Chapter Text
There’s a few things Sam will always hold onto. Number one: his mother’s hot chocolate recipe. Number two: The day he first joined the Dream SMP. And number 3: The look on Tommyinnit’s face right now. This huge smile, childlike glimmer in his eyes.
His mouth is running a mile a minute, something about how he’s going to build a hotel and he wants to hire Sam to do it. Sam admires his motives, a place for everyone without a home. It’s noble, and Sam can get behind it. He only makes Tommy pay because he gets the sense Tommy won’t trust that he’d do it out of the kindness of his heart. Too many people have been kind to him for their own purpose. Once bitten, twice shy, accept Tommy’s been bitten so much more than once. His enduring kindness is layered under this thick blanket of trauma. It’s been scarred into this poor boy that kindness gets taken advantage of.
He saw it in the prison, and he’s seeing it now. The layers are miles thick. Tommy’s entire stance changes around adults, regardless of who. It’s a tense, anxious way of holding himself. He doesn’t have that around people his age, not Tubbo or Ranboo. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Tommy’s trust in adults is so utterly broken. He’s tense around Sam and Sam has never done anything to hurt Tommy.
Tommy’s constantly bouncing on his feet when he’s not stiff as a board, as if he’s ready to bolt or fight. The first thing he does when he approaches someone is search for exits, eyes darting quickly at his surroundings. Tommy adds the protection clause to their contract without realizing Sam would rather die than let anything else happen to Tommy.
Sam starts to pick up on the differences between bad days and good days. Tommy’s ridiculously good at hiding when he’s hurting, but there are always signs. Fidgeting, particularly running his fingers over his armor, like he needs to feel it to know it’s there. Sam doesn’t want to pry, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s just checking he’s safe in armor or something more.
It’s on one of these bad days Sam makes his first mistake. Coincidently, he also gets an answer to his question in the worst way possible. He walks up to Tommy, who’s leaning against his fenced off hotel land, and starts his usual Tom Nook impersonation. He sees Tommy jump, his hands springing to clasps of his armor as he turns. Then there’s a pile of armor at his feet and Tommy with his hands up over his face like he expects to be hit.
It takes him a moment to catch up, fingers slowing to a halt on his communicator. Tommy is dead silent, like he’s not even breathing. His eyes look far away.
First step is to step back. Just a short one, he wants to be close in case he needs to catch Tommy, who’s knees are shaking now.
“Tommy, you’re ok. It’s me, Sam. You’re ok, you can take your armor back,” He starts. “Can you hear me?”
The boy doesn’t respond beyond gently sinking to the ground. He’s whimpering softly in the back of his throat, tears brimming.
“Tommy? Tommy. You’re safe. Can you hear me?” Sam tries again.
This time, Tommy nods. It’s slight but Sam is so attentive right now he probably would notice if Tommy so much as twitched.
“Ok, good. That’s good. Can you tell me where you are?”
That gets a ‘no’.
“That’s ok, that’s alright. You’re safe right now at your hotel, that’s what matters. Can you focus on your breathing?”
A nod and a shuddering breath, rattling through Tommy’s body. He takes another, and another, following a pattern Sam doesn’t recognize.
“You’re doing so good. Can I touch you? Like just rest my hand on your knee?” Sam asks.
A nod. Sam very deliberately as slowly places his hand on Tommy’s knee, hovering for a second to make it clear he’s not going to hurt Tommy.
“Can you feel this?” Sam asks.
Tommy nods jerkily, taking another breath, holding it and then releasing it.
“Describe it to me? What can you feel? It doesn’t just have to be my hand.”
With the next breath Tommy croaks, “Warm, ‘t’s warm. And the grass is cold and wet.”
“Well, it did rain the other day. Alright, what can you see, just list a few things.”
“You, the hotel, bloodvines, my-my armor.” He stumbles over that last word and breaths in again.
“Ok, what about what you can smell? Can you smell anything?” Sam coaxes.
“Gun powder,” is Tommy’s immediate answer. “I don’t like it.”
Sam knows for a fact that he smells like plants and mud, and concrete, and that nothing around has gunpowder on it, so he wonders if Tommy is stuck in a memory. “Anything else?”
“Gr-grass. Uhm.”
“It’s ok if you can’t find anything else, you’re doing great so far,” Sam encourages. “Can you taste anything? Just one thing is ok.”
“Lunch, uh. carrots, golden carrots,” Tommy says. His eyes look a lot more focused and suddenly he’s Tommy again instead of hollow and haunted.
“Thank you so much. Do you feel better?”
Tommy nods before slumping further down, clearly exhausted. “Thanks, Sam Nook.”
“Do you want to call it a day and head home? Take some time to fully calm down?” Sam offers, clearly stating it as Tommy’s choice, no matter how badly he wants to scoop the kid up and bring him to his bed.
“No... Home doesn’t feel safe anymore,” Tommy admits quietly. “Lots of people have messed with it.”
“Ok. Would you like to head back to my base? You can see Fran and stay the night if you’d like.”
Tommy looks like he’s about to refuse before tears well up again and he just nods, looking every bit a stressed out sixteen year old. The urge to hide Tommy away until he’s better rises in Sam’s chest.
Sam picks the armor up to hand it to Tommy, keeping his motions slow and clear. Tommy is clearly fragile today. His leg is bouncing from where he’s slumped and he’s obviously chewing on his lip.
“Let’s do that then. What do you want to eat for dinner?”
From that moment on, Sam let’s Tommy approach him first unless absolutely necessary, and then he makes his steps loud and clear and starts talking from a good ten feet away, to help Tommy recognize it’s him coming towards him.
It takes a lot of time and effort on Sam’s part to gain Tommy’s trust. The process on the hotel continues, and Sam adopts his ‘Sam Nook’ persona often, just because Tommy’s face lights up each time he hears the garbled video game dialogue sounds. Slowly but surely over the course of three weeks Tommy starts to relax around him more often. It takes even more weeks for him to fully trust Sam, but god is it worth it to see his boy healing.
It starts with Tommy coming to him on his bad days. Whether it’s to work on the hotel as a distraction, or just straight to Sam’s base to have breakfast and cuddle with Fran. Sam teaches Tommy some redstone, who in turn builds Tubbo a piston door for his ‘secret’ vault. Sam couldn’t be prouder. He isn’t too caught up in praising his boy to notice Jack’s sneer in their direction. From behind his mask, he doesn’t think Jack realizes that he can see him. Sam tracks his face right to Tommy and instantly that protective instinct bubbles up. He offers Tubbo to have a sleep over at his base but Tubbo declines. He’s not worried for Tubbo though, not as much as he is for Tommy. Tubbo is well liked on the server. Tommy is not, excluding Tubbo and Sam.
He doesn’t bring it up with Tommy because yet another adult out to get him might undo all the progress he’s made. He’s still fragile, he still screams so loud at night sometimes and refuses to let anyone touch him but Tubbo and Sam. He still tenses around adults . It’s clear to Sam Tommy is not ready. You don’t heal completely from the things Tommy has been through in a month and a half.
A little nagging part of his brain says that not telling Tommy might get him hurt, but he shuts it down. He’ll be fine. Jack seems to like Tubbo and Sam makes the judgement call that he wouldn’t want to hurt Tubbo by hurting Tommy. And if he did hurt Tommy, then nothing in the whole world would stand between Sam’s trident and Jack’s chest.
He leaves it be. This is his second mistake.
Tommy comes to the hotel work site one day, clearly on a bad day, probably the worst in a while. He’s trembling, just barely on his feet. The bags under his eyes are so deep he looks gaunt. He hunches in on himself and tenses the moment he’s stood still in front of Sam.
“Sam!” He starts, his usual enthusiasm is strained. This doesn’t seem like one of the days where Tommy will admit to struggling. Sometimes, he’s uncomfortable being vulnerable around anyone and Sam doesn’t take it to heart, ever. It’s not Sam’s presence, it’s the fact that Tommy’s healing and this is what it takes for his boy to heal.
“How are you today, Tommy?” Sam asks, at least giving Tommy a chance to open up if he wants to.
Tommy smiles weakly. Before he can properly respond someone is shouting over the fence. Tommy flinches hard, and Sam leans over to see Jack, leaning against the wood and waving.
“Hey, Sam! Sam!” Jack starts. He spouts on about how he’s flat broke and wants to work at building the hotel, but Sam is only half listening. Tommy is slowly deteriorating in front of him, keeping his back to Jack, but his eyes on him over his shoulder. Sam can tell he’s trying to act normal. Something is up. Call it a gut feeling; something isn’t right here.
“I’m currently under hire by Tommyinnit, so I’ll have to talk to him first,” Sam says coldly.
He gently coaxes Tommy further away without touching him. They get into the first layer of the hotel, hidden mostly from Jack’s view. Tommy is full on shaking now, face pale and breathing short. Tommy closes his eyes and slides down one of the red concrete walls.
“Do you remember your breathing techniques?” Sam asks gently.
Tommy nods, and starts breathing in and out in his timed patterns. Sam holds out a hand for Tommy to take if he wants to. Tommy eyes his hand before gently reaching out and grabbing it tight.
“You can squeeze my hand if you need to,” Sam allows.
Tommy nods sharply. He breathes in, and he breathes out. Sam’s hand gets squeezed three times in quick succession. Another breathing pattern and another three squeezes. It’s not what Sam was expecting when he said Tommy could squeeze his hand, but he’s not going to question it. After the third time, Sam squeezes back the same and Tommy sucks in a deep breath. For a moment, Sam worries he messed up, but then Tommy gives him a watery smile.
“You doing ok now, Tommy?”
A nod. Tommy swallows roughly, “Y-yeah. I think Jack’s a wrongen.”
“You don’t have to work with him if you think so,” Sam says gently.
“He said he was broke, though. I don’t want him to go hungry,” Tommy mutters.
There’s that everlasting kindness Tommy hides from everyone. “He’s an adult, he can take care of himself. You don’t owe him anything. If he makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to put up with him.”
“I know, I know. I don’t want to be selfish.” Tommy tilts his head onto his knees.
“It’s not selfish. It’s not like Jack doesn’t have other people he can rely on,” Sam assures. “You are the most selfless person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, Tommy. Your concern proves it.”
“You’re not too awful to know either,” Tommy jokes softly.
Sam chuckles. “Do you want a hug?”
Tommy opens his arms and pushes himself towards Sam, who’s ready to catch him before he even finishes his question. They hold there for a few seconds before Tommy abruptly pulls away mumbling something snarky. Jack’s yelling starts up again from outside, asking if they’re still there.
“You want to stay here while I refuse Jack?” Sam asks.
Tommy shakes his head no. “Of course not, big man. I’m the boss, I’ll kick him to the curb myself. Your job is to look scary and intimidatin’. In case he refuses, y’know?”
Sam smiles and nods. “Don’t forget to put your hard hat on. Also work jeans are now required.”
“Awww, c’mon Saaaam. Really?” Tommy whines.
Sam nods and types into his communicator: SAFETY FIRST, TOMMYINNIT. PLEASE WEAR THE CORRECT SAFETY EQUIPMENT WHILE ON THE BUILDSITE. He handed Tommy a pair of jeans and walked out of the half built building to give Tommy a moment to collect himself. For a moment he wonders what that hand squeeze pattern must have meant to Tommy.
~~~~~
Tommy had been doing great, from what Sam could see. The progress on the hotel is going smoothly, supplies steadily trickling in from the little tasks he gives his kid. Today Sam has him collecting spruce, disregarding the complaining on Tommy’s end about how oak is so much better. He makes a mental note to include oak as well in the room plans. If it makes Tommy happy, he’s all for it.
Tommy messaged him something about heading far away with Niki because she ‘swears there’s good spruce trees here’. Sam tries not to be too anxious, knowing how Tommy can be around adults. Niki is trustworthy though, Tommy once confessed over eggs on toast that Niki is like a big sister to him. Sam tries to ignore the bad feeling in his gut as Tubbo starts a countdown to… something. He’s heard whispers (you don’t have a job running a prison without both ears open) of nukes, something he vaguely recalls from history textbooks as being the most dangerous weapon made by man.
He really hopes it’s not nukes. He also hopes Tommy is nowhere near them.
Like always, his gut feeling is correct. He gets a frantic message from Niki, apologies and coordinates mixed in with spelling errors. Niki is a slow typer, but with how fast the messages are coming in she must be speeding to type. He sees Tommy’s name, butchered spelling but still recognizable and it’s like a while opens up below him as his stomach drops.
Sam dumps as many potions as he can fit into his inventory from his enderchest and takes off by trident, worry seizing his chest. Tommy better be alright, or Sam isn’t sure what’s going to happen but it won’t be good. He’s joked with Tommy about his villian arc, insisting that the worst he’d do would be to put too much mustard on Tommy’s sandwich, but that’s the very least of what Sam could and would do if something happened to his son (he wonders exactly when Tommy became his son. he can’t quite remember).
He hits the ground hard at the location, his knees buckling into the bucket of water he placed moments earlier. No damage caused but the aftershock makes his teeth hurt. Someone is crying hard, and there’s these wet gasping sounds that don’t sound like the same person.
“Niki?” Sam calls out; the sobbing ceases momentarily. “I got your message, what happened to Tommy?”
The sobbing behinds anew, with even more vigor than before. “O-ov-er he-re.”
Sam stumbles his way forward, boots sinking in the powdery snow, and rounds a tree to the worst sight he’s ever seen. Niki is leaning up against a tree, tears running down her face as she cradles Tommy. His boy is bloody, bleeding from his eyes, ears, mouth, nose, and it’s all too much blood. His shirt is almost entirely red now.
Sam’s breath catches in his throat and he jerks himself forward, sinking up to his ankles in the thick snow with each step. “Tommy!”
He’s by his son’s side in a matter of moments. “Tommy, Tommy, hold on, I’m here.”
Sam fumbles with potions, reading labels twice to make sure and gently lifting Tommy off Niki’s lap. Almost instantly Tommy groans, barely moving. Niki’s pants are stained deep red from where Tommy laid.
“Hey, bud, here. I need you to drink this, ok? I’m sorry I don’t have any splash potions but you have to drink this,” Sam instructs, shaking hands holding the lip to his kid’s mouth.
Tommy jerks a bit, gurgling until his eyes focus in on Sam. His blue eyes held so much pain, and Sam tips the potion up a bit, only for Tommy to cough it up with more blood.
“No, no. Drink this, Tommy please. Please. I know it hurts right now but you have to drink this,” Sam starts panicking. Tommy is very limp, very cold and probably in shock. “Ok. Ok. I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. Would you please drink this, please!”
He tips it further and even though the sound Tommy’s throat makes when he swallows roughly will haunt him in his nightmares there’s a wave of relief as he starts to take more of the potion with more ease. Sam is shaking harder, crying into his mask right now. It’s too hot under there. He can’t take his hands away from Tommy to remove it.
The first potion is the most difficult, the next two are easier. He hesitates at a fourth one, since Tommy’s veins are glowing soft magenta already from under his skin. Too much of anything is a bad thing. He’s just happy Tommy is alive.
“Ok, thank you Tommy, I’m proud of you for getting those down. I need you to stay awake for a bit ok? Can you do that for Sam Nook, please?” Sam can’t help but babble, to fill the awful silence that would otherwise only be filled by Niki’s tears.
Tommy nods again, a little stronger. One of his hands slowly lifts up to grip at Sam’s, squeezing in that quick three burst pattern over and over again.
Sam squeezes back after every time, still not sure what it means. “You’re gonna have to explain to me what that means, Tommy. When you’re all better you can tell me. And I’ll make hot chocolate and tell you all about my adventures when I first joined the SMP. But you gotta stay awake until the potions work.”
Tommy smiles at him, teeth bloody and eyes pained. “Ok.”
Sam’s breath hitches again and he pulls Tommy carefully up higher, so he can rest his son’s head on his shoulder. With Tommy no longer blocking his view he can see Niki clearly now.
“What happened?” He asks, softly.
“The nuke. Tubbo was doing a test run today. Tommy was supposed to die when it went off,” she says quietly in between sobs. “He wasn’t supposed to be in pain before that. He wasn’t supposed to trust me so wholeheartedly.”
Anger burns under Sam’s skin when he puts the pieces together. Niki led his son right into the path of a nuclear test. Niki meant to kill his boy, his son. The kid who has given everything for almost nothing in return, who can’t even meet Sam’s eye sometimes without having a panic attack. Who’s so fragile but so strong and who’s changed Sam’s life irreversibly.
“After I know Tommy is safe, I’m arresting you,” he says coldly. “You will get a trial and a sentence and if I have anything to say about it, a spot in my prison.”
Niki nods and cries harder. For some reason, Sam doesn’t think it’s for her own future.
~~~~
As promised, Sam sets two mugs hot cocoa, made like his mother taught him, onto the table a week later. One in Tommy’s unofficially claimed seat, and one in his. Tommy is on crutches, one of his legs healed wrong from the potions and Sam doesn’t want to bring up that in order to fix it, it has to be broken again. He watches Tommy pick up the specially crafted items and tuck them under his arms. He lifts himself slowly off the couch, and Sam would offer to help if he hadn’t been turned down repeatedly already.
“You weren’t kidding about the hot cocoa,” Tommy mutters, before gingerly lowering himself into the chair.
“Didn’t know if you wanted whipped cream,” Sam offers in way of conversation. “Have you ever had hot cocoa before? I know it’s not a super common drink.”
“Yeah, once. Phil made it a while back, for Tech’s tenth? tenth. birthday. It sucked, he forgot to add sugar,” Tommy says.
“I promise I added sugar to this, and milk, and some cream and some cinnamon. Oh and the marshmallows are store bought so who knows what’s in them,” Sam jokes.
Tommy snorts. “MSG and shit. You know I heard they put bone marrow in them.”
“Nothing wrong with some marrow.” Sam lifts his mug and breathes in the smell of the cocoa, the cinnamon and it’s like his mother’s warm hands are squishing his face as she coos at him. He takes a small sip, pleased with how it came out. “Let me know what you think.”
Tommy’s already got a foamy mustache. “Better than Phil’s, that’s for sure.”
Sam smiles. “The hand squeeze thing.”
Tommy pauses from drinking, “Yeah?”
“What is it? I figured it meant something, but I don’t know what.”
Tommy gives him this stare as his face starts to turn pink. “It’s something my family and I used to do. Means ‘I love you’ and some shit. One squeeze for each syllable. I-love-you. Have you seriously been returning that without knowing what it was?”
Sam freezes for a moment. “I guess? I do love you though, Tommy. You’re family to me, now.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know that you’re a kid who’s grown up too fast and that I would do anything to make the end of your childhood better. Isn’t that enough to love you unconditionally like family does?”
Sam pretended to not notice the tears falling down Tommy’s cheeks.
~~~~
It took far too long for Niki’s trial. Five hours total, with Sam seething in his seat. He barely took in any information, only able to see Tommy’s blood covered face in his mind every time he looked at Niki. Tommy had to give his statement, something Sam was vehemently against. Tommy lost a lot of progress in his emotional healing, and Sam hated to see his boy’s hands shaking on the stand as he stumbled over his words.
When he got back to his seat besides Sam, he linked his hand in with Sam’s as soon as he could. Sam squeezed the I-love-you pattern, and took pride in watching Tommy’s shoulder untense just a little.
Escorting Niki into a cell in his prison was another thing he took pride in.
“I’m sorry,” She had whispered. “I’m really sorry.”
Sam wanted to snarl at her that it didn’t matter. He wanted to scream at her that she hurt someone who trusted her, thought of her as a sister and that her apologies were worth shit. It wasn’t true, though. It did matter, just not to him. “I’m not the one who you need to apologize to.”
“I know. But I don’t think he wants to see me,” Niki muttered.
Sam took a deep breath. “If he says something, I won’t stop him.” The thing is, Tommy most certainly would want to see her. Either for closure, an explanation, or to forgive her, because his son is like that. Way too willing to forgive. And it’s not Sam’s place to keep him from that. As much as he thinks of Tommy as his kid, he doesn’t actually have any authority over Tommy.
The cell door closes, and Niki sits herself on the provided carpet in the corner. Sam hovers for a moment around the outside. “He loved you, you know. I don’t know the full story, but I think at one point in time you deserved that love. And if he forgives you, you will have to prove to both of us that you deserve it again.”
~~~~
Sam knocks on the door to Tommy’s room. “Tommy? I have something for you.”
“Leave it by the door?” Tommy sounds shaky. It’s one of those days.
“Ok,” Sam agrees.
He puts his present down in the side with the door handle so Tommy can grab it without having to leave the room all the way, and makes sure to make his footsteps away clear and obvious.
He heard the door open and close.
Tommy comes out for lunch, putting his weight on his gift, a cane. Tommy complained of the crutches hurting his arms after a while and eventually Sam knew he would have to bring up resetting his leg, but for now, the cane would have to do. If Tommy starts complaining about his leg hurting, they’d talk about what Tommy wanted to do.
“Do you like it?” Sam asks. He sets a plate down with some rabbit on it. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t know,” Tommy says, his voice raspy. “I like it, it’s a thoughtful gift. I don’t like that I need it.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Sam praises. He knows Tommy struggles with not lying to appease people he’s close too. “It’s ok to have conflicting feelings about it. I wouldn’t have been mad if you didn’t like it entirely.”
“I know,” Tommy mumbles into his food. There’s a silent I trust you following his admission.
“Got any plans for the week?”
Tommy’s eyes dart to the side and suddenly he looks very nervous.
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Will you at least be safe during your plans?”
“I want to see Dream one last time,” he says slowly, meeting Sam’s eyes.
Sam almost chokes on his coffee. He clears his throat. “I’m not saying you're not allowed to, but are you sure?”
Tommy tilts his head to the side and picks at his food. “I just want some closure. It’s something Puffy and I have been talking about.”
Puffy started offering therapy and Sam and Tommy had a long talk about whether Tommy wanted therapy or not. Tommy was reluctant, but not entirely opposed. He went once, just to try it out and then just kept going back.
“I’m gonna tell him he can’t do anything to me anymore. Tell him he has no power over me,” Tommy continues. His voice is hard and eyes are far away, like he’s imagining standing in the prison.
“That’s a good idea,” Sam agrees. “When do you want to go?”
“Today. I just want to fucking get it over with.” Tommy stabbed the bit of meat. “If that’s ok, of course. Like if you’ve got the time.”
Sam sips his coffee, the last few dredges being cold and overly sweet. “I’ve always got time for you, Tommy. Especially with important things like this.”
“Don’t want to be an inconvenience,” Tommy says simply.
“You’re not. Ever,” Sam reassures. “We can go after lunch is done, if you’d like.”
Tommy nods once.
~~~~
Sam is not expecting a fucking security breach to happen while Tommy confronts Dream. His whole chest is tight and pinched and painful because he finally got the security breach under control. Someone tried to break the walls with TnT. He never found out who.
Ultimately it had been four days until Sam had secured the prison again. It would have been longer but Sam couldn’t sleep knowing Tommy was in there and he had no way of protecting his son. He worked day and night repairing the damage to the prison, and rewiring the redstone.
The second he got done with repairs he was racing through the staff only passages and lowering the lava. He’s never been so impatient about the sheets of lava slowly lowering in his life. Sam rides the bridge over, thanking to any god out there that Tommy decided to rest himself on the other side of the netherite blocks. He keeps his eyes on Dream as he hooks Tommy’s arms over his shoulders and his hands under the poor kids legs.
Tommy is shaking, clutching onto Sam’s sweatshirt from under his armor. He pulls Tommy closer as he steps back onto the bridge. Dream’s eyes never leave the pair, the deep bags underneath them making him look hollow.
The moment the lava is down, Sam sinks to his knees and grabs Tommy’s hand to squeeze out an I-love-you. Tommy barely reacts, just letting tears flow down his face and shaking harder. He pushes away from Sam, leaning over to dry heave against the cool obsidian floor.
Sam let’s him go, gently standing to bring the lava back down. Tommy’s hand snatches his ankle and holds tight to the stiff guard uniform pants.
“Ok, I won’t leave,” Sam says softly. He picks his son up again, letting Tommy rest his head in the crook of Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s hoodie is wet with his kid’s tears in seconds and it breaks his heart.
Once the lava is down, he takes Tommy through the guard’s tunnels and out to the front of the prison. Tommy sobs harder when they stop moving.
“It’s ok, you’re safe, Tommy.” Sam keeps up the steady stream of comfort as he guide’s Tommy’s hand to the ender chest, and presses it to the eye under the latch until it clicks and opens. He collects the locker key and gathers Tommy’s stuff, letting it sink into his kid’s inventory before moving on.
Tommy clutches harder at his shirt. The hard netherite armor he has to wear as the warden must be digging uncomfortably into Tommy’s front. He feels a bit bad, but he is required to wear his armor within the prison walls and with Tommy clinging to him like a baby monkey it would be difficult to even get boots off.
“Wanna go home?” Sam murmurs into Tommy’s hair. “My base, I mean. I bet Fran would love to say hi.”
Tommy nods. Sam’s arms hurt by the time he sets Tommy in his bed. He stays with Tommy for the night, sitting leaning up against the bed, his hand clenched in Tommy’s, who refused to let go, even after he fell asleep. Fran is practically laying on top of Tommy, happily snoozing away on her second favorite person in the world.
~~~~
“Saaaaaam,” Tommy whines. “What’d you mean I can’t work on the hotel today?”
“I’m taking a day off, you should to,” Sam says from his couch. He’s still in pajamas, and he probably still will be up until dinner, in which he will change into another set of pajamas. If all goes well today, that is.
Tommy slumps. “I don’t want to!”
“Then you're free to go do what you do when you’re not working on the hotel. Or you can stay here,” Sam offers.
“But I want to do something. I don’t know what,” Tommy admits, pulling a face.
Sam eyes him for a moment. He’s fidgiting a bit, playing with his fingers and the tip of his cane. Tommy’s posture is shit as usual, not tense like he is when he’s incredibly anxious. Sam knows Tommy has hardly left the base in the past 3 weeks since he got out of the prison. He only leaves to work on the hotel when Sam leaves to do the same. So, Tommy must be restless.
“You can walk Fran if you want to,” Sam suggests. “And I’m sure Tubbo wouldn’t mind a visit. You don’t have to leave, though. A day off doesn’t mean I don’t do anything.”
Tommy narrows his eyes. “Well then what do you do?”
Sam shrugs “Redstone repairs, mostly. Any cleaning that needs to get done. Sometimes I visit Ponk but with the… egg, I shouldn’t be doing that anymore.”
“Can you teach me more redstone?” Tommy’s eyes light up with excitement. “I’ll help with cleaning if you do.”
“I’d be happy to teach you more, even if you don’t actually want to help me clean.”
~~~~
Tommy goes back to therapy again after a month and a half of basically shadowing Sam. After one session, he leaves Puffy’s little work office looking far more contemplative than a 16 year old should. Sam expects Tommy to be quiet for a good few hours when he looks this way. He expects his kid to be a bit on autopilot, stuck in his thoughts as they turn over and over. It’s not easy being a teen having gone through so much, and Sam can’t understand half the things that go through Tommy’s head on a daily basis.
“Sam?” Tommy asks, surprising Sam for a moment. “Why.. Why am I a child when it’s convenient?”
Sam furrows his brows. He’s not sure he’s qualified to answer, or if he really has an answer. It’s a tough question and not one Sam saw coming. Apparently he takes too long to answer because Tommy starts rambling, like he has to elaborate.
“Puffy told me it’s not normal for adults to think like that. That it’s not my fault when they do. But why me? Why me and Tubbo? Why are we children when it’s convenient to others?”
Sam swallows roughly. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say I know. You are children, you and Tubbo. I don’t know what goes on in other people’s heads, but I think it has something to do with how high everyone’s expectations are for you. And Tubbo. You especially though.”
“But why though?”
“You don’t act like kids. I mean, you do, all the time, but I think other people see it as the two of you indulging in being kids, as if you aren’t entitled to act like a kid normally. It’s not your fault though, you’re allowed to be mature and act older than you are. And you're certainly allowed to be a kid if you choose to, that’s not an indulgence. It’s not your fault that people forget you’re actually sixteen,” Sam offers. “It’s their problem if they think you’re ‘old enough’ to hold the weight of the world.”
Tommy nods. “Can I have a hug?”
Sam opens his arms and smiles. “Always.”