#tiny!tommy

Tommy was dozing against Dream’s neck when something large nudged against his side. He blinked blearily awake and startled at the sight of the massive, leather-clad finger taking up his view. He yelped, jerking upright, then glared as he realized that the human was poking him.

“Ey, watch it,” Tommy snapped, smacking a hand against the tip of the finger. Dream’s baritone chuckle rumbled underneath the borrower’s body as he drew his hand away, and his head turned away from Tommy.

“Take a look. We’re nearly there,” the larger blond pointed ahead, drawing Tommy’s gaze to the sprawling city at the distant top of a massive, sweeping hill, backdropped by the surrounding forest. Tommy gasped, and he leapt to his feet in excitement.

“Is that Manberg?” He exclaimed, leaning precariously forward to get a better view. Dream nodded and hastily brought his hand up to cup below Tommy’s perch when the teen wobbled, just in case he fell.

“Holy shit! I’ve never been outside Manberg! It’s huge,” Tommy grinned, snagging a hand against the front of Dream’s turtleneck to swing against the hollow of the human’s throat. Dream’s fingers twitched as his hand followed beneath the teen, but Tommy disregarded it, too infatuated with taking in every detail of Manberg that he could see.

Manberg was built on a huge, sprawling hill overlooking a large lake. The city structures spilled down the hillside and halfway onto the lake, built on a maze of piers and floating platforms over the water. Bobbing in the lake were small fishing boats, scattered between canals and colorful houses. Bright flags and banners, visible from even this distance, rippled cheerily in the breeze, and Tommy could even see the Whitehouse, up on the very top of the hill, and the Manberg flag flapping triumphantly in the breeze. Manberg’s flag was primarily black, the dark swathe only broken up by a red ‘X’ surrounded by a red semicircle, aligned against the flagpole.

Tommy drank the sight in, grinning ear to ear at the sight of the city. Finally...it had been a few weeks since he was taken, and he was glad that the whole misadventure was nearly over. He was ready to take the longest nap ever when he finally got home. Also a bath. He sorely needed one, to scrub off all of the accumulated dirt and grime and even blood still crusted on his skin.

“Hop down for a second?” Tommy could feel Dream’s voice rumble through his trachea, the vibrations so powerful that it nearly rattled the teen’s grip loose from the front of the turtleneck. The hand hovering just below Tommy drew closer until the edge was pressed against the top of Dream’s breastbone. 

“What’s up, big man?” Tommy asked curiously, swinging one of his legs out and releasing his hold on the fabric between his fingers, neatly stepping down into the human’s gloved palm in one clean motion. The leather dipped down slightly under his weight, but it probably wasn’t enough for Dream to notice.

“I can’t have you clinging to me while I swap.” Dream’s thumb, only shorter than Tommy by a few centimeters, moved next to the teen, and before Tommy could react, the hand was moving away from Dream’s body. Tommy grabbed the tip of the thumb automatically, grateful that Dream hadn’t left him to go sprawling onto his ass.

“While you what?” Tommy twisted to look at the human, brows furrowing at the dot-eyes of his smiling mask. Just below the edge of the mask, Dream’s lips curled into a small smirk, and his head canted to the side. The bitch didn’t bother to answer, instead lifting his hand to the crook of a tree just above the human’s head.

The palm underneath his feet tilted, prompting Tommy to hop off before he tumbled, and he twisted around to see Dream turning away from him.

“Wait, hey—Dream?” An irrational fear sparked in Tommy’s gut, that the human was about to leave him in a tree just in sight of Manberg. He wouldn’t, right? He told Tommy that he’d get him home.

It wasn’t all just an elaborate trick, right?

“Hold on,” Dream muttered, shrugging his hood off and—reaching for the buckles of his mask? Tommy gasped, eyes darting forwards as the human unclasped the two leather straps just above his ears and pulled the white disk away from his face. Tommy caught a glimpse of the concave inside of the mask, and saw that it was covered in all sorts of dormant and glowing enchantment runes. Before he could inspect it further, Dream dropped it into his satchel, out of view.

Slightly disappointed, but not enough to curb his curiosity, Tommy strained his gaze, leaning out as far as he could to try and catch a glimpse of the man’s face instead, but Dream kept his back to Tommy. All the teen could see was the swathe of dirty blond hair decorating the back of the man’s head.

Tommy did notice that there was a tiny braid woven into the human’s hair, on the left side of his nape. He briefly wondered about the odd hair-styling choice, before his attention was stolen by Dream reaching back up to pull something over his head. He adjusted it so that the straps rested over and under his ears, and cinched a joining buckle just above his nape. He then flipped his hood back up, concealing his blond hair, and twirled in place and with a flare of his cloak.

Tommy couldn’t help the surprised gasp that slipped past his lips when he caught the slightest glimmer of Dream’s eyes from under the shadow of his hood. Tommy’s own sky-blue eyes widened as he strained to see Dream’s, squinting past the strange haze that fuzzed underneath the man’s hood. It wasn’t until Dream stepped closer that Tommy could make out the pair of mirthful hazel eyes glittering up at him from over the edge of a dark blue facemask, which spanned over Dream’s cheekbones and the bridge of his nose and down under his jaw, efficiently concealing the remainder of the human’s face. Two round air vents were set on either side of the mask, but Tommy couldn’t see through them past their thick black mesh.

“How do I look?” Dream asked, and Tommy grinned sharply, squint deepening as he tried to get a better look at Dream’s face. From the little skin that Tommy could see, Dream looked...normal. He couldn’t see any reason why the human would be so insistent on wearing a mask.

...Maybe he had buck teeth, and he was embarrassed about it. The thought made Tommy’s grin grow wider, and he snorted.

“Like a dumbass. What'd you do that for?" Dream seemed to deflate at the teen’s words, shoulders slumping down as he reached a hand up to Tommy’s perch in the tree, flattening his palm out just below the teen’s feet. Tommy barely even hesitated, hurriedly leaping down into the human’s hand and carefully balancing on the slightly plush surface. A part of him was still afraid that the human was about to abandon him in the middle of the forest, and he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be left behind.

"People will recognize my mask, and I don't want any trouble,” Dream explained, waiting until Tommy seemed confident in his new stance before easily moving the inchling to his right shoulder. Tommy clambered up onto it, squinting at the new mask as he dropped down to sit over the crest of the human’s collarbone. It covered more of the underside of Dream’s jaw than the smiling mask did, and Tommy had to begrudgingly admit, it did look kind of cool. Not that he’d tell Dream that, of course.

“I usually swap to the facemask when I’m entering a town, or somewhere super populated,” the human continued, twisting away from the tree towards Manberg. “It’s enchanted with Distortion II, which basically makes it hard for people to make out my face from a distance, or makes it fuzzy from close up.” Dream began walking, keeping his pace smooth as he made his way down the path.

“Why don’t you just go without a mask?” Tommy asked, turning his gaze on the distant cityline. It was all so big...how were they going to find anyone in there? Even the bigfolk must get lost, trying to navigate such a huge city.

Dream fell silent, and the shoulder underneath Tommy stiffened. The teen pulled his gaze away from Manberg at the human’s motion, turning to look up at Dream with a confused twist to his brows. He could just barely see the corner of the larger blond’s eye, and Dream wasn’t looking at him.

“I’d...rather not talk about that,” he murmured, his long, blond lashes whisking the air as he blinked several times. Movement rolled through his shoulder, and Tommy looked down to see the human squeezing his left wrist with a white-knuckled grip.

Tommy bit his lip, watching the massive, cable-like tendons in the back of the human’s hand flex, then nodded. “Okay. I won’t pry, big man.”

“Thanks,” Dream muttered with a short jerk of his chin, and that was that.

It was only when they were nearly to Manberg’s gate that a new question bubbled up in Tommy’s mind, one that hadn’t occurred to him until just then.

“So,” he started, leaning forward to peer up towards Dream’s eyes. He still couldn’t see them well, much to his consternation, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. “Why are you going to Manberg?”

Dream’s head tilted, and one huge, hazel pupil slid down to peer down at Tommy. The teen jolted at the unexpected sight, and a small chuckle rumbled out from the human’s chest below him.

“I’ve just got some business to take care of. It’s nothing interesting, promise.” He assured, but Tommy wasn’t going to be satisfied with that answer. That was such a cop-out!

“Oh come on,” the inchling groaned, dramatically throwing himself backwards to sprawl over the arch of the human’s shoulder. He threw his arms up in the air and gestured meaningfully at Dream’s head, even though he knew the human could barely see it. “You know all about my reasons! It’s only fair that I know yours!”

Tommy could hear the grin in Dream’s voice when he next spoke, and the teen knew that the human was bullshitting him.

“What if all I’m doing is boring bigfolk stuff? What if I need to do my taxes?” He wheezed, and Tommy coughed out a startled laugh.

“What the fuck are taxes?” He blurted, and Dream’s shoulder shook as he tried and failed to hold in his amusement. 

“Taxes are bullshit, that’s what they are,” he snorted. “That’s why I don’t pay them.” The human’s rolling stride slowed, suddenly, and the muscles underneath Tommy’s back grew a little more stiff.

“We’re here. Can you keep yourself hidden?” Dream asked suddenly. Tommy sat up to see Manberg’s huge wooden gate, set into a cobbled stone wall, ahead of them. On either side of the gate were two guards, dressed in standard iron armor and equipped with an iron sword each. Tommy couldn't see their faces past the iron helmets they wore, but he swore that he felt their eyes on him.

“You should be able to hide in my hood,” the blond offered in a low voice, leaning his head forward slightly. “You’ll be out of sight, and it’s better than my pocket, if you don’t want to hide there.”

“Fuck no,” Tommy agreed, stepping over to eye the space between the back of the human’s neck and the hood. The bottom of the hood was loosely cinched against the base of Dream’s neck, so as long as Tommy was careful, he wouldn’t fall down the back of Dream’s cloak, but it was dark. It was darker than Dream’s pocket, somehow, and Tommy didn’t like it.

He turned instead to eye the back of the human’s neck, biting at his lip as he contemplated what might just be another option. With the hood beside him, he’d have a safety net if he fell, but it didn’t look like it would be an easy climb back up to the shoulder. The back of Dream’s neck was also sheer, so Tommy would probably have to use the human’s hair and the fabric of his collar as handholds to keep from tumbling. 

He sidled closer, and his eyes caught on the indistinct shape of the braid he had spotted earlier. He slipped his fingers into the small, woven gaps between the fibres of the black fabric beside him and cocked his head, thinking. 

It was just long enough that Tommy could probably cling to it, if he made the leap to the other side of the human’s expansive shoulders. It looked like it would be more secure than just hanging to Dream’s collar, and it would be loads better than just sitting uselessly in the dark of the human’s hood. 

Tommy would also still be able to see what was going on, if he was hanging off of the braid.

Jerking a short nod to himself as he made his decision, Tommy braced his legs, took a deep breath, then leapt, reaching out for the thick rope of hair. His hands met the braid and he wrapped his fingers around it, digging them into the soft strands and kicking against the wall of fabric beside him to scramble up a little higher. He braced his feet against the back of Dream’s neck, tangling his fingers into the braid, then let himself relax with a small sigh of relief.

Tommy glanced down again at the dark recesses of the hood before shuffling sideways until he could lean over the side of the human’s neck and carefully peer at the outside world. Dream was talking to the guards, voice affable as he told them that he was, “Just passing through,” and it wasn’t long before he was being allowed through the gate.

Tommy grinned, adjusting his grip on the braid, and let out a tiny cheer. They made it in!

Past the gate was an open square of cobbled road, bustling with people and decorated with Manberg banners and colorful streamers and flags. Merchant stalls and booths dotted the edges of the square, and further on down the street, the buildings began to close in, narrowing around the winding road that would eventually lead to the Whitehouse. Tommy’s eyes were wide as he took in the sights, drinking in every sight as Dream cut through the crowd.

They parted like water for Dream, some eyeing him with caution, others avoiding his gaze completely. Tommy wondered if it was the human’s height that drove them off, or if Dream was just that intimidating to other bigfolk. He certainly was for smallfolk like Tommy, that was for sure.

A bounty board caught Tommy’s wandering gaze as Dream walked, and his brows furrowed as he looked it over. Plastered on the board were a variety of parchments, depicting various criminals and runaways that needed to be killed or brought in to face the law. There were at least a dozen bounties, but the highest ones were what caught Tommy’s eye, pinned at the very top of the board. 

At the very top of the poster was a pair of familiarly wicked tusks and small, fierce eyes. Something in Tommy’s chest twisted painfully, and he turned his gaze away with a frown, unwilling to look at it for long. 

‘The Blade,’ the poster said. ‘Wanted; Alive, for crimes against Manberg.’

To the far left of the board was a large poster depicting what looked like two brothers, side by side, sketched out in black ink. The shorter one on the left looked older, stubbled chin sharp as he smirked off of the page. A baggy cloak was thrown over armored shoulders, clasped with what looked like some kind of coin. On the right was a drawing of a tall teen, glowering darkly at whoever had done the sketch from underneath his hood. He had armor plated over his shoulders, as well as a chestplate hooked over his hoodie.

Below their picture were the words, ‘The Mercenary Brothers. Wanted; Dead or Alive, traitors to Manberg,’ but it was hard to make out past the thick strokes of ink scribbling it out. Instead, written under the older brother were the words, ‘The White Bandit,’ and under the younger, ‘King of Battleblc✓|’ but the end was streaked, as if whoever was writing it had to rush off at the last second.

Next to the brothers’ poster was a smaller, crudely drawn poster, depicting a rough doodle of a demon. He had two sharp horns poking out near his forehead, and his skin seemed to be two-toned, the right side of his body shaded in to be darker than the left. His sketchy hair was the same, as well as the blocky hood slumped over his shoulders.

‘The Unc∆tch∆bl3 Thi3f.’ It said. ‘W∆nt3b; D3∆b or ∆liv3, stol3 sup3r import∆nt stuff.’ Some of the letters were backwards, or straight up wrong.

What the hell? Tommy’s face screwed up in confusion, but his attention was quickly stolen when he caught sight of the next poster, and an affronted gasp erupted out of his throat.

"Is–is that a fucking wanted poster?!" Tommy shrilled, unlatching one hand from the braid to point hysterically at the sheet of parchment nailed to the wall. It was a sketch of Dream, hood up and smiley mask covering his face, with the words; ‘The Taken. Wanted; Dead, for crimes against Manberg,’ scrawled neatly below the image. Beneath that was the price of the bounty, which, while less than The Blade’s bounty, was still thirty stacks of diamonds. Tommy wasn’t too sure about monetary amounts, but even he knew that thirty stacks was a lot of diamonds.

"Well, you rob a couple of rich assholes, and suddenly you're the bane of the server." Dream carefully shrugged, blaise. "It's no big deal. It wasn't like they were using the money anyway."

Tommy settled a bit at the human's words. Right. Dream wasn't an actual criminal. How could he be? He was too nice. A different, smaller part of his mind pointed out that Dream had killed at least six people since Tommy had met him, but…Tommy pushed that thought away. That was just self-defense. Dream wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt somebody. Right…?

“So where do you think your friend is gonna be?” The human butted in suddenly, tilting his head slightly. The braid swung with the movement, and Tommy yelped, scrambling to wrap his knees around it and brace his feet against the tie that kept it secure.

Dream seemed to wince, letting out a soft apology as Tommy regained his grip. Tommy brushed it off, pursing his lips as he began to think.

“Well, he was always talking about the library and the archives. Like, he’d be messing around with bigfolk ‘blue-prints.’ I think he might live somewhere around there, so that’s a good place to start.” Tommy was honestly surprised that Tubbo liked the bigfolks’ books so much. Most smallfolk couldn't read or write in the bigfolks’ language, because they had their own written script that they used. Tommy himself was lucky to have had the opportunity to learn the bigfolks' written language when he did. He still wasn’t the fastest reader, but he could get by when he needed to.

Tommy had visited Manberg’s library a few times, but he never really thought it was worth it. It was full of dusty, boring books that he couldn’t even move or open or anything, and he would much rather be exploring bigfolk buildings or annoying his friends.

Borrowers in Manberg had small, underground tunnels that connected between most of the bigfolks’ buildings, so that they could easily travel and visit friends, family, or even find a new home, if that became necessary. They all knew how dangerous it was to travel topside, especially in a city full of bigfolk, so they figured out a way to keep in contact with each other without having to risk exposure.

That had been Tommy’s mistake. He’d wanted to explore the bigfolks’ world, and, well, look where that had gotten him.

…As much as Tommy trusted Dream, he wasn’t about to tell him about the tunnel system. It wasn’t just his secret to tell. Every inchling in Manberg used them, and Tommy wasn’t about to jeopardize their safety like that.

He also didn’t want to go back just yet. He never had the opportunity to see the bigfolks’ world, especially not at their level, and he was savoring it. There was just so much to see!

“Can we—I mean, uh…” Tommy trailed off, swallowing nervously before pushing past it with a determined huff. Dream had never turned any of his requests down before, and he doubted that the human was about to start now. “Can we—keeplookingaroundforabit?” He asked in a rush, hands tightening around the human’s braid.

Dream’s body relaxed, and Tommy could hear the soft smile in his voice when he said, “Of course.” 

So they spent the next few hours sightseeing through the city, wandering the busy streets and the bustling market, and even the residential district, pointing out interesting sights to each other as the time went by. 

The market was fun. Tommy hadn’t had the opportunity to explore it during the day, and watching the bigfolk haggle over various wares was interesting.

Tommy pointed out a few of the huge, floating air balloons tethered throughout the city, so they wandered until they found the anchor of one of the balloons. Tommy had wanted to climb the rope all the way to the top of the air balloon, but Dream had told him that it would be the quickest way to be caught by Manberg’s guard. 

They found a bakery at one point, and Tommy got to pick out a sugary monstrosity for them to share. It wasn't the first time he'd had a warm-baked pastry, but something about this one tasted sweeter. Like…happieness.

Dream brought them to the docks during the afternoon, when some of the fishing boats were coming back with their haul. They go to watch as nets of fish were unloaded and processed

Eventually, Tommy decided it was time that they should make their way to the library so he could try and find Tubbo. It didn’t take long for Dream to find it through the twisting streets, and soon the huge building loomed into view.

Tommy caught sight of a familiar shape pacing the library steps, and he grinned, nearly calling out before he choked to a stop, alarm bells clattering through his skull as he registered that something was very, very wrong.

The person he was looking at was bigfolk-sized.

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

Tubbo...?

Tommy froze when a disheveled, familiar human burst out in front of them from the brush lining the edge of the game trail they had been following for the past few hours. His jaw dropped in horror, and a quiet whimper of fear wormed its way from his throat. Awful memories bubbled up from the depths of his mind, of viciously sharp threats and violently shaken cages, and he found his body instinctively flattening against the curve of Dream's neck.

His hands fumbled for the hilt of the sword that Dream had given him a few days ago, but they were trembling too much to get a proper grasp on the leather-wrapped handle. His breath shortened considerably, and it felt like all he could see was the human’s massive face, cruel grin and bright eyes drawing in Tommy’s vision like an inescapable whirlpool.

The man blocking their path had been the cruelest of Tommy's original kidnappers, often going out of his way to torment the miniature teenager, be it by violently shaking and slamming the cage Tommy had been trapped in, or by telling the inchling tales about what would happen to him after he was finally sold. The man had even threatened to rip one of Tommy’s arms off after the teen had mouthed off at the human, even going so far as to snag the blond's right arm through the bars of the cage before one of the others had stopped him.

His reasoning had been that Tommy wouldn't need all of his limbs, not when he'd most likely be ground up and used to make a potion.

“D-Dream,” he choked out, fingers abandoning his sword to tangle between the threads of the blond's turtleneck. His hands were shaking so badly that he almost couldn't get a grip on the fabric, and his knees suddenly felt weak and unsteady. He gasped, attempting to force his breath to catch in a regular rhythm, but it was as if fingers were cinched around his chest, crushing and squeezing and he. Couldn’t. Breathe.

“I’m going to present your skull to the President myself,” the man hissed out harshly, viciously, eyes wide and furious as he glared at Dream. His gaze passed over Tommy, unable to see him under the shadow of the hood, which Tommy was immensely thankful for. His ears had begun to ring, a shrill, piercing note that drowned out the sounds around him as his chest heaved, chasing after air that wouldn't fill his lungs.

The shoulder underneath his feet stiffened as Dream stilled, massive hand drifting down to the sword slung at his hip. The human’s entire body grew tense, and Tommy could feel Dream’s posture shift as he clung to the blond’s neck.

His previous captor pulled a wickedly sharp double-headed axe from a loop on his belt, and then he lunged, rearing his arm back to plant the axe into Dream’s chest. Tommy couldn’t help the tiny scream that ekked through his lips as the razor-sharp blades flashed towards them, and he very nearly stumbled backwards off of Dream's shoulder.

A colossal hand appeared in front of Tommy, and before the teen could react, massive fingers were curling around his waist and plucking him away from his perch. Tommy yelped in surprise, scrambling to grab onto the side of one huge finger as the hand moved downward, sliding neatly underneath the collar of Dream’s green cloak and dragging the small teen with it.

Tommy’s world was enveloped with a dark green hue as he was unceremoniously dropped into what felt like a massive hammock. The hand disappeared, and then everything around him moved. Tommy was left scrambling for balance, pressing his hands and knees against what felt like padded walls as the world lurched sideways. He heard the sound of the other human shouting, but he couldn’t make out the words over the rhythmic pounding of Dream’s chest.

“Fat chance,” he heard Dream snarl, and then an ear-piercing clang rang out, loud even through the fabric of Dream’s cloak. The miniature blond winced, hands flying away from the soft walls to clap over his ears. He sank down to curl in the curve of the fabric below him, body tense as the ringing in his ears subsided.

Despite the sounds of the surely vicious fight outside, and the fact that Tommy was in the pocket of a human as he jolted and twisted, he felt…surprisingly stable, for how tumultuous the outside world was. Whatever he was in was secure enough to keep him stable as the two humans clashed in a colossal battle. Between the soft, padded walls on either side of his body and the huge, heavy ba-bump of Dream's heartbeat, Tommy felt shockingly comfortable.

Is this…an armored pocket? Tommy rapped lightly against the wall of what seemed to be padded metal pressing at his side. It seemed to be shaped to the pocket, and the edges curled in to form a sort of concave shield against the broad chest beside him.

The walls were pressed in close, but it wasn’t so much that it made Tommy feel like he was being restrained. The armored wall had give when he pushed against it, and he had enough room to stand up if he wanted. It was a little too dark for his liking, and the air was stuffy enough to make his breath hitch, but otherwise? Tommy didn’t feel the overwhelming need to escape before he got trapped forever.

There was a wet, slick sound outside, and then a heavy thud, before everything went quiet. The heaving of the massive chest beside him slowed its pace, and Tommy ventured a hesitant, “Dream?”

Fabric rustled, and something tapped on the outside of the pocket, once, twice, then Dream’s voice rumbled out, low and breathless. “You okay?” He panted. Despite the fact that the human’s voice was dropped down to a shaky whisper, it still rumbled through the small space Tommy was in, nearly shaking him in place through the sheer strength of it. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to explain. You’re safe in there.”

Tommy huffed a slow breath as he worked to get control of his shaking hands. Seeing that human…it brought back all sorts of ugly memories, ones that Tommy would much rather forget. He didn’t want to think about his kidnappers. He didn’t want to think of the long sleepless nights, of the dry, painful rasp of his throat, of the twisting, snarling hunger that clawed gouges through his torso nearly the whole duration of his captivity.

He didn’t want to think of how callously the humans spoke of killing him, as if his life wasn’t worth any more than the sticks they used to light their fires.

“What the hell, Dream?” Tommy snapped in lieu of an answer, kicking angrily at the dark green wall against Dream’s chest. It barely even budged, and that made Tommy feel even more angry and indignant. “I thought you said they were all gone!”

He felt the fabric around him tilt upwards, and he could only surmise that Dream had shrugged. An apologetic hum rumbled from the wall beside him, and the fabric shifted again, spilling light down from way over Tommy’s head. “That one...got away. Sorry.”

A wall of dark leather blocked out the light as a cluster of fingers descended into the pocket, nearly taking up the entirety of the space. Tommy scrambled to his feet, backing away from the pillaresque digits as they came to a stop directly in front of him, curling slightly at the tips.

“Hop on?” Dream’s voice asked, and Tommy debated for half a second before climbing onto the concave slope the fingers made. He was eager to get out of the pocket, an ever present, niggling fear in the back of his mind telling him that he was going to get trapped and taken away screaming- again.

"What the fuck’s up with the pocket?" Tommy yowled, fingers latching onto small creases in the ridges of Dream’s glove as the colossal hand began to rise. The borrower re-adjusted his footing over the tips of Dream’s crooked fingers, eyes darting nervously down as he emerged into the light and saw the distant tops of the human’s boots.

"Well, I gotta keep you little guys safe somehow, don't I?" Dream chuckled, halting his hand’s ascent near his right shoulder and gradually leveling it out until it was platformed. Tommy wobbled slightly as he regained his balance, flaring his arms out as he gingerly stepped over the pliable palm. “I can’t fight with you on my shoulder, and you might get squished in a regular pocket. This way, I know that you’ll be safe.”

Tommy supposed that did make sense, but...that didn’t mean that he had to like it. A small scowl crossed his face as something occurred to him while he made the wide step onto Dream’s shoulder. This was the second person that he’d seen Dream kill, not counting the men that had originally taken Tommy. What kind of man was the blond, that he could kill someone without batting an eye?

“Why do people keep attacking you?” He asked, sidling over to lean against the human’s neck. Tommy’s heart was still pounding, and his hands still faintly trembled. He shot them a disapproving glare and tucked them against his chest, biting his lip.

“It’s…part of the reason I’m taking so long to get to Manberg. I’m a very popular guy, and there are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on me.”

“Oh. why?”

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Dream’s head tilted just enough that the edge of his mask glinted in the sunlight, and the tone of his voice flatlined. It wasn’t by much, but it was enough that Tommy noticed. He swallowed gingerly, taking the hint for what it was, and backed off.

“What happened to the—the other guy?” Tommy asked abruptly, tugging his eyes away from the human’s jawline and instead turned to look out at the path far below him. He faltered, then, not even hearing Dream’s voice as his gaze latched onto the answer to his question.

“W-where's his head?!” Tommy all but screamed, the shock finally catching up enough to send him staggering backwards, nearly over the back of the human’s shoulder. He yelped again, lunging to grab the black turtleneck, and pulled himself back upright. He caught sight of the body again, and he slammed his eyes shut, biting back a whimper and sliding down into a more stable crouch against Dream’s neck.

If Dream could do that to a fully grown, fully trained human, then what could he do to Tommy? It was an unrealistic thought, Tommy knew, because Dream had proven that he wouldn't hurt the teen, but it was one that kept intruding on Tommy’s mind.

“Over there,” Dream intoned, and Tommy felt a massive sense of vertigo as the blond seemed to crouch.

There was a rustling sound, and then; “I don't know how they keep making these things, but it sure is annoying,” Dream murmured. Dream’s voice reverberated through the side of his neck, and, despite himself, Tommy’s curiosity won out over his fear. Cautiously, he cracked an eye open, carefully keeping his line-of-sight high above the ground.

The bright glint of glass shined, and Tommy opened his other eye to look more closely at what Dream held in his gloved hands.

“A compass?” Tommy asked weakly, leaning forward against Dream’s neck. He strictly kept his gaze on the shining, silvery disk, horribly aware of the headless corpse more than a dozen inches below his view.

“A tracking compass,” Dream explained. He brought it closer to his shoulder, tilting it so that Tommy could see the needle through the glass face. “They’re enchanted to point at specific things, like places, items—or people you want to find.” He twisted it, and Tommy watched as the red half of the needle stayed doggedly pointed at the human’s chest, no matter how he turned it.

“Is that...another thing I’m not supposed to worry about, Dream?” Tommy hesitantly asked, flicking his gaze up at the human’s stubbled jawline. Dream made an indiscernible humming sound and leaned forward, lifting something else from the body.

“This is a nice axe,” he murmured, avoiding the question and reaching out to brush a fingertip against one of the blades. The axe was double-headed, and the haft looked to be about as long as Dream’s arm. He twirled it experimentally, humming in satisfaction at the weight, then moved to hook it to his belt. Tommy kept his grip tight on the fibers of the turtleneck, eyes following the silvery axe head as it sliced through the air.

“Alright,” Dream groaned, clapping his hands on his knees straightening up to his full height. “I think it’s time we got a move on. At the rate we’re going...we should get to Manberg in the next day or so.”

“Okay.” Tommy agreed, gingerly lowering himself down to sit on the human’s shoulder. He slung his legs over the huge, nearly ledge-esque collarbone, and tried not to think about the decapitated corpse behind them. 

Or of Dream’s kill count…

Taglist:

The silence in the cave stretched long and sharp. Tommy didn’t dare move until the giant finally shifted—slow, heavy, bones cracking like trees in winter.Techno stood up.The sheer size of him made Tommy’s stomach twist, but the giant didn’t look his way. Instead he muttered something low under his breath—too quiet to make out.

Then, without a second word, he stepped toward the cave mouth. Snow crunched under his boots, and the cold wind spilled in around him

The first thing Tommy noticed when he reached the entrance of the cave was how different the world looked now. The storm was gone. The forest lay under a thick, untouched blanket of snow, glowing gold and blue under the weak morning sun. Everything sparkled. Everything looked fragile, frozen, quiet. Too quiet.

And the silence didn’t feel peaceful. It felt like the calm after something violent. The ground outside was wet, slushy in places, icy in others. Water dripped steadily from branches, forming tiny beads that glittered before falling—soft plip… plip… plip. His shoes sank half an inch into the snow with every step. His socks were going to be soaked in minutes. But he didn’t care. He pulled the cloak from around himself, dropped it on the cave floor, and took a trembling breath.

Techno was disappearing between the trees, Huge. Unnatural. Terrifying. That was his moment. Tommy bolted. The cold stabbed him instantly—like running into a wall of knives. His breath puffed out in white clouds. His heart hammered so hard it felt like it rattled his ribs. Behind him, the cave shrank into shadow.He pushed harder, legs burning as he sprinted across the open clearing and into the treeline. Snow slapped against his shins. His shoes slipped, skidded, caught again. Branches scratched his face as he shoved deeper into the trees. The forest swallowed him whole. He didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop. His lungs ached. His teeth chattered. His fingers burned under his gloves. Snow clung to everything, turning the world into a pale labyrinth. The early light made the fog between the trunks glow faintly, making it hard to tell where the forest ended and the sky began. The ground dipped suddenly. Tommy stumbled, nearly faceplanting into a mound of wet snow, catching himself on a frozen log. He gasped for breath, chest heaving, and glanced back—Nothing but white. No cave. No giant. Just trees.

He let out a breathless laugh. Half-hysterical. Half-triumphant.

“I did it…” he whispered. “I actually— I’m out.”

He leaned against the log, legs trembling. His socks were soaked. His jeans were wet halfway up his calves. The cold hit him hard now that adrenaline wasn’t shoving him forward.He needed to find a road. A sign. A path. Anything.

He turned—and froze. Something moved between the trunks. A shape. Low at first—then rising. Tall. Too tall. Thin limbs stretched unnaturally long, wet snow dripping off them like melting wax. Its head twitched sharply to the side. Then the other. Then back again. And then—clickclick-click-click

The sound crawled under Tommy’s skin, sharp and insect-like. His breath stopped. The creature lifted its head—revealing six pale, glassy eyes blinking out of sync. They fixed on him instantly. Tommy’s bones went cold. The creature inhaled, chest expanding in jagged, shuddering motions. Snow fell from its shoulders in thin sheets. Then—It moved. Not walked. Not ran. It jerked toward him, body snapping forward like a puppet pulled on strings.

Tommy’s scream tore out of him raw and broken. He turned and ran. Branches whipped his face. Snow exploded under his feet. His shoes slipped on slush, sending him sprawling once, twice, before he caught himself and kept sprinting .The clicking grew louder. Faster. Closer.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He just ran. The forest blurred around him, shifting and twisting as panic fueled his legs. The clearing appeared ahead—white, bright, blinding after the shadows of the pine trees. Tommy burst out of the treeline with a choked sob. And crashed straight into a wall of shadow. Techno. The giant spun halfway, boots grinding into the snow. His eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous, then instantly locked onto the creature lunging toward the light. Tommy stumbled behind him, collapsing to his knees in the snow. His breath came in ragged sobs.

Techno's POV:

The creature vanished between the trees when it saw a bigger predator and with a sharp, guttural hiss, the bushes snapping shut in its wake.Techno straightened to his full height, shadows bending around him as the forest fell deathly quiet again.

“…brilliant,” he muttered, voice rumbling through the damp morning air.

“Can’t leave him alone for an hour.”

He turned—and there Tommy was. Not running. Not yelling. Not even looking up. The boy sat hunched at the base of a pine, soaked from the knees down, muddy, shaking so hard Techno could see it from meters away. His breath came in shallow, uneven pulls—too fast, too thin. Panic. And for a moment, Techno just stared. This stubborn little brat who had spent the last twelve hours swearing he didn’t need anyone… reduced to a trembling shape in the grass.

"…kid.”

Nothing. Techno’s brows dipped. Concern—annoyingly—tugged at him like a hook in his ribs.He crouched, the ground trembling softly under his weight. Even crouched, he towered over Tommy like a cliff.

“Tommy,” he said again, quieter. “It’s gone.”

Still no reaction. Techno exhaled through his nose, irritated at the fear in the boy’s eyes—fear that wasn’t meant for him, but hurt in a way he didn’t want to unpack.

“Alright. C’mere.” He slid one massive hand under Tommy—gently, carefully. The kid jolted, a sharp flinch, fingers clawing at the air like he didn’t know what was touching him. then Tommy sagged. Exhaustion, shock, or trust—Techno couldn’t tell. He lifted him easily, cradling Tommy against his palm and forearm, making sure the boy was steadied with his thumb so he wouldn’t slip. Tommy curled instinctively into the warmth, breathing ragged against Techno’s cloak.

“You really thought sprinting into a forest at dawn was a solid plan?”

A weak noise came from the kid—half protest, half shiver. Techno started walking, long strides eating the muddy path. The forest looked different from his height—safer, somehow—but he kept glancing down anyway.

Water dripped from branches in slow, uneven taps, and the ground sucked at Techno’s boots with every step. Mist curled low across the roots, and the air carried that sharp metallic cold that wormed its way into bone.He adjusted his grip on the kid. Tommy weighed almost nothing. Pure skin and trembling. The boy’s soaked clothes clung to Techno’s fingers, and every jolt of the giant’s steps made another shiver bolt through his small body.

“Hold on,”

Techno muttered. His voice rumbled through his chest and into the boy’s ribs. Tommy didn’t answer. Didn’t protest. Techno pushed a branch aside with his free hand, scanning the shadows. That creature that had cornered Tommy—whatever it was—it had fled fast.

But others might not.The kid made a tiny sound. Almost a whimper. It punched straight through Techno’s ribs in a way he didn’t appreciate.He looked down. Tommy’s eyes were half-lidded, lashes wet, breath shaky like the cold had carved its claws into his lungs. His face was blotchy from panic, his hair plastered to his forehead. A mess.Techno clicked his tongue.

“You’re not dying on me,”

he said flatly. Tommy blinked up at him—slow, disoriented—like he wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a hallucination.

The boy was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Cold. Exhausted. Panicked. Techno’s first thought: he couldn’t let him fall. Not now. Not here. The forest was alive with hazards—the slick mud, broken branches, predators too small to notice him, but not too small to notice Tommy. His hands weighed the options: Carry him in his arms? Could do, but the boy was barely conscious and squirmed violently. One slip, one stumble on the wet forest floor, and it could be fatal. Wrap him in his cloak? Dry enough? Not a chance. The storm had soaked it through. His teeth ground together. There was only one choice left. One instinctual, fast, protective option. Not to eat him. Gods no.Just… containment. Warmth. Safety. The space inside his mouth was warm and protected from the wind. He could feel every twitch, every shiver. He could respond instantly if the boy panicked.He crouched, voice low:

"Hold still. Trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

The kid screamed anyway. Naturally. Panic like that was pure instinct. And he flinched so violently, Techno could feel it reverberate through his jaw. He adjusted, careful, slow, methodical, making sure the boy’s head wasn’t pressed too far back, making sure his teeth only framed him like a cradle. Once the boy was in place, trembling, Techno exhaled gently, keeping his lips soft, moving in rhythm with Tommy’s breaths. The warmth flooded him, but he stayed still, rigid, ready to release the boy the instant he showed real panic or discomfort. He could feel the fear, yes. The confusion. The total lack of understanding. But it would pass.

Tommy POV:

The world tilted. One moment he was shaking in the giant’s hand, cold slicing through his bones like knives—and the next, Techno lifted him higher. Too high. Toward his face.Toward his mouth.

"No— no, wait—!”

Tommy’s voice cracked, coming out too thin, too scared. But Techno didn’t stop. The giant’s breath washed over him—warm, humid, overwhelming. Tommy froze completely, his heartbeat punching so hard it hurt.Then Techno’s jaws parted. Tommy saw everything at once: Massive teeth. Darkness. Heat. A space too big and too close. And then—Tommy was pushed forward. He didn’t even feel the touch, not really—just warmth swallowing the air around him as Techno’s mouth closed around him.

A strange, soft pressure, like being held between cushions, not bitten. But his brain didn’t understand that. He screamed. Raw. Loud. His hands clawed at anything—Techno’s lip, his teeth, his tongue, slipping and sliding because everything was slick and warm and terrifying. He thrashed, boots kicking uselessly at the giant’s lower teeth.

“LET ME OUT—LET ME OUT—PLEASE—!”

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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“Hey Wilbur, you know how Techno dressed up as the Easter bunny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Well, I’ve been thinking. If the Easter Bunny isn’t real, and the tooth fairy and you know basically most fairy tale creatures, then that means Santa Claus isn’t real either.” 

Tommy felt Wilbur stiffen at this, his pseudo brother soon cupping him in both hands as he slid up to be sitting cross legged and able to see the borrower better. 

“Well I guess so, but I mean Borrowers are considered fairy tales and yet you exist so that doesn’t mean Santa Claus isn’t real.”

Tommy crossed his arms raising a brow. “Wilbur, I know you dressed up as Santa. You don’t have to keep pretending about it.” 

“Tommy, I swear I didn’t do that.” Wilbur defended. “Why would I dress up? That’s so childish and whack and-” 

One look at Tommy was proof enough the blonde wasn’t buying it. Wilbur didn’t want to admit it but it was clear the boy he once knew was growing up and childish things like Santa Claus  were becoming a thing of the past- as much as he hated to admit it.

“Okay yes, it was me dressed as Santa Claus.” Wilbur admitted somberly moving to let Tommy down on his night stand. “How long have you known?” 

“Since we put out the Christmas decorations, but I think subconsciously I’ve known longer than that considering you never like to wear Santa hats and rejected the idea of dressing up everytime I asked.” 

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” he replied, eyes downcast fiddling with his finger nails. “You don’t hate me right?”

“Hate you?” Tommy quirked a brow and to Wilbur’s surprise suddenly burst out laughing. “Wilbur, you saved me. I don’t know what I would have done had you revealed yourself to not be Santa. I was terrified of you!”

Wilbur deflated at that, guilt taking over. “Yeah, sorry about that. Again.” The Bean replied solemnly. Tommy stopped laughing noticing this and sighed before jumping off the nightstand and back onto the bed, making their way down to rest a hand on the older’s knee.

“Wilbur, I know you never meant to hurt me. I understand that now. Heck you dressing up is the only reason I ever gave talking to you a second chance.” 

“What do you mean?” Wilbur asked as Tommy hoisted himself up onto the man's knee.

“Well, kid me never intended to talk to any Beans ever. I only spoke to Santa because I saw a Television program talking about how he gave kids presents because I was desperate.” Tommy smiled as he recalled the past. 

“Santa gave me exactly what I needed in the moment, yes, but you gave me the push I needed to give speaking to you a chance. Remember prior to meeting you, I’d been living alone for awhile and never knew how lonely I’d been till after speaking to someone. “

The boy looked up to meet the Beans gaze, guilt and concern etched all across the olders’ face. 

“But meeting you changed that. Giving talking to you a shot was the best decision I ever made and now I’m living better than I could have ever dreamed and that’s not even the best part.” 

“What’s the best part?” Wilbur asked and Tommy smiled. 

“I gained a brother.” 

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Probably could have made this longer but that's all I wrote and I can't see myself adding more lol. Merry Christmas everyone <3

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Borrowers.

Tiny scavengers that take human things for survival.

Well, that’s what all the articles say.

Wilbur leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped from the unhealthy way he’d been hunched over his computer for the last few hours, but he hardly noticed as he scrolled the internet.

“Yet another useless article that tells me nothing about how to actually coax one out.” He sighed dejectedly.

Now you are absolutely right, he should be studying right now while at University and not googling Borrowers again for the millionth time, but it’s not like he wanted to risk doing it at home. No way was he going to jeopardise having Tommy leave.

It had been a few weeks since Wilbur had met the young boy that fateful Christmas Eve and he was positive they hadn’t left. Not when he was now able to recognise the tell tale signs of a scavenger living in his walls. But the man was getting a tad testy about not being able to speak to them in person. 

Over and over Wilbur had to tell himself that Tommy trusted Santa Claus, not him. If they ever got a tiny hint that he knew of their existence, then that would be it and the boy would be gone. If a Borrower was seen, the rule they set for themselves was they had to leave no matter the circumstances. Staying after being seen was an absolute no no and never worth the risk. The articles had been very extensive on that point.

His other option to try and unknowingly lure the boy out wasn’t going very well either. Every idea seemed either too obvious, or too dangerous to attempt. (No he definitely did not consider using a mouse trap…)

Tommy was smart enough to avoid those anyway.

But he couldn’t ignore the growing urge to speak to them despite how foolish it would be to do so. It’s not like he could just walk straight up to Tommy’s wall and be like: “Hi I’m Wilbur but you already know that and I know you’re living in my walls. Sorry for ruining your house and kidnapping you haha.”

…

Yeah that would definitely send Tommy packing.

So like anyone does when they’ve run out of ideas, Wilbur rushed to the internet and started doing his research.

Borrowers- who are they, and how to befriend one.

Surprisingly, it seemed there were definitely people who knew about them. The few articles proof enough; but no one seemed to know anything further or wanted to speak up about how they knew what they did. The few authors or bloggers he’d emailed ended up ghosting him when asked to elaborate or rudely shut him down (looking at you PandasCanPVP) and though it did make sense they didn’t answer his questions; protect the borrowers and their code etc, it was still damn frustrating that no one was open to helping him. 

He’d at least done a few things to aid Tommy a bit more. He left more food out for longer than required and on the lower shelves so the blonde didn’t have to go to such lengths for a meal, and he’d creatively turned an unused draw into a junk draw and filled it with a bunch of mismatched items with multiples of each so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about him getting suspicious. (He definitely did not smile when he counted 6 paper clips instead of 7)

But there wasn’t really anything more he could do in terms of coaxing Tommy out. Wilbur just had to hope that either his message as Santa got through to him, or that he’d catch sight of Tommy one day and have an opportunity to acknowledge his existence. He hoped for the first of the two, but he’d take either to just make progress with the boy at all.

At least he had peace of mind they were doing better now then they had been before Christmas Eve. Niki was an absolute legend for helping him make all those tiny gifts. So yes he owed Nicki a massive favour when he absolutely bamboozled her for showing up outside her front door in the middle of the night and begged her for help to make tiny clothes for Tommy without explaining what for and why he needed them done that night. And yes he’d had to suck it up Christmas Day when he was tired as hell from working through the night to do it, but not for a second did Wilbur regret it when he knew how happy those gifts would have made the Borrower child.

It took everything in him not to tell his family about the encounter too, not wanting to risk the blonde hearing him, but it was for the best. One day it was going to pay off and then he could properly apologise for what he had done and get Tommy home.

Even if it meant he’d never really get to know the little guy, he would do it!

And that was a promise.

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This Wilbur guy was weird.

Did he have any reasons to back that statement up? 

NOPE! 

Wilbur was just decidedly a wrong-un and that was a good enough reason for him to accept.

Tommy had been finding his time in Wilbur’s walls a lot more pleasant now that he had some proper supplies. Santa really did spoil him rotten with all the extra gifts and was making getting by so much more achievable than what he had been previously. Even before his kidnapping, living in the forest certainly did not come with quite the same number of luxuries that living in a Human Beans house did.

For one: Constant food source. 

Wilbur was one sloppy guy. 

Bean did not seem very keen on putting things away properly before he left the house for hours at a time for this ‘You-knee-verse-it-tea’ thingy he went to for school. Anyone normal would probably think he was a slob, but for Tommy it was the golden ticket to trying foods he’d never even dreamed of! Did you know bread could actually taste good when it wasn’t mouldy? 

Wilbur’s house was just a treasure trove of things to borrow from and Tommy had pretty much anything and everything he could ever want here. He still had plans to get back to his nook home, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay for awhile longer while he figured out where home actually was.

There wasn’t really a rush to leave with all the snow still about anyways. He couldn’t be the bestest Borrower ever if he was frozen solid before he got home, but he couldn’t help but think about what Santa had said. 

‘He’s not as scary as you think’

After the whole meeting with the REAL Santa, Tommy hadn’t felt the same. After being so used to the isolation of the forest, physically talking to someone that wasn’t an animal or a tree had left the Borrower a tad empty. He’d spoken to someone, and they had spoken and listened back. The candy cane card sat in front of his bed and every day Tommy would wake up and reread the message and reminisce about that fateful night. 

It seemed bonkers to the boy, the idea of actually speaking to another Human Bean, but Santa’s kindness and words seemed to ring loud in his head. He’d been longing to talk to someone again for so long, and after observing Wilbur all this time; the Bean hadn’t done anything to suggest that they were a bad person. Believing that Santa was telling the truth wasn’t hard, but the thought of willingly revealing himself? Well it was easier said than done.

Because what if Santa was wrong? 

What if Wilbur was kind to other Beans but looked at him and decided he was more of a ‘Tommy shaped pet’ instead of an actual person? Just what would he do when he held all power over him? He would be powerless to stop them and could quite easily end off worse than where he started.

Tommy tried to shake the thoughts away before he thought too hard about it. 

Wilbur would never catch him.

That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

Speak of the devil and they shall appear, as the sound of faint keys being slid into a lock as it clicked, signalled the return of said Bean. The man gently opened and shut the door as they sighed before walking into the kitchen, as Tommy listened intently to their routine.

Put their bag down on the table. Open and close the fridge Shuffle through the cupboards for something to eat. Take out a box of half eaten crackers. Eat one and toss the rest on the bench for later.

Move into the bedroom to relax and close the door with a soft-

‘Click’

Tommy grinned mischievously to himself.

Now was his time to shine.

It might be foolish to any other Borrower to take food while a Bean was actively awake and home, but Tommy had seen Wilbur do this enough times to know now that that man was not going anywhere for at least another 20 to 40 minutes while they de-stressed their day away watching Tikky Toks on their phone, and there was no way he was wasting the opportunity to get food while it was easy access on the bench right now.

Silently, Tommy grabbed his hook and borrowing bag as he made his way through the maze of walls to the kitchen outlet. Just a quick trip and Dinner would be acquired. 

Easy.

With little effort, Tommy slipped the electrical cover off the outlet to the kitchen, double checking the coast was clear before making a move straight for the crackers. 

“Ugh, Seaweed again?” Tommy scrunched his nose up at the obnoxious packaging. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining about the easy borrow, but the blonde knew there were BBQ flavoured ones up on the high shelf he couldn’t reach. Stupid Wilbur gatekeeping his favourite snacks. Okay, unknowingly sure, but come on; Seaweed? The same stuff fish eat? Yuck.

Secretly the boy actually didn’t mind them too much but it does get a bit much eating the same thing 5 nights in a row. Better plan a supply trip to the high shelves next time Wilbur’s out to get stocked up with a bit more variety Tommy decided, as he opened his bag and stored a broken up cracker. 

As he gathered up his borrowings, the unusual pangs of an instrument in pain sounded down the hall. Tommy gasped as he sped up his movements before grabbing his hook and hastily making his way down to the ground. Another few pangs of an off note sounded through the walls as Wilbur messed with his guitar strings.

Looked like it was dinner and a show tonight!

Lady Life’s music of the Forest was good and all, but Tommy never knew music like Wilbur’s even existed till he got to experience it one night. It was just like tonight, Wilbur in the other room with Tommy borrowing before the man started doing what was called ‘tuning the guitar’ to get the instrument in the right key. 

Tommy thought he’d been destroying the poor instrument until they started playing a song he didn’t know. The brunette had talent and listening to them play felt like a private concert just for him. It wasn’t long before Tommy had crossed the kitchen and was back in the walls to Wilbur’s bedroom, nestled atop the Bean’s shelf out of sight in a discarded Beanie.

The soft strum of the guitar filled the room and Tommy found himself relaxing to the constant rhythm. It was easy to just let himself drift and sway with the melody. The way it put him at ease was almost hypnotic, but the boy found he didn’t care if it meant he could indulge in it forever. 

Wilbur had been working on this song for awhile and it had quickly become one of his favourites. There were many times he had wanted nothing more than to cheer and clap whenever the Human Bean had finished playing, but the lingering fear of being caught was ever present in the boy's mind. This however didn’t seem to defer his ever growing loneliness. 

‘Would it be so bad if he were to talk to Wilbur?’

‘What if he was one of the so-called good Beans?’

‘What if he had a chance to make a friend?’

Tommy peaked over the edge of the shelf down to where Wilbur was busy absorbed in his playing. How would he even approach them? It’s not like he could just walk out into the open and be like: ‘Hi I’m Tommy and I’ve been living in your walls ever since you kidnapped me and using all your stuff. Want to be friends?’

…

Yeah that’s definitely going to result in him winding up in a jar or something.

If only Santa Claus was still here. It was his suggestion to befriend them in the first place so he’d probably know exactly what to say and do. 

Wait, THAT WAS IT!!!

Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Why not just ask Santa what to do! It made perfect sense! He’s a Bean and talks to them all the time so obviously he would know exactly how he could approach them! 

Tommy crept back into the walls and quickly ran off in the direction of the house's study. 

He had a letter to write.

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“Okay, Dear Santa…” Tommy said out loud as he began to write in his best handwriting. 

As soon as he’d found an unused marker in the study, Tommy had been quick to fashion it into one his size from the red tip. His hands had been stained red, but red was the poggest colour ever so he didn’t mind. He had gone to start writing a letter with some borrowed paper back in his home that night, but quickly realised Santa probably wouldn’t be able to read his letter if the letter was written in his regular handwriting- AKA too small to read with Santa’s bad eyesight from being old. This would require a bigger piece of paper and writing with his Big Man writing skills!

That also meant needing a bigger piece of paper and room to write it which meant waiting for Wilbur to leave and that took far too long with it being a Sunday. Tommy had had to wait HOURS for Wilbur to leave to do the grocery shopping, but at least it meant he’d be out for awhile and the Bean had left the kitchen window open, so it was a good day to enjoy some fresh air, albeit if it was a bit cold still and windy.

So with his new marker in hand and a few sheets of Wilbur's scrap pieces of paper from the Kitchen, Tommy now had everything he could possibly need to write his letter.

“Dear Santa.”

…

“---Dear Santa?”

…  …   …

“Dear Santaaaaaaaa UGHHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?”

Well, everything but the right words…

“It shouldn’t be this difficult!” The boy complained, as he crossed out another attempt at writing. 

“Dear Santa, so you know how you said to talk to Wilbitch? How exactly do I do that?” 

Tommy groaned as he furiously scribbled over the dear santa line before flopping himself on top of the stack of papers. He had been trying to write this letter for 15 minutes and he was getting frustrated. He just didn’t know how to start the letter. 

Get straight to the point or ease into? 

Is there even a way to write a letter correctly? 

6 year old Beans do this for goodness sake!

He just wanted to ask for the best way to approach Wilbur without the worst occurring. He knew the Beans schedule so he could probably work out a good time to talk to them based on their mood but he also still had to get over the idea of willingly exposing himself and that he definitely needed Santa’s help with. Not to forget to mention he still had to thank Santa for all his gifts too! He honestly couldn’t thank him enough for what he had done and the Borrower wanted the old man to know that.

Perhaps just being honest would be the best way to write this? Get it all down in one go and out in the open so he and Santa were completely on the same page. It was at least worth a shot. Wilbur would be back soon and he needed to get something written before that. With a little more internal deliberation, Tommy took a deep breath, and began to write.

Line after line the Borrower wrote his letter- as well as stopping to rest his aching hand as the letter grew longer letting the words flow as best he could. It wasn’t perfect, but then again he added pictures and doodles to make it better so he’s pretty sure that evens it out.

The last thing he needed to do was address the letter to Santa and get it to the letterbox. With his best precision skills, Tommy folded the letter in half and wrote on the front in his best writing.

TO: SANTA

NORTH POLE

Once he was done, Tommy stepped back to admire his handy work.

It was a bit wonky and anything but fancy, but for the first letter he’s ever written, it wasn’t too bad for a giant letter written by a Borrower.

Now all that was left was to deliver it. The boy quickly put his marker away into his borrowing bag and cleaned up the stack of papers back into a neat pile like how he found it, discarding any of his first bad attempts in the bottom of the bin where Wilbur wouldn’t find it, before moving to the window with the letter in tow. 

Now the best way to get the letter to Santa would be to post it and Tommy had seen some Human Beans put letters in their letter box before on the big black box, and then they were taken to be delivered like magic, so that made the most logical sense to him. He’d have to go outside to send it, but if he went now and waited till the sun went down, he would be able to scale the letterbox under the cover of darkness and do it with less risk. 

Tommy set the letter down beside him as he prepared to descend from the window sill to the outside world. The wind had picked up a little bit, but the Borrower was confident in his abilities to scale down the wall without any issues. Just like climbing up and down the trees back in the forest. Hook in, and descend down. Piece of cake.

Once he was sure his hook was secure, Tommy gathered up the letter in one arm before raising his other to shield his eyes from the setting sun, basking in the serenity of the afternoon as a chilly breeze blew through his golden curls.

Tommy exhaled a content sigh. He missed watching the sunset through the trees of the forest, the soft music of trees swaying and birds chirping as they did their birdie things. Hopefully he’d be reunited with his old nook and could enjoy them like he once did again soon. His letter was sure to fix everything. 

Santa would fix everything.

Tommy gently closed his eyes to savour the feeling one last time, but the boy lingered for just a moment too long as a strong gust of wind was all it took to throw the Borrower off balance and snatch his letter from his grasp, sending it flying off with the wind.

“NO!” The blonde shouted, watching as his letter drifted left and right off into the distance. 

It was almost magical in a sense, as he watched how it danced through the air and Tommy had to wonder, what if that was intentional. Santa had managed to do things he didn’t think possible with his magic, so perhaps he knew when letters were addressed to him and sent a magic wind to collect it for him?

Yeah that made sense! Good old Santa Claus looking out for his favourite Borrower! Prime he should have thanked Santa more in his letter.

Satisfied with coming to this conclusion, Tommy packed up his gear before heading back to the walls for a well deserved rest; blissfully unaware of the true whereabouts of his letter as it drifted through the wind over buildings and roads, before finally flying straight into a certain brunettes face on his way back from the shops.

“What on Earth?!” Wilbur grabbed at the piece of paper from his face prepared to throw it away before abruptly coming to a stop to read the bright, red scrawl across the front.

“Okay, interesting spelling.” Wilbur examined the poorly addressed letter. 

It was obviously a lost Christmas letter written on what looked like sheet music from some kid judging by the spelling and array of doodles. Little faces in the O’s to make it look like Santa, but obnoxiously written in capital letters to make it stand out. It made him think of Tommy and how he went into all the finer details of his life that he couldn’t help but opt to read the childish letter and pique his growing curiosity. 

Dear Santa

Hi, it's Tommy! TommyInnit the Borrower you spoke to on Christinimass Eve. I’m sure I don’t need to explain which Tommy to you being the most amazing Tommy to exist ever but anyways I’m writing this letter to ask for your help.

Firstly, thank you for all the pogger gifts. They’re all so AWESOME so thank you! (Like seriously, you are the Greatest Man alive- After me of course >:3 )

Anyways, the reason I sent you this letter. You know Wilbitch Wilbur? The Human Bean that kidnapped me? Well I’ve decided to be the bigger man and befriend him despite him kidnapping me and destroying my home (You know it’s still in his living room slowly dying? Weirdo).

Thing is, I don’t really know how to do that. I know you said I can trust him, but I’m still scared of what he might do to me if he finds out I’ve been using and taking his stuff. I know his schedule by heart at this point and wait till he leaves to get anything done outside the walls, but ever since talking to you I’ve felt so lonely. I loved talking to you but I know I can’t do that with you all the time so I’m willing to give the Bean a chance. 

Do you have any ideas for how I can talk to him?

Thank you for your help and if you do this I won’t even ask for a Christmas present this year!!! Seriously I won’t!!!  I would just like a friend.

From the coolest Borrower ever,

-Tommy

P.S. You’re the best.

Wilbur couldn’t believe his eyes.

It- It was a letter to Santa, from Tommy.

His Tommy.

This was it! This was his in, his chance!!!

Wilbur carefully folded the letter back in half and slipped it into his trench coat pocket before hurrying home, formulating a plan of action the whole way. Finally he had a shot to befriend Tommy and there was no way he was going to waste it.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Waiting.

Waiting..

More waiting…

Great. Just great.

Wilbur couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the clock on the class room wall. His leg bounced in anticipation as the minutes ticked by to the end of the day. He should really be listening to his lecturer, but it was almost impossible to do so when all the uni student could think of was getting home as quickly as possible.

The only way to catch Tommy would be by surprise, and to do that would be to break his schedule. 

Wilbur couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love a well structured schedule. It was the only way he found he really ever got anything done and if sticking to his timed out plan was the way to do that, then so be it. Sometimes that meant postponing other things like hangouts and was a pain, but right now it was his ticket to meeting one Borrower. 

His Plan- Get home an hour earlier than normal by skipping study and hope to catch Tommy in the open.

Okay, so yes the whole plan was just one big gamble. It’s not like he got home at exactly the same time every day so he doubted Tommy was going to be out borrowing still even if he was home early, but it’s the best idea he’s got. The letter said Tommy knew his schedule so being early was rarity for him. It’s not going to hurt to give it a try. 

He’ll either see Tommy, or he won’t. 

Wilbur idly traced the words of Tommy's letter as he sat and waited for his lecturer to signal the end of class. So much energy and bright smiles were hidden beneath the red writing and he wanted to know it all. 

After what felt like an eternity, his lecture finally ended and the brunette wasted no time in gathering up his things and racing out the door. He didn’t really need to sprint home, especially given that the roads were still a bit icy, but there was no time to waste. 

It only took a matter of minutes for him to reach the end of his street, huffing and panting. He took his time walking down to his house allowing himself to catch his breath and recompose himself for the task at hand. 

This was a stealth operation. No loud noises allowed.

Wilbur treaded lightly up to his front door, taking out his keys holding the key chains tight to prevent any jingling sounds before slipping the key in the lock. He turned the key as slowly as he dared, opening the door in a similar manner, before poking his head inside the door frame, eyes immediately looking to spots he thought the small borrower child might be hiding. 

No signs of Tommy.

Wilbur crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a loud click. “Shoot.” he muttered before slapping a hand over his mouth sharply, before realising his mistake as he cringed at the slight stinging pain now blooming across his jaw. 

‘Don’t talk, you idiot!’ Wilbur internally chastised himself. 

Ignoring his first blunder, Wilbur quietly shuffled across the carpet to peek into the living room. Nothing appeared out of place, and Tommy’s spot on the book shelf remained as empty as ever. 

‘Not here,’  Wilbur thought as he turned and tiptoed across the hallway. ‘Try the kitchen. Just slow and steady, keep quiet, move slow and steady and- ‘CREAKKKKKKK’  An old floorboard groaned loudly as it took the man’s weight. 

‘So much for stealth.’

Holding onto a sliver of hope he hadn’t messed up, Wilbur peered into the kitchen. Just like the living room, everything remained untouched and just the same as ever. Wilbur sighed heavily, dropping his bag loudly in defeat. If Tommy had been here, there was no way he hadn’t heard that floorboard move.

Resigning himself to his failed efforts, Wilbur didn’t bother to stay quiet as he trudged into the kitchen defeated. He flung the kitchen cupboard open, grabbing the BBQ crackers from the top shelf cracking the package open. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his bag from the floor before moving off to his room. 

So his one and only plan didn’t work, now what was he going to do? Guess he’d have to try and think of another time to break his schedule that wouldn’t compromise his study life a different way. 

The brunette sighed as he grabbed his phone, chucking on one of his favourite playlists and booting up his Bluetooth speaker. Might as well do some study since he skipped his study block back at the campus. It was as he sat down his stomach suddenly grumbled. 

Oh, right- the crackers.

Wilbur rose from his chair and moved through the halls before abruptly coming to a stop and hiding behind the kitchen door. There was movement from the BBQ Crackers packet. The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as he watched a tiny blonde boy emerge from the packaging with a cracker looking extremely pleased with themself, as they set it down next to a little blue bag. 

Tommy.

Wilbur couldn’t help but stare as he watched the boy work. He should have known that Tommy would come out for food. It never occurred to him that he would try and get the discarded crackers when they were left out on the bench. It was dangerous for the Borrower considering he was home and could be seen, but it was easy access for the boy so of course the risk would be worth it.

With careful precision to avoid the creaky floorboards, Wilbur crept forward. Said blonde had crawled back into the Crackers packet and was distracted. He didn’t want to scare Tommy away, but the boy was far too close to the electrical socket and he’d determined it was a wall entry/exit a while ago. The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to bolt.

It wasn’t till he was about a step or two away that the Borrower popped back out of the bag with another cracker in tow.

It was now or never.

“Ahem,” Wilbur cleared his throat and tried not to feel guilty, as he watched the Borrower on the bench flinch, stumbling back in surprise. “Hi there.”

Wilbur remained completely still as he watched in anticipation for what the blonde would do next. Tommy’s face seemed to morph 100 different ways all at once before stopping at terrified as they processed the situation. The pure terror on the Borrowers face showed he knew there was no escaping this, as their eyes darted around trying to formulate the next best course of action despite their seemingly ‘dire’ situation, but Wilbur continued to remain calm. 

He needed Tommy to understand he wasn’t in danger. 

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, only broken by the sound of the cracker Tommy had been clutching to his chest, snapping into several pieces. The borrower was so frightened for being caught, he’d subconsciously been clutching the cracker tighter and tighter till it snapped. 

“Can I help with that?” Wilbur asked, pointing to the broken cracker in the boy's lap as he stepped closer. 

Tommy was fast to react. The blonde sprung to his feet, cracker and equipment forgotten as they bolted for the electrical socket.

“No wait, STOP!” Wilbur cried as lunged forward to stop the boy. Before he even realised what he’d done, he’d swept the Borrower up in his hand, the boy now kicking and screaming in his grasp. 

“LET ME GO!!!” he shrieked as they dug and scratched their nails into Wilbur's skin. 

Tommy felt the way the hand flexed as he did so, but his attempts weren’t enough to get the man to budge. This was only the second time he’d ever been picked up by a human, and it was nothing like the way Santa had treated him. It felt far too tight and confining and Tommy wanted nothing more than to be free of it. Tommy always knew that Human Beans could be fast, but he never realised just how fast they actually might be.

His futile attempt to make it back to the walls had been wishful thinking at best. Now the very real threat of his head being popped off for being caught stealing the Bean's food had his heart hammering out of his chest. He was going to continue his plans of bloody murder, but as his stomach lurched and he was lifted up and away from the counter, all attempts died off as he was brought closer to his impending doom's face. He couldn’t suppress the small whimper that slipped as his body shook as the Bean seemingly studied every inch of him, before their eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hey, hey it’s alright.” Wilbur reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold. 

How did he know his name?

No, no he couldn’t have. He’d been careful. Never seen, not once. There was no way Wilbur could have known he was here let alone his name right? Right???

“How the heck do you know my name?” he spat. 

Did this mean they knew he was here? Had the Bean been trying to lure him out this entire time just so they could trap him and punish him for taking their stuff?

“Ahhh so about that..” Wilbur began before quickly adjusting his grip and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, thin piece of paper with red scribbled all over it. “I got your letter. It didn’t quite make it to the North Pole I’m afraid.”

Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was his letter to Santa.

All his worst fears were confirmed in the Beans grasp. If Wilbur had his letter then that meant he DEFINITELY had read it and would know everything!! As if magic wind was a real thing! Prime, why did he think writing to Santa when it was no longer Christmas would be a good idea? 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you Tommy, I just want to talk honestly.” Wilbur tried to reassure as he placed the letter down. The boy only shook his head in response, trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut expecting the worst.

“Okay, I know you’re scared Tommy, but I’ve read your letter, and I just want to help you. You can trust me I-” 

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!” The boy shrieked. “YOU SNATCHED ME OFF THE TABLE AND ARE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL!”

“Well yes I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you, I just didn’t want you to run away!” 

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll let me go!” Tommy pleaded, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please just let me go.”

Wilbur sighed, realising his terrific plan to speak to Tommy wouldn’t get very far with their current circumstances. If the roles were reversed, he’d be rightly terrified out of his mind too. You’d think after all his research on Borrowers, this is something he’d be aware of. Looking around the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t just put them down on the bench and risk the boy making another run for it, and instead turned and headed for the dining room table, despite the boy's sniffling cries.

“Tommy, I’m going to put you down now.” Wilbur explained, trying to be gentle as he sat down on one of the wooden chairs.  “I promise I won’t hurt you and you can leave straight after, I just want to talk.”

The boy didn’t speak as he brought his hands down to the wooden surface and slowly released his grip. The blonde immediately wriggled out from his fingers and dropped to the table with a slight thud, but was just as quickly scooting away from his hands now he was free. Wilbur brought his hands away and slipped them under the table into his lap to be less intimidating, but could see Tommy was still highly on edge as they tried to gain distance. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on him with a terrified expression, seemingly knowing that he had no hope of getting away in the Beans presence. 

He felt bad for putting them in such a vulnerable position, but if he wanted any hope to get him home, then they needed to talk properly- face to face. 

“There,” Wilbur said, retracting his hands placatingly. “See, you’re fine.”

Tommy didn’t look particularly convinced, his eyes red from crying and snot running down his nose. Like seriously, who did this guy think he was? After the way he just behaved, why should he trust him?

“Define fine.” The boy snapped hugging himself as he turned away so he didn’t have to face the brunette's constant staring.

Wilbur sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He’s the one that wanted to make friends in the first place.

Wilbur glanced at the letter he’d placed on the edge of the table. Tommy was the one that wanted to talk to him but was just unsure of how to approach him. But instead here he’d come waltzing in and frantically grabbed him without any consideration for how this would make him look. The boy believed Santa when he told him he was a good guy, but any truth in that was gone and rightfully so. In Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur didn’t deserve to be trusted. 

How could you trust someone that held your life in their hands?

Wilbur sighed as he knew how to fix this, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, but if he wanted Tommy to trust him then his actions had to match his words.

“Okay so I know I didn’t make the best first impression so how about we start over?” Wilbur tried even slinking down to be a bit lower so he wasn’t looming over him so much. “My names Wilbur and if you need anything you can just ask okay?” 

Tommy didn’t reply, even going as far to give him the finger which had the man having to suppress a laugh despite it being fair. He waited for the blonde to speak up a little longer but it didn’t seem the Borrower would be talking any time soon.

Sighing realising this wasn’t going to work, Wilbur stood from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Tommy remained still only glancing a little bit to the side when he heard crackling of plastic, before the heavy foot falls of Wilbur's return signaled he was back before something was put down behind him, and a chair was dragged out and around from the table facing backwards.

“So I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I should have realised how my actions would have affected you so I won’t keep you any longer.” Wilbur stepped back from the table and around to the other side where Tommy could see him and towards the hallway back to his room.

“I’ve uh- left the chair next to the table so you can get down with your hook and things, and I promise I won’t go looking for you, but if you ever need anything- please don’t hesitate to ask.” Wilbur took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed the back of his head. “I hope in time, maybe we could be friends.”

After waiting for a reply and receiving none, Wilbur turned and walked into his room, closing the door with a soft click before walking over and flopping onto his bed. He couldn’t force Tommy to trust him. He just had to hope giving them space might change the kids' mind.

The second the Bean was gone, Tommy didn’t hesitate to grab his things and descend down the chair with his hook. He then booked it for the nearest wall entrance he could find and didn’t stop running until he was back in his little room in the walls. 

His heart pounded realising how close that had all been and now there was no time to waste.

Hastily he began to load his clothes into his bag and supplies for the journey he had ahead. He couldn’t stay now Wilbur actively knew of his existence. He’d been at the complete mercy of the Bean and that was never going to happen ever again. He kept doing this until he had completely stuffed his pack. As he prepared to leave he made his way to the door and had one final look around at his home for anything he missed. 

He couldn't pick up on anything specific, not until his eyes landed on the card from Santa. All those happy days he had gotten from just waking up to a pretty card. His encounter with Santa the best day of his life and the reason he was so comfortable here now at all. The memory felt bitter sweet now though, as he trudged over to the card, picking it up harshly flipping it over for one last read.

Dear Tommy,

It was lovely meeting you and getting

to know your story. I figured you might 

like some extra gifts as well to help you

be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls.

I think you should try talking to him. 

You might be surprised. 

Sincerely,

Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

“Not as scary as you think my ass.” Tommy spat bitterly as he set it back in place. 

So what if he’d apologised a bunch of times? That didn’t change the fact he almost hadn’t been freed at all. Sure he’d escaped now, but Wilbur might have just made it look like he was free to go as an act to trick him into feeling guilty enough to stay to catch him later. 

But then again, he did apologise a lot and gave him a quick way back down the table. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt him or anything, just guilty he’d grabbed him in the first place. In fact he hadn’t really done anything besides scare the living daylights out of him by snatching him up.

It was perfectly logical for him to be scared of being grabbed, but apart from that, had the Bean actually done anything wrong? He was just reacting to the situation, and if he had read his letter, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

But no that can’t be right? He can’t seriously be considering Wilbur not a threat after all that?

“Ughhhh my head hurts!” He groaned frustratedly before dropping his pack to the floor and flopping head first into his bed. Why do Human Beans never make sense? Tommy curled himself into the fabric squeezing the sock blanket tightly in his grasp. This was all far too much for him to think about right now. 

The events of the day finally seemed to catch up to him as he laid there, adrenaline wearing off, replaced with a heavy fatigue. Perhaps sleeping would be better than trying to leave right this second? Who knew when he’d have another chance once he started the move. 

Rather than fight it, Tommy soon fell asleep, snuggled in his bed, his thoughts dreaming of what ifs and Wilbur.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The next day, Tommy had yet to leave.

He’d spent most of the morning mulling over his options and what the best course of action was and was having a hard time making up his mind.

On the one hand, leaving meant he was 100% safe from Wilbur and whatever his plans might be, whether they be good intentions or not. But on the other hand, that meant giving up the space he’d spent so long getting right and traversing the winter terrain without a guarantee of finding a place that was safe to stay in. While the Bean knew of his presence, at least he had a warm bed and didn’t have to worry about frostbite. But of course that still left one problem: 

Wilbur.

The more he replayed yesterday's events over in his mind the more he wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe Wilbur was one of the good Beans. It’s not like he’d ever met or interacted with one before he came here. Everything he knew of them came from stories and warnings from his parents about Borrowers getting trapped in Jars and what not, but there was always some truth in stories one way or another. 

Still though, he had one thing going for him that no other Bean did. Santa trusted him. And while Tommy may not trust him, (not completely anyways) perhaps there was a way he could test them.

Tommy had his borrowing bag strapped to his back and his hook and rope at his side as he sat perched atop the bookshelf in the living room, watching and waiting for Wilbur to enter. He’d test the Bean. See if he stayed true to his word and be in plain sight of the man and see if he was worthy of his presence. If he tried to catch him or hurt him in any way, all he had to do was get back through the crack in the wall and grab the rest of his things and book it out of there.

The blonde's knee bounced in anticipation. It was one thing trying not to be seen by a being 100x your size, but another to willingly just be waiting in the open for your maybe/maybe not demise to show up. Strange how the last time he stood out here, he did so waiting for Santa happily, but now it felt like he half wanted to throw up as he waited for the brunette to show.

His thoughts must have summoned him, because entered an exhausted Wilbur with a cup of coffee in hand before they plonked themself down on the couch. He took a long sip and sighed before putting the cup down and threw their head back against the couch. 

He looked sad. Big dark bags under his eyes and he was frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. Tommy couldn’t help but think that was probably his fault. Seems yesterday's events had affected Wilbur just as much as it had him and he did feel a bit guilty for that. Did he really care that much he’d lose sleep over him? 

Only one way to find out.

“Ahem.” Tommy cleared his throat and the Bean jolted up almost immediately, head looking around wildly for the source. 

“Hey, up here big man.” The boy called with a wave to down below and clenched his hook tightly with the other hand as the brunette's sweeping gaze snapped up onto him.  “Sorry if I- uh startled you.”

“No, no it’s fine, I just- I thought you left.” Wilbur said as he turned himself to be better facing the Borrower without leaving the couch. 

“Why would I do that?” Tommy asked even though he knew the answer. 

“Well, I don’t know I just thought- I’d scared you away.” Wilbur looked away, staring at his coffee as if it was far more interesting than the boy on his shelf. “I figured you’d have left because of how I- how I um..”

“Grabbed me?” Tommy asked, raising a brow as he did so.

“Yeah… I truly am sorry about that. I never should have reacted like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I never planned to do anything to you when I did, I just- my hand moved without thinking and yeah. I’m sorry Tommy.” 

“It wasn’t particularly nice of you.” Tommy tried to ignore the tingly sensation of phantom hands wrapping around him as he stood up. “I just felt so helpless when you did.” 

Wilbur nodded sadly in agreement. “Yeah I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. Based on what I read in your letter, it must be really hard living at your size when everything is so big.”

“Well I was born this way. I learned to live cautiously to protect myself. You Beans are just too busy thinking of yourselves than about who else might be living out of sight.” Tommy glanced down to Wilbur and noticed how the Bean twiddled their thumbs in their lap, gaze now resting on the table and a familiar piece of paper. His Letter.

“Hey I’ve got to ask,” Tommy started as Wilbur brought his head back up to the shelf. “How did you get your hands on my letter? Last I saw it, it was flying out in the wind randomly to who knows where.”

Wilbur chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the letter carefully to admire the craftsmanship of it once more. “Well, I was walking home from grocery shopping the other day and it kind of just flew into my face. It was by chance that I decided to open it and read it that I noticed the paper was one of my discarded music sheets I use for scrap paper. Kind of connected the dots from there since it was my work and here we are.”

Tommy nodded as he listened. He supposed that made more sense than magic wind, even if the chances of it flying into Wilbur's face were bizarrely low. 

“Still a shame it didn’t make it to Santa. I wanted to thank him properly for what he did for me.”

“You could always write him another letter if you want.” Wilbur suggested. “I don’t mind helping you if you like.” 

Tommy nodded considering the idea before speaking up. “I think you might have to write to Santa for yourself though. You’ll probably be on his naughty list for a while when I tell him about everything that’s happened.” 

Wilbur smiled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah I deserve that. I’ll have to really work hard to get back on the nice list then won’t I?”

“You sure will. Gonna take a lot to get back in his good books though.” 

Wilbur smiled as he set the letter back down and leaned back into the couch. “Do you have any ideas on how I could do that?”

Tommy scratched his head for a moment in thought.

“Well for starters you’d have to be extra nice and always use proper manners like asking before you do something.” 

Wilbur nodded as the boy continued. “And you’d have to always announce your presence coming in and out of rooms cause if you don’t that’s just rude.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle as Tommy kept listing nice specific things off. “Anything else?”

“Annnnd always leave extra food out on the counters- specifically the BBQ crackers and chocolate because that’s how you show you're being extra nice.”

“Right, well it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.” Wilbur replied as he looked back up to where Tommy stood upon the shelf. The boy seemed rather pleased with himself before he realised he was in sight and timidly stepped back from view. 

“I’ve got to ask though, why are you still here? I assumed the last place you’d want to be is anywhere near me and well, yeah.” It was a question that was starting to eat at him as why the Borrower would go against the code and all the other things he had read about not making sense.

“Well initially, I was going to leave straight away, yes. But with all the snow on the ground and not knowing the area, it made the decision of leaving more complicated so I’m giving talking one last shot and then deciding.” 

Wilbur smiled as he felt warm that the blonde was at least giving him a chance, even if they had their hesitations. He didn’t blame Tommy for being wary after everything that had transpired but maybe there was still hope to salvage things.

“Hey Tommy, do you think maybe we could start over?” the brunette asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to show I mean you know harm.” 

Tommy stood back from the shelf edge where he couldn’t see the Bean. This was exactly what he wanted. A chance for the Bean to prove himself and he hadn’t even had to ask. 

Wilbur watched the bookshelf nervously waiting for a response. What if he’d over stepped? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the blonde came back into view with his arms behind his back, before breaking into a smile.

“Yeah, that would be nice. But don’t even think about putting me in a jar cause I know Santa and Santa will absolutely beat your ass if you do.” 

“And why would he do that?” Wilbur smirked teasingly.

“Because,” Tommy stated. “I’m his favourite.”

Wilbur’s heart melted as the boy blew a raspberry at him before pulling a bunch of different faces. In a way, he guessed it was true. 

Tommy was his favourite.

And he wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up a second time.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

In the days to come, Wilbur and Tommy began to slowly get to know each other. 

Albeit at a distance with Tommy still hiding on shelves and behind items that he was sort of a discombobulated voice, but it was a start and made the Borrower feel safer.

Wilbur didn’t mind in the slightest as they were actually talking and making progress! If Wilbur thought Tommy had talked a lot on their Santa encounter, well the kid had certainly been holding back as they chatted away about anything and everything they could speak on.

In fact, soon the two were bantering back and forth like they’d been life long friends and it didn’t take long for Tommy to start showing himself on the shelves. 

Wilbur was always super cautious around the boy and made sure to give him space, and even gave him extra warning about what he was doing to ease the boy more around his presence. While Tommy initially had his reservations, he was quickly beginning to see what Santa had meant in his card. 

Wilbur truly was doing everything he possibly could to show he wanted to help him and be friends and that gave Tommy the confidence to take the next step and actually be in close proximity with the man rather than the safety of shelves. 

Eventually, Tommy would tell Wilbur of how he came to be in his apartment and Wilbur would offer to take Tommy back to his home. It didn’t take long for the boy to realise how close he’d actually grown to the Bean and when the time came to actually go, the Borrower would decide that maybe the Forest wasn’t necessarily his home any more. 

From there, the two continued to grow closer and eventually table talks turned to movie nights on the couch, to hand cuddles on chilly days. And whenever things got too much, Wilbur gave Tommy the space he needed and one day Tommy realised that Santa was right.

Wilbur wasn’t as scary as he once believed. 

In fact, he finally had a friend he could depend on.

Just like he had always wanted.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Epilogue

Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!!!

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing through. It was a lot of fun to write as it's not the kind of topic I see written about very often and especially not in a gt sense so I loved exploring what Santa is to a Borrower that lived outside most of their life never knowing about these things.

HUGE Thank you to @quotemenevervore for beta reading and helping me get unstuck to write the ending!!! Always very thankful for your input and so glad I got this done before Christmas like I planned <3

Thanks again to everyone who's stuck around and continues to enjoy my writing despite all the circumstances of previous creators constantly changing. As times gone on, while I still really enjoy writing these characters, new ideas to use them in the future have certainly been becoming less, so I still fully intend to finish JORNOS but after that's done, I have one more chapter fic I want to post and then I think I might explore some new characters. Dunno yet tbh. Work is being a pain and will probably continue to delay new stuff, but I'm certainly not done yet :3

Anyways that's my last fic for this year so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the next fic <3

Outside, the first flakes of snow were slowly falling on the city, Christmas was approaching and the markets were flowed, and the Christmas spirit of the city was reviving. by evening there was already a pile of snow and it didn't look like it would stop reducing at all. In the orphanage on the outskirts of the city, the children and teachers were also preparing for the approaching Christmas.

Everyone helped to decorate, take care and clean. Only Tommy was locked in his room. Alone. Alone in his dark room, only the moon shone through the window through the holey blinds. He sat on his bed and stared at the slowly falling snowflakes outside the window.

After a while, his gaze wandered to the holey plot of land behind which stretched a gigantic forest. Everyone knew there was something living in that forest….something that shouldn't be there. And everyone who ever dared to set foot there never came back. And this fascinated Tommy. He would have amazing adventures! Tommy may have been a stupid teenager, but he wasn't stupid enough not to know that no one would miss him anyway if he left. Everyone would just shrug their shoulders and live their lives.

He wanted to run away for a long time, but never had much courage to do so…..until now. Now he knew he was ready.He took his backpack with food, water and spare clothes. He put on a warm sweatshirt and jacket, took a scarf with a hat and gloves. He hooked his pocketknife to his belt and opened the window. Before jumping up, he took a deep breath and took one last look around his room. He sighed and jumped.

It wasn't very high and he fell into the freshly fallen snow below, so he took the fall without any difficulty. He got up and walked briskly towards the leaky fence.

It was dark and quiet as he walked into the dark forest along a well-trodden path.

Something snapped behind him. He turned sharply and…..didn't see anything. He stared into the darkness behind him for a moment, but try as he might, he couldn't see anything. He was beginning to regret not taking a flashlight or some other source of light with him. He moved on. The further he went, the more it seemed to him that the trees and his entire surroundings were somehow getting bigger. And it began to snow even more, until he could soon mistake it for a snowstorm. He was cold. He didn't know where to go and he was afraid. He was afraid of those legends. Tommy sighed.

He heard a crack behind him again. He turned around and nothing. There was nothing there. Tommy quickened his pace a little. The cracking was more frequent now.

Suddenly Tommy's feet slipped and he fell to the ground. He slipped on a frozen lake. He just lay there for a while, staring at the mountain, large snowflakes quickly covering him. And again he was snapped out of his thoughts, this time louder and closer. He shook off the flakes and slowly stood up so he wouldn't slip again. There was something there. He slowly began backing closer to the interior of the lake, the lake was huge. Something was moving there, among the huge trees and bushes, it wasn't much to see through the starting blizzard, but he knows what he saw. A huge figure. Giant….Tommy got scared. That was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He was starting to hyperventilate. He had nowhere to hide. Not even really run away. He was standing on the open plain of a frozen lake with no shelter. Surely it already knows where he is.