Chapter Text
In the darkness of the unlit office, a boy sat with tears streaking down his face. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to cry. The previous president had made it very clear that he didn’t like crying (whether it was himself or those around him). He’d even told the boy that he would keep a close eye on him to make sure he wasn’t crying at any point in time.
Tubbo flinched when some of the scars on his face pulled as he tried to wipe away some of his tears. The marks which told of his treachery to the old regime. His execution.
While they only covered a small portion of his face, mostly just his left cheek and some other spatters, he knew that if he removed his shirt, he’d find the two points of impact. Now three, he had to remind himself, remembering how he had gotten shot with fireworks for a third time during the final battle, when Technoblade had created withers and attacked. Since the third one didn’t result in a death, he had to let it heal naturally, with a bit of help from some potions. His chest was more scar tissue than skin, and he had a long scar across his back from when Sapnap had killed him during Eret’s betrayal.
While everyone had three chances at life, both permitted deaths left behind scars created by the very thing which killed them, even if others were erased in the process, a reminder of how much closer they are to their final death.
The reminder only served to make him cry harder. While everyone else’s scars could easily be hidden with hair (like when Tommy had hit his head while running from Dream, the other wounds disappearing upon respawning) or clothing, Tubbo had scars on his face and neck. They were visible, for everyone to see.
He sat there for a while longer, thoughts racing through his head, tears falling until no more came. Even with the amount of tears, he couldn’t find it in himself to outright sob. Though unlikely, someone could walk in and see his heaving shoulders if he did. He’d gotten so paranoid under Schlatt about being watched or seen. He was more than aware that he no longer needed to be so cautious, but it had gone on long enough that it was almost reflex now. Not to mention that he’s been in wars for a while now, there had been no time for crying. He was always out grinding for materials or building or making potions or planning. He was always busy. Crying was a weakness others could use against him and he learned to push his emotions aside.
Tubbo was in a position of power. It would be careless to show vulnerability. Even to his friends and coworkers. Quackity had turned a blind eye to his turmoil during Schlatt’s presidency tyranny. Fundy had been so convincing that he was on Schlatt’s side, especially when he’d burned down the flag. And Tommy…
He exiled Tommy.
He’d gotten rid of the one person he could trust. Sure, he did it for the good of his country, the one they built together, but he lost his best friend doing so.
But it was just another sacrifice he had to make.
His blood, sweat, tears, time, sanity went into his efforts. Wherever he called home went up in flames, one way or another.
He just wanted to keep this one safe.
Was that too much to ask?
In an effort to distract himself, Tubbo wiped away the remnants of his vulnerability, his eyes hurting, and turned the light back on. There was paperwork to do.
When he was Schlatt’s secretary of state, he had his fair share of paperwork, though arguably more than what was fair, since Schlatt would dump whatever he didn’t want to deal with on Tubbo. Why he didn’t give Quackity extra work he wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure that Schlatt just didn’t want to hear Quackity complain.
Speaking of, when they’d rebuilt New L’Manburg over the crater, there was an influx of paperwork, and Quackity continuously commented on how it was too much work, putting forth a suggestion that people should get more time from work to relax. When word got around, a lot of people were in support of it.
Tubbo hadn’t known how to refute it.
As a result, they came to the conclusion that everyone would typically get three full days away from work each week (Tubbo’s requirement, because they couldn’t just stop working), but they could choose what days those were (Quackity’s requirement when Tubbo wouldn’t agree to his idea of “work when you want to, don’t when you don’t”).
He just wanted everyone to be happy.
He wanted peace.
Unfortunately, that left a lot of work to be done during those three days. Tubbo took it upon himself take care of whatever Tommy, Quackity and Fundy left behind. It led to sleepless nights and a lot of stress, only getting far enough so he could get their input when they next showed up.
Even on his off days, he was doing something to better New L’Manburg.
Tubbo went back to grinding. They needed materials and tools. In the peace before the exile, no one thought of another war, so no one thought to gather what they would need if there was one. To be fair, everyone was focused on building up the country. He was also pretty sure that Dream wouldn’t let Tommy keep his things, but if Dream did what he’s done before, he’ll just hold onto them.
He travelled to what was left of his place in the jungle. He traded every emerald he had. He refused to use what his people had earned.
He worked on making a mob farm so they could get materials and experience for the purpose of enchanting tools or armor.
He also tried to train, but without proper guidance, it was slow going. Not to mention that he didn’t have a lot of extra time to dedicate to it.
Even if he wanted to keep the peace, he would have to be naïve to think it would last forever. A fight with Dream was imminent, but he wouldn’t be caught unprepared.
He just hoped Tommy could hold out until they were prepared.
All this on top of all the paperwork resulted in a lack of sleep, which both worked for and against him.
On one hand, if he didn’t sleep, he didn’t dream. Though, he had more nightmare’s than dreams, if he were to be honest.
On the other, he was tired a lot. The bags under his eyes were deeper than when he worked with Schlatt or worked on the war efforts. Thankfully, his time with the goat man helped him figure out how to hide them. At least he wouldn’t need to answer questions or get told to sleep. But even with that silver lining, being tired led to subpar work, and he had a lot of work.
Being president was hard.
He couldn’t make impulsive decisions (that was what Schlatt did) and he couldn’t be led by his emotions (that was Wilbur). Those who had were dead. They had only thought of their own gain, whether that be power or a mark in history.
He was only sixteen.
He was supposed to have fun. Run around. Be dumb. Watch the sunset. Explore. Work with his bees. Play pranks. Do whatever he wanted.
Be himself.
But no. Those opportunities went away the moment he became president. He had to think about other people. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, become like Schlatt or Wilbur.
But everyone was telling him he was becoming like Schlatt. Even the very people who wanted him to exile Tommy. He only used his authority in the way everyone had been telling him to. He did it because that was what the people wanted. He’d let himself be led by his and his friends’ emotions and it almost led to another war they were nowhere near prepared for, especially after the last one.
After working on what he could, he stood up and stretched. A few hours had passed since his two cabinet members left, so it was pitch black out, and when he checked, it was past midnight. Sunrise wasn’t too far behind.
With that realization, Tubbo left the office and headed for a different room. It was small, but it had a bed. He didn’t have a new place quite yet. They were currently focused on housing everyone who had lost their place in the explosion. He didn’t want to live in the White House like Schlatt did. The horned man had done it as a way to display his position, Tubbo did it out of necessity. He could wait to build his own place. He’d find time later, when everyone else was taken care of.
If he had to give up on his own happiness to ensure the lives of his people, he’ll gladly do it. Now was a time to focus on the country he was entrusted with.
He can always find happiness later.