[: mcyt angst :] - DISCONTINUED -

chapter 17: going, going, gone (part 2)

"Why?"

~ { Tommy's POV } ~

"Why?"

My heart felt like it was torn out my chest, stomped on until it was all mushy, and put back in right in front of me. This was all going downhill, and I didn't know what to do. He was pushing it really far, but now I'm just extremely concerned.

"'Why?'? The fok do you mean, why?"

"Why does it matter? Why are you worried about me? Why do I have a problem? Why aren't you leaving me alone?"

"It matters because I care about you. I'm worried because you're acting weirder than usual. You have a problem because something's going on and you won't let me, or anyone, help. I'm not leaving you alone because you need HELP!"

"I don't need help!"

"Stop acting like nothing's wrong!"

"It's not an act!"

"It sure as hell is a foking act!"

"It sure as hell isn't a fucking act!"

"Then explain this!"

I reached into my desk drawer and fished out a yellow notebook and a black pen with a bee on it. Tubbo lost his balance and stumbled onto my bed. He was super red now, mostly anger and now some... embarrassment? Humiliation? Frustration? Whatever it was, I didn't like to know I was the cause of it.

~ { 3rd Person POV } ~

"W-Where'd you get that?" Tubbo stammered. He tried to get up and put himself back together, but it was no use. The damage had been done, and Tommy eventually finding out was inevitable. Tubbo cursed himself for not hiding it better.

"Your room. You left it open on your desk, so your mother went to close it and saw what you wrote," Tommy explained with a look of pity. It was ironic, really. He hated people pitying him, yet here he was, pitying his best friend.

"Did you?" Tubbo asked hesitantly with a slight crack in his voice. The tears were threatening to spill over. One had already escaped. It was getting emotional, for both of the boys.

Tommy didn't want to lie to Tubbo, but he didn't think Tubbo would be happy about the truth. Honestly, at this point, Tubbo had basically lost the ability to be genuinely happy. It was a feeling he missed.

"I read a few pages-" "FUCK!" Tubbo yelled and started to violently tear at his hair and punch himself. Tommy grabbed his arms and went behind him, hugging him. Tubbo struggled to get out of Tommy's firm grasp.

"Let go! It hurts," Tubbo whined. He wriggled around one last time before slumping back. "Tubbo, you- you're not okay. And don't try to convince me that you're fine, that's just bullshit."

Tubbo sat there and cried. He cried about the pain. He cried because he felt bad for dragging Tommy down with him. He cried the tears that weren't cried when kids punched him, kicked him to the ground, teased him, pushed him around, anything that was meant to hurt Tubbo.

Tommy cried, too. He cried for Tubbo. He cried because he couldn't help him earlier. He cried because this was all overwhelming. He cried the tears that were bottled up when he saw Tubbo fake a smile after Tommy saved him from the other kids. He cried, remembering how broken and numb Tubbo looked after 2 years of hell.

The two boys sat, hugging each other and crying their eyes out. Both of their clothes were tear-stained. Their hair was ruffled, and their faces were wet and sticky.

"Please eat," Tommy wiped his eyes and nudged Tubbo towards the small plate of food. "It'll be okay."

Tubbo slowly crept to the edge of the bed, at the desk. He reached out and grabbed the apple. It was round and bright red. The stem was pulled off.