[I've been on hiatus due to finals but now I'm back! Woo!]
[Also this might be one of my favorite chapters that I've ever written (: ]
[TW: character death, graphic descriptions in general...?, self hatred/degradation, sexual actions.]
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"Momentary relief is worth the aftershock of pain clawing at my skull for purchase."
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"Sure, Toms. Consider me in." I laughed a bit, smiling at my communicator. Hearing my bedroom door upstairs open. Letting me know Tech was waiting. "Mainly for supervision though. I don't want anyone dying."
I heard the blond cheering, rushed promises of 'responsibility' leave his mouth before the line went dead. He never changes. Or at least he acts like he doesn't.
I left my communicator on the kitchen counter, walking upstairs and already taking off my own cloak and earrings. By the time I entered my room Tech was already folding his shirt and leaving it on the dresser.
I couldn't help but laugh, just leaving my cloak on the floor and tossing my earrings on my bedside table. "Since when have you folded your clothes in situations like this?" I raised an eyebrow, voice full of humor. "You usually toss them on the floor."
Not shockingly, this wasn't the first time we've been in this situation. Makeup sex had apparently become our forte somewhere along the line in our friendship, or whatever you'd call us. That or what Phil deemed makeup violence, the blond just tosses us our swords sends us outside and waits for us to come back bloodied and bruised.
The only time Tech and I can ever seem to properly find middle ground is when our emotions are at an all time high apparently. At least middle ground when it comes to whatever the fuck Tech and Phil have been keeping from me all my life.
Sex or combat apparently brings us back to ground zero, the disagreements glossed over and shoved under the rug until it happens all over again and the wound becomes fresh once more.
"Eh." He shrugged, beginning to take off his rings and leave them on the bedside table next to my earrings. Leaning down for a moment and kissing my cheek. "Dunno, felt better to fold it." He then seemingly thought for a moment before leaning down again and kissing the corner of my mouth.
"Strange." I joked, the out of character action throwing me for a loop for a moment.
"I'm sorry." He began, and I knew he would repeat it probably a hundred more times in the next hour alone. "I really am. I wish I could fix everything right now. Just-" He began to sound kind of frustrated, something bubbling over. "Let me just fuck you and forget all of this."
I was tired of hearing it. Tired of hearing earnest apologies only for them to go uncared for with no actions following them. Promises sealed with a kiss only for the same promise to be repeated over and over due to failure to enact. "I should have known better than to love a God." Is all I said in response, and he almost had the gall to look remorseful.
"I wish you didn't." He mumbled, running his hands down my waist. "I think you'd be happier if you didn't."
Even though I'm the one that started those thoughts in him, even though sometimes I regret the first time I kissed him. Because I know it would lead me here. I hate hearing him say things like that. "Stop that." I looped my arms around his neck. Making him lean down so I could peck his lips.
"What?"
"Saying things like that. I'm- as much as we're a disaster. And believe me, I know we are, I still love you. Don't regret that, please." I watched him smile just a bit, but it was enough. "As much as I might cry and yell- I really am happy with you and Phil out here. Of course I'm pissed and I wish you would choke out whatever the fuck you're hiding. But I'm happy with you."
I felt him kiss me again, thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of my shirt. His hands still resting on the sides of my waist. His lips were soft against mine, it was all delicate. "I don't regret lovin' you, or you lovin' me, I promise. And- and I'm happy if you can find happiness in all of this." He had pulled away from me to speak, but I could feel his words and the breaths he took brush against my face. He was still close. So close. "I just feel guilty sometimes."
"Guilty?" I questioned, reaching further behind him and slowly undoing his messier braid. I needed to redo it.
"Like I'm takin' you away from someone who can be better for you. You're mine but sometimes I feel like you deserve better." He confessed it so quietly I almost didn't pick up on it properly. I just now held the red ribbon in my palm that formerly sat on the end of his now undone braid. "Like Eret." He choked out his name like it was a sin. "Or- or someone like him. Niki even, you two are so close-"
I kissed him again, cutting him off and making him close his eyes. I could feel his hands shaking. "No." I spoke against his lips, holding him even tighter. Then pulled away to properly speak, feeling him rest his forehead against mine while he caught his breath. "Just you. It's always been you. I don't regret you. I should have known better than to love you at my younger age, but I know better now and I'm still here because over time I've gotten to know you."
"You barely know who I am. What I am. What's even going on." He moved his hands so they were on my back now instead of my waist. Tugging me close and holding me tight.
"I love what I do know." I assured him, and I think I almost heard him begin to cry. His voice breaking before he could properly speak in response.
"I'm so sorry." He mumbled like a mantra, and I knew I would hear it at least a hundred times in this hour. Just like I said.
He slowly moved me over to the bed, just laying down and holding me close. I did the same with him. He was curled around me, as if shielding me from the world. The upsettingly funny thing is the only person he had to shield me from is himself. If I can even call him a person. We both silently knew that but I chose not to comment on it.
"Tech?" I said his name without much conviction, and I heard him hum in response. Telling me to continue. "Want to just sleep for a bit?"
I felt him nod, and hug me tighter before letting go with one of his arms. Taking just a moment to tug the blankets over us. "Just promise me this." He mumbled, voice a bit muffled since he had pressed his face into the back of my neck. Having moved us so his chest was against my back.
"Mm?" I questioned.
"Please, don't feel tied down to me. Don't feel like you have to wait for me. I wouldn't forgive myself if you missed the opportunity for happiness because you felt some kind of responsibility to love me." His voice kept dying out as he spoke, the usual husky tone sounding almost watery.
"Tech, I tried to love someone else. You saw it happen and you choked it down and bared it. I came back to you anyways." I placed my hand on his, it was resting on my stomach.
"But I didn't." He squeezed me even tighter, and I could feel tears press against the back of my neck. "I took advantage of you Ti- Torva, you were scared of me. I broke up you and Eret. I ruined it. You loved someone else and I ruined it."
I was silent, "You sped up the process, yes. But I think it would have ended inevitably. He just didn't trust me in general."
I felt him nod against me. "Alright."
"I wish you would just tell me what you're hiding."
"I wish I would too."
❧
When I quietly left the next morning, refusing to tell Phil or Tech where I was going they didn't push. I think they knew at this point I decided I owed them nothing.
So the two Gods had no idea moments later I was standing side by side none other than Tommy and Ghostbur. It had been ages since I'd seen the ghost, blue tears and coloring staining everything about him. Yellow sweater doused in the bright aqua color with a bright smile on his pale grey face. Tommy just as excited bubbling with joy.
The blond was clutching a netherite axe in calloused but young hands. Hands far too experienced for how short of a time they've been in this world. Tainted with shadows of spilt blood I've seen him scrub raw to get the feeling off of. He never accomplished it of course, as soon after he learned the feeling wasn't the dried blood under his finger nails. It was the looming shadow always on his back whispering trails of guilt into the teenage mind. The teenage mind he carries upon a quickly matured body, forced to act as an adult before he could legally drink at the political meetings Wilbur Soot dragged him to.
Moments later I saw Ranboo and Tubbo approach, the duo holding hands and talking in hushed voices. It didn't take long for them to join us in the small watch tower Tommy had created not too long ago. I didn't watch him create it, but word always spreads fast around here. The watchtower was conveniently right next to Pandora's Box. Waves lapping at the black stone, and a salty breeze wafting from the shores. Sand a bit darker than it should be due to months of pollution caused by redstone machines Sam created to run the hellhole.
I just hope nothing escaped Pandora's Box anytime soon, as we all know the myth. Once something escapes, there's no getting it back in.
"So you lot know the deal then, yeah?" Tommy asked, brushing some hair out of his face. The blond and white strands having been misplaced by the sea's breeze. "Oh well I actually haven't explained much, have I?"
Ghostbur blinked, then smiled even wider. "Well- you just told me I need to be here." His voice sounded like an echo, transparent skin still shining with underlying blue tones. I don't know if it was naturally like that or if the dead man was around the color so much it stained.
"Well, let's go over it then." I suggested, Tubbo nodding in agreement. I was barely able to see him out of the corner of my eye. "The plan that is."
Tommy took out his bag, opening it to show it was empty. Then looked to Tubbo. "Do you have the pots, big man?" The blond asked, Tubbo shaking his head and gesturing to Ranboo.
"He does." Tubbo replied, having let go of Ranboo's hand and now was stood near Tommy. Ranboo opened his own bag in response, beginning to load a plethora of fire resistance and invisibility into Tommy's bag.
"I have wither skulls in my enderchest if you need 'em." I added casually, watching the three teens freeze up for a moment before relaxing again.
"I don't wanna blow it all up anymore." Tommy explained, gesturing to the prison behind him. "You know how nobody expects Wilb- Ghostbur. Ghostbur." He repeated, the ghost's smile falling for just a moment before replacing itself. "He's innocent y'know! Very pushed around."
"I'm a big strong man." Ghostbur retaliated, crossing his arms. Only for his eyes to light up and get excited when Ranboo held up some blue. Ghostbur had probably given it to him a bit ago. That 'big strong man' facade shattering like glass in an instant. He then immediately looked to Tommy, eyes still bright. The ghost dug into his blue stained pockets, pulling out some and shoving it toward Tommy. "Have some blue, calm yourself." He spoke in that echoed tone, smiling even wider when Tommy happily took the blue.
"Thank you." Tommy said softly, then looked back to Tubbo, Ranboo, and I. "I know I spoke about fuckin' blowing it up- the prison. But, I did a lot of thinking last night and it's just not gonna work. But I've organized it, and we're gonna have Ghostbur go in. I needed the pots so I can sneak in after him! Invis and Fire res-" Tommy was speaking so quickly it was almost hard to keep up.
"So you're going to follow Ghostbur through during a visit to kill Dream?" I repeated back to the teen, wanting clarification. He was attempting to explain but bits and pieces were being lost in the process. His mind moving so fast it was hard to keep up.
"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Tommy asked with a prideful laugh, though I don't think he really wanted an answer. He already had his own thoughts on whether or not it was a fantastic plan, he seemed extremely sure in himself and every step of this idea he had forged.
I was kind of proud too. "Yes, Toms. It's a good plan." I gave him an answer anyway. Ghostbur cheerily clapping his hands in response. Clasping the cold dead and gray fingers together happily. The ghost clung onto every word Tommy spoke like it was the word of a God, even though I knew he was just a mortal.
I would one day bury him.
I fear that it will be one day soon.
Tommy may not be Phil's true son as Wilbur is, but I think he's close enough. He's close enough that I feel responsibility for the boy. That I fear for him going into that prison, following Sam around with invisibility potions flooding his system. Tommy was enough of Phil's son and Wilbur's brother to have followed Wilbur even through death.
It may not be by blood, Tommy may not be Wilbur's brother by blood, but I've already established far earlier into my life that blood means nothing. Blood is split just as easily as water, it may be thicker but that just makes it a mess to clean up afterward.
"So I follow Ghostbur into Dream's cell, y'know! Under invisibility, of course! I have the Axe of Peace-" He paused, looking to me with underlying fear. Tubbo and Ranboo both froze up, looking at me.
"Keep it." I said coldly. It hurt to choke out the words, and I may love Tech with every fiber of my being. The kind of love I'll say is uncertain but know truthfully deep inside anyway.
But I hate him just the same. And it festers more with each passing day I spend unknowing. Unknowing of who or what he is.
Who or what I am.
What we are.
That when I think of him I no longer think of just him. I think of us. Us. Two combined. Like he no longer stands alone, I no longer stand alone. He's always there, I'm always there. It's a package deal and I'm utterly terrified and hating of it because I don't know what that means.
"I'll use the Axe of Peace to finally bring justice to this land." Tommy said, all of his conviction suddenly back after my words. Tubbo and Ranboo smiling in response, the enderman hybrid nervously tapping his foot.
"It sounds like a good plan." Tubbo said cheerily, then looked to Tommy's left hand. He had been holding a totem, probably as precaution. He's always been holding it lately. "Just make sure you aren't holding your totem, the invisibility potion won't hide anything you're holding."
Tommy gulped, reluctantly nodding and putting the totem in his back pocket.
"So... we don't like Dream...?" Ghostbur said, sounding a bit confused. Head innocently cocking to the side. Tommy inhaled sharply, Ranboo frowning with Tubbo clenching his fists.
"No. We don't like Dream, Ghostbur. He's only caused peril- pain- he's the worst thing to ever happen." Tommy immediately rushed out, mouth moving faster than his brain. He was watching Ghostbur's expression, and I could see Ghostbur hesitantly nod. Uncertain.
"But- but we only take one of his lives. Okay? Just one?" Ghostbur asked, empathy clearly taking hold of his senses. Gripping him to a point of no return. Nothing like the real Wilbur. The one I actually respected. "Only one."
"Ghostbur he only has on-" Tommy cut himself off, then delicately smiled. Placing a hand on Ghostbur's translucent shoulder. "Yeah, Ghostbur. We'll only take one. Late April fools prank."
Ghostbur smiled all over again, features just as bright. "Oh! Okay! Just- just to remind him to not be bad! No more being bad, Dream!" Ghostbur said cheerily, everyone just nodded. Either not having the heart to correct him or just wanting for Dream to die already.
"Yeah! Yeah!" Tommy said encouragingly. "And under no circumstances tell Sam I'm there. And if you can? Lie."
Ghostbur's expression shattered yet again. Leaving him to pick up the pieces. "Lie?" He cracked out, voice small and dead. "Lie?" He repeated, shaking his head. "I- I- can we practice? Can- can- can I practice on Ranboo? Lie? Lying?" He was falling over his words, hopefully walking up to the tall teen.
Ranboo looked down at the ghost worriedly. "Uh- uh sure. Ghostbur, welcome to my prison. Do you have anything on you?" Ranboo asked, trying to act as serious as possible.
"Oh- yes!" Ghostbur said loudly, voice tensing up.
"No-" Tommy sighed out.
"Oh Gods." I muttered, running a hand through my hair. Looking hopelessly at the dead man.
"Ghostbur- just- don't give him anything and I don't know. Say something about women." Tommy laughed out, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Though, I wish I could say I was shocked.
The ghost nodded more confidently then looked to Ranboo. "I do have things on me! But- I like women!" The ghost said proudly, and Ranboo put a hand over his mouth. Muffling laughter.
Tommy burst into loud cackles, and I held back a snicker. Tubbo was laughing softly too. "This is going to work!" Tommy shouted only somewhat assuringly.
"Yeah I think that'll work." Ranboo chuckled.
"We got this in the bag." Tubbo said after, shaking his head with a small smile.
"Oh, definitely." I replied, nodding along with them.
The ghost looked bewildered. "Tommy- Tommy can you promise that they- they won't try and revive me?" Ghostbur said nervously, and suddenly the entire atmosphere darkened.
"Let's not say that r word, Ghostbur." Tommy said immediately, putting a hand on Ghostbur's shoulder. I couldn't help but notice how much the dynamic shifted between them. This part of Wilbur was so much like a child, it's like Tommy was the older brother now.
"As long as you stay safe and have a contingency plan this should be fine, Tommy." Tubbo spoke up, Tommy looking away from the ghost and instead to the horned brunet. Ranboo stood right at his side.
"Uh- what's that word?" Tommy laughed awkwardly.
"A backup plan." I explained, Tubbo and Ranboo nodding. "Do you have something to ensure that if this goes wrong nobody fucking dies, basically."
"I- have the totem? I have the fuckin' comfort totem." Tommy joked, pulling the totem out of his back pocket and flashing it to us. Then slipping it back to his pocket again.
"That's a good backup plan." Ranboo smiled, Tubbo nodding and I just shrugged.
"Good enough." I added, Tommy taking out an invisibility potion in response.
The blond finally sighed. "You three stay here, okay? We'll- we'll leave Ghostbur's stuff out here. This shouldn't be long." Tommy smiled again, this time more wobbly. A smile that's helped countries rise and fall, a smile that's fooled many and worried many more. A smile that never seems to be genuine no matter how hard he tries.
Tommy hasn't really smiled in years.
I haven't seem Tommy truly smile since the day I met him, since the day I saw him at Eret's cottage. A sheen of hope over his face like friend's wool, wool expertly spun by Wilbur Soot and placed over blue star-struck eyes. Tommy never noticed, not until his eyes were full of tears with shadows of blood behind them. Not until his senses were full of nothing but death and a burden on his back with the weight of diamond and iron armor.
Of course he didn't know the weight of netherite.
Wilbur Soot never gave him something of that caliber.
Nevertheless he took Ghostbur outside of the watch tower we were in, carefully helping Ghostbur step by step unwind the leash from around a fence post. Pressing the lead into Ghostbur's hand with a loving smile full of adoration on the blond's features. Scanning over Ghostbur's innocent and unknowing one.
Ghostbur pressed against Tommy's side, matching his steps and taking Friend with them the whole way to the prison as us three watched. Tubbo and Ranboo silent, standing in front of me.
The average person might think Tommy was a forgiving soul, so forgiving as to carefully watch over the man's ghost who tortured him day after day. So forgiving as to brush blue stained hair out of Ghostbur's features so he could see as he walked his blue sheep to the prison. The childlike dead-man following Tommy's every word as he spoke, believing every well spun lie the blond crafted.
I don't think it was forgiveness.
I think those spun lies to get Dream killed was only the wool Wilbur Soot spun and gave Tommy all those years ago. Tommy saved that wool, and has only placed it back over the man who spun it. Maybe Ghostbur's hands were different, maybe they didn't place those lies in Tommy's ears and block his vision of the manipulation Tommy endured. Maybe Ghostbur's hands didn't put the sword in Tommy's at the ripe age of sixteen.
But deep down inside of Tommy I don't think he cared, even if he didn't realize what he was doing to the ghost.
Some people can heal with time.
Other people can only heal with the feeling of revenge. The kind of revenge that festers until you choke on it, spiting up bile late nights after you wake up from nightmares. Reliving day in and day out the feeling of words whispered in ears and actions gone uncorrected.
Tommy is the latter.
And Tommy already has wool pulled over Ghostbur's eyes as he brings him into that prison, the next step is to drive an axe into Dream's skull.
We all know that.
Tubbo knows that, Ranboo knows that, and I know that because I'm just like Tommy. We aren't two sides of the same coin, we are the same side and we live in tandem. That's why we hate each other deep down, and that's why we've made the other bleed more times than we can both count.
We don't like what we see when we look in the mirror, and we've both wished we were someone else.
So there isn't a single reason why when we look at each other, that we would like what we see. We are the same person, and we both hate ourselves and everything we stand for.
But at least that means we have something in common.
❧
Day turned to night faster than I realized, as it didn't take long before Ranboo, Tubbo, and I were sat outside of the prison entrance together. At some point we had begun to get worried, theorizing what could possibly be taking so long inside that prison.
We were sat in a circle, Ranboo and Tubbo holding hands with the smaller leaning against the enderman hybrid. "Gods, you two make me feel like a third wheel." I joked, lightly shoving Ranboo.
"Ay! You should be happy for your son!" Ranboo pouted teasingly, Tubbo throwing his head back and laughing loudly in response.
"I mean you and Technoblade seem to be going just fine." Tubbo said casually, and I kind of cringed in response, the goat hybrid making a hissing noise in response. Looking awkward. "Oof... not going well?"
"Eh-" I made a so-so motion with my hand. Shrugging. "It's- it's going that's for sure." I laughed out, the two teens laughing all over again. At least I didn't ruin the mood.
Something else definitely did though.
Because through the land shrouded in twilight, darkness closing in on our senses as the hours passed, a blond ran through the doors of the prison. Bewildered and breathing heavily. He was gasping for air, hair a mess and blue staining his white and red shirt.
Ranboo stood up first, reaching his hands down and courteously pulling both Tubbo and I up to our feet. We all looked concerned, and Tommy seemed to be at the brink of tears. Disbelief written on his face and he blindly reached up to his hair in an attempt to fix any pieces sticking up. It was a fruitless attempt though.
"Guys...?" Tommy cracked out, voice dead and hoarse. Friend being held weakly in his hand with a lead.
"Hi Tommy." Ranboo greeted, voice as soft as he could make it. Waving in a small manner after he let go of Tubbo and I. Firstly making sure we were standing up just fine. "Where's- uh- where's Ghostbur?"
"Is he coming out?" I asked, then I realized something. There wasn't any blood on Tommy. And I know Dream wouldn't go down without a fight. That's something I know from experience.
"I think he's dead." Tommy gasped out, voice heavy as he gripped the lead in his palm like a lifeline. "I think he's dead." He repeated again, lifting his hands to his face. Running them down his cheeks as if to check he was real.
"That- isn't possible?" Ranboo said uncertainly, none of us really processing anything Tommy was speaking at first.
"He is." Tubbo agreed, and then Ranboo and I made faces of realization. Trying to help Tommy calm down.
"He is a ghost." I commented, Tubbo and Ranboo smiling in response. Tommy just shook his head, over and over and over. Beginning to stare down at the ground below him. Grass under his feet Friend was currently softly chewing on.
Tommy paused, staring at us three. Mouth open as he failed to find the words. "No, you don't understand. It's not that he's dead, it's that Wilbur's back." The words were heavy on his tongue, coming out with breaths as he was borderline hyperventilating. They spilled out as if he hated to have them behind his teeth, molten lava burning his lips as he spoke.
We were all silent, thoughts flowing through my head that I couldn't pinpoint properly. Ideas of happiness that the Wilbur I knew had returned, he was capable and someone I respected. Worry that the very foundations and dynamics of this land would change at it's core due to him. Knowing that chaos followed the man wherever he went, blazing trails in his wake others would claw at, nipping at his heels. Wilbur was a figurehead, but a broken one with cracks people are too terrified to repair, fearing that the foundation might come down if touched.
Tubbo was the first to speak. "What?" Was all he said, and I don't know if there was much else to say.
"What do you mean?" Ranboo echoed his husband's words, and yet again that question was all we needed.
"Wilbur as in the fucking President?" I said more harshly than I meant to, but I think it fit the situation anyway.
"As in press the button and blow up Wilbur?" Ranboo continued, Tommy just beginning to walk away. Dragging Friend with him. The poor sheep not understanding a single thing that was occurring. Tommy was breathing heavily, taking us all toward L'manburg's crater.
"No- no you don't understand." Tommy didn't even look back at us, just continuing to walk forward in utter shock. His expression hasn't changed, or the fact that in between sentences he's jaw dropped.
"Then explain it to me!" Ranboo insisted, trying to catch up with Tommy. The blond speed walking ahead of us, the sheep just getting dragged along for the ride. All of us now on the Prime Path.
"Toms, breathe!" I shouted as well, Tommy still on the verge of hyperventilating and not bothering to listen to my words. Eyes bloodshot from near sobbing, the sun slowly beginning to rise. It had been so long since he entered that prison.
"We- we went in the prison to kill Dream." Tommy stuttered over his words again, then went silent, not finishing his thought. Words airy as he continued to walk quickly. Tubbo just observing in shock.
"Yeah?" Ranboo urged him on to speak, insisting the blond continue his words. We were all dumbfounded with a mix of confusion and concern.
Tommy took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking. "And then- and then- and Ghostbur died." Tommy gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before forcing them open. Continuing to take us to L'nanburg's crater. "And Wilbur was revived."
"Did you see Wilbur?" I asked, part of me not believing and part of me sure Tommy was in some kind of shock. It was clear something happened, but unclear if Tommy was saying something entirely truthful.
Tommy turned around, stopping us all in the middle of the Prime Path. "Wilbur is BACK. Ghostbur is DEAD." He shouted, Tubbo, Ranboo, and I silently looking back and forth between each other. Making eye contact as a kind of 'you see this?' All of us not really understanding how Tommy was being so aggressive.
But at the same time, if what he's telling is the truth I'm probably going to be acting very similarly soon. For very different reasons.
"What do you mean. You mean the Wilbur? As in your friend?" Ranboo asked, taken aback by Tommy's aggression.
"We are not fucking friends, Ranboo." Tommy's expression fell, no longer confused or angry. Just still, stagnant in a neutral look. At least now I knew all of the wool was gone, tugged off and abandoned. He knew Wilbur as a person.
"I mean I know he did some bad stuff." Ranboo said nervously, Tubbo patting him kindly on the shoulder. A silent show of support for the taller.
"Wilbur was nothing." Tommy breathed out, looking wondrously up at the sky now. As if he wasn't entirely there. "I spent so long with him when I died, I thought he changed. Every time I thought he changed. But, Ranboo." His voice changed from that breathy tone, full of adoration similar to how he'd speak to Ghostbur. Now it was hard, face morphing back into that anger. Confusion gone. "He never changes. Ranboo, he never changes."
He continued to walk, gesturing for us to follow again. "Oh." Ranboo said simply, Tubbo and I silent. Friend let out a small baa. Oblivious.
"And if he's dead he'll be at the place he died." Tommy said harshly, walking picking up speed into a brisk jog.
"Oh gods." Tubbo gasped out.
"L'manburg." Tommy spat, now almost running. Friend barely keeping up with the speed. Tubbo, Ranboo, and I now in a run.
"Oh gods." Tubbo repeated.
Ranboo was looking so empathetic it hurt, shaking a bit as he ran. He was so nervous, probably spiraling. "Maybe he's different." Ranboo said to Tommy hopefully. "All that time in the afterlife might have changed him."
"Yeah!" Tubbo smiled, but we all knew it was fake in attempt to help Tommy. To do anything for the blind at all. None of us knew how to comfort him, there wasn't any way to comfort him.
"Time moves differently in the afterlife, Toms. You know that, I know that from when I died for a few moments. That's a lot of contemplation for him." I assured, but I was lying through my teeth. We all knew Wilbur wouldn't be changed into any good in the afterlife. Wilbur Soot thrives off of spite, and we all know he's spiteful of himself. All that time on his own festers.
Spite grows like a disease.
Spite of a failed nation and spite of his own failures as a person. Wilbur Soot is a now walking, now living, and now breathing piece of festering, spitting, and gnarling spite.
"He isn't different, I've been there and he is so much fucking worse." Tommy only ran faster, choking on the words like they were suffocating him. He kept gasping for air and I don't know if it was the face paced run or the despair wracking his teenage frame.
And we all knew what he just said before he even spoke, we just didn't have the audacity to say it. Nobody would but Tommy, because he was there.
We ran into the crater, and across the top. It had been coated in a thick layer of glass just recently, Eret had told me at the banquet how he had passed a bill allowing it. He thought it would be a good memorial.
We all looked up, right at the room where Wilbur had blown up the country. And at first, hope sparked within us. He didn't appear to be there, his memorial stood proudly with no signs of life.
Until a figure walked around the back.
A deep brown trench coat flowing in the soft breeze whistling over the crater, and a white bandage coated in blood wrapped around his arm. There was an ever present smirk on his face intermingling with old scars and spruce colored eyes, and a familiar yellow sweater hugging pale damaged skin. Round glasses rested on an angular nose complimenting brown curls covered with a signature beanie.
A single streak of white dappling the front.
Wilbur Soot's hands were stuffed in his trench coat's pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips like it belonged. It probably did.
He lifted up a single scarred hand, nails with dirt packed under the gaps. He lifted the cigarette from his mouth, smoke billowing out from him and joining the breeze surrounding all of us. The breeze making my hair lift in the wind.
He smiled, something sinister and familiar all the same. A smile that enjoined crowds and had countries bow. A smile that directed armies and made blood stain the grass below their feet. A smile that had me captivated due to the stories and years behind it.
We were all frozen, the figure familiar and foreign all at once.
"Oh." The word was simple, and yet it locked into all of our memories and replayed like a mantra. "Hello again." The dialect was smooth against my ears, itching a scratch I didn't know existed. Nothing like the ghost that had haunted this land for months. Wilbur Soot was a leader, and I didn't want a leader. But at least he was respectable. At least he was worthy to speak my name and for me to have stood at his side for wars.
My blood was spilt for his name and even though I didn't stand by him initially for the right reasons, even though I had been a traitor. My blood was spilt for him on my own accord, and if he had the right cause I know I would do it all over again. I may be an anarchist but at least I would know to follow a man if he shared my values. Wilbur Soot shared my values. And Gods was I glad he was back in the realm for the living.
Tommy didn't share my sentiment. "You fuck!" Tommy shouted, letting go of Friend's lead. Leaving Ranboo to grab it.
"Is this real?" Wilbur asked smoothly, slowly lifting the cigarette back to his lips with gloved hands. The fingers exposed.
"Yes! Yes it is!" Tommy screamed, fists balked at his sides. Voice desperate and hurting, full of grief for someone lost and grief for someone now living.
Wilbur raised an eyebrow, then looked down to the blue sheep. "What the fuck is that?" He asked, as he spat the words smoke left his lips. I watched, still processing his appearance. "Gods I feel so numb."
Tommy shoved some blue at him, having walked up to the man. Wilbur lifted his hands and refused it, taking a step back from the blond. "What the fuck is that?!" He looked disgusted, shoving Tommy away. "Obviously I've missed a beat, what the fuck is all of this?!"
"Take some blue and calm yourself!" Tommy said desperately, still gripping the objects in blue stained palms.
Wilbur walked away from him, not acknowledging the teen. His figure slowly becoming bathed in orange and red light, the sunrise dipping over the mountain and onto the man in the living. Footsteps echoing on the glass and his skin no longer translucent. Revived and anew, obviously Dream had pulled some strings in that prison whatever happened.
Wilbur looked down as he walked up to Tubbo, Ranboo, and I. Hissing as if in pain, looking down at the crater through the glass. "Oooo... damn. Did I do that?" He let out a borderline manic laugh. "Oh that is not a good look! Is it?" He looked up now, and I don't know exactly who he was asking. I don't think he wanted an answer. "Oh, dear. I really did a number here." He continued laughing, grinning wildly with brown and white hair sporadically framing his face. "Tubbo you've been running this place?! I thought I gave you a suit man, you are not dressed like a President." He looked back to Tubbo, Tommy following Wilbur and trying to speak. Each time he was cut off. What's new?
"Like you said, you missed a beat." Tubbo said simply and a bit harshly, hands in his pockets. His jacket clearly from Snowchester with large horns growing out of his brown fluffy hair. He was dressed like he was from Snowchester, but how would Wilbur know that.
Wilbur then looked down at his hands, cigarette falling from his fingers and onto the glass. He began laughing even harder, body shaking with the spastic and manic laughter. It was loud and echoing across the crater, throwing his head back as it only increased in tempo and volume. "Holy shit! I'M ALIVE!" He shouted as he laughed, then looked to Tommy. "I'm alive! I have spent thirteen and a half years in the fucking-!" He cut himself off, lifting hands to his mouth and running them down his jaw and stubble.
"You're alive." Tommy echoed dully.
I observed as Wilbur looked up at the obsidian grids above L'manburg, weakly held up with pillars. He was still laughing, turning away from us now and beginning to walk on top of the small hill above his memorial. Where the button was. "What- what is this? Some art? Some geometrical art? Have you all been doing art?!" He was laughing even louder, running hands through his hair and down his face again. Touching his features as if to make sure they were all there.
"No, you didn't blow this up. Techno, Dream, and Torva-" he was cut off. Wilbur wasn't even paying attention to anything he was saying. Wilbur Soot didn't care about Tommy.
His eyes then opened widely as he saw the sun. "Oh- oh Tommy the sunrise!" He screamed, running faster up the hill and watching the sun. Basking in the rays and holding out his arms as if welcoming the heat and its beams. "I have lived thirteen and a half years in darkness! This is my sunrise! This is mine! This is mine!" He was yet again speaking rapidly and manically, words spilling out so fast they were almost slurred.
"Will it isn't yours!" Tommy shouted.
Wilbur ignored him.
He instead turned to us three. Walking down the hill and to us. "Tubbo, Torva, and- and who are you?" He was still smiling, cigarette burning next to all of us on the ground where he dropped it.
"It's Ranboo." I spoke finally and firmly, Wilbur now staring at me. He reached for me, clasping my hands in his. My handle of the scythe that I was holding caught in the middle of our palms.
He was laughing once more, this time more quiet and breathy. "Some new faces?" He asked, his hands were clammy and cold. "I have so much to do with you." He spoke softly to me, though his voice was still raised and his eyes were opened wide.
"Wilbur! Where's Ghostbur?! Is he in you?!" Tommy shouted, Wilbur letting go of my hands to face the blond.
"Ghostbur? Oh- oh I know of him." Wilbur laughed out, Gods he was always laughing. In these few minutes he's done nothing but laugh. "Remember our time in limbo, Tommy?" He changed the subject.
"It was the worst time of my fucking life." Tommy spat.
"It was the worst time of my fucking life!" Wilbur screamed, reaching for Tommy and grabbing his shoulders. Dirty nails digging into the teen's skin. "Describe it. Describe it for me-"
"Void." Tommy said the single word. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh- oh I suppose it's different for everyone." Wilbur smiled wide, letting go of Tommy and turning away from him yet again. I think dismissing the teen is a habit for him, one he has no intention of breaking.
"It was my childhood home." I spoke up, suddenly interested by the topic. Wilbur's eyes lit up as he looked to me, eyebrows raising in interest.
Wilbur nodded. "Mine was a train platform. No matter where I look, no matter where I went. Just concrete walls all around and a tube with a track running straight along. No matter what I did, Tommy, Torva, I could pound on the doors, I could claw at the walls and scream for help. I screamed until my lungs were sore and my voice was hoarse. And nothing ever changes, nothing ever helps, nothing ever comes for you." His eyes had looked away from me, as if he was staring off into space at nothing. "And then you, Tommy, showed up. And it was great! But then you got on a train and you left." He looked a bit shattered as he said that, as if he had to take a moment and pick up the pieces he left scattered around us. Recollect himself and his thoughts. "And the last thing I saw was a train pulling in." He spoke slowly now, smile returning and his eyes slowly looking back at me and focusing. Then looking to Tommy, the blond having a look of terror on his face. "There were two people on that train."
Tommy took a deep shaken breath, and we all internally knew what he was about to say.
"One man and a desaturated me rolled into town, into my limbo. He's in my limbo! He came rolling in! His face was steaming with tears!" He had no empathy as he spoke, but I couldn't blame him. I don't have much of that myself. "They looked like they were burning him? I don't know."
Tommy looked disgusted, some tears finally escaping his eyes and hitting the glass below his feet. Spattering against the surface in a broken melody and they slowly dripped off his chin faster and faster. Joining the unfinished symphony that tainted these lands.
"You know who else was on that train? Conducting the train that let me out, Tommy?" Wilbur said it tauntingly, and Tommy let out a cracked sob.
"Who?" He managed to barely get it out in between ugly cries.
"Dream, Dream was conducting that train." His grin somehow turned crueler. Knowing exactly what he was doing to the boy. "My hero! My fucking hero!" He threw his hands in the air, then slowly walked back up to me. "He saved me from that hell I wanted to die!"
"You're hero?!" Tommy shouted, cries stopping for just a moment for soul crushing anger to escape like a toxin. Like the smoke still leaking from the cigarette at my feet. I knew the brand, I had been stealing Wilbur's cigarettes for months. He kept a stockpile in his old room in Pogtopia.
"I know what hell is like! Oh- oh Tommy I've been given a new lease on life!" Wilbur put his hands down, hands patting his pockets frantically and pulling out a new cigarette and his flint and steel. Lighting it and inhaling deeply. Forgetting about the one discarded. "There's so much I need to do, Tommy. There's so much I've got to do. There's so much." He turned back to me, running up quickly and cupping my face.
His fingers were calloused and slightly less cold, as if blood was getting familiar to running through his body with a steady pulse. He tipped my head to it looked up at him, worn gloves scratching at my face. "I'll be back for you, there's so much I need to do. I have a lease, Torva. A new lease."
All I could do is nod as he slowly let go of my face, smoke from his lips pouring out and tainting my senses. The smell familiar and welcomed.
"Will listen to me!" Tommy shouted, axe of peace dangling limply in his palm. "There have been things you've missed! These lands are a wreck, Will. Countries destroyed and relationships ruined! People are scarred, Will! But you, you Will were the cause of all of this pain and trauma that so many people around here went through. So you fucking have the audacity to come here and tell us to change?" Tommy's teeth were bared, face twisted into rage. The grip on the axe slowly tightening.
"Are you trying to make me feel bad? It's not going to work." Wilbur laughed out, beginning to simply walk away. "I have a lease on life Tommy! You can't make me feel bad! If life's a horse by Gods I'm going to ride it, Tommy!" He was farther and farther away now.
I watched his hair and trench coat sway in the breeze, smoke from his cigarette and lips as he smoked joining the wind around him.
He disappeared down the other side of the hill surrounding this land, all of us left quiet and in shock. Processing bit by bit what we experienced. A small baa leaving Friend's jaws.
Ranboo then looked to Tommy, expression hard and unreadable. He opened his mouth to speak, teeth sharp and jaw wide. Red and green eyes half-lidded and tired from the long night.
"The hell did you do?"