Butterfly Reign

25. Though I'm Drowning In Sorrow

"Stop what?" Tommy asks, so devastatingly close to genuine that he almost manages to fool himself. Not Tubbo, though. Tommy registers that he has been shoved away only when one of his ankles staggers over the other - the Star just barely skims his thumb, and swings away out of reach.

"I saw you hiding the star, Theseus," Disdain spikes up in Tubbo's eyes, rising and billowing together with his shaking voice and hiking shoulders. "You're not blaming Ranboo this time."

Tommy's smile falls altogether. Ire coolness floods his veins. He dons an expression more fitting for what he truly feels: disappointment, mostly. Hues of regret that they couldn't do this the easy way, and a promise of a far less favorable outcome.

"You really should've just played along, Tubbo." Those words, nursed so quietly, strike a period at the end of Tommy's perfect ploy. Tubbo squares his shoulders, plants his feet heavier and shoves the Star into his pocket.

"And what, was I supposed to believe you'd forgive me?" Tubbo laughs bitterly. "Nothing is going to be the same, boss man, we both know it."

No, it wouldn't be, Tommy agrees, slowly blinking. A traitor once, a traitor forever, and he would've given up on his crown first before he trusted Tubbo again. And yet...

"We could've pretended," he murmurs.

Tubbo's anger wobbles into something unspoken: maybe disbelief, maybe more oozing, hurtful bitterness.

"For the price of an innocent person's life?"

Tommy looks up at him. "Would you rather pay with your own?"

Tubbo freezes with his next words drawn out on his tongue. Tommy slowly turns to look at the doors. A shout or a loud noise would be enough to alert the guards stationed nearby. If somebody would come in at this very moment, they'd find a traitor standing here with the stolen gem on open display.

"You wouldn't," Tubbo whispers. Tommy's lips crawl into a vicious smile. Just as he unseals them to call for help, Tubbo pounces.

A strangled noise is all that comes out through the hand slapping over Tommy's face. He bites down on it, and the taste of copper floods his tongue. Tubbo lets him go, stifling a cry, but not without a skimming punch to his throat.

Tommy gapes for air, unwilling tears springing up to his eyes. He rams an elbow blindly and it connects with Tubbo's stomach. The two of them stagger away from each other with pain-skewed grimaces: Tommy gripping his neck and heaving, Tubbo clutching an arm across his mid.

"You were never deserving of my friendship," Tommy growls. Despair of betrayal pushes words through the raw pain pulsating in his throat. "I should've just let you rot as worthless lowlife you've always been."

"Better be worthless alone than be used and tossed around by somebody like you," Tubbo spits, the unbridled anger in his voice enough to outlast an army.

Crossfiring glares of rabid fury, they lunge at the same moment. There isn't much sense to their hits rather than to get out the fury boiling underneath their skin. A perfectly indifferent prince, his perfectly poised aide. What a fucking joke, Tommy thinks, blocking a jab that would've otherwise shattered his nose. For over a decade of their friendship, this is the most real that they've been with one another.

Between the two of them, Tommy has always been a faster and nimbler fighter, but this isn't the training circle with plenty of space to move around and fair odds. Not counting rare rest interrupted by nightmares, he has been up and running for almost two full days now. Tommy's strikes grow slack, his movements slower. When Tubbo's hand slams his head ear-first into the wall, he slumps and stays down.