MCYT oneshots

Rest in Peace... If You Can.

Hi. SPOILERS.

For those of you that know me, I have been a Tommy apologist since the day I joined the fandom, he was the first person I watched and he quickly became my comfort character.

Needless to say yesterday wasn't great for me so my immediate reaction was to write angst. (Well after watching anime but you get the point.)

TW: Abuse, death, family trauma, beating to death, alcohol

Anyway, enjoy the pain.
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All Tommy remembered was pain. Blunt force pain as Dream stood over him, hitting him, blow after blow. His vision blurring and blotching. Until there was nothing.

He didn't want to go, then there would be no one to protect Tubbo. Granted, him and Tubbo hadn't spoken much since the last war. But still, Tubbo was his best friend anyway, he was all Tommy had. How was he going to live without Tubbo.

No, Tommy's voice echoed glumly. You won't have to live without him. He will have to live without you, he can do that.

Tommy shivered. Wait, I can feel?

The boy looked down and examined his hands. They were there, but not there. An opaque and fuzzy outline hummed in front of him, otherwise unnoticeable.

He examined his surroundings. Everything was so bright. He had expected there to be nothing, just as Ghostbur had said. But this place, this place was bustling and alive. It was bright and many gray people shuffled around nervously like they were looking for something.

"Karl?" Tommy waved to one of the men. "Why are there so many of you. And why are you all gr-"

One of the many shuffling Karls walked straight through Tommy, sending a shiver throughout his being.

"Okay then." Tommy whispered to himself. He moved on, hovering through the castle. Wherever he could've gone, wherever he may have tried to go, he never would've made it.

The in-between had a special place for souls that left their world.

Tommy arrived in a space, covered in black. The walls, the rug, the table. If one hadn't been dead, it would have looked like a void of nothingness.

The door slammed being Tommy, locking and disappearing as soon as they had came, leaving Tommy alone with three familiar faces.

One small figure was curled up in the corner of the room, rocking himself and covering up his ears.

The other two stood over the table arguing like there was no tomorrow. Though in this place there never was.

"Wilbur? Schlatt? Ghostbur?" The sound barely made it out of his mouth. His breath fell short, the words unsure if they wanted to form themselves or not.

The two men stopped arguing, a pair of horns next to a ripped up hat.

Their mouths fell open in unison, they stepped back, unsure of what to think. The only one who made any effort to come close was Ghostbur. Even so, the room seemed to stay still, the breath in it had stopped moving, and so had the four men.

Tommy couldn't take it anymore. He snapped. "YOU- YOU!"

"BOTH OF YOU! SCHLATT YOU ARSEHOLE YOU- TUBBO NEEDED YOU!" Tommy rushed up to Schlatt and shoved him onto the ground.

Schlatt tried to get up. "Hey! You just got here no need to be-"

"I AM NOT DONE! TUBBO NEEDED A DAD AND YOU LEFT HIM FOR A COUNTRY THAT NEVER EVEN STOOD A CHANCE! TUBBO COULD BARELY LOOK AT ME SOMETIMES BECAUSE OF HOW YOU USED TO YELL AT THE TWO OF US WHEN YOU WERE DRUNK!

"All he ever wanted! No- all he ever NEEDED! ALL HE EVER NEEDED WAS A GOOD DAD TO LOOK AFTER HIM AND TEACH HIM HOW TO LIVE RIGHT! I WANTED HIM TO BE BETTER THAN ME, SCHLATT! I wanted him to turn out better than I did. I didn't have anyone, at least you had the chance to make things up to him.

"HE JUST WANTED TO MAKE YOU PROUD!" Tommy's voice faltered for a moment, a tear of mist and soul trickled down his cheek.

Schlatt lay there, stunned. Had he been that bad? He spent everyday kicking himself for not being his dad, but was he that bad?

"AND YOU- WILBUR YOU DISGUSTING PIG! I NEEDED YOU! YOU BLEW UP OUR HOME! EVERYTHING I HAD EVER FOUGHT FOR AS A CHILD! AND THEN WHEN I NEEDED YOU MOST YOU LEFT ME! YOU- YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! I NEEDED YOU AND YOU JUST- Wilbur. You- you left me."

Tommy began to cry, he could say anymore, he didn't know how. All of it, all of the pain. The war at nine, the revolution at ten. The only home he'd ever known, gone at 13, his brother the heart of the destruction. He had looked to Wilbur for everything. Guidance, confidence, love. And he had just left.

Then he had to watch his best friend grow further and further away as he grew up in exile, Dream manipulating his mind, only to end at the hands of that two faced green abomination.

"I can't do this anymore." Sobs wracked his body, his shoulders were hunched and his soul violently shook, for the first time not being afraid to feel.

Ghostbur, who had been watching it all happen from the side, laid a hand on Tommy's shoulder. He was unsure of how to comfort him best, he didn't have his blue. But he wanted to try nonetheless.

Ghostbur drew Tommy into a hug, something Tommy hadn't had in a long time. The younger boy hastily threw his arms around Ghostbur, finally being able to feel him for the first time in a while.

Ghostbur began to hum the tune of Cat and Mellohi, switching between melodies when the notes agreed, rubbing circles on his back the way a big brother should have.

Wilbur and Schlatt stood there like statues, unsure of what to do. And for a brief moment, The two men remembered. They remembered what it was like to be a teenager, and they remembered what had happened before the two left.

Awkwardly, Wilbur tried to embrace his brother and counterpart. He wasn't quite sure if he would be accepted or not, but all he could to was try, and apologize. "I'm sorry."

Tommy didn't have any energy to respond, he just sat there, drawing his brothers in closer.

Schlatt looked at the three hugging there on the floor, wondering what it would have been like if he had gotten to have a few of those during his time alive. And he wrapped his arms around the three as well. "There isn't much I can change from when I was alive, but at least I can try to be here now."

Ghostbur nodded approvingly at the two, and held Tommy tight, the two men on the outside following suit.

The four were held together tightly by emotion unbound. The bittersweet taste of reunion swimming with the spark of anger and pain and dancing with the feeling of release.