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Three weeks until Christmas, and Tommyinnit was lost and alone. His very best friend had kicked him out of the home Tommy had lost two of his lifes for. Kicked him out of the home that Tommy had built with his friends by his side. And now Tommy was feeling more scared than he would prefer to admit. He didn’t have his stuff, or a single way to connect to anyone. He had no map, no compass, nothing to wear, nothing to protect himself with, nothing that would help him. Dream had handed him some food and had left Tommy alone.
And Tommy was terrified.
He huddled under the small dirt roof, hiding from the rain that soaked everything. It had drenched his clothes and hair, and made the bed soggy. So there Tommy was, sitting on the only patch of dry grass, watching the rain fall. As each drop of rain hit the ground, Tommy watched with sorrow.
Sorrow over no longer having Tubbo as his friend. Tubbo, the laughing, smiling, happy boy was no longer the first person Tommy could run to. Tubbo was no longer the person Tommy could smile at, and hug. Tubbo was gone.
He felt sorrow over being out on his own, 2,000 blocks from the place he felt safe. 2,000 blocks from his bed, and his belongings. 2,000 blocks away from the land that he built with his own, calloused hands. 2,000 blocks away from everything and everyone he had ever loved.
Tommyinnit felt sorrow over losing everything. Everything was gone.
And the sorrow ripped his chest apart.
He didn’t know how much time was spent watching the rain, how much time was spent drenched in his broken emotions. But eventually the rain stopped, and Tommy found himself hanging up the soaking wet bedding so that he would be able to sleep the next night. He had already gone two nights without sleeping, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last before his sleep deprived self got blown up by a creeper or something.
That night, he slept, but not really. He tossed and turned, his dreams reminding him of everything he didn’t want to remember. He woke up in panicked tears, crying out with no shame because he knew nobody would hear him.
So imagine his surprise when his big brother drifted through the door just a few minutes later.
“Hey there, Tommy!” Ghostbur chirped, his gray complexion reminding Tommy of the fact that Wilbur wasn’t all he had once been.
“Hi, Ghost” He whispered in response.
“I heard that you got kicked out, but that’s okay! I’ll stay here with you and we can build a new home. I’ve got lots of blue, which is always good, and I can help you get some food and we’ll be the boys on tour!” Ghostbur chattered in his upbeat voice as he wandered around, but Tommy couldn’t quite hear him.
Tommy tried to listen, but everything sounded fuzzy, it sounded like Tommy was underwater. He was drowning, sinking lower and lower into the frigid water that made everything cold. He couldn’t breathe, Tommy knew that if he took a breath, he would swallow water. He would die, it would drown. And maybe that was okay.
“Tommy? Are you alright?” Ghostbur questioned, almost reaching out his hand, but stopping last second at the remembrance that he couldn’t actually touch Tommy.
“No, Ghost. I’m not.”
“Oh.. Well that isn’t very good. It’s okay though! We can do stuff around here. It’s almost Christmas, isn’t it? We can make our home Christmassy. That’ll help!” Ghostbur pipped up.
“Okay, Ghost. We can do that. Whatever you say.”
Ghostbur smiled and nodded, and then turned and ran off.
Leaving Tommy all alone again. He was starting to get used to that. Started to get used to the emptiness that accompanied his every move.
Ghostbur came back inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. He was carrying vines, leaves, twigs, and much of his valued “blue”
“Alright!” Ghostbur said, his face beaming as he dropped his armfull. “We can make wreaths! Those are pretty to hang around the house, aren’t they?”
Tommy slid off his bed and landed on the floor, picking up the vines. “Yeah, they’re pretty. Will you teach me how to make them?”
“Of course! I love teaching, I love helping people in general, don’t you? I know you’re sad because you’re so far away from your house, I liked your house, but you should be happy because we’re vacationing in our own little home! I’ll make us a great house, Tommy. We’ll be the boys on tour!”
“Ghostbur, your speech doesn’t teach me how to weave these vines together.” Tommy said, his voice quiet and deadpan.
“Right! Sorry. You take a good, bendy stick, like this one, and you twist it into a circle. That’ll be your base, okay?”
Tommy nodded, watching Ghostbur’s hands and mimicking what his brother was doing. Together they weaved the festive wreaths as Ghostbur’s chipper voice filled the empty silence. Once they were finished, Ghostbur pulled some of the blue from the pile on the floor. He sprinkled it on the wreaths, adding a little bit of extra color to the decorations.
“There we go! Those are pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Tommy blinked away tears, “those are pretty. Thank you, Wilbur.”
Tommy wished he could hug his brother. He wished he could lean into the light yellow shirt. He longed for those arms to be wrapped around him, to comfort him, just like they once had when they were both young children. He remembered the time when Wilbur was always there, always ready to comfort and love him in any way that he needed. Tommy missed his big brother, even though he was sitting criss-cross on the floor right beside him. Tommy was in pain.
“Wilbur, I miss you.” his voice cracked and his shaking hands dropped the wreath.
Ghostbur stopped his chattering and looked at the young boy.
“I know, Tommy. I know. I’m sorry.” The normally happy ghost looked mournful as his brown eyes met Tommy’s own.
“But we’ll both be okay in the end, right?”
“Yeah, Ghost. We’ll be okay.”
But as Tommy closed his eyes, feeling a couple of tears drift down his cheeks, feeling his chest twist and pull. His heart ached and everything felt so.. wrong. He had lost so much, he had fallen so far. He missed his friends. He felt so sad…
As he sat there on the floor, he realized something.
Maybe he lied.
Maybe he wouldn’t ever be okay again.