Chapter 17 - Loss

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"What's wrong?"
Ghostbur stood in the wooden doorway a thick red cloak he had stole from Techno held over his head to prevent the snow from touching him. He took a step inside the house and closed the door.

"Why are you all crying?"

No one said a word. They couldn't. What were they meant to tell him? That the brother he was trying to keep happy and safe just killed himself?

"Did something happen? Why don't I go to Logsteadshire and get Tommy? He could cheer Tubbo up!"

Tubbo broke down again, Phil and Techno both held in tears like their lives depended on it. Still no one said a thing.

"Wait. Did-did something happen with Tommy?"

Techno looked at Ghostbur with tears in his eyes and nodded minutely.

"He's gone, Ghostbur...
Tommy's gone."

The ghost froze in place. Even though he couldn't not feel the air in his lungs anymore it felt as though it had just been knocked out of him. Thick blue tears fell down his face and he started to sob.
He fell to the floor and clutched his hands to his chest.
It hurt so much. He couldn't feel physical pain, he knew that, but it hurt. It hurt so bad.
It felt as though his chest was going to explode.

He wanted to scream.
To cry.
To punch something.
Just do anything to get rid of the wither damned pain that had rooted itself deep in his core.

And so he did.
He let out an ear piercing scream and cried.

Phil and Techno could no longer keep up their composure and the tears they had been holding back finally fell in waves.
Techno pushed away from his brother and dad and clambered over to his twin.
He clutched onto the ghost and the two of them held onto each other. They held on so tight that it marked the skin underneath the clothes.

No words were spoken in the snow covered house.
But if anyone were nearby they would have sworn they had heard banshees that day.
Cries so loud and heartbreaking that it brought even the Gods to tears.

None of them moved as the snow cleared up. And now, the footprints left by a young man laid covered by a thick layer of white, never to be seen. Never to be tracked.

They had lost their chance.

Now all they could do was hold each other and cry. And mourn the loss of a brother who could not be found.





It was evening before any of them moved. It was Tubbo who stirred first.
He stood up wordlessly and went over to the door.
"Tubbo?"
"I need to find him. Please. The snow has cleared, there might still be some trace of him. He could have dropped something, or stayed under the trees. Please."
Phil got up and handed his cloak to his son.
"I'll follow shortly. Go. 
See if you can find him.
If he remembers anyone in this family it would be you."

And with that Tubbo left the house in search for his brother.
Phil looked down at the two boys that lay passed out on the floor. He couldn't leave them.
And so he took a swig of strength potion, he wasn't as strong as he used to be, and picked up Techno from the ground placing him on one of the long sofas, he then did the same for Ghostbur before putting on a spare cloak he had hung up and left to help Tubbo find any hint as to were Tommy may be.

The two of them trudged through the snow hoping to find any trace of where Tommy could be.
It was still snowing slightly, the cold chill only made it worse.
The cloaks around the two barely did anything to stave off the bitter breeze that continued to hound into them.
They searched for hours to no avail until Techno came outside with two hot chocolates in hand and beckoned them into the house.
They couldn't say no.
Not when the chill had left them with numb fingers and shivering bodies.
What use where they if they were dead?

Techno stood patiently at the door as he watched his father and younger brother trudge inside.
He was about to close the door when he saw a glimpse of red in the snow. He knew he had to look.
He put the hot chocolates in the two's hands, told them to stay inside and vaulted over the handrail outside of his house.
As he got closer to the red ball he also saw hints of beige.

'No.
No it couldn't be.'

He looked back towards his house and saw that Phil, Tubbo and Ghostbur were all talking. None of them had seen what he saw.

In the snow lay a pair of torn, burned and bloody trousers and a white and red shirt in a similar condition.

'No.
No it can't be.
He didn't.
But Ghostbur melts in rain and snow.
No.
No Tommy didn't melt.
He didn't melt!
He didn't die on us again!
He isn't gone!'

Silent sobs wracked the hybrids body as he clutched the clothes close to his chest.
He stayed there in the snow for what felt like days when in actuality it was only minutes.

He couldn't go back.
Not yet.
He needed to collect himself.
He couldn't trust what he may do if the voices decided to act out right now.
They always seem to strike when he is vulnerable after all.

And so he left the grounds of his house, Tommy's old clothes tucked away in his cloak, as he set off to find an animal or mob or something that he could kill, just to calm himself down.

They wouldn't know.
Not yet.
They deserved to at least have hope.
Even if it was futile.


They wouldn't know that Tommy was truly gone.

Not yet...





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