Chapter Text
Phil and Etoiles decided it would be better to treat Tubbo’s injuries on the airship, rather than to move him to a different location. Etoiles had looked around to make sure there weren’t any more mobs, ensuring their safety, and lit up the dungeon so no new mobs would spawn. After all, they didn’t want to put Tubbo in any more danger than he was already in.
They’d managed to stabilize him with a few potions, while also cleaning and bandaging his wounds. He remained unconscious the entire time, hardly even stirring slightly, but at least he wasn’t dying anymore.
It was late now, almost a day having passed since they found Tubbo that morning, and the sun was beginning to set. Rays of golden light cast through the dungeon, landing around the room and providing a comforting atmosphere despite the circumstances.
The rays shined on Tubbo’s face, illuminating both him and Phil, who sat next to his unconscious form, having not left his side for hours. The crow hybrid was carding a hand through Tubbo’s hair, untangling the knots that fell in front of the young man’s forehead with gentle talons. It was silent, the only sound that could be heard was that of both of their breathing, echoing off the dungeon’s walls.
Phil watched the gentle rise and fall of Tubbo’s chest as he continued the motion of carding a hand through the younger’s hair, pondering over the day's events while keeping a careful eye on his friend.
Tubbo could’ve asked for help. He could’ve messaged Phil, or Etioles, or literally anyone else, and they would’ve helped, but he didn’t. Hell, Tubbo shouldn’t have gone to the dungeon alone in the first place, especially in the middle of the fucking night.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, and the sky faded to a dark shade of navy blue, the sound of footsteps echoed from the dungeons entrance. Phil turned around to see Etioles. The warrior had gone to grab some food and a few more potions, but he was now back.
He sat down next to Phil, his gaze softening when he noticed Phil’s hand still brushing gently through Tubbo’s hair.
“Still not awake, huh,” he said. Phil nodded.
“Yeah. I suppose he’ll be out for a while, especially from the effects of the potions.”
Etoiles hummed, and nodded, then handed Phil a small parcel of food. The two of them ate in silence, occasionally gazing back at each other and Tubbo sometimes as well. The silence bugged Phil quite a bit.
He wanted to know what was going on inside of Tubbo’s head when he came here. It was probably for the reward, for the money, because almost everyone on the island knew that Tubbo had been going crazy trying to unlock Create again. Hell, Create was the only thing Tubbo really did, and he was practically known for it. He’d been complaining a lot about that recently, not having it.
“Phil,” Etioles called out suddenly, and Phil lifted his gaze from the floor.
Etoiles had been giving Tubbo another dose of healing potion but had suddenly paused, holding one of Tubbos wrists in the hand.
“Look, Phil,” Etoiles said, gesturing to Tubbo’s arm. Phil squinted to get a closer look, and saw a mark on Tubbo’s arm, underneath the one from purgatory.
It was a tattoo depicting two hearts, exactly the same as the one the eggs all have to keep track of how many lives they have. One of the hearts on Tubbo’s arm was grayed out. For they eggs, that meant they’d lost a life, but Tubbo wasn’t an egg, at least not literally.
He was Chayanne’s egg, as he’d been since the start. But that was fake, it had only been a joke. But the mark on Tubbo’s arm, it was just as real as all the other eggs’ marks were, hell, it even glimmered with the same magic. Phil stared at it, unable to take his eyes away.
“Dad, Tubbo really is an egg, he only has two lives now.”
Chayanne had told him that only around a week or two ago, and Phil had only laughed and dismissed it as a joke. Because Tubbo always joked around, that was just the way he was, but this- this was not a joke. It couldn’t be one.
“Etoiles,” Phil said slowly, “The mark is real. He has the egg’s mark. He only has one life left.”
Etoiles was staring at the mark the same way Phil was, face almost mirroring his shock. They both came to the same realization, at almost the same time, words practically blending into each other.
“If Tubbo had died here, he wouldn’t have respawned.”
Phil buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temple.
“But why,” he stressed. “And how?”
There was a part of Phil that still wanted to believe it was just a joke, but even with that doubt, there was still the threat. The only way to truly know if it was real or not was to kill Tubbo, and see if he respawned, but then if he didn’t respawn…
The thought of losing Tubbo for good left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I think he’s been struggling all along,” Etoiles said quietly. “But he just didn’t want anyone to know.”
“So he’s just been going through this alone,” Phil whispered in reply, “Does he think we don’t care?”
Of course, Phil cared. He cared enough to think, long and hard, about why Tubbo could possibly think otherwise. His mind played back every joke, every comment that had just been laughed off, and one by one, the puzzle pieces put themselves together.
When Tubbo had been standing there, not moving, not speaking, barely even blinking, as they ran around him, laughing at him after the movie night when the amalgamation that had been Cellroiety had made a comment about Fred. The way Chayanne and Tallulah had been hugging him, desperately trying to get him to react.
Chayanne had brought up, multiple times, how Tubbo had been acting recently.
He’d been refusing to wear armor. He hadn’t been eating, he hadn’t been sleeping. He had been putting himself in danger.
Chayanne had known something was wrong, and he’d been trying to tell Phil, but all Phil had done was brush him off.
“Toby’s an adult, mate, he can take care of himself.”
Fucking hell, he should’ve listened. They’d all been so close to losing him, because the entire time they’d thought Tubbo had been okay, he hadn’t and they’d completely missed it.
Of course Tubbo would think they didn’t care.
Phil allowed his gaze to fall back to the person sleeping next to him.
“It’s going to be alright, Toby.” He murmured, gently taking hold of his friend’s hand. “I’m not leaving you alone again.”