In the Shadows We Fight (for justice and ourselves)

Why don't you let the tears fall?

"I told you he would wake up when he wakes up. Right now, it's all about a mental thing," A voice called out as the door slowly opened. A figure came into the room holding a tray with food on it. Their gaze was first directed towards the bed, but then it swooped around the room to land on Tommy. The blonde gave a half-smile as the man blinked in disbelief. He was wearing a red, yellow, and black striped hijab across it, and he wore a casual black t-shirt with sweatpants. Right behind him, the person he must have been talking to, was a tall, green haired man that Tommy recognized as Sam. When Sam came all the way in, his acidic eyes landed on where the other man was looking. Tommy counted three seconds before Sam was rushing towards him. Tommy was scooped up into a hug, his feet rising above the ground as Sam buried his head into Tommy's shoulder. It was six and half seconds later that Tommy realized he was crying, and Sam was in a state of relief. The man chuckled briefly, "I told you he would wake up eventually."

"Where the hell am I? What the fuck just happened?" Tommy asked for the parts in his memories that were blank. The last thing he remembered was passing out beneath a piece of fallen roof slanted over him and the vigilante Nemesis who was trying to lift the roof up to crawl out of the abandoned building. He was given a good amount of information regarding the Marionettes, maybe not enough to be worth his soul, but he didn't regret coming out to discover the truth. Tommy stiffened as he thought about what Nemesis had been trying to tell him before the spear crashed down. Dream wasn't a murderer. He couldn't be... Tommy didn't know what he would do if Dream was.

"Someone left you at the doorstop of the cafe all bloodied and dirtied. I didn't even recognize you until I wiped your face off," Sam explained. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. He had known when he woke up that his mask was missing, but he didn't allow himself to think of the implications. It made him feel a lot better that Nemesis wasn't able to see his identity. If she had, Tommy would owe her everything he had or would ever have in exchange for her silence. Dream probably would have sent Tommy far away once it was known that Tommy was compromised. Tommy didn't want to quit his career, and he definitely didn't want to leave Drista alone by herself in the deceptive world of heroes and powers. "I took you here to my house. My... friend, Ponk, has the ability to speed up the healing process of others. Now, your side of the story, why did you show up on my doorstep looking like a building had collapsed on you?"

"Funny story... A building did collapse on me," Tommy chuckled awkwardly as he watched his words register on Ponk and Sam's faces. After six seconds, Sam was gripping the sides of Tommy's shoulders, searching Tommy's face for answers. Tommy relented. "I was looking around for a new restaurant to expand my horizons. Y'know, get cultured and shit? I ended up in the neutral territories, which are shit by the way, and I got curious when I saw some old, shitty warehouse. Unfortunately, an explosion just... happened. I don't remember much, to be honest. Just... a lot of fucking pain. I thought I was dying, Sam."

"You almost did, Toms. You were so close to death, right on the cusp of it," Sam whispered with a tone that meant the words pained him. Tommy swallowed back all the cruel words he wanted to fling at Sam and his niceties. When he was unfamiliar with emotions, Tommy tended to delve into sharp words that were poised to strike all the way to the heart. Sam didn't deserve that. Small-time heroes that wanted him to turn against Dream, vigilantes that didn't have a good cause, and most villains deserved the poison that Tommy was seconds away from unleashing. Sam was nice to Tommy. Nice enough to keep him alive when Sam didn't have to. Nice enough to help Tommy was with his stupid sounding questions. Nice enough to be genuinely concerned that Tommy almost died, holding Tommy against his chest while the boy cried for reasons he didn't yet understand. Sam was special in Tommy's life. When so many people were ready to take advantage of him, waiting for Tommy to make a careless mistake, Sam was there with unrelenting, stubborn parental care that Tommy hated but couldn't walk away from. Sam was like the sidekick gang or Wilbur. Tommy knew he should say goodbye now before it would become too painful later. He was holding on to the blade of this knife, aware that it was drawing blood but unwilling to let go. He loved the people in his life. He hated himself for it.