It was quiet.
Peaceful.
Wilbur and Techno stood in the middle of the dust filled battlefield, covered in blood and bruises. The sun weakly filtered through the dark clouds, rain gently falling onto the gore splattered ground. There was a small beauty in the silence, in the peace, in the whistling wind and the patter of rain.
It was beautiful.
He hated it.
He hated the bodies of his allies, his friends and his family strewn around the dusted ground. His heart still twisted as he saw fluffy blond hair and a red and white tee-shirt, torn and bloody. He still felt so guilty seeing the green hat gently placed over a peaceful face, stilled with death.
His family.
His father.
His brother.
The corpses of people that he had fought against and beside, the people he missed like a gaping hole in his chest. Brown hair, glasses strewn next to him and his arms still wrapped around his soulmate. Still open green eyes, unseeing in death, freckles across his face splattered with blood.
They had died together.
A small mercy.
Rain fell on his face, mixing with his salty tears and the blood coating his forehead and cheek. He just stood, staring at the dark, storming sky, crying on the battlefield that he created. He sobbed in the middle of the bodies of his family that he killed, he hurt, the family that he destroyed.
Phil had died in peace.
Tommy had been killed with a smile on his face.
He had lived in pain.
"Wilbur?"
A hand grasped his own.
He turned around and saw Techno looking at him, amber eyes soft with grief and pain, tears trickling down his face. There was something so unreal about the whole thing, like it shouldn't be happening. Half of him was hoping this was all a horrible nightmare, that he'd wake up and everything would be fine.
But he knew it wasn't.
"What do we do now?" Techno asked, his voice raspy from dust and crying, and blood still dripped from his wounds.
Wilbur looked around at the wreckage.
This was his fault.
It was time to fix things.
"We need to bury the dead."
It was a lot of work.
But it was the right thing to do.
Techno had just looked him in the eyes, gaze warm as he smiled a bit through tears, then nodded. Wilbur felt a bit of happiness stir in his damaged, broken heart as the pink haired man muttered something about shovels. There was no way things would ever go back to normal after this, but they could still try.
They could still heal.
Learn to forgive.
Wordlessly, Techno handed Wilbur a blood splattered spade, the leather handle slick with dust and water. This sent him to wonder. Who brought a shovel to a battle? Seriously? But it was here now, and there was a bitter irony in the fact that it would now dig the grave for all the people here.
They buried Tommy first.
That was... sad.
It hurt.
YOU ARE READING
Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream
ActionDream was thrown into a game of life or death. Only one person could survive, only one person could come out of the bloodbath with their life. The rules were simple. Save yourself. Don't care for anyone. Don't die. But he couldn't follow the rules...
