Actions

Work Header

How I broke my promises.

Summary:

This is a story/vent fic by me, a C!Tommy introject, meant to tell my brother how I broke our promises. This is meant for a specific Wilbur, but I welcome any other Wilburs who have the same memories.

Work Text:

Back again so soon? I like to let out some of my sorrows, yes, and it may have been months since I first started writing these, but I still can't tell if I want you to see these. Maybe one of these days my feelings will come to a decision, but today is not that day. Will, if you're reading this, it's not your fault. I did everything of my own free will.

Blood. That's about all I remember from exile. I remember one day Dream showing up as he did and blowing up my things as per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. But as I saw the sharp shards of my once shiny and well-crafted iron armors laying there in front of me, some memories seemed resurfaced.

One night I remember walking in on Techno holding his arm with an old tee-shirt, a bloody one at that. I was maybe 7 at the time, that making him 12. I saw him holding that arm, a blank expression on his face, with one of dad's shaving razors (which he merely had at his disposal, not to use them or anything) right next to him on his sheets.

While I may remember how sad he looked the day leading up to that event, I also remember how happy he was the next. All of his sadness seemed to disappear, even if it may have not been noticeable to anyone else, I remember it very vividly.

As I remembered past events, I got ideas in the process. Ideas that circled around to promises. Was it worth it breaking a promise that I made to my now dead brother? My emotions decided for me, and the blood won.

The first time was experimental at best, a small slice into my hand to test the waters. It hurt, but it a way it was a relief. It unburdened my consciousness, leaving me an escape from everything happening around me, as well as all of the things that happened in the past.

So I did it again. And again. And again, and again. I did it over and over until I couldn't distinguish my unscathed skin from the cuts. I didn't stop until there was a small puddle of blood at my feet.

I didn't feel anything in that moment. No happiness, no sorrow, nothing.

So after that, I did it again. Every day. Day By day my arms got filled. More and more I bled. I felt like I had control for a while.

Until I didn't.

I remembered Will excusing himself out of dinner, eating only the 5 required bites Phil made him eat before leaving the table. I also remembered one time when Techno fed us, Will leaving without eating anything that time. I remembered Techno going to Wills room. I remember the one sided yelling. But most importantly, I remembered the phrase "I just want control in my life".

Once again, I weighed my options, and once again my feelings chose for me.

So off I went.

The bandages piled upon my arm, and my clothes seemed to pile upon my body. I got thinner, and I passed out much more. I had never passed out due to blood loss alone, except for one time, but when I started starving myself, it happened seemingly too often.

Dream said he cared, but he never did anything for me. Ghostbur cared though. He didn't remember the promises, and I thought that was a good thing at the time. He bandaged my wounds, he fed me mushroom soup. He helped me throughout the hardest time in my life. He never asked questions, he just gave me tips on how to not get them infected next time. He helped more than I think he knows.

My promises were broken, and that was how. I don't expect anyone to read this, but I am doing decently right now, and the body is in no danger. Thank you for reading.

Regards,
Toms.

Series this work belongs to: