin with sanitizing wipes. “Promise me there won’t be a repeat of that in the future, okay? It’s a pain in the arse to deal with your crying.” Tommy enthusiastically nodded. “I’ll make sure not to mess up again!” Jack merely sighed as he threw the dirty wipes into the plastic container with the used needle. Tommy waited in silence as he endured the increasing burn from the shot.

The shot was neither painless nor quick. It made Tommy feel like shit afterward. It started with a burning sensation in his biceps before traveling to his whole arm and, eventually, half his body. By then, he’d have taken a healing pot to relieve the pain, but when he gets that privilege taken away. Tommy would be left a writhing mess on the floor, sniveling and wailing like a newborn baby without its mother’s milk.

Tommy felt Jack’s hand under his chin, and his jaw instantly opened. Jack hummed in satisfaction and slowly poured the potion for the boy to drink. Tommy preened at the hint of his handler’s approval after thoroughly disappointing him.

The health potion went down smoothly, and Tommy felt the burn lessen, but the bitter aftertaste had him silently gagging around the vial. Jack tipped the bottle away and dropped it into the plastic container.

“Your schedule has been changed, Tommy, but I’m busy and have to be going soon, so Niki will explain to you once she’s here. She’ll be here sooner than usual.”

Jack closed the plastic container and stood. Tommy felt dread build in his gut. Schedule changes aren’t always bad, but remembered days where “schedule change” meant skipping meals or being alone for the rest of the day. Being alone was worse than missing food. Tommy’s memories are clouded, but he remembers suffering through malnutrition many times. He knew he once held his bones through his skin and could feel the flesh of his cheeks deflate and sag.

He didn’t like remembering how he was atrophied and uncared for, but it let him know that he could handle punishment. Someone from his past had punished him the same way before he remembered. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure who did it. He frowned. They couldn’t have been good because they left, and Jack and Niki didn’t. That made them his friends. Right?

⊱—–　ⲇ　–—⊰

Tommy awoke to the sound of flats clacking outside. He slowly lifted himself into a sitting position and felt the sensations across his body. His cheek ached and his throat stung; his side and shoulders were sore. Tommy uselessly tried to blink the post–cry stickiness from his eyes. The door creaked open.

“Niki…?” The boy croaked. Fabric rustled to his right.

“Good afternoon, Tommy. Did Jack explain your schedule when he was here?” Niki grasped Tommy’s limbs and inspected him.

“No, he just up and left. He said you’d explain to me.” Tommy mumbled, letting himself be maneuvered. He heard Niki click her tongue in irritation. “Fine. You have visitors, dinner will be sooner, as well as your night shot,” she nudged Tommy to turn, “Jack told me about your accident and punishment, so that’ll fit well with the schedule change. Make sure not to roll around in mud or anything. I don’t want you to look like a wet cat while our visitors are here…”

Tommy nodded and obliged when Niki turned him around again. His thoughts ran rampant in his mind, positively bouncing off–the–walls. This would be the first time he’d be visited. The prospect was exciting and… terrifying. He wouldn’t know if they’d be friend or foe.

“Niki, who’s gonna visit me?”

“… open.” Tommy silently obeyed, his mouth dropping open as Niki considered her answer.

“You know him from a long time ago. Before you came into our custody…” Niki prodded her gloved fingers around his teeth. Tommy groaned uncomfortably before she took her fingers out.

Tommy swallowed the dryness from his throat and cringed at the persistent raw sting.

“I don’t think I remember anyone but you and Jack…” He intoned. There was a somberness to his voice that Niki couldn’t help but pity. Tommy was a pitiful boy. He was easy to look down on. Niki sneered privately and then composed herself. There was no place for her ugly emotions here.

“Trust me, you know him. Maybe not now, but you will.”

Tommy frowned. It looked more like a pout to Niki. How… cute. Pathetically cute.

“What’s his name?”

“Stop being so impatient; there’s a reason you’re meeting him today. Be on your best behavior, which means that you aren’t going to complain or ask unnecessary questions. Do you understand, Tommy?”

There was a certain edge to her voice that Tommy couldn’t help but cringe. Like a knife, an old and worn knife, but sharp.

“Yes, ma’am.”

His handler stood up and dusted her clothing before he heard her flats clack–clack–clack away. But he knew not to relax just yet. She hasn’t given him food yet. And just like clockwork, the sound of flats on tile came back, and the door swung open. This time, the smell of beef–broth and fresh muffins came with her. The boy’s shoulders relaxed at the welcoming scent. It reminded him of some far home he couldn’t remember. It was like seeing a picture that captures something so familiar yet something that isn’t real. You remember the wooden table and the beige carpet that seemed a little too rough. You remember dark wooden floors and tall off–white walls.

But you couldn’t pinpoint the when or where. The why of why this was familiar. How could a simple photo or painting capture the essence of a far–behind childhood so well?

Tommy couldn’t answer it either. So the question floated to the back of his mind, maybe it’ll find its answer in the archives left collecting dust, which Tommy wouldn’t dare touch because of the pain they bring.

Perhaps that’s where the memory of his mystery visitor resided.

Niki placed the tray in front of Tommy, and he paused his thoughts. His handler guided his hand to the spoon. Then the two muffins, one chocolate; and the other blueberry. Tommy hummed in gratitude and began eating. Niki monitored him from the corner.

⊱—–　❈　–—⊰

Two Years Later

Niki didn’t know what to think of the blind boy in her custody. She was the indirect cause of Tommy’s blindness, though she hadn’t intended it.

The handler glared at the boy covered in scars, markers of his past of war and violence. She only knew the origin of a few, most notably his Death Marks: The scab of an arrow through the heart, a star-shaped scar where a sword stabbed his back, and the startling white cracks across his face matched with white streaks in his hair from a beating “undone.”

His beating scars were on full display across his face. The cracks stemmed from his left eye and temple and receded into his pale–blond hair— if it could be called that. The boy’s hair looked bleached, all of its gold colors sapped out from stress and trauma. Niki could barely see the boy she used to know. Tommy who’d scream and be loud, who’d curse up storms and ignite the sparks of peoples’ hearts. Tommy who’s quiet and scared and’s trapped and robbed of his personhood. Niki couldn’t bear to call this “Tommy.” He wasn’t Tommy– no– he couldn’t be. This Tommy looked dead. Tommy looked closer to a corpse than the living– breathing– Tommy she knew.

Tommy was alive, so alive it was unfair.

Dream claimed to have revived Tommy– brought him back to life – but what he revived felt more like Tommy’s ghost. A zombie. He didn’t feel alive at all. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

Niki watched as Tommy ate. His white eyes were glassy and dead. His flesh held as much life as the clothes he wore. She had ought to bury him one day. No one would tell he was ever alive. Hadn’t her dream always been to get rid of the brat? To get rid of the single most prominent problem on the server? Even though the boy’s contained, it’s not like he’s been contributing anything.

The only reason Tommy was still alive was because of Wilbur and Dream.

Her comm buzzed.

Speak of the dragon.

"He lifted himself into a sitting position and felt the sensations across his body."