So, it's been a while. I plan to hopefully finally finish this story up soon, so I'm sorry about the wait this took.

(Also, Dream's face reveal was fricking cute. That dude, honestly.)

| I Know |

You're thrown off at the blaring alarm going off inside your head. Immediately, you know what it is, and the amethyst illuminates.

It feels like a kick to the gut.

Tommy.

You're out the door before you could comprehend. Their shouting is like buzzing in your ears, overpowered by Tommy's pain.

Y/N—help—Cassian?—pain.

You're in the air, and just as quickly as the amethyst flared, it went silent. Your stomach dropped. Stilling, wings beating to keep you airborne, you search desperately through the darkness of the night to find blonde hair and a red jumper. Nothing.

"Y/N!" Phil zipped over.

"Tommy," is all you could get out, "Where was he going?!"

Phil stared, "His hobbit hole."

"Something happened."

His expression tightened and then the both of you were on the move, Phil leading the way.

You haven't flown this fast in years, it aches your muscles and you know they're going to hurt later but—for Tommy, you would give up a life.

<><><><><><>

You stared numbly at the piece of paper.

Phil paced behind you, purely pissed off avian sounds escaping him.

Finally, you turned, clenching the piece of paper tightly as you eyed the blood splatter on the wooden floor.

A low sizzle sparked in your gut. It grew rapidly, uncontrollably. Your nails, trimmed, sharpened, tearing into the paper as you clenched; the pieces littered the ground.

A vibration rose up your throat until it escaped in a deep bone rattling growl.

The black of your nails crept up your hands, like ink injected into your veins. That splattering of colour on your skin hardened into scales; your teeth ached.

The shouts of your names have you stilling, it drags both Phil and yourself back to the present. You're breathless with anger, but you steady yourself, feeling the barest hint of your skin threatening to ripple and shift.

Technoblade, Dream, and Wilbur arrive, stumbling to a stop, near breathless from all the running.

"What the fuck happened?" Wilbur gasps for air.

You hold out the remains of the ripped paper. Wilbur, confused, took it from your waiting hand. Dream peered over Wilbur's shoulder.

I know. Met me at the portal.

"He knows?" Dream questioned, "Portal?"

"End Portal," was your short clipped answer.

How?

Could—could it have been Julie? He had dragged her down, driven her mad right alongside him in his pursuit to recreate the revival spell. Had he confided in her about his obsession?

Had Julie told him?

A swell of betrayal renews.

But you don't know, can't know until you save Tommy from Cassian.

"Okay," Technoblade breathed, "He doesn't have that much of a head start. We can catch up."

"Did he follow me?" Wilbur voice was full of fear.

There could be no knowing, and yet it was the only reasonable theory. Cassian hadn't known where you lived, never even seen a glimpse.

"He must have been asking around to see if anyone knew Y/N, then follow them," Technoblade commented.

"But what are the odds Wilbur would bump into him?" Dream asked.

"Bad draw of the luck," Phil breathed.

You rub the bridge of your nose, wondering just what the horrid odds are that it went this way.

Father, help me, you beg, tell me if Tommy is safe.

Your eyes turn skyward to the starry night above you in a desperate bid for some form of reassurance.

The stars glistened and you sigh a breath of relief.

"Let's go," Dream prompted and you flared your wings, lifting off.