Chapter Text
The night was cold, but the rapid moving water was colder. With nowhere to hide nor run for fear of freezing, he was running out of options. He had to escape, get to the other side of the river, or at least die on his own terms. On his own turf, with his family at his side.
One final stand is all he asked for, to die nobly, as a knight should.
But Tommy was no knight, and Prime was not so merciful.
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So many people gathered in one place, so many tears being shed that are lost to the rain. He doesn’t know why they gathered, or what lay in the buried box beneath the stone. He had an idea though. One that brought him more fear than it should. So he watched from the sidelines as they came and cried.
Eventually, night fell upon the world, and everyone left the graveyard. Everyone but him.
It was quiet at night. The only sound was the trees limbs swaying, and the pitter patter of the rain hitting hard stone. For some it would be peaceful, but the ghostly boy felt nothing but unease when he looked at the grave the people left. He didn’t know his own name, nor the people that were there. But they felt oddly familiar.
Something was left on the grave, something he knew deep down was for him. A crimson envelope.
Looking at the envelope that lay barren on the stone filled him with hollow sadness, and curiosity.
Upon picking it up and opening it, he found a letter that read as such:
“And to Thomas (Tommy) Innes,
The child who we grew to love, may you rest easy down below. You brought smiles to everyone you met, and terror in your wake. A rowdy child that roamed and broke the halls of our estate, but the noise on such quiet nights was adored by all who walked the now soot ridden corridors. We wish to see you move on in peace, I wish to see you move on in peace.
I know your spirit is restless. You were always so clingy, though you refused to admit. You need to move on, I'm afraid you’ve forgotten who you were. I'm afraid I’m forgetting who you were.
You brought so much laughter and joy for us. I never would have imagined the heartbreak that would follow.
You brought my family together, piece by piece you rebuilt the puzzle we didn’t even realize we broke. You came to us at our worst and helped us reach our best. I wish we could've done more for you, or at least been there to comfort you when you left this mortal plane. But fate is cruel.
Say hello to my wife for me.
Forever your father,
Philza Craft”
Tommy. So that was his name. Something so simple, yet forgotten none the less.
Upon examining the envelope closer, another letter falls out. It’s written in another's handwriting, neater than the last.
“Dear Tommy,
My brother,
I weep for you, gone too soon, taken too quickly. Prime is not so merciful to even her most devout followers. Perhaps she needed your assistance once more. Perhaps your head was but a spoil of war for those who hate me and my family. You were my family.
I will avenge you.
I hope this letter finds your spirit, and in turn helps you to remember who you were and who you could've been.
We still had so much to learn from you, so much to learn about you. If anyone should’ve died that day I wish it were me. If I could turn back time and save you then, or rather maybe, no, actually. I would be, and still am selfish. If your fate would have been avoided by you not meeting us, I would not have the heart nor mind to change fate’s will, for your presence truly saved us. And now I fear a world without you, is a dark, grim place to live. A place of which none of us would have the will to survive.
One thing I would change was how quickly you were taken from us. I miss you.
I hope now you can rest with our Mother. I’m sure she would love to meet you, the perfect combination of the 3 of us and so much more. You are the last thing left in our Pandora's box, but fate had opened the lid once more.
You know, when I first met you, I was jealous. Can you believe that? Me, jealous of a child no more than 7, held up and praised by my own brother who would not even smile my way. It hurt, because even though you had just met you were closer than us. I regret it. I was so cold to you. But I owe you so much.
For even if we were arguing, at least I was speaking with my brother once more. Even if it was with you, we were hanging out, laughing like we used to. I was so mean to you, a child who had never done me wrong, who healed my family and in turn me. I wish I could take back some of the words I said.
I’ve never been good with speaking to others, words come easier on paper than out of my mouth, which is why I choose to write to you even now.
I hope these letters we write will help you remember who you are, who you were, so that you can move on. Im sorry.
Thanks for the memories Theseus. It's time to give them back to you.
Your brother,
Technoblade.”
Technoblade. Technoblade and Philza. Names he should be able to place but he can’t. How does he know them. How do they know him. They say they’re his brother and his father. But as much as he wants to, Tommy doesn’t know them.
‘It’s not fair’ The spirit whispers, voice lost drifting in the wind.
His figure flickers, and the letter falls from his hands, landing upside down on the wet stone.
Writing can be made out, though it’s hardly legible. It captures his full attention almost immediately.
“P.S. Wilbur refuses to write a letter yet. I think he’s still in denial. Don’t take it personally, death has always taken a worse toll on his mental state than it does to most.”
Wilbur. The name rings familiar in a way he can’t place. Brings in emotions he cannot seem to feel.
He wants to know. He wants to feel. But he can’t.
It truly isn’t fair for a young boy and his family to be separated from one another for reasons outside of his control. It’s not fair that these people still love him but he can’t even recognize himself.
But life isn’t fair, and Prime isn’t merciful.
So he runs. Runs as far as his spectral legs will take him, but its not far enough, as for when the sun begins to rise, he finds himself back where he started.
Alone, on the sideline, watching someone cry at his grave.