Chapter Text
Despite everything, Tommy felt he was pretty lucky for having the dad he did, but he couldn’t say the same for Tubbo. Tubbo didn’t talk much about Schlatt, and when he did, he was extremely hesitant in saying anything that would damn his father. It was like he had some horrible feeling that Schlatt would find out if he said something bad, if he acted reasonably and questioned his dad’s actions. Tubbo seemed to fear his dad more than anything, but was under the impression that he had to love the man because they were family. It rocked Tommy, and he’d tried to figure out a way to say to Tubbo that you didn’t have to love your family. If your family was bad, you didn’t have to love them, you didn’t even have to respect them. He wanted so badly to wrap his friend up in a hug and take him far away from the words Schlatt used liberally, words like mistake and fuck-up. Tubbo wasn’t either of those things-- he had never asked to be born. Schlatt acted like he himself was some kind of god that could do no wrong, and Tommy ached to break his stupid, straight teeth and teach him a lesson, one that would stick with the ram for all of eternity. One that told him that Tubbo was a person, not a mistake, not a screw-up in Schlatt’s perfect plan for himself. Tubbo was a kid with emotions, a twelve year old who didn’t need to hear that he wasn’t what Schlatt wanted, but instead one who needed support.
He resigned to finally asking his best friend a question that had been bothering him. They sat in the field, the bees finally having gone off to wherever they went. Tubbo had said that bees went into hibernation in the winter, and they all piled together to keep warm and not die. ”Like a big slumber party!” Tubbo had excitedly said, his voice getting loud from his passion for the insects. Tommy had laughed, and said that a slumber party of bees didn’t seem too bad; that seemed like it’d be kind of fun to be in a giant cuddle pile of bees, as long as they didn’t get into stinging mode. The grass on the ground was starting to turn brown and ugly, and Phil now insisted that Tommy wear a coat out, despite it not being that cold. Tubbo had his own coat, a dark green jacket with fur lining, one that was no doubt more expensive than anything Tommy himself owned. It seemed that Schlatt liked to buy his son’s affection, and Tommy desperately wanted to tell him that material objects didn’t equate to love. Schlatt didn’t love him, or at least only did when it was convenient, something that bothered Tommy to no end. Dads were supposed to love you no matter what, support you even in the worst of times. The thought had briefly brought Wilbur to the forefront of his mind, but he’d squashed it back down in favor of focusing on something happier.
“What happened to your mom, Tubbo?” Tommy asked as they watched a rabbit run and dart through dead grass, no doubt going somewhere warm. Tubbo looked over at his friend, a small look of what seemed like shock crossing his features. Maybe he had asked a bad question? Tubbo never mentioned his mom, but every person had a mom of some sort, didn’t they? Tommy had had a mom at one point, even if she wasn’t around, but Tubbo didn’t seem like he was exactly comfortable with talking about this. Before Tommy could say nevermind and drop it, Tubbo spoke softly.
“Um, my dad-- um…” He tried to think of what to say. “I don’t know my mom, I guess? My dad was left with me after they-- y’know-- did that. I just showed up on his doorstep with a note, and he couldn’t abandon me so he took me in.” He fiddled with his fingers in his lap nervously, and Tommy felt immense guilt for asking the question.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Tubbo looked ahead, not meeting his friend’s gaze. “I think that’s why he hates me. Because I wasn’t part of his plan, and I ruined his life by being born.” Tommy’s breath hitched, concern crossing his features. He went to gently rest his hand on Tubbo’s green coat, feeling the coarse wool underneath his fingers.
“Your dad is lucky to have you-- no one would put up with the shit he pulls but you, and he’s lucky. He’s lucky to have such a nice son, because he isn’t a nice person. He doesn’t deserve you, Tubbo.” Tommy’s words were strong, genuine. He believed everything he was saying to Tubbo, and Tubbo glanced over at him, a sad look in his eyes, then looked back ahead.
“I think it’d be a lot easier for him if I hadn’t shown up,” Tubbo said quietly, “if I had never been born.”
“That’s stupid-- you’re so important, you’re the best part about my life,” Tommy tried.
“And the worst part about his,” Tubbo replied with a weak laugh, no humor to the noise.
Tommy swallowed, his hand still on Tubbo’s coat. “He doesn’t-- he doesn’t hit you, right? Or do anything like that?”
Tubbo looked over, shaking his head quickly. “Never, he’s never hit me. He just… says things, and does things. When I’m doing something really good, he acts so proud, and then he-- he holds it against me. He brings up what I’ve done well when I mess up, and he says that I should go back to being a good son, or whatever. He yells a lot, too, when he drinks-- and he’s always drinking.” Tubbo looked down to his lap, his fingers that still nervously moved. “He says he doesn’t like kids, and that I should’ve never been born, that he should’ve never been with my mom. Sometimes I wonder if she was nice, nicer than him. I wonder what it’d be like to be with her, and not him, if I’d feel…” Tommy’s chest twisted, eyes wide, as his fingers clutched at the wool coat.
“If I’d feel loved... if that makes sense,” Tubbo finished finally.
Tommy’s heart hurt for his friend, and he wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. How did he make this better? He couldn’t just change how Schlatt viewed his son, and that rage was building up in him towards the ram. He wanted to hurt him, make him feel all the pain he’d put Tubbo through, make him feel like absolute shit. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair. Tubbo had everything he needed physically, but he was treated like a mistake, something unwanted. If Schlatt hadn’t wanted Tubbo, he shouldn’t have been stupid and slept with some girl without caution. Tubbo hadn’t asked to be born, much like no kid ever had, he just had. Now Schlatt was treating him like a mistake, an accident, even though it was his fault Tubbo had been born. He was blaming Tubbo for his actions. Wilbur popped into Tommy’s mind again, but he pushed it aside. Quickly, the boy pulled his friend into a hug, cheek pressed to Tubbo’s shoulder from where he was positioned at his side, and nuzzled into the wool coat that laid under his skin.
“I love you so much, okay?” Tommy said quickly. “Not in a weird way, like how couples do, but you’re my best friend-- I love you more than anything, and if your stupid dad can’t appreciate you, then I will!” He hugged tighter, feeling Tubbo almost melt under the contact, obviously touch-starved. Did his dad ever hug him? Was he really so unkind that he couldn’t hug his only son, his legacy? Someday Schlatt would die alone due to the way he treated people like pawns his game. People would realize what a terrible person he was and they would abandon him. They would leave him for dead to drown in his drinking. “I love you more than any friend I’ve ever had, and I will always love you. You’re-- you’re like my brother. You don’t deserve this, okay? You don’t. You don’t deserve any of this. I’m so sorry, Tubbo…”
Tubbo sniffed, and Tommy only realized that his friend was crying silently. When Tommy cried, it was loud and full of harsh noises that sounded awful, but Tubbo cried like he had been told not to make a sound. There was that saying, children should be seen, not heard and Tommy wondered if Tubbo had ever been heard. He wondered if Tubbo had ever felt like he was listened to, or appreciated. He wondered how many times Tubbo had cried himself to sleep from the abuse he suffered, and he wondered if Tubbo was lonely. Tubbo reminded him of his dad, in a way, or at least the situation did. No one asked to be raised like this, and he hugged Tubbo tighter as he thought about it.
“Th-thanks, Tommy,” his friend said in a watery voice, shifting and wrapping his arms around the other. “That’s really nice to hear, thank you--”
“I’ll say it as many times as you need me to, okay?” Tommy replied quickly. “Anytime you need me, I’m here. Anytime, big guy, anytime you need someone, even if it’s dark out, you can just show up. My mattress is kind of crappy, but you can sneak in and come sleep with me. We can get you away from your dad, even if it’s only for a little bit. I promise. I promise.”
Tubbo smiled gently and hugged Tommy tighter, sniffling a bit. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Toms.”
“The feeling is very, very mutual,” Tommy said in reply, smiling as he looked at Tubbo.
---
On the walk home from the field, thoughts were eating at Tommy. The conversation with Tubbo had been bad. He had known his friend wasn’t happy at home, but now it was killing him. He had to do something, anything to get Tubbo out of that situation. Stepping inside the house, he saw his dad on the couch, reading, and he walked over, awkwardly standing until Phil noticed him. Phil raised a brow without saying anything, a silent what’s up? to his son. Tommy tried to find his words, but they all came out in a blurted panic.
“Schlatt is being mean to Tubbo and saying he shouldn’t have been born and that he’s an accident, and I don’t want Tubbo to go through that because he’s my best friend and he’s a really good person and I don’t want my best friend to get hurt by his dad because he didn’t even ask to be born, his dad just got a girl pregnant and now he’s treating Tubbo like he’s a mistake and not a good person--”
Phil blinked.
“--and he’s a really good person, he’s the best person I’ve ever met. I love him so much and I don’t know what to do because if he keeps getting treated like crap he’s going to grow up to be mad and angry like everyone else I know and I can’t handle another person being angry and messed up and--”
“Tommy,” Phil tried.
“--and if he’s sad, then I’m sad, because he’s my best friend and best friends are supposed to always be happy and I keep getting this feeling in my gut that he’s going to be unhappy and then he’s going to realize we shouldn’t be friends and he’s going to leave me.” Tommy took a deep breath in as his dad stared at him. “What do I do?”
“Uh… well…” Phil began, only for Tommy to interrupt again.
“Can Tubbo move in with us?”
Phil faltered, and he sighed. “It’s… it’s not that simple, Tommy. You can’t just take him away from Schlatt. Schlatt’s his dad, his family.”
“But Schlatt treats him like shit! He’s not an accident, he’s a person! He’s a person who didn’t ask for any of this! That’s not fair!” Tommy’s voice was a panicked shout and he pushed his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands. “Why is everything messed up?! This isn’t fair, and Tubbo doesn’t deserve that! No one does, no one deserves that kind of feeling of feeling unloved and alone!” Wilbur flashed to his mind again, and he made a frustrated noise, feeling like a toddler as he angrily stomped a foot without thinking about it. “Is this just how growing up works? You realize that everyone sucks and no one’s good?! This sucks! This is the worst!”
Phil frowned and set his book aside, standing up and walking over to Tommy. His son had grown considerably since he was eight, but he still had a bit of height on the boy. He gently rested his hands on Tommy’s shoulders and gazed down at him. “Sometimes there are things we can’t control, and all you can do is support people and help them through it.”
“That isn’t fair, though!” Tommy shouted, feeling like he could cry.
“A lot of times, life isn’t,” Phil said softly.
“Well it should be! I’m going to make it fair!” Tommy wrapped his arms around Phil, desperate for comfort. His dad’s fingers brushed against the nape of his neck, skin touching skin. Once again, a deep sadness seemed to come from Phil, as if he was holding the weight of the world just like Tommy. They were both Atlas, in their own ways. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair! Why do people get hurt, why do good people have to suffer?! That isn’t fair, it’s not how life is supposed to be!” He was so angry about this whole thing, and he felt his dad’s hand dip to his back and start rubbing it in small circles. When Tommy was a kid, every time he’d have a tantrum that would end in intense sobbing after his screaming was done, Phil would lay him down with Tommy’s head in his lap and rub his back, over and over again, until he calmed down. The action now brought so much comfort, and Tommy closed his eyes, allowing the feeling to wash over him. His dad loved him so much, and he knew that. Opening his eyes, he glanced over at the doorway, seeing a figure.
Wilbur stood there, staring with an unreadable expression on his face. Tommy couldn’t tell if it was mad or sad, but it seemed empty, like Wilbur had walked in on something he shouldn’t. He looked at Tommy for a moment, locking eyes with him as Phil continued to rub his back. How long had it been since Wilbur had gotten a hug from their dad? Tommy wondered about it, and Wilbur stared at him for a moment longer, before retreating down the hall, the click of a door closing filling the air. Wilbur had looked so… alone. Even with nothing evident in his features, only a stoic expression, he looked like he had been numb. Tommy wanted to wrap him up in a hug, but he knew it would only mean something if their dad was in his place. He wondered what Phil had seen about Wilbur, because so far Tommy realized that there was a grave issue at hand. He hadn’t had every vision about Wilbur possible, yet, and he wanted to know what would happen. He craved the information about his brother. What put the chill in Wilbur’s bones, what was the breaking point? Was this something that was going to come all at once, or was it going to slowly build up until Wilbur was a husk of the person he had been at one point? Tommy’s brow furrowed, and he wasn’t sure how he felt. He wanted to protect Wilbur, but he didn’t have all the facts or answers he needed to do it. He needed a solution, and he wasn’t sure how to get it, or even if he could get it.
Phil pulled back and looked at Tommy with a soft smile. “Everything will be okay, alright, Tommy? You just need to be patient. Everything will run its course and work out.”
Tommy glanced to where Wilbur had been standing and frowned, then looked back at his dad and nodded. He wasn’t sure how much he believed the words.
---
That night, dreams plagued Tommy again. He was standing on the ground, looking up at a stage of sorts, and Schlatt was proudly standing there. He looked so fucking pleased with himself, and that smirk he had had only doubled, making him all the more menacing. Tommy looked over to where Wilbur was stood next to him, an angry look on his face, one of betrayal. Schlatt gently tapped at the microphone in front of him, then spoke, his low voice filling the air.
“Well… that was pretty easy…” Tommy’s face was shocked, even though the context was unclear to him. What had happened? Why was Wilbur so mad? “You know what I said, the day I got unbanned from the Dream SMP and the day I said I was running? ...an election that I won, by the way.” Tommy’s blood was cold, and he stared up at Schlatt and his figure in his nice suit, his horns looking even sharper than the first time Tommy had met him. “I said things are gonna change… I looked every citizen of L’Manberg in the eyes and I said, “you listen to me-- this place will be a lot different tomorrow.”” Tommy looked over to Wilbur for a second, then walked forward, trying to get a better look at Schlatt. What the fuck was happening? None of it made sense, but what Tommy could gather was that Schlatt had won, that this land, whatever it was called, was under his control.
“Let’s start makin’ it happen.”
Tommy looked to Wilbur again, who was staring, an emotionless face looking at a corrupt politician. Had they… lost? Had Wilbur ran for president of this place and lost?
“My first decree, as the president of L’Manberg-- the EMPEROR of this GREAT COUNTRY--” Tommy flinched at his volume, shocked. “--IS TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIP OF WILBUR SOOT, AND TOMMYINNIT!” Tommy gave a shout of a noise without meaning to, something he couldn’t control in the vision, and people began to scream in outrage, a woman’s voice piercing the air with a shout. It seemed all at once, the people of the crowd turned on Tommy and his brother, drawing crossbows that were aimed directly at them. Tommy stood still as the world crashed around him, the vice president shouting to get the two out of the country, to banish them.
All at once, Tommy was in motion as arrows were fired. He chased after Wilbur who had started running as soon as a flaming arrow hit him, trying to hurriedly put out the fire from the coat he was wearing as he moved with speed. What the fuck was going on? What was happening? Arrows soared through the air, and Tommy drank a potion from a bottle, one he used to detest the taste of as he ran. He looked around for Wilbur-- where was he? Schlatt’s laughter, deep and powerful, was all Tommy could hear. It was all encompassing, and he looked around, panic deep in his bones.
Tommy snapped awake, sitting up in bed as he was brought back to reality, Schlatt’s laughter still in his head as he looked around his dark room. What had just happened? What did that vision mean? Was it going to become a reality? He and Wilbur would lose everything they had? Where had Phil been in that scene, or Techno? Where was their support?
Tommy wasn’t sure what was going on anymore-- but he had a bad feeling in his chest for hours after the dream, unable to sleep as he laid in bed.
What was L’Manberg? And more importantly… what was going to happen to it?