Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tommy has known he was Tubbo's soulmate ever since they were betrayed in the final control room.

He has known ever since a sword was driven cleanly through his back and Tubbo collapsed in the corner from a suddenly identical wound opening up across his chest. Right where a sword emerged from Tommy’s own. 

It felt unreal, realizing that despite how sure he and his family had been that he would never have a soulmate, he did. And it was Tubbo. Despite Philza's theories about the lab he was made in, about how because he was technically an artificial being, the universal force that tied one creature's soul to another wouldn't have been able to be created within him. Tommy had mourned the prospect of being alone for a few years in his childhood, but eventually came to terms with it. He didn't need Prime to tell him who he needed to be bonded to, he was perfectly fine without the responsibility that came with sharing his lives. 

But his recklessness had come to an end with a sword in the back, with the knowledge that despite it all Prime had chosen someone for him. They had chosen Tubbo.

Tommy has known he and Tubbo were soulmates ever since refusing a duel offered by a green-clad tyrant, hand gripping his bow tightly as he considered the invisible threads keeping his and Tubbo's souls intertwined. Instead of more of their blood on his hands, Tommy offered his and Tubbo's discs, the closest he had to actual, physical proof of his and his soulmate's bond. 

He has known ever since feeling the stings of suddenly-opened glass cuts all over his body while holed away in Pogtopia as Tubbo arrived through his secret tunnels and swore everything with Schlatt was fine.

Tommy doesn't think Tubbo noticed how the blonde was staring at the bandages on his arms, on the exact places Tommy’s glass cuts appeared. Tommy doesn't think Tubbo noticed how the awful stench of alcohol clung to him, how his too-large suit was drenched in it. 

Tommy never pointed any of these out to anyone but himself, but made sure he spent as much time with Tubbo as possible to keep him away from Manburg's dictator. 

Tommy has known he and Tubbo were soulmates ever since he threw an enderpearl onto the stage where his best friend was getting executed, arriving seconds too late as the boy was blown up by his own ally. Tommy remembered the blind panicked scramble to Tubbo's body, intertwining their hands and hugging his collapsed friend close as the boy's blisters and burns scorched themselves in the same places on Tommy’s own body. 

When they both woke up with one less life, Tommy swiftly lied about arriving on the stage just in time to be hit with the fireworks exploding, dying alongside Tubbo. 

He did not mention the raw agony as every inch of his being was set ablaze even before the burns had been able to brand his skin. He did not mention the torture of being the one to die second, of all of Tubbo's terror and betrayal and confusion and hurt manifesting not only with the scars on his skin but in every sensation he felt in within himself, every feeling within his soul.

Tommy has known he and Tubbo were soulmates ever since he fought Technoblade in the pit. Only halfway through, he'd realized not only was he getting hurt, but Tubbo was too. He decided to focus on evading as much as he could, every breath labored and pained as he knew Tubbo would be feeling every hit too.

Eventually both him and Techno were exhausted, and Tubbo called off the fight. Tommy noticed how the boy was breathing heavily. As if like Tommy, he was out of breath.

Tommy has known he and Tubbo were soulmates ever since the goat-hybrid sprouted his horns, and though Tommy did not grow identical ones, he felt the pain of the nubs protruding out of his scalp, and the phantom feeling of imaginary horns just like his soulmate's followed. 

Luckily for Tommy, neither Tubbo nor the rest of Pogtopia questioned why he had picked up Tubbo's newfound instinct to headbutt things. 

Tommy has known he and Tubbo were soulmates ever since L'Manburg had been destroyed, the scars from even more explosives and attacks from withers painting not only his, but Tubbo's skin in a mass array of reds and blues and purples that took weeks to finally fade into fully healed marks of battle.

Throughout the years, Tommy had always known of his and Tubbo's bond.

The hardest part of it all, was to make sure that Tubbo didn't.

-

Tubbo had never felt the need to search for his soulmate.

He honestly felt it was odd how so many were transfixed on the concept of a soulmate, as if a person the universe decided they must be bonded to would resolve every issue in their lives. Tubbo has always disliked the idea of his life depending on some invisible stranger, of being forced to treasure an individual he might never get to meet just because it was decided he must. 

Despite not knowing who his soulmate was, Tubbo knew they were reckless. He was never surprised to find scratches or faint bruises on his skin from whatever accident his soulmate had gotten into. He's accepted the sudden injuries as part of the norm at this point. And honestly, he had no right to be upset at his soulmate. It was because of him they had already lost two lives, and he'd never even gotten the chance to apologize to them. Minor injuries could not compare to the pain he'd caused them.

Some part of him wished he knew his soulmate, had the chance to know the person the universe had chosen for him. Part of him wished he already knew his soulmate, that they'd just never discovered their bond. But most of the people he knew had already discovered their soulmate or didn't even have one. Tubbo remembers a young Tommy telling him he would never have a soulmate because he was made in a lab. Even Philza didn't think an artificial soul like his would be able to develop a bond.

Tommy has never seemed to mourn the fact he'd have no soulmate, but in recent years Tubbo has noticed his friend valiantly avoiding the topic like the plague. Instead, Tommy devoted his energy into L'Manburg and even more into his never ending battle against Dream for his discs.

Their discs.

Tubbo didn't know how to feel about the discs. On one hand, they were simple pieces of plastic, incredibly simple to replicate with their standard childish tunes. They didn't feel like they were worth the amount of effort put in to secure control of them. 

But on the other hand, the discs are what had caused Tommy and Tubbo to truly fight side by side for the first time. The discs were their first victory, something that happened less and less as time progressed. Tommy had once dubbed the vinyls as his and Tubbo's personal soulmate bond, and Tubbo knew how much they meant to his friend. To both of them.

But he also knew Tommy had been blindsided in his attempt to retrieve the discs, his tunnel vision leaving the rest of his sight skewed when a situation didn't revolve around the vinyls. It led to his best friend getting himself trapped in troubling scenarios. 

It was part of Tubbo's own justification for exiling Tommy. His friend needed to learn to focus on the bigger picture, to lessen the hurt of the entire nation instead of letting himself be blinded by two pieces of plastic that in the end couldn't compensate for the damage that would be caused in his mad scramble to regain them. Tubbo understood the sentimentality, and he understood Tommy’s rage at their most prized possessions being used as a constant bargaining chip to keep him in line. But he was tired of the wars and hurt that followed whenever they chose to pursue two vinyls instead of peace. 

Even if he missed the comfort of his best friend clutching his hand after nightmares, even if he ached for the blonde at his side during cabinet meetings, even if he hated how alone he felt with Tommy’s absence, he had responsibilities now. He had to do what was expected of him. And that was keeping their nation safe.

Even if he could hear the mutterings of citizens as he walked through the docks in an ill-fitting suit, even if he could practically feel the way the gazes of his people tearing into the back of his head like claws, he would devote himself to his country, no matter the cost. 

Strolls around the pier never seemed to help improve his eternally sullen mood, but they seemed a fair distraction. Ahead of him, Squeeks trotted along the wooden platforms, glancing back at him when he lagged behind too much. Tubbo kept a steady hold on the fox's lead out of some strange paranoia, and continued gazing across the sturdy rails of the pier and into the lake below. Colorful fish darted through the waters, weaving through gentle cold waves and flowing seagrass. Bits of coral jutted out from between mossy rocks, adding bits of vibrancy to the lake. Light reflected off the water's surface in a colorful array of light. Many L'Manburgians had taken to the new abundance of water swiftly, with the docks from the beach extending to the lake to improve fishing and boats. He and Fundy had assisted in building a large vessel powered by redstone to assist in fishing, and more and more redstone creations spread through the land.

The most recent additions had been the lanterns, programmed to be able to float all on their own and paint L'Manburg in colorful hues. They'd been added along with countless Christmas decorations and the arranged, almost constant, shoveling of snow and ice from the piers. 

Unlike some of L'Manburg, Tubbo wasn't the biggest fan of the cold and he deeply mourned each cloudy day. The absence of warmth and light only further contributed to the newfound chill of loneliness that clung to him. Even the sun had left him. 

"Underscore," a voice called coolly from behind him, causing Tubbo to practically flinch as he whirled around to face the newcomer. He kept his expression neutral as he stared up to meet the fake eyes of Dream's mask, the man's head tilted ever so slightly with his hands in his pockets. He looked perfectly relaxed as he met the ram's gaze, body language revealing nothing. Tubbo also noted the man was wearing armor, but said nothing. Squeeks paused at Tubbo's side, the fox staring at Dream with his ears pressed against his skull. Squeeks was usually far less skittish with strangers, but the fox quickly recoiled at Dream's presence. 

Tubbo greeted the man carefully, lifting his chin to meet Dream's gaze. "Dream. What're you doing here?" He prodded bluntly.

Dream didn't reply for a moment, before landing his hand on Tubbo's shoulder in a friendly gesture. Tubbo resisted the urge to pull away and tell the man to fuck off. "Just checking in on a fellow leader." Tubbo winced. 

Ever since Tommy’s exile, Dream seems to have developed an actual respect for him. The man claimed it was due to Tubbo proving himself as a capable president, able to make the right choice no matter how hard it is. Tubbo didn't buy into the words, or at least tried to. The praise felt alien, the genuine appreciation Dream claimed to have for his competence made something inside him feel warm.

Even Tommy hadn't respected him as a leader. 

Tubbo resisted the urge to grimace as he thought of the boy's last phrases. Of comparing him to their nation's former president, the man who tormented him for his entire time in office. 

Tubbo was unable to suppress a terrified whimper as the wine bottle collided with the wall, shattering into pieces a few inches from him. Glass bounced around, flying across the room and a few pieces grazed his face. Tubbo was grateful for his abnormally large and thick suit for protecting him from more damage than a couple cuts on his cheek. He fell to his knees, curled around himself in terror. 

Schlatt's laugh echoed across the office. "What the fuck, man?" He sneered, getting up from his seat and approaching Tubbo, casting a horned shadow over the boy. "How pathetic was that?"

Tubbo forced himself to his feet, grimacing as his knees protested. The glass had dug through his pants, ripping the fabric and leaving behind scrapes. Fat tears slid down his cheeks, shaking as he forced his gaze to meet Schlatt's mocking grin. 

Schlatt finally made his way to him, harshly tugging at his hair and ruffling the somewhat tidied curls. Another hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it enough that it hurt.  "What the hell, kid? Why are you even crying?" 

Tubbo tried to stop the onslaught of tears with little success, pausing his shudders when he realized Schlatt wanted an answer. "I-i don't know." He whimpered. 

Schlatt let out another cruel laugh, and Tubbo grit his teeth. He raises his hand from Tubbo's head to comb through his own hair, lifting a brow when Tubbo flinched at the movement, closing his eyes and bracing for a hit. Tubbo opened his eyes slowly, being greeted with more laughter. 

"You're pathetic!" He said, between wheezes. "Learn to take shit like a man."  

Tubbo opened his mouth to try and apologize, only to be paused as the door to Schlatt's office opened to reveal Quackity. The man paused as he took in the scene in front of him, biting his lip carefully. 

"Schlatt," He greeted with barely suppressed rage. "Let him go, man." 

Schlatt flashed the newcomer a grin, releasing his grip from Tubbo's shoulder. It took him no more than a second to dart to Quackity, who motioned for him to leave the room. Tubbo nodded, heading for the door.

"Oh, Tubbo. Before you go," the president called, Tubbo whirling around to face him with red, puffy eyes. "Don't be late with the paperwork again."

Tubbo slipped out of the office, refusing to let himself break. 

"Tubbo?" Dream's voice cut through the memory, a hint of what Tubbo thought was concern in his voice. 

"Ah, sorry." Tubbo muttered, blinking a few times. Squeeks was pressed against him, the fox practically crouching in front of him and letting out demanding chitters. Tubbo understood, and opened his arms, allowing the canine to jump up and be held. Tubbo dug his hands into the fox's fur, eternally grateful of how easily it helped him stay grounded. "Just feeling…off, today." 

"Well it's quite cold, and you seem ill-equipped for what seems like soon to be snowfall." Dream said, head tilted up to the clouds. Tubbo followed his gaze, sighing as he realized how impossible it was to catch even a slight amount of sky-blue beyond thick clouds. He mourned the loss of summer's warmth. Dream was right about his apparel, though. He was wearing nothing beyond his too-large president uniform, and it was fucking freezing outside. 

"You have a house, right?" Dream asked. "I don't mind continuing this conversation indoors, you seem like you need to warm up." 

"I have my office." Tubbo replied quietly. His house felt far too empty to reside in, far too cold. The bustling sounds of L'Manburg were gone inside the cabin, leaving Tubbo in the chilling cold with only his thoughts.

There was nothing Tubbo hated more than being left alone with his thoughts.

"Lead the way, Mr. President." Dream's voice was cheerful as Tubbo carefully nodded and headed towards the white house.

-

Tommy felt like shit.

He felt like shit a lot these days, but that didn't take away from how particularly shit he was feeling at the moment. 

He woke up to nothing but cold and the smell of salt, his body aching in protest as he managed to sit up instead of remaining miserably collapsed on his sorry excuse of a cot. His thin woolen blanket pooled in his lap, and Tommy silently mourned the fact his actual sewing tools weren't with him, instead rotting away in some chest in his house. He hadn't gotten the chance to take any belongings with him, instead being left to gather whatever he can now.

Part of him is glad he didn't bring his sewing tools. His stomach churned at the thought of the neatly decorated box of needles and thread he'd been gifted from Eret years ago in the bottom of a pit, moments away from being destroyed by Dream's TNT. 

He grimaced as he stood up and exited his tent, dull eyes squinting at the light outside. Even if the sky was full of murky gray clouds and sunlight was nowhere to be seen, Tommy’s tent had been a dark contrast to the outside. The boy shuddered, crossing his arms and gripping his torn sleeves as a salty breeze blew across the plains. Logstedshire was a beach, but the winter's cold clung to it like any other place. 

Tommy sighed. He used to like winter. Winters in L'Manburg never lacked warmth and camaraderie. But now, the chill in the air did nothing more than remind him of how truly alone he was. 

No, not alone. 

Never alone. 

Tommy shook his head, refusing to let himself spiral further. He fished a pickaxe out of his inventory and promptly ignored its poor design and durability, the iron harsh and rugged. It would do, he didn't need it for much, and he could always craft another one. He headed down the paths he'd created with a now-broken shovel towards the tree marking the start of his underground mine.

Dream would arrive soon, he needs enough iron for armor. 

-

"How about we play a game of chess?" Dream offered. Tubbo tilted his head. The two had arrived in his office, luckily not encountering anyone on their way to the room. Tubbo opened the thick dark-oak doors, setting Squeeks down as he did before turning to Dream at the masked man's strange request. He prepared to deny the offer, before a chess board materialized from Dream's inventory, along with a small woven bag full of what Tubbo assumed to be chess pieces.

Tubbo nodded, the realization that Dream wasn't asking rippling through him. 

The masked man smiled behind his mask, sitting down in front of Tubbo's table and placing the wooden board on the hardwood surface. Tubbo took his seat as Dream spilled the pieces onto the board, sliding the white ones to Tubbo's side. The ram grit his teeth as he realised he would have to begin the game.

He didn't even know why Dream wanted to play chess with him, why he was even here. He didn't realize "checking in" included testing Tubbo's strategy in board games. But the masked man had never not been strange, so Tubbo elected to just play along.

"I'd like to warn you, I've never actually played before." Tubbo lightly chuckled, almost wincing as he realized he was showing nervousness over a chess game.

"I'll go easy on you." Dream reassured, thoughtlessly organizing his pieces as Tubbo fumbled with his to mimic the position of Dream's own.

"Thanks."

"You know what each piece does, right?" Dream asked, placing the final piece, a pawn, on his side of the board.

Tubbo nodded, glancing from his own pieces to Dream's to make sure their positions were right. "Wilbur used to play." 

The mention of the former president brought up a weird feeling in Tubbo that he quickly shoved down, ignoring it for his own sake. He couldn't show any weakness in front of Dream. 

Tubbo remembered Wilbur’s old board, pieces expertly carved with different types of wood to signify each color. Wilbur had said his father made it, keeping the board in one of the chests in the Camarvan along with a cloth bag full of neatly detailed pieces. He'd tried to teach Tubbo and the others chess so he'd have an opponent, but only Fundy really took an interest in the game.

It was a shame, maybe if Tubbo had spent time to actually learn the game from Wilbur, he'd be more prepared against Dream now.

"Oh?" Dream tilted his head. "So you do have a board?"

"His board was blown up with old L'Manburg." Tubbo replied bluntly, a hint of satisfaction at the fact he caught Dream off guard. It wasn't a lie, the board was long gone, blown to bits like many other relics of old L'Manburg. "Besides, he didn't play much." Tubbo added, another true fact. Wilbur had been far too busy once L'Manburg was granted its independence to play board games. From below him, Squeeks had curled up beside his chair, light sniffles coming from the now-asleep fox.

"Shame." Dream sighed. "Next time, we could've used his board."

Tubbo ignored his words, placing one of his knights as his last piece. "I'm ready to play," he said. Dream didn't reply, only nodded and signaled for Tubbo to begin. 

Tubbo moves forward the pawn ahead of his queen, looking over at Dream cautiously. The man had no visible reaction, instead only mirroring Tubbo's move with his own pawn.

As Tubbo makes his next move, Dream decides he isn't content with silence. "How've you been?" He prods. Tubbo grits his teeth, silently making his move.

Dream doesn't even think before making his own, barely even giving the board a glance as Tubbo scans over every piece he can. "These past few days must have been rough, I'm sure-"

"How's Tommy?" Tubbo cuts him off quickly as he moves one of his knights. Dream is quiet for a moment, and Tubbo debates if he made the right move. 

"He's been fine," Dream answered finally after several moves full of silence from both of them. He's almost nonchalant as he places his bishop in a prime place for Tubbo to take with his knight. Tubbo eagerly takes it, a small grin forming on his face.

"He's angry, though." Dream continues, pausing Tubbo to pause. "Physically, he's doing good, but aside from that.. he's hurt. Yelled at me and Bad when we visited." Tubbo is silent, but his expression reveals enough of his guilt for Dream to notice. "I think he just needs some time to adjust."

Tubbo nods, his glee from earlier completely gone at the thought of his friend. He wanted to visit, really! He would if his burn marks he thinks are from his soulmate hadn't appeared on his arm, causing it to ache the entire day. He would if the sudden limp he'd gained, probably also from his soulmate, would go away.

He would if he wasn't a coward who was too afraid to face what he had done. 

He was snapped away from his thoughts as Dream swiftly took his knight with a rook he hadn't even noticed.

"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the good of all your pieces." Dream made himself clear. Tubbo shifts uncomfortably, understanding that the man wasn't only talking about chess. Maybe that was why Dream had invited him to play, to attempt to teach him some sick lesson, or to try and soothe his guilt over what he did to Tommy.

Whatever it was, it only made Tubbo squirm in his seat with guilty unease.

Tubbo grits his teeth as the game progresses slowly, eventually putting his knight in a good position for a check, taking Dream's advice and placing his queen in a prime position for Dream to take. The man falls for his trap, and Tubbo feels a bit of pride in himself. 

"Check," he calls. Dream is silent, moving his king diagonally away from the line of fire. Tubbo continues his attack, sparing a glance to the rook he has perfectly in position as long as Dream continues his escape. 

Dream suddenly brings up his queen, who Tubbo had completely ignored in his chase after the king. Tubbo panics slightly when he realizes he can't move away, cornered by one of Dream's knights.

"Checkmate," Dream says, smug and satisfied by his swift victory. 

Tubbo frowned. Dream's getting used to triumphing over him.

-

Tommy was tired. 

A few weeks had passed since his exile, since Tubbo had stared down at him from his place on the obsidian walls, his pained expression hidden as he tilted his head away from his best friend and requested that Dream lead Tommy out of L'Manburg. 

Tommy hasn't seen Tubbo since. 

Dream has been visiting a lot, at least. Almost daily. 

He'd been forcing Tommy to drop his inventory in a hole he dug at the start of every visit, blowing it up in front of him and then whispering comforting words to him while bandaging the burns Tommy had gotten from standing so close to the explosions, or any other injuries he gained during the day. 

Tommy had fought him at first. 

The wounds still hurt, even after Dream had cleaned up the blood and wrapped them with bandages, scolding Tommy for being disobedient and selfish. 

He argued with Dream, he screamed and hit and used every insult that came into his head. But it would never work. Dream was stronger than him. 

And at this point, what reason was there to fight? What reason did Tommy have for spitting insults and sloppily throwing punches at Dream? The masked man had told Tommy he was his friend. He updated him on L'manburg's status, helped him collect resources, even if many found themselves at the bottom of a hole after Tommy found a new way to piss Dream off. 

Tommy felt a pang of guilt in his chest whenever he disappointed Dream with his stubbornness. Whenever he hissed that it was all Dream's fault or refused to hand over his armor. Dream was kind to him, why does Tommy have to fuck that up? 

Not only had he continuously made Dream's life harder, he caused Tubbo pain. Every one of Dream's strikes would reflect on Tubbo, the pain transferring through their bond. 

Has Tubbo found out by now? Does he resent Tommy for causing him hurt? For keeping their bond a secret for his own stupid insecurities?

The blonde shook his head, burying it in his arms. His brain felt all fuzzy again, his thoughts too jumbled and foggy for him to make anything out. 

Tommy used to hate the nether.

The air clawed at his lungs, stuffed with ash and sulfur. Heat clung to his skin and the red mist that shrouded the hellscape hurt his eyes. Tommy had always protested when he needed to enter the hellish dimension, grumbling about the unpleasantness of every single biome or about how each crossing through the portal left him with a headache.

Now, the nether felt like a comfort. An escape from the frigid cold of the overworld, of the suffocating gloom of Logstedshire. 

Tommy was cold, even in the nether. 

He let himself sit on the edge of the netherrack cliffs, legs dangling weakly over the edge. His eyes were transfixed on the orange pools of molten materials that swirled beneath him, of the lava that carried so much warmth a deep part of him begged for it to swallow him in a warm embrace.

Logically, he knows what would happen if he tried. But the thought brushed past him, whispered of the promise of eternal warmth right below him. 

"Tommy!" A distorted voice echoed, and Tommy tilted his head to face the ghost of his brother. 

"Hey, Ghostbur." Tommy called, not even trying to force optimism into his voice. The ghost noticed his sullen mood and frowned. 

"The nether isn't a good place to stay for our vacation," his brother mused, scanning the red barren wasteland. "Are you okay?" 

Tommy shrugged, unable to tear his gaze from the lava, which only bubbled as if inviting him. 

"I.. I don't think you should sit so close to the edge." Ghostbur stammered, voice laced thick with concern and emotion that the ghost hadn't displayed in a while. Tommy sighed. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, he tore his shifted his gaze from the lava and to his brother, a smile still etched on the ghost's face as he extended him a hand. Tommy took it as Ghostbur helped him get to his feet, frowning when Tommy stumbled on his weak leg and quickly shifted his weight to his other, uninjured foot. He offered Ghostbur a quick thanks, forcing himself to limp towards his nether portal as his brother followed.

Tommy forced back a wave of nausea as the swirling purple particles of the portal swarmed his vision, only releasing him when he was back in the overworld. Fog swept over the shores of Logstedshire, shrouded the horizon in thick smoky layers of grey. Tommy frowned.

Ghostbur was quick to follow, placing a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The ghost seemed confused for a moment, Tommy noticed. His brother's eyes were closed tight, and his brows were furrowed in what seemed to be a mix of focus and frustration. 

"Ghostbur?" Tommy called, ignoring his own discomfort of the cold, half-corporeal hand gripping him. The ghost perked up at the sound of his voice, eyes immediately wide open as he released his shoulder. Tommy watched as Ghostbur scanned his surroundings in confusion and panic. 

"Tommy? How did- I was in the nether hub.." His brother's voice was thick with something akin to fear, a faded hand coming to wipe at the constant wave of blue tears streaming from his eyes.

"It's alright," Tommy reassured. "You came to visit, and you must've zoned out on your way. Happens to me a lot now, it's fine!" It felt wrong to lie to his brother, but Tommy didn't want to worry the ghost any more than he had already. The last part hadn't even been a lie, technically. Tommy was barely conscious for most days, floating through monotonous tasks.

"Oh!" The ghost perked up at that, smiling once more. "That's good."

"Yeah," Tommy said, forcing a smile on his face. 

Ghostbur turned to Tommy, squinting as he scanned over his brother. "You're hurt." He said, worry seeping into his voice. 

"What?"

"Your arm!" The ghost exclaimed, and Tommy almost jumped back in surprise. He stared down at where his anxious brother pointed, wincing as he noticed the fresh burns from smoldering nether rocks.

"It's fine." He replied, ignoring the guilt eating away at him like a ravenous beast. Another mark that would soon transfer onto Tubbo, brand itself into his best friend's skin and with it bring along a stinging pain. 

Part of him couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment towards his friend. Tommy had been facing far worse injuries practically daily now, yet his friend had been unable to make the connection, unable to even care. He knows Tubbo had no way to know that he was the one being hurt. He knows that especially with how far he's gone to hide their bond, he can't be mad at Tubbo for not knowing. But it still hurt, far more than the burns lining his skin.

To Tubbo, the person getting hurt was a stranger, he wanted his soulmate to care.

"Tommy?" Ghostbur called, snapping Tommy from his guilty haze of grieving a bond only he knew about. "What's wrong? You're.. crying."

Tommy blinked, confused as he felt wet droplets sliding down his cheeks. God, even the thought of Tubbo was enough to bring him to tears, how fucking pathetic was he? That just trying to think of his estranged best friend made his mind flood with emotion. 

He wanted help, he wanted someone to know he was hurting and for once to tell him it's okay . He wanted his grief to be justified instead of being thrown into a stone pit and told to channel his anger into something useful for once and fight .

"Ghostbur, can you keep a secret?" He asked, voice wobbly. The ghost tilted his head, eyes kind. 

"Of course, Toms! Are you alright?"

"No," Tommy hissed, falling to his knees on the shores of Logstedshire. Ghostbur joined him on the ground instantly, taking his messily bandaged hands in his own translucent palms. "No, Tubbo's my fucking soulmate and he left, and everyone left and I'm all alone and I can't fucking tell anyone because it's my job to keep everyone from getting hurt, it's my job to not be selfish, but I'm hurting !"

Ghostbur's soft hold of his hands turned into a gentle squeeze, his brother running a hand through his hair and leaking blue onto his messy curls. 

"You're.. you're soulmates with Tubbo?" The ghost asked, voice full of awe. "Well- we should've known! You two were always attached to each other, I remember!" 

The excitement in Ghostbur's voice made Tommy’s gut churn. "Tubbo doesn't know. He can't know. Ghostbur, please! Promise me."

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled, Tommy-"

" Promise me!" Tommy raised his voice, tearing himself away from Ghostbur's comforting hold with a snarl. The ghost frowned for a moment, before nodding. 

"Alright, Tommy. I won't tell him." Ghostbur finally said, his voice laced with a hint of defeat. "He does miss you though," he added.

Liar, Tommy thought bitterly.  

-

"Tubbo!" A voice came from behind him, reminiscent of a faint echo carried along the breeze. Tubbo was not surprised to see Ghostbur when he turned around, standing behind him on the wooden platforms that made up L'Manburg's streets. Tubbo was currently perched on one of the upper platforms that led out of his office, leaning on the railings and observing the bustling city  full of his citizens going back and forth on the docks below him. His view was partially obscured by his long brown hair that he'd neglected cutting, but there wasn't much he needed to truly pay attention to in the early mornings. Watching over the docks was more of a distraction than anything.

Ghostbur frowned slightly when he saw him, something akin to confusion and concern lining the ghost's features. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't slept."

Tubbo shrugged. Ghostbur was right in his assumption, Tubbo had been awoken by nightmares almost as soon as he managed to force himself to go to sleep. 

The bright artificially colored flames of fireworks still flash in the back of his mind as he tried to force his breathing to steady, keeping quiet so he wouldn't disturb anyone else nearby. 

"Tubbo! Tubbo, Tubs, you need to breathe, alright?" His best friend's voice echoed in the back of his mind, so painfully missing from his current surroundings that it hurt. Tommy had always been at his side for nightmares, wrapping him in a comforting hug without complaining as Tubbo buried his head in his chest and squeezed him so tight he had once had the fear Tommy would be unable to breathe. His best friend would stay with him for an entire night if so needed, whispering comforting words and rambling about whatever he could think of to distract Tubbo from the echoing sounds of fireworks going off in his mind.

But Tommy was not here. Tubbo was alone. 

The fireworks had never been so loud.

"Do you need anything, Ghostbur?" Tubbo tilted his head, wincing as he realized his voice was thick with frustration.

"Uh-yeah, yes! I remember now, yes." The ghost fiddled with his hands for a moment, before a white glow flashed from his palms, fading to reveal what Tubbo realized was a small compass. Ghostbur lifted the metal thing from a woven string, extending it to Tubbo, who accepted and held the compass in his hand. 

"What is this, Ghostbur?" Tubbo asked, puzzled. 

"Look inside!" The ghost urged, and Tubbo obliged. As he opened the compass that he realized resembled a pocket watch more than the compasses he was used to, he was met with a spinning red needle that finally settled in a direction that was not north. Tubbo's gaze followed the needle, realizing it pointed to the sea. 

"Ghostbur, your compass is broken."

Ghostbur shook his head, an almost-smug smile on his face. Tubbo stared back at the compass, realizing the metal had words engraved into it. Tubbo ran his fingers against the engravings, heart racing as he realized what was written inside the compass. 

Your Tommy.

"The compass isn't meant to point north, it points at Tommy!"

"What?" Tubbo whispered, trying to keep his voice level. 

"Tommy has a matching one, that points at you. No matter what happens, you'll always know where the other is. You'll always stay together, even if physically, you're apart." 

Tubbo felt tears in his eyes, quickly wiping the salty droplets on his long sleeves. Ghostbur only smiled warmly.

God, Tubbo missed his friend. There was something in his chest that almost hungered for the sight of the blonde, something that needed Tommy to stay close. Tubbo's chest hurt at the mere thought of his best friend.

He missed Tommy dearly, but the mere thought of visiting the blonde filled him with unimaginable dread.

He had abandoned Tommy, thrown him to the wolves with practically no concern for his best friend. Sure, he was doing what was best for L'Manburg, he knew that! But prime, the look in Tommy’s eyes as he was dragged away was as prominent in Tubbo's nightmares as exploding fireworks.

-

Tommy's always been good with an axe, Dream notes. 

However, the axe he was currently using was not his own. The flimsy stone tool the boy had forged wouldn't have been able to survive after chopping down more than a couple trees. Tommy currently swung with Dream's own axe, the perfectly sharp netherite sinking deep into the oak bark with each of Tommy’s swings. Even if a weapon was only as good as its wielder, Tommy’s stone axe was something even the most skilled warriors would struggle to turn into an efficient tool.

Dream will make sure the boy returns the axe once he's finished collecting wood, of course. As good as Tommy’s swings are, Dream is aware he could just as easily bring down the axe on his skull if he truly chose to rebel. Dream had already had to quell so many quiet thoughts of rebellion from the boy's mind, he'd hate for it to have been for nothing. 

So when the boy had meekly brought up the idea of a beach party, Dream had practically been ecstatic. 

However clearly L'Manburg's citizens showed they missed Tommy, visitors had all but stopped after the first week of the boy's exile. Tubbo hadn't even been one of them, and Dream had made sure of that with each touch of guilt and insecurity he made worm its way into the president's mind. Each conversation over a chess board was perfectly crafted to sew doubt into Tubbo's every thought. The child president still held some power over his doomed nation, and Dream couldn't have that. 

Dream needed Tubbo to fall to his own faults.

Dream needed Tommy right where he was.

Dream needed them to break.

So Dream had taken a few extra measures to ensure Tommy’s beach party would have no guests aside from himself. He had to keep the child isolated. He had to keep him all to himself.

Tommy's axe collided with the tree again, bringing it down fully this time. Tommy moved out of the falling timber's way seconds before he would've been crushed, staring at the fallen tree with something that seemed almost like pity.

Dream smiled from behind his mask. Tommy would open his heart to anything, even a tree. "I think that's enough wood, Tommy." Dream called, taking pleasure in how Tommy flinched as if his very voice hurt him. "Come here."

Tommy quietly did as told, and Dream placed a hand on his shoulder. Tommy didn't move, even slightly leaning against the hold. He clutched Dream's axe so tightly the masked man noticed his fingers practically turning white. He tilted his head, staring at the axe in Tommy’s hands. 

Tommy startled the moment he noticed where Dream's gaze landed, quickly fumbling with the axe's handle and holding it out for Dream without any protest. "R-right, here you go." He stammered. Dream moved his hand from Tommy’s shoulder to his head, ruffling his messy hair. The boy leaned against him, staring at the ground.

"Something on your mind, Toms?" Dream prodded. 

Tommy was silent for a moment.

"...People are going to come, right?" He asked, sounding so incredibly small that for a moment Dream was reminded of the terrified little boy who met his gaze as he hid in the tunnels dug through his hobbit home's walls in the late nights before L'Manburg. Dream gave Tommy a reassuring ruffle of his hair.

"Of course." He soothed, despite having burnt the invitations just the day before. It had been painfully easy to dispose of them, even easier to dispose of Ghostbur. 

Tommy would break.

Dream would make sure of it.

-

Tommy shivered, shifting slightly as he stared out at the sun setting. The cake he had spilled an entire night of work into sat innocently on the wooden table he had carved all by himself, along with chairs and umbrellas and flimsy towers he'd sewn from the wool of the sheep in the area. He had to take some wool from the fabrics of Tnret, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that colder nights would be worth a smile on his friends' faces. 

Every single party decoration had been strewn around with meticulous effort, all in an attempt to cure Tommy’s loneliness.

Yet his days of effort had been for nothing.

Tommy was alone.

Nobody came.

Dream sat beside him, running a hand through his hair. He'd tried to pull Tommy away from miserably sulking on the beach multiple times now, but each time Tommy had foolishly begged him to wait a little more, insisting that someone would come. Maybe they were all just running late! Maybe Tommy had written the coordinates wrong, or the date!

Or maybe, they just didn't want to come. 

Tommy felt tears in his eyes. 

"It's alright," Dream comforted, moving his hand from Tommy’s hair to gently cup his cheek and wipe at his steadily flowing tears. "I'm here." 

Tommy wanted to scream. He wanted to take Dream's axe and drive it into the man's skull. He wanted to destroy every little thing he had made for the party. He wanted to punch the table so much that it would begin to break and every splinter would dig into his hands so deep that Tubbo would feel each single chipped shard of wood.

He wanted the world to hurt as much as he did. 

But he did nothing but collapse in Dream's arms, burying his face in the man's chest and letting his tormentor comfort him as he sobbed.

If Tubbo was here, he would call him pathetic. But Tubbo was not here.

Tommy was alone.

He already was pathetic.

-

Tubbo had once heard that if bad enough, soulmates can share emotional pain just like physical damage.

He'd dismissed the idea at the time, but now he wasn't too sure.

There was a heaviness in his chest that plagued his every move, an exhaustion that ran deeper than every restless night he'd spent. It was as if his own pain had been taken and multiplied, an additional weight settling among his heavy grief. It felt like every day he sunk further and further into a deep abyss of agony, only pulled further down by a pain like his own.

Each day, he felt burn. At first he had attributed it to his nightmares getting worse, even manifesting in phantom pain of explosions.

It had taken him a while to realize the pain came from his soulmate. Who had once been so careful with taking damage. His soulmate suffered every single day, and it was taking a toll on Tubbo too.

Tubbo wondered if his soulmate felt his pain too. The pain that went beyond fiery scars.

He wondered if his soulmate too felt so small , so pathetic and useless that he had almost no control of the world around him despite supposedly having power over an entire nation .

Tubbo felt helpless. 

He only hoped his soulmate didn't. He only hoped they could be spared of his pain. Tubbo was used to carrying that of others', he couldn't imagine what it would feel like for someone to carry his own.

His hold on Your Tommy tightened. God, he missed his friend.

Above him, Quackity and Fundy bickered over something Tubbo couldn't bring himself to even begin to comprehend. He rested his head on his arms, drowning out the yells of his cabinet, eyes unfocused. He was aware he probably seemed miserable, but nobody even spared him a glance, too wrapped up in their own pointless arguments to even look at their president.

"No look, even he'll agree." Quackity's voice echoed from above him. Tubbo felt a migraine incoming. "Tubbo- what the hell, man?"

Oh, they were looking at him now. 

Tubbo wanted to laugh. He wasn't a very pretty sight.

His too-big suit hung off his frame, his hair a disheveled mess. He was deathly pale, his mangled scar stretching across his face and contrasting heavily against his skin. His eyes were dull, practically grey, his horns poking out of his hair and his ears hanging low. His gaze was tired and unfocused, with large bags under his eyes. He looked up at Quackity, who seemed a mix of alarmed and concerned by his appearance.

"Are you… okay?" Fundy asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

"Yeah, yeah." Tubbo quickly said, fixing his posture and forcing a serious expression on his face. "M'fine." 

The two shared twin expressions of concern for a moment as Ranboo glanced at him from across the table, still jotting down notes of Fundy and Quackity's stupid debate. Tubbo didn't see the point of these meetings at this point. He was the fucking president, and he had no power to do anything besides watching his cabinet endlessly bicker.

"Try and pay attention, man." Quackity said. "Unlike in Schlatt's meetings, we'd like to be able to get shit done." There was no real desire to hurt in Quackity's words, but they felt like a burning brand against his skin. Tubbo grit his teeth.

"Don't compare me to him." He growled, hating the way his voice wobbled.

Fundy lifted a brow. "Relax, man. He didn't mean it like-"

"I don't care how he meant it." Tubbo hissed, piercing gaze shifting to the fox hybrid. "I told him not to. " 

Tubbo only prayed they didn't notice the tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"I mean, it's not like he's too far off, is he?" Fundy said, a hint of anger seeping into his words. "All you've done so far is zone out for the entire meeting and then yell at us when we try to get your head straight!"

"Shut up." Tubbo spat. "Shut up! You haven't let me get a word in for probably the last hundred meetings. I haven't had a good night's rest, or any rest since our nation blew the fuck up, and I'm sick and tired of being treated like either a helpless infant or the fucking devil!" 

"Maybe because the last time you made a decision, your so-called best friend was exiled!" Quackity retorted. "You clearly aren't built to manage this nation and you barely even try."

"Maybe we should just-" 

"Shut up, Ranboo!" Tubbo yelled, paling as the enderian practically jumped. Quackity took a step back, and Fundy grit his teeth. Ranboo stared at him, holding back from speaking again.

Tubbo was unable to hold back his tears. 

"Meeting adjourned, everyone." He managed to stammer, clinging onto the hint of professionalism he still had. "I-I need to be outside."

-

"Why're you looking at me like that, dumbass?" Schlatt teased, flashing a cruel grin. Tubbo held onto his arm, begging whatever force of nature that would listen that Schlatt just dismiss him now so he can get the glass shards out of the cut on his arm and go report Schlatt's latest plan to Pogtopia.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President." He muttered, focusing on the filthy carpet below his feet.

"If you're going to apologize, at least look at me while you do it." Schlatt stated, unimpressed by Tubbo's attempt at an apology. 

Tubbo sighed, taking a moment before shifting his gaze to meet Schlatt's disappointed eyes. "Go on," the ram urged.

"I'm sorry." Tubbo replied, forcing himself to raise his voice above a whisper.

"That's more like it!" Schlatt grinned, patting Tubbo on the back so hard he winced and almost lost balance. 

Tubbo wanted to scream, but was saved when the door opened to reveal Quackity with a large pile of documents in his arms.

"Schlatt, we need to talk." The vice president called, face twisting into something pitying as his gaze landed on Tubbo, who forced himself to stand up straighter.

"Of course, sweetheart." Schlatt said, forcing as much malice as he could into the last word. Quackity frowned, but said nothing as he brushed past Tubbo with a comforting glance and stared up at his president. 

"Tubbo, you're dismissed." Tubbo didn't have to wait for Schlatt to repeat himself, quickly darting out the doors of Schlatt's office and closing them behind him, not allowing himself to look back as yells began to rise from the office. 

-

" Fuck! " Tubbo slammed the door to his office, gritting his teeth and gripping onto his ears as the loud bang reverberated through the room. Squeeks raised his head to look at him, startled. Tubbo ignored the fox curled up in the corner, gripping onto his desk as he failed to control the steady stream of tears sliding down his cheeks.

They were right, weren't they? Tubbo had yelled at his cabinet. He'd yelled at Ranboo, who did absolutely nothing wrong. He couldn't even look them in the eyes as he stormed out of the meeting room, far too focused on holding back a breakdown in front of his entire staff.

He shifted his gaze to the stacks of meaningless paperwork stacked high on his desk, ranging from important decisions that needed his approval to just whatever fucking complaint his citizens made up to contribute to the endless amount of work that needed to be done. God, he understands Wilbur now. The man had holed himself up in his office for weeks back when he was president, refusing to join Tommy and him for any sort of game or adventure they'd made up. The excuse of paperwork made much more sense now.

He swiped at the pile of paper that practically glared at him, just another taunt, another way to prove how fucking incompetent he was. He watched as the paper scattered across the office, hating how a bit of the heaviness in his chest seemed to dissipate. 

"Stupid," he hissed at himself, punching at the now messy desk. " Fucking stupid!"

Tubbo practically rammed his head into the desk, horns digging into and splintering the expensive wood. His head ached, but he paid it no mind. His horns hurt. His horns , just another way he was connected to the former president. Tubbo was no idiot, he heard the rumors, the whispers, all of it. His entire nation had made the connection between him and the tyrant, and no matter what he tried to do he only seemed to meet their expectation of him in the worst way possible.

He clutched at his tie, the too-large suit he was trapped in feeling practically suffocating. He tossed his coat away, untying his red tie, Tommy’s old bandana, and tossing that away too. He clawed at his own chest, letting out a guttural scream resembling one of some wild animal as he felt his hands clasp around a cold metal object. Explosions echoed in his mind, the feeling of his body burning as if he was standing right in front of exploding TNT pulsing through his body. He sobbed, tearing the metal thing away from him as he felt the string keeping the thing around his neck snap. He threw the object as far as he could, falling to his knees as he heard it collide with a wall.

He curled up on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and managing to steady his breaths as he gasped for air.

It felt like an eternity had passed before he could breathe again.

He sobbed, staring at his trashed office. He hadn't even realized how much damage he'd done. Paper was strewn around along with shards of broken glass from stupid decorations he'd tried to add to his desk to try and make the office more welcoming. 

His eyes widened as his gaze landed on the metal thing he had thrown away.

"Your Tommy" sat innocently on the floor, cracked open by the impact. The glass protecting the compass from breaking had been shattered, and even from afar Tubbo could tell the redstone mechanism had been damaged beyond what he knew to repair.

He crawled over to the compass, holding it gently in his hands and pressing it close to his chest. A chitter echoed across the room, and Tubbo watched as Squeeks crawled from where he'd hidden under Tubbo's desk, settling beside him with a small huff. Tubbo felt another wave of tears as he opened his arms for the fox, who curled up in his lap. Tubbo held him close along with the now ruined compass, not even bothering to disguise his hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said to no-one at all. "I'm so sorry."

-

Tommy couldn't bring himself to stand up until he heard the sounds of the swirling nether portal go back to their quiet buzz, signifying that Dream had left. He wiped at the blood on his cheek, wincing as the wound stung. 

Tubbo would definitely be feeling that one. 

He stared down at the small crater in the field now, smoke still billowing from where his items had been blown up. He peered down the hole, frowning as he saw nothing he could scavenge. 

If only he hadn't protested so much, maybe Dream would've let him keep his inventory. 

The sound of his nether portal flared up again, Tommy stiffening at the thought of Dream returning and deeming Tommy’s punishment far too light for his disobedience. He prepared himself to limp over to the green-clad man and endlessly apologize, before realizing the tall figure that came out of the nether portal was not Dream.

Ranboo shook his head slightly, tail flicking behind him as he swiftly recovered from the headache that accompanied dimension travel. The enderian quickly brightened as he noticed Tommy, and Tommy couldn't help but feel a hint of resentment towards the hybrid.

"Tommy!" Ranboo called, smile still bright as he trotted over to his side. Tommy's gaze shifted from the hole full of his blown up possessions to meet the enderian's gaze. Something in his eyes must've startled the hybrid, because Ranboo's excitement turned into a familiar pity Tommy was used to by this point. "Are you alright?"

Tommy shrugged, Ranboo's faint frown only deepening. "Hi, Ranboob." He said, and the hybrid made no attempt to correct him on his name.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit sooner," Ranboo said apologetically, and Tommy hated how genuine his voice sounded. "Things have been pretty hectic in L'Manburg recently."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Dream says you've all been doing great." He muttered. "Probably fuckin' great if you couldn't bother to visit." 

Or come to the party , a voice in his head that sounded awfully like his green-clad tormentor echoed. Don't let him make excuses for abandoning you.

Ranboo seemed surprised at Tommy’s bitter words. "Dream isn't always at L'Manburg, he can't really know how we're doing, can he?"

Ranboo's words made sense technically, and perhaps Dream's words of L'Manburg prospering came more from a want to reassure Tommy than an actual report on the nation's status. But all Tommy could think of is how Dream wasn't in L'Manburg often because he spent every single day visiting him. 

"We really miss you, Tommy. All of us- even Tubbo!" Ranboo said, a smile returning to his face. "Honestly, nobody wants you back more than him-"

"No he fucking doesn't." Tommy spat, cutting off Ranboo's attempt at comfort. "If he did he'd actually fucking be here, any of you would be here beyond leaving some fucking condolence or token to show how sad you are that I'm fucking gone!" 

Ranboo's eyes widened, the enderian taking a cautious step back. Tommy visibly deflated, fidgeting with his hands as his gaze shifted back to the grass. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"It's alright," Ranboo comforted. "It doesn't look very fun out here."

"I wish it was that." Tommy lamented, plopping down onto the grass. Ranboo sat down beside him, keeping his distance. Tommy gripped a handful of grass, tearing it from the ground and ripping it in his hands. "I just.. I don't have much pep left in my step, Ranboo." Tommy admitted, refusing to look up from the grass to see the enderian's reaction. "I don't know how long I can keep doing… this." He sighed, gesturing around to his surroundings. 

"It.. it can't be that bad, can it?" Ranboo asked, tilting his head. Tommy knew there was no malice in his statement, but the words filled him with bitterness. 

"It's shit." Tommy spat, continuing to tear the grass below him apart. "Dream- sure, he visits. But he.. he isn't nice, alright? There- I said it!"

"...What do you mean by that?"

"He fuckin'.. he can be a prick, alright? He says all this shit that makes my head all fuzzy, and he's nice, but.. he hurts me." Tommy felt his chest twist as he spoke, Ranboo making no move to stop him. "He has all these dumb fucking rules that he says are for my own good but they hurt and being around him hurts and I know he's my friend but it fucking hurts- "

"Tommy!" The blonde flinched as Ranboo's hand rested on his shoulder, startling him. Ranboo stared at him, eyes narrowing with pity. "Are you alright? Breathe." Tommy grit his teeth. 

He stood up, Ranboo quickly following as the pair entered Logstedshire. Tommy opened the door to the small hut Ghostbur had built, grunting with effort as he dropped to the floor and lifted the cobble trapdoor that hid among the stone tiles. 

"What is this?" Ranboo asked as Tommy led him down the ladder to his vault.

"It's.. I dunno." Tommy admitted, sitting down on one of the many chests scattered around the room. The space was small, the walls made of sloppily pressed together stones. The only real things in the room were the many chests that stacked on top of eachother, housing items ranging from pretty leaves and shells to diamonds and pictures Tommy had no other room for. "My stash, I guess." 

"What for?" Ranboo tilted his head, taking in the pathetic sight of the room.

Tommy sighed. "I'm going to be honest with you." He said. "I'm not.. I don't want to keep on going. I don't think I'll be able to for much longer."

"What?"

"I dunno." Tommy shrugged. "I guess I just- I want something of me to remain. I don't think I can survive like this for much longer." He admitted, hating how pathetic he sounded. "And well- I haven't been living for a fuckin' while now so who knows-"

"Tommy." Ranboo interjected, cutting him off. "What are you talking about?"

"You ever thought of disappearing, Ranboo?" Tommy asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Ranboo asked, though Tommy saw how he grew nervous.

"Like- going away, ceasing to be here.."

"You mean dying." Ranboo said bluntly. 

Tommy was silent for a moment, a long moment.

"Yeah." He nodded. "That."

Ranboo's eyes widened, and his gaze shifted to the floor. Tommy could tell he was searching for words.

"Don't like- worry, or whatever." He quickly said, attempting to reassure the enderian. "I.. I can't do it. It's not- I can't do that to him."

"Him?" Ranboo tilted his head, pausing for a moment before he lit up with realization. "You mean your soulmate, you have a soulmate?"

Tommy froze, realizing his words. He looked up at Ranboo, suddenly feeling nervous. "Yeah."

"And you know who it is?" Ranboo tilted his head, watching as Tommy panicked. 

"Well, it’s sort of a.. difficult situation to-"

"It's Tubbo, isn't it?" Ranboo quickly cut him off, looking unimpressed.

What the fuck?

"Wait, I was right?" Ranboo practically gasped, taking in Tommy’s shocked face. Had it been that fucking obvious? 

"Wh-what makes you think that?" Tommy asked, careful to keep his voice steady. He's had enough practice when lying to Dream. Lying to the green-clad man was practically impossible, Dream knowing just what tiny cues to pick up on. So Tommy had resorted to bending the truth and practicing a million different cover stories for every little thing that could potentially invoke a sliver of his friend's wrath. Ranboo definitely wouldn't be as easy to lie to as Dream, but Tommy really didn't want to have to admit he's spent years lying to Tubbo and the rest of the server about having no soulmate.

"Well.." Ranboo began. "It just felt right to assume? I mean- I was only on the server for a bit before.. you know, but you two are really close. It's obvious! And from the stories I heard from others about you two it just made sense, I guess." The enderian sighed. Tommy could see where the connection could be made, probably. If it weren't for Tommy’s insistence of being unable to have a soulmate, he was sure half the server would've held that assumption by now. 

"It's not just that, though." Ranboo quickly added. "It's also.. well, your injuries."

"What?"

Ranboo gestured to Tommy’s foot, the one full of cuts and bruises and very much missing a shoe, leading to his annoying fucking limp. "Tubbo's been limping for weeks, and it seems like you have been too." He explained. Tommy grit his teeth, paling. What?

"And I saw a lot of small craters around Logsted, it only makes sense with Tubbo's occasional flares of pain."

"What?"

"He described it as suddenly feeling like he was in front of exploding TNT, which I feel like has happened here." Ranboo said.

Tommy grit his teeth, guilt curling in his chest. Tubbo has been getting hurt, all because of him. Ranboo stared at him sympathetically. 

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Tommy nodded. Ranboo wordlessly came to sit next to him, offering silent comfort with his presence.

"Tubbo doesn't know." Tommy muttered, ignoring Ranboo's questioning vwoop. "I-I can't tell him. It's like Dream says, attachment is weakness. Especially something like a soulmate bond." 

"He deserves to know, don't you think?" Ranboo asked. 

"Well- yeah, obviously." Tommy snorted. "But I can't tell him. How do you think he'd react if he found out his prime-chosen companion was me? Stupid-fuckin' Tommyinnit who couldn't even be good enough to stay his vice president for more than a couple of weeks, let alone stay his friend!" 

Ranboo placed a hand on his shoulder, this time giving Tommy a quiet warning before he did. Tommy leaned into the contact, too tired to keep up his big-man persona.

"He'd be happy." Ranboo said.

"Sure he would." Tommy muttered bitterly. "Maybe before all this, but now?"

"He misses you." Ranboo insisted.

"What even is there to miss?" Tommy sighed. "Look at me. If he saw me, what would he even say?" It was a fair question. Tommy was a far cry from the bright-eyed boy Tubbo had exiled, with ripped clothes and matted hair, bruised skin and eyes drained of all color and hope.

Ranboo was silent for a moment, before a small smile creeped up on his face.

"I think he'd say you're pretty great." 

-

There was a knock on the door of his office. 

Tubbo raised his head from where he sat, perched on his seat and aimlessly staring at the paperwork ahead of him. Cleaning his office had been a nightmare, but it didn't take too long. He was able to get the place tidied up by the time Quackity poked his head through the door to ask if Tubbo was coming to the latest butcher army discussion.

Tubbo had told him to shut the door on his way out and to enjoy a day off. He sighed. Maybe Quackity didn't know how to take no for an answer. 

"Come in," he called, surprised as Ranboo cautiously entered the office. A hint of guilt from yelling at the enderian flared up in his chest, but he pushed it down, gripping onto his broken compass now sitting in his coat pocket. 

"Tubbo, hi." Ranboo called, quickly walking up to the desk. "When's the last time you heard from Tommy?"

What?

"What do you mean by that?" Tubbo asked, looking up to meet his minute man's nervous yet determined gaze. 

"Just- it matters, alright? What do you know about how he's doing?" Ranboo asked, a hint of impatience in his voice. 

"Well- Dream showed up yesterday, he said Tommy was feeling well." Tubbo answered, still confused by Ranboo's question. He wasn't lying, Dream had in fact visited him the day prior with another chess game. 

Tubbo had lost, of course. But Dream had reassured him he did far better than the previous times. It had been a valiant effort, really. But it always felt like Tubbo was destined to lose. 

"Dream was lying." Ranboo said bluntly, barely giving Tubbo time to process his words. "Tommy’s.. he's not doing good."

Tubbo stood up, forcing himself to gaze up into Ranboo's eyes. The enderian was quick to look at Tubbo's shoulder instead of maintaining eye contact. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I visited him yesterday, and he's… uh…"

"Spit it out!" Tubbo yelled, panic building up in his chest as he thought of his best friend. The guilt that resided in him only cut deeper with the thought of his best friend being in danger, all because of him.

"Tommy’s your soulmate." 

What?

"You're lying." Tubbo said, trying to sound unimpressed. "You're lying. He wouldn't- he can't even have a soulmate, we've known that since we were kids!"

"It turns out that assumption was incorrect." Ranboo said.

"Wh-what?"

"Think about it. You both die in the final control room, and then again at the festival. At the same time." Ranboo said, trying to convince Tubbo of his absurd statement. Because of course Tommy can't be his soulmate, he would've said something! He would've told him! He would've…

"Tubbo, your limp?" Ranboo said, gesturing to Tubbo's leg, which had suddenly began to develop a limp a few weeks back. "Tommy has the same one from injuries on his foot after his shoe was destroyed."

"What do you-"

"The explosions you feel? Tommy’s exile home is full of craters." 

"What're you talking about?" Tubbo asked, unable to hide the way his voice trembled. "Dream said-"

"Dream's been hurting him, Tubbo! Lying to him and to you!" Ranboo raised his voice, a sound that felt incredibly foreign from the person who always seemed to keep himself as small as possible. For an enderian, at least. 

"He refused to tell you about your bond because he didn't want you to have to worry about him your entire life." Ranboo said, sighing. "He's hurting, Tubbo. And I'm trying to help him.. but he needs you."

Guilt clawed at Tubbo like a caged animal demanding to be given his full attention. He'd abandoned Tommy. He'd been oblivious to him being hurt, oblivious to them being fucking soulmates. He'd hurt his friend beyond what he could forgive himself for, selfishly casting him away instead of fighting for the boy who he now realized had been connected to him like no other person in the world could be.

Tubbo fucked up, and he needed to make things right. He needed his best friend, his brother, his soulmate.

He clutched at the compass in his pocket.

He needed Tommy.

"Where is he right now?" Tubbo asked.

-

Logstedshire was gone.

Tommy was used to his homes being left as nothing but a crater. He was used to the pain of explosions searing his body. He was used to the mourning for his home that sat deep within him as he realized he would once again be forced to start anew because there was no place in the universe that would allow itself to truly be Tommy's home.

It never stopped hurting though. 

The view of his blown-up home was as gut-wrenching from above his tower as it had been as Tommy surveyed the damage while navigating through the deep craters in the plains. 

The ground was oh-so far away now. The stars were so close.

All Tommy needed to do was step forward and he could fly among them.

Ranboo had promised he'd find a way to help him just a few days earlier. He'd swore a million times that he would get Tommy home. Tommy scoffed bitterly, ignoring the tears in his eyes.

He had no home.

He had no home the moment he was cast out from L'Manburg.

No matter how softly Dream spoke as he held him close and whispered of how he was loved here, Tommy was never home here. Never home with the green-clad man.

At first Tommy’s mind rationalized the hurt Dream had put him through as a good thing, as a twisted sort of rehabilitation so that Tommy could once again become a member of the server.

But being this up high sure puts things into perspective. 

Dream had done nothing but lie to him. Every carefully crafted comfort had been a deception, every affectionate touch a ruse. All Dream had wanted was control. Control of Tommy’s very being, ownership of his mind and soul. He had done nothing but lie, torment and abuse Tommy.

The word felt like venom on his tongue, but it was the closest phrase he had to give a name to the indescribable horrors he had endured with the man.

He stared down again.

He could end the horrors now, quite easily.

If he jumps headfirst, he might not even feel it.

But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't do that to Tubbo. No matter how much some twisted and hurt part of his brain said his friend deserved it, to be kept trapped in the afterlife with him as eternal retribution for what he had done to him.

No matter what, Tommy couldn't truly blame Tubbo. Dream had manipulated them both like puppets from the very beginning, tearing them apart and laughing as he did everything he could to make them break.

Some part of Tommy wanted to go back and indulge itself in Dream's lies, to allow him to paint Tubbo as some big bad villain if only it meant Tommy could feel the illusion of being loved just a few moments more.

But no, Dream had only ever been there to watch him. To break him. And no matter how much Tommy could immerse himself in the fantasy that the man cared, no matter how much he wanted to believe his lies, Dream… wasn't good. He didn't love him. If he had even the slightest bit, Tommy wouldn't be standing on top of a tower trying to figure out if he had enough courage to off himself. 

He sighed.

It was a long way down.

Only a single step forward, and Tommy would shatter. Tommy would break. Tommy would give the world what it seemingly wanted from him.

But despite how welcoming it seemed to fall, Tommy knew he couldn't. 

Not only for Tubbo, but… 

He wanted to live.

He didn't- he didn't want to die. He didn't want to cease existing. He didn't want to disappear.

He wanted to chase Tubbo around the warm summer grass and exchange stories by the river.

He wanted to sit next to Eret on quiet afternoons as she taught him the complexities of sewing.

He wanted to listen to Fundy's explanation of his newest machine and bravely offer to help test it out, promising to haunt his nephew eternally if the redstone blew him up.

He wanted to listen to the sound of Wilbur tune his guitar and pretend that hearing just a few chords was more than enough to deem his brother the greatest musician to ever live.

He wanted to pretend to listen to Technoblade's boring explanation of the difference between a normal sword and whatever a broadsword was and proceed to pretend he knew far more about the topic just to piss the piglin off.

He wanted to watch Niki bake and beg for her to pass on her skills to him, eagerly helping her out in the bakery. 

He wanted to annoy Jack for an entire afternoon, but leave him a few spare diamonds later to show he cared.

He wanted to laugh at Quackity's jokes and once again declare the man as the funniest person on the server. 

He wanted to pet a cow again. He wanted to catch a firefly and show it to Tubbo. He wanted to find more of those "Allium" flowers Ranboo seemed to like. He wanted to be able to walk outside without heavy armor under his clothes, just in case.

He wanted to feel safe.

He wanted to feel happy.

And dammit, Tommy was sick of surviving. 

He wanted to live. 

-

Tubbo hated the nether, but he could barely feel the heat as he ran through the red-tinted landscape, repeating the instructions Ranboo had given him over and over like the very words were sacred. He found the path to Logstedshire quickly, watching the obsidian and cobblestone become a messy branch of oak logs. 

Finally, he reached a broken nether portal. The sight of it being broken made his mouth dry, but he quickly stole a bit of obsidian from Tommy’s path and repaired the portal, lighting it and darting through.

The daze that accompanied all travel to and from the overworld overtook his mind for a moment, only releasing him when he was outside the portal and in what seemed to be a mix of a plains biome and  beach. Tubbo took in his surroundings, suddenly feeling breathless. 

Where Tommy’s home was supposed to be, stood craters. 

They stood in heavy contrast to what seemed to have been a bright and cheery meadow. Tubbo felt sick just looking at them, a miniature mimicry of L'Manburg's crater. Smoke still bellowed from the tarnished landscape, and Tubbo recognized the explosions as fresh. He didn't dare enter the ruins, frozen in place as his eyes darted around the destroyed place his friend was supposed to call home.

It seemed nothing had survived the blast, fallen logs and heaps of stone and dirt strewn across the landscape.

Tubbo froze as his gaze landed on a pile of dirt, growing taller and taller with slight support from scavenged logs until Tubbo couldn't see where the tower ended.

His heart caught in his throat.

No.

"Surely not.." He stammered, unable to tear his sight away from the tower. What if Ranboo had been wrong, what if Tommy wasn't really his soulmate and what if Tommy was gone?

Tubbo fell to his knees, unable to stop his tears as he was left in a mournful silence, only the sound of rain pattering on him accompanying him in his grief.

Tommy was gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." Tubbo sobbed, uncaring of how he shivered and trembled from the cold, uncaring of how his tears stained his frigid cheeks and his fingers dug into the muddy ground below.

Tommy was gone . 

Tommy was-

"Tubbo?"

Tubbo could recognize that voice anywhere. He whirled around to the source of the sound, watching in awe as Tommy stood only a few feet away, having crawled right out of a pond. 

Tommy had jumped, but he hadn't crashed into the ground.

Tommy was alive.

It took the two boys no time to dash to each other, collapsing on the ground as Tubbo wrapped his best friend in a suffocating embrace that Tommy immediately reciprocated.

"I'm sorry-" Tubbo began, but was cut off by a laugh from Tommy.

"Shut up, Tubs." He said, and Tubbo knew he was crying. "I don't care about that right now, just let me hug you."

Tubbo couldn't help but let out a wet laugh, squeezing his best friend, his soulmate tighter. He didn't know how he hadn't seen it sooner, the way his and Tommy's souls perfectly intertwined together. It felt so clear now as the two held each other close. This was the way it had always been and always was meant to be. Them against the world, together.

"I thought you died." Tubbo whispered. 

"I almost did." Tommy admitted, fear in his voice at his own words. "I.. I wanted to. But I won't. I promise. I'm here, if you'll have me."

"You're a fucking moron!" Tubbo yelled, but only held Tommy tighter. "Of course i'll have you, I'm so fucking sorry I had to let you go once." 

"Don't apologize, Tubso. It was Dream's fault, I swear." Tommy murmured.

"Sorry-"

" Tubbo! ' Tommy spat, lightly squeezing his shoulder. "I said to stop doing that."

Tubbo grinned. "Is it bad I want to do it even more now?"

" Yes. " Tommy insisted. "God, you're the worst."

"You love me." Tubbo smiled cheekily.

"You're the absolute worst. I'd die for you a thousand times." Tommy murmured.

Tubbo couldn't stop his tears as the two finally released each other, keeping their hands intertwined. Tubbo didn't think either of them would be able to let the other go right now.

"Tommy, I'm.. what happened here?" Tubbo couldn't help but ask, desperate to know what fate he had sentenced his best friend to.

"I.. I can't." Tommy sighed, defeated. "I want to tell you, I swear! But- it's not just the stuff you say. Dream, he- he wasn't good to me. The things that happened here weren't good." He said miserably, letting out a shaky exhale. Tubbo squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"You have eternity to tell me, bossman. Whatever happens now, we stand through it together, alright?" Tubbo comforted, watching as a smile made its way onto his soulmate's face.

"..Yeah." Tommy nodded. "I'm- thank you."

"Let's go home." Tubbo whispered, noting how both of them were absolutely drenched due to the rain. Tommy blinked, tears once again forming in his eyes as he wrapped Tubbo in another hug.

"Yeah. Home."

Tubbo smiled, feeling Tommy’s warmth, his hope, echoing in his own soul through their bond. They were going to be okay. 

They were going home, together.