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Hurt, hurt and just an overwhelming feeling of pain. It hurt so bad. Tommy’s blue eyes blinked blearily at the ground, at his feet as his head hung low. His fists were clenched and shaking, tears dripping onto the floor.
“It-it’s stupid, Tubbo.” He said quietly, turning his head to the side, almost ashamedly. Tubbo, who was standing in the doorway with wide, worried eyes, stepped forward to wrap their arms tightly around the broken, hurting blonde before them.
Tommy, in his anguish, couldn’t even fight it, not for his ego, nor for his reputation. For once, he’d felt so helpless and hurt, he just wanted to feel the comfort from his friend, his best friend. So he clung to Tubbo equally, if not more firmly, his fingers gripping the fabric of Tubbos light green sweater tightly. Tubbo only nodded into Tommy’s shoulder while murmuring soft, comforting words.
After a couple more moments of their hug, they released, yet Tubbo kept a hand in Tommy’s and used the other to lift to Tommy’s face, flushed and wet with tears. Tubbos watery eyes rubbed the tears away slightly, his dark brown eyes swirling with empathy, hurting for his friends pain.
Tommy was then led inside, where Tubbo got him some water, before taking him up to their bedroom. Tommy just followed quietly, still holding the glass in his hands numbly. He sat in the bed with Tubbo, both of them sitting criss cross beside each other, while Tommy took small sips of the water. Tubbo kept a hand linked with Tommy’s, their fingers intertwined while Tubbo gently rubbed Tommy’s thumb with their own, lightly encouraging him to let his feelings out.
Tommy’s head fell again as another fit of tears came. He began venting, the words spilling from his lips, easier than they ever had. It was usually easier to do this with Tubbo. Tubbo listened, and when you were done he’d give you a nice, warm hug and comfort you endlessly, promising that it would be better, that he’d help, etc.
Tommy spoke of his discs, the items, the music that he had depended on and that brought him comfort, and happiness. How he missed them, how utterly wrong it felt to not have them with him, not being able to hear the melody through his humble home, or beside his little bench.
It may have been odd, to others, why he cared for those music discs so much. But the sentiment they held, the comfort they brought him, was something very few people could understand, let alone empathize with. Tubbos connection to their bees, and their little bee box Tubbo carried on them self often, was similar to Tommy’s discs. Tubbo cared very dearly for their bees, and throughout the pain and heartbreaks of the war, they had changed. The war had hurt them, damaged all of them badly.
Tommy, though, had given up the two things he cared about so much, for their freedom. He didn’t regret it, either. But it still felt wrong, not to have the discs. Tubbo understood, they empathized with Tommy, not only that, Tubbo helped Tommy as much as they could through both of their endeavors. Tubbo supported Tommy the most, throughout it all. Which was why it was so much easier to talk to them, or to talk about his feelings at all, really.
He shook with his quiet sobs, despite the lack of tears coming out now, forehead pressed against Tubbos shoulder as his tall figure hunched over. Tubbo only continued to hug the other, though having to lean up whenever he hugged Tommy, that was okay with them.
Their hands rubbed Tommy’s back lightly, a soft hum rang through the room. It was the tune of Mellohi. Slower, and less melodic, as the tune was obviously difficult to replicate with ones voice. But Tubbo hummed it softly, slowly, and that was enough for the rush of pure happiness and appreciation for his friend to come over him. Tommy pulled Tubbo closer, his arms wrapped around the other in a very clingy way, while his eyes scrunched shut, his sudden movement and expression seeming to be a move of large gratitude, that Tommy didn’t know how to express otherwise. He was sure if he opened his mouth, it’d come out garbled and broken from his crying, but he tried anyway.
“Th-thank-thank you, Toby.”
Tubbo closed his eyes as he let out a soft breath. He continued to hold onto Tommy, the sound of waves washing up onto the shore heard from outside the open window. The docks had become a very lovely place, a comforting place for Tubbo to hang around, and Tommy felt comforted by it as well.
The sound of the ocean outside, the moonlight filtering in through the dark room, while the two continued to hug throughout the night.. it was a nice experience. Even for Tommy, who was hurting greatly.. he was glad he came, he was so very glad to have Tubbo there for him. And sure, by day he would tease the other relentlessly, insult them lightly and ‘bully’ them, but they both knew it was just jokes.
But even then, by night, by the time it was just them, Tommy softened and made sure his friend was alright. And when Tommy wasn’t alright, Tubbo was there to help him be alright. They cared for each other more than they let on, certainly more than Tommy let on. But it was alright with them, their routine. Because when either were hurting, it would be alright, because their friend would be there to hug them and comfort them.
Eventually, Tubbo and Tommy had gone under the covers to sleep, legs slightly tangled with arms still holding each other gently. Tommy murmured another thank you into Tubbos hair, Tubbo only responding with a squeeze and a light nuzzle into the other. And Tommy felt, even if just slightly, better already. Because even if each of their valuables were stolen, taken, or killed, like Tommy’s discs, or Tubbos bees, they still had each other. And through the pain of losing one comfort item, they still had each other to comfort the other.
And that was something that couldn’t be stolen from them.