TW: SWEARING, YELLING, FIRE, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, TRAUMA, SHOCK
I wrote this hastily, sorry for any errors I was very excited to get this out :) <3
If you find any feel free to point them out and I'll fix them up next time I update :D
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I didn't expect the darkness to vanish when the door slammed shut. I leapt out of my skin and clapped my hands over my ears trying to drown out the sound. I squeezed my eyes shut to block away this place. This truly was limbo, the stuff of nightmares.
The was as hot as it was in the real world, if not hotter. The screaming was louder too. The smell of burning flesh and smoke and tumbling buildings thicker and trying desperately to choke me. The amour I was wearing was gone, replaced by clothes I burned when I got to L'Manburg all those months ago.
I need to find Tommy.
I force my eyes open and everything crashes into me at once. People rush past me pushing and screaming, some fall into the flames and continue to agonise as their bodies burn. Somewhere a lonely child screams.
I didn't expect the world to slow down as it did or for it to spin at the same time. I did expect the thickness in my chest and the dryness in my mouth. I expected tears to prick the corners of my eyes but instead, they stayed dry too. I couldn't move, couldn't think. I didn't expect to freeze.
This was something I never thought about, something I refused to think about. I pushed it as far back as I pushed the city and never gave it an inch. But here it was in front of me. Where my life ended and began in the most sickeningly poetic way possible.
My village. Burning.
A woman bumps into me and pushes me to the ground as she runs away. I don't feel any impact as I hit the ground. I didn't expect the people would be able to touch me.
Somebody else stomps on my leg forcing me to bite my tongue. I keep biting and close my eyes. I focus on the pressure instead of the burning.
Slowly, I push myself up and dodge the wild crowd of never-ending villagers. My feet are relentlessly slow and I battle to make them go faster.
I need to find Tommy.
He'll be in a meaningful place, that's the worst sort of torture. Perfect for limbo. The village centre pops into my mind. I didn't know Tommy before we ran away with Tubbo, but the village centre seemed to mean something to everybody.
I push past the swarm and make it to where the thin street opens onto the main street. Further along, I see the village centre.
But this time, the tree isn't burning. The tree isn't there at all. In its place is Tommy, curled up and alone with his knees pulled to his chest. My heart clenches as I see his pain. Even from a distance I know he's rocking back and forth trying to stop shaking.
All I want is for that pain to disappear.
Then the whole world is gone. My eyes widen and I glance around at our new location.
A meadow. I turn and see a small cottage behind me with a thatched roof and open paned windows. A sweet oak door and a cobblestone path that leads to it. Flowerboxes, a rocking chair and pale walls complete this magical world. Tommy now rocks back and forth at the base of a tree, from which a swing hangs.
Tommy. My legs finally kick into action and I bolt towards him.
"TOMMY!" I shout and skid on my knees as I come down next to him.
Tommy's reaction was just as energetic but far more fearful. His eyes are wide like a frightened mouse and he skitters back, head flicking back and forth in every direction. No doubt the sudden location change has shocked him.
"Tommy Tommy! It's ok! I'm here Tommy," words fall out of my mouth along with staggard dry sobs. Tommy's brain seems to register what has happened and his tense body relaxes only slightly.
He tackles me in a hug, his whole body shakes like an earthquake. We cry as we hold one another tightly, neither one of us keen on letting go.
"Thank you," Tommy wheezes profusely between sobs and shakes. I sit us up and rock back and forth with him running my hand through his blond hair.
"I'm sorry Tommy, this will only last for as long as I'm here with you," I blubber and curse myself for not keeping it together. I don't know how long I have here but I assume it's not long enough, I couldn't waste our time like this.
"I'm just glad you're here woman," he tries to lighten my spirits. I want to smack him for thinking about me instead of himself after the trauma he's been through.
"But how the fuck are you in here?" his voice trembles from the shaking.
"Tommy we're going to bring you back, I'm not leaving you for dead," my voice cracks but I force away the tears that are threatening just below the surface. Tommy hugs me tighter.
"Thank you," he says again burying his face into my shoulder.
I suddenly find myself glad he can't see as I spot a flicker in the illusion I'd created. The air flashes from clear and sweet to dark and smokey. Brief, but enough to warn me that I have to leave as much as I want to stay.
It had felt like I had been here for barely a few seconds, but I know it's been much longer than that.
"Tommy," I mumble and pull him off me so I can see his face. I wish I didn't, his expression comes close to breaking me. He looked so unbelievably desperate. Blue eyes that has turned red from crying and exhaustion, open-mouthed as he gasped for clean air as if he'd never breathed it before.
I suddenly know he'd been in here much longer than a few days. A few days doesn't kill a person like this. This is work that only time can do, lots and lots of time.
"Tommy, I'm sorry but I have to go," I feel myself start shaking.
"Y/N, please don't leave me in that fucking hell again," he begs and I choke back more sobs.
"Tommy I'm sorry it doesn't work that way. I promise I won't let you rot in here another day if I can help it."
"Y/N stop! Stay please," he grips onto the fabric of my clothes and I slowly force my legs to push me to stand. Tommy tries to hold on but he falls to the ground. My heart continues to shatter and I walk back slowly.
I go faster as he starts to crawl after me begging "please". I can only shake my head.
I bump into the door of the cottage and both of us freeze. We know it's my way out.
"I'm coming with you!" he cries and I feel my lip wobble.
"Tommy it doesn't work like that-"
"PLEASE Y/N COME BACK!"
"I'm sorry Tommy, I'll bring you home."
I've never slipped through a door faster.
****
I don't know how long I'd lamented in the empty hallway. My back leant against the very door Tommy had been behind, the wreckage of the city in front of me. I'm quiet now, no tears left to cry. I suppose that's good, I still have to see Wilbur.
Kritana was long gone, but I didn't need her. It was clear which door I had to go through next. Through the cracks of the door next to me was a soft red glow. None of the other doors glowed.
I tremble terribly and nearly fall again as I stand, leaning heavily on the door for support. I hold the handle of Wilbur's door and pause.
He's not the real Wilbur, I remind myself. You'll know who he is. I trust myself not to fall for his artificially sweetened words as I had in Pogtopia. I'm different now, stronger. I hastily wipe my eyes again and push open the door.
It was dark until I shut the door behind me.
This place was far different to Tommy's limbo. No screams, no fire, no death. It was cold and dim and stunk horribly, and it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before.
A circular tunnel left an opening on my left, at the bottom were railway tracks. The whole room seemed to curve with the walls of the tunnel. I stood on a grimy platform covered in tiles that had once been white. Above me, black boxes made letters out of dots that slid to the left.
I realised that they were spelling something. I only watched long enough to read Wilbur before I decided the letters took too long to pass on the screen. On the other wall there were more tiles but no tunnel or pit. Only lonely wooden benches made for two but seated none.
Although one bench did have somebody on it. On the other side of the platform, I spotted a familiar figure, a figure that brought joy and fear running down my spine.
"Wilbur?" my voice bounces off the walls perfectly. So perfectly that I heard it back three times before it faded.
His head flicks up in my direction, his glasses catch the dim red and blue lights making them appear solid for just a millisecond.
"Y/N," his voice is disbelieving. He stands.
He's still wearing his trench coat. Only now he wears his favourite yellow sweater underneath and a black beanie on his head. There's a patch with the flag of L'Manburg on his arm, the same arm is wrapped with a bloodstained bandage. The thing that catches my breath is the white streak in his hair. How long has it been?
"Y/N," he sounds more sure now and relieved. He opens his arms.
I told myself I wouldn't fall for it. I told myself to be strong. But Wilbur was one of my brothers and he meant the world to me. I ran into the hug and he catches me just like I thought he would.
The hug was something I had craved for a time that seemed to stretch out into oblivion. My arms are tight around Wilbur's neck and he lifts my feet off the ground holding me close to his chest. I was glad I had no more tears left to cry, but this hug made me want to wail.
It was a Wilbur hug. Distinctive in every comforting way. But at the same time, it was different. It wasn't warm like his other hugs, it was desperate. It wasn't him comforting me, but rather him comforting himself.
He wasn't Wilbur. I can't bring him back.
Wilbur puts me down. Neither of us knows what to say, but at least Wilbur asks an easy question.
"How are you here?" his smile is wide and gasping, something else that was crushingly familiar.
"I'm here to see you for the last time," I hesitate a bit. I didn't want it to be the last time, but I couldn't bring him back. He's not Wilbur, I worry he'll hurt somebody.
"You'll see me again Y/N," he smiles but I'm taken aback.
"What?"
"When you're dead!" he spread his arms wide gesturing to his limbo. He can see that I'm confused.
"Tommy was here, that knows I now. He disappeared a while ago though, we've been playing competitive solitaire," Wilbur grins wickedly and flicks out a card from nowhere. I watch him agilely toy with it between his fingers, flipping and twisting it until he eventually tears it in two and throws it in the air with a laugh.
He was totally mad.
"Don't look so worried! It's just a card. New one's keep turning up around the place anyway," he shrugs and then plonks back down on his seat. He sighs looking up at me and then pats the spot next to him.
I almost don't sit with him. The bench is cold and hard, just like this whole place.
"What are the letters for?" I ask pointing at the black boxes.
"Oh those," Wilbur waves a hand and puffs air between his lips like a horse. "They're stuff people in the overworld say about me. They're about this Ghostbur guy too. I don't usually bother reading them anymore. I used to."
Wilbur talks as if everything here matters to him as much as one grain of sand matters to a beach. Perhaps it does.
"Wilbur, do you remember everything?" Wilbur sighs now, a fraction of the man he used to be.
"I do."
"Pogtopia?"
"Yep."
"What happened to all of us?"
"All too well," more Wilbur in his words. Slowly, but present. I keep asking questions, easy questions. Questions I would have asked Wilbur before he went mad. I joke and make him laugh until I hear the old Wilbur coming back. Laughter was less crazed, happier, genuine.
Once I'm sure I can't bring him back any further I ask what I've wanted to ask this whole time.
"Wilbur," I say he hums in reply.
"Do you want me to take any messages back to the real world for you?" I ask gently. I watch my question sink in, he reacts in the way I hope.
"I don't know what I would say," I force back my smile. It felt exactly like something Wilbur would say.
"Anything you want," I wish for paper and a pen and then notice them by my feet. I pick them up and Wilbur looks at them confused, I shrug.
"Perks of being a goddess I guess," I joke and he laughs. My heart melts seeing him this way. Not perfectly whole, but the old part of him was visible, and it make me feel like flying.
"Alright then," he sinks to his knees and I hand him a bit of paper.
He uses the bench to lean on as he writes. We chat light-heartedly as he goes. Writing the letters and then folding them in half with a name on the top. He writes Phil's first, then Fundy, Techno, Tubbo and even Dream.
"Don't you want to write to Tommy?" I ask. Wilbur gives me a perplexed look.
"But I'll see him later," I force back the instinct to bite my lip. I hope I look nonchalant.
"I think you should write it anyway. You don't know when you'll see him again," I hated lying to him. Even the parts of him that were mad I didn't like lying to. Because he was still Wilbur.
"I suppose," he sighs like a child being forced to do his homework.
For Tommy's letter he writes a second page, then a third. He writes a fourth too but doesn't fold it up with the first three. He writes Tommy's name on it and I don't read the name he puts on the last one.
"Y/N, this one is for you," I feel everything in my tense. Only Wilbur would have written me a letter. The real Wilbur.
I was so convinced he was gone, but he was hanging on enough to write to me. I nearly wept with joy. Instead, I thank him politely and slip the many letters into my pocket.
We turn suddenly to the tunnel when a deep rumbling comes from within it. A massive tube like a bullet appears. It was made of iron and had windows. It roars and screeches as it slides its massive body to a gradual stop. It jolts back as it stops and then peels open its heavy doors.
On the floor, I notice something peculiar but I don't pay much attention. Wilbur looked distraught.
"I do believe that's your train Y/N," he says.
"Train?"
"This is an Old World train system, Phil had sketches of them in his office when I was a kid," he explains his limbo in a short sentence. I knew that limbo was so much more complex than that.
"I don't want to go," I admit. I didn't want to leave Tommy either. But the longer I stay, the more I risk damaging something. Wilbur pulls me into a final hug.
This hug wasn't like the first. There was no trace of the mad Wilbur here. This hug comforted me and was warm. This hug was one he wanted to give to me, not one he wanted for himself.
My Wilbur. My kind loving Wilbur had such a been place in my heart. I take a deep breath trying to remember his bookish kind of smell. Always warm, always beautiful, always thinking about the people around him.
"If this is the last time I ever see you Y/N, I'm glad we spent it like this," he says. I want to disagree. I would have wanted to spend our last time together in L'Manburg, with Tommy and Tubbo and Fundy and Eret and Jack and Niki. Just like we said we would.
All the toasts we had raised came to my mind. To freedom, liberty, legacy, history, being the heroes of our stories. All our training and hours in the van. The uniforms, the fighting, the smiling, the laughing. All of it. Everything with Wilbur, my brother and leader.
"I'll tell your story, Wilbur, your real story," I pull away with that promise. Wilbur's eyes are teary, I know it's all he's ever wanted. Someone to tell his story the right way.
"We all will. We love you," I smile sadly at him, he smiles back.
He's there, my Wilbur.
"History has its eyes on you Y/N," he salutes me. I salute him back. At heart, we were both soldiers, fighters.
I force my legs to carry me into the metal bullet. I watch Wilbur through the window. He sits back on his seat and his glasses seem to be those solid blue and red circles again. He smiles and waves.
The train lurches forward and I grip onto a yellow railing as it rattles. Then he's gone.
I turn my attention to the stuff I had noticed on the floor of the train earlier. A blue, liquid substance. I kneel and touch it with my fingertips.
I gasp and reel away from it as it darkens at my touch.
Ghostbur. A symbol of Wilbur's unfinished business. Of Wilbur's unfinished symphony. I can't help but smile.
I guess his business wouldn't go unfinished after all.
****
I step out of the train and back into the hallway. This time Kritana is waiting for me with her hands clasped carefully in front of her.
"I see you brought something back," she nods to my bulging pocket. I can't help but wonder about my letter
"Wilbur's last messages, I hope that's alright," Kritana nods.
"He was a beautiful boy, he deserves his last words," we smile at one another.
She opens an arm to guide me down the corridor once more, my visit finished. She takes me under her arm, I don't mind the comfort. It had been a trying day, to say the least. But I still had questions that burnt.
"Kritana, are my parents and Freya in limbo too?" I ask softly. Kritana only smiles.
"No dear, they're in a place far above the pits of limbo," I feel a weight leave my shoulders. The weight had been brief, only settling when I exited Tommy's room, but it was certainly one of the heaviest I had ever carried.
It was all I needed to hear.
As we near the end of the hallway, Kritana slows and turns me to face her. I watch as she creates a purple flame that dances for a split second in her palm and then fades revealing a book. The leather was black and decorated elegantly by gold accents. There was no title.
"This holds instructions to revive Tommy," she breathes heavily and holds the book out for me. We look at each other seriously and I grab hold of the book but don't take it just yet.
"Y/N, I'm entrusting the most powerful item in the whole world to you. This book is designed to revive people, but if studied enough it can do so much more. It must be destroyed after you've used it, it's far too dangerous to keep it intact. You are a goddess, you must vow to protect this with your immortal life until it is destroyed."
"I promise," I swear wholeheartedly. Kritana understands my seriousness and lets go. I cradle the book to my chest already worrying that something will happen to it.
"Kritana, if I'm a goddess, do you know where I come from?" I ask the question as it enters my mind. Kritana shakes her head.
"I was separated from the gods a millennia ago by Hades. I haven't heard a peep from them except for the news about the destruction of the earth, but that was centuries ago. I know it's since regrown," I sigh disappointedly. I don't know what I expected.
"Did you know Ranboo's family?" I ask instead.
"I lived separately from the Enderians and let them flourish on their own. Most of my time here is spent in the obsidian casing. I find it so much better to let them grow on their own and then visit occasionally to see what's changed," she must notice my expression because she sighs and thinks for a moment.
"I do recall rumours though, of a child with strangely coloured skin," she shrugs letting me know that she knows nothing else. But I needed to know the answers.
"Was he loved? Please tell me you know if he was loved. It would mean the world to him," I almost beg her for more.
"One of the parts of Enderian culture I am most proud of is the love parents had for their children. Large families were common. If nothing else, I'm sure Ranboo was loved by his parents dearly as well as whatever siblings he may have had."
The words hit me slowly. Ranboo had siblings. He could have been the oldest, but there was something about the image of baby Ranboo surrounded by curious siblings and adoring parents that made me smile.
I feel my heart sink a little when I think of Kritana having to leave Techno as a gift for Phil rather than being able to help raise him herself.
"Thank you. I'm sorry that you had to leave your family behind," Kritana only smiles.
"I've never been able to decide if I regret leaving the overworld. I would have never known of the destruction of the End. It does make one wonder," she sighs as if the concept had crossed her mind endlessly. I didn't doubt that it had.
****
Kritana opens the wall and the bricks reveal the others milling about in the middle of the hall. At the sound of the churning bricks, they turn and watch the two of us. I move to join them but Kritana grabs my arm.
"Y/N, just remember that if you ever need another god to talk to, you can reach me through Phil's crows," she smirks but I'm confused.
"But how?"
"I have my ways," she winks and I chuckle a little.
"Don't doubt your abilities Y/N, they were gifts from the gods. You're not liable to typical rules of mortality," Kritanas words serve only to give me more questions
"How can I die then?"
"To another god, or if you wish it, I can shorten your life and make it mortal. All your decision, but I wouldn't bother thinking on it just yet," I nod understanding what she meant. I have a lot of work to do.
"Thank you for your generosity," I try to be graceful but Kritana waves me off.
"You're family," she says simply. Her eyes light up and her mouth forms an O shape as she remembers something.
"Nearly forgot," she chuckles and reaches into the deep purple pocket of her dress. From it, she reveals a small pouch.
"Chorus fruit seeds. Fruit that only grows in the End, but I think you'll manage just fine in the overworld. I have a feeling Ranboo isn't very fond of regular food?" I chuckle again and shake my head taking the pouch gratefully. She laughs too.
We rejoin the others in the centre of the room. It was time for us to leave and we all knew it. I didn't want to leave Tommy in that horrible place any longer.
Kritana hugs Phil with a big sigh.
"I wish we had more time together," she mumbles, Phil chuckles trying to lighten her spirits.
"I'm glad I got to see you again," he says honestly. I feel someone stand at my side. Dream had forgone his mask and I smile at him. I love seeking his freckled face. He leans down and presses a peck on my lips that makes me smile wider.
Kritana goes over to Techno and presses her hands to his face again like she did when we arrived.
"Do not doubt your strength, you can fight every battle. Even the ones in your head," she kisses his forehead. Phil, Techno, and I are the only ones who understand what she truly means.
"I will," he promises strongly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to watch you grow up. I love you all the same," she smiles sadly and gives us all one last look.
"The portal in the city centre will be open for you," she bids us farewell.
We watch as she walks back to where she stood earlier. Obsinite seems to read the room and stirs waiting for her master to return. Kritana slowly grows back to her giant size and plants her feet where they were before.
She smiles and bows her head casting a shadow on her face with her broad veiled hat. Her palms face the ceiling as they did before and she closes her eyes. Obsinite wraps around her ankles and then slowly turns to solid obsidian. The rock seems to race up Kritana's dress covering her legs and then her stomach, chest and arms before encasing her delicately featured face.
The world was quiet again.
~~~~
HELOOOOO
GUYS WE HIT 100K ON WILTING MARIGOLDS HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE ACTUAL HECK I MEAN WHAT???!?!?!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I cried so much when I found out. I never in a million years thought that would happen. So in honour of the occasion, I pumped out a chapter for you guys :D
Thank you so much for reading! It means the world to me <3 <3 <3
I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING MORNING/DAY/EVENING/NIGHT <3 <3 <3
MWAH MWAH MWAH
You're amazing and talented and beautiful and epic and pog and you're good at shit and you're valid and cool and you're just an amazing amazing amazing human fucking being.
Stay hydrated and remember to eat good food!