Chapter Text
Phil’s hands are shaking.
“What is it?” Tubbo whispers, standing on his tiptoes, trying to peek over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” Phil returns. He snaps the journal shut and tucks it in his pocket. “We can’t be seen here. Come on.”
“You really think Dream would be angry?” Tubbo asks. “If he knew we’d been here, I mean?”
“I don’t know,” Phil says absently. He bows his head as he steps into the portal. “Let’s not find out.”
“All right,” Tubbo says, and follows without hesitation.
Tommy is nowhere in sight.
///
“Wilbur,” Phil says.
“Haven’t gone by that name in quite awhile, mate, but hullo.”
“Wilbur,” Phil repeats—harsh, imploring.
Wilbur stops fiddling with his blue to look up, and, upon seeing the look on Phil’s face, stands abruptly. His chair topples over unnoticed behind him. “What is it?” he asks gravely. “What’s happened?”
“You need to read this,” Phil says, and slides the journal across the table.
It stops in front of Wilbur. He stares down at it. “Is this How to Sex’s final installment?” he asks, hesitantly picking it up.
Phil does not answer, because Wilbur is not looking for an answer. He is looking for a distraction.
Phil’s hands shake.
“Where’s Tubbo?” Wilbur mutters, and turns the book over in his hands. Its cover is torn and ripped like it’s been thrown into and out of a couple of volcanoes, like it’s been let into and forced out of a couple of countries.
Phil swallows. “Asleep,” he says.
With sudden desperation, Wilbur clutches the book to his chest. He looks up at Phil—eyes sharp, omniscient. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” he accuses.
“Not after this,” Phil mumbles, gesturing to the journal. “Just read it, will you?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” Wilbur repeats. “Fundy told me. You only came back for Tubbo’s birthday.”
Phil looks at the ground.
“Of course,” Wilbur says, laughing bitterly, bitingly. “The mighty Technoblade needs you. How can you resist?”
“He’s by himself, Wilbur,” Phil says quietly. “He needed company.”
“Well,” Wilbur sneers. “He isn’t the only one.”
Phil drags a hand down his face. “Please, Wil. Don’t take it personally. I had to spend time with—”
“Tubbo?” Wilbur cuts in. “You disappear for months, and come back for one day. One day, Phil. For Tubbo. And you—you give me this?” He holds up the journal, glaring at it like it’s the worst, most disgusting, most horrific thing in the universe. Maybe it is. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“Wil, I—I’m sorry. Really. Just…read it, okay? You’ll understand. I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”
Just like that, Wilbur’s bravado snaps away. He stares at the journal. “No?”
“No,” Phil says. “Not after reading it.”
“Is it so very bad?” he whispers.
“Tubbo can’t read it,” Phil says, and that’s answer enough.
Wilbur bites his lip.
“We’ve got to fix this,” Phil whispers.
Wilbur braces himself, sits down carefully, and opens the journal.
Phil closes his eyes.
///
day 1
This is so stupid. LIterally pRobably the most stupid thing I’ve ever had to do ever. I don’t even know why he’s making me do this. But he said I have to and if I don’t he’ll kill me which doesn’t even make sense because then I would just re-spawn in L’Manberg, and that’s what I want to do, so I think he’s an idiot. But I think he’s probably talking about perma-killing me, which would suck.
This is already the third one of these I’ve had to do. I did one but he said it had too many swears so he threw it out and made me redo it. He said he is “reforming” me. I think he’s an idiot. I hope he reads this so he finds out too. The second one of these I did and I only used one swear as aN example of the words that I cannot use but apparently I’m not allowed to do that either.
This is all stupid. It all sucks. Especially Dream. He sucks the most. He’s an idiot. I hate him.
I hate Tubbo, too. I don’t know why he exiled me. I’m pis—furious, I mean. Angry.
…I mean, I don’t really hate Tubbo. Obviously. I just don’t get it. We’re supposed to be best friends.
At least Wilbur is here. I think he’s leaving tomorrow, though. Dream doesn’t want anyone around too long.
Stupid bastard.
(Ha. I wrote that so small he’ll never find it.)
So sincerely wow so incredibly sincerely I mean all of these words,
BIG T
///
day 2
Y’know when I came here it was hot and it’s still hot today. He’s making me write in this again. I don’t know why. It’s so pointless. I don’t even know what to write about except how much I hate him. He’s awful. He always tries to make me take off my armor. I tell him no of course so then he tells me if I don’t that he’ll kill me. So then I have to. It’s quickly becoming his favorite quote. Isn’t there some kind of punishment for murder in the world?? What kind of justice is this??
Then again, he’s the one that gives all the punishments. I don’t think he’d punish himself. He’s an idiot, but he’s not that kind of idiot.
Wilbur left this morning. I kept thinking he was coming back because the portal kept opening, but it was just Dream. Dream telling me to wake up. Dream telling me to take off my armor. Dream telling me telling me to eat. That part was nice of him, actually—the eating part. He even cooked my chicken for me. I don’t know how to season it like Tubbo does. I just use salt and I think I undercook it. But Dream made it really good. Almost like Tubbo. Dream is an idiot, but he’s not an idiot at cooking.
We actually talked for a bit too, which was nice. Wilbur is gone, so it’s just me now, but Dream keeps me company. It sucks—I hate him—but I suppose seeing him once in awhile is better than being alone all day.
I have a log. It’s a nice log. I keep an apple on top of it. Me and Tubbo used to try to balance apples on logs. I always won. It’s not really the same by yourself, though. You know?
Anyway. This is stupid, and I still hate it. I also hate everyone reading this and Dream and everyone who doesn’t read this.
Incredible T
///
day 4
I thought Wilbur was going to come back, but I guess not. He’s probably just busy. He’s a ghost now, you know, so he’s got a lot on his mind. Probably.
Dream doesn’t think so. Dream thinks that…well.
Who cares what Dream thinks, anyway?
I think I would be able to tell if Wilbur actually just didn’t want to see me. Me and Wilbur are friends. I think he likes talking to me. Dream said that he probably wanted a break from hanging out with me, but I don’t think so. Wilbur is honest. He would just tell me to my face.
I think.
Anyway, I forgot to write in here yesterday and Dream got mad. So now he says I have to write everything I did today:
I woke up. I didn’t eat breakfast because I wasn’t very hungry. Right when I was about to check the portal for Wilbur, Dream came. He burned my armor. We talked for a little while. You know, he actually said sorry about that duel from awhile back. The one for L’Manberg—the first one. He said he didn’t want to hurt me. I thought that was pretty nice of him actually.
Now I’m writing in here. That’s all.
Goodbye,
Large T
///
day 5
Today was…weird. I kept seeing things. Like…not things, actually. Seeing…Tubbo. I know I’m not crazy, it was just so strange. I thought he was real, but Dream said he wasn’t, and…well. Dream knows that kind of stuff, you know? He’s really smart.
We’ve been hanging out a lot. He actually stayed all night with me last night because it was cold. He didn’t let me keep my armor, obViously—which I kind of understand…I mean, it is safer when I don’t have it on—but he gave me a wool blanket he had in his ender chest. It was pretty cool, actually.
Dream said in our talk that he thinks people are just trying to get some space from me. I understand. I can be a lot to handle, probably. I don’t know. I just kind of miss everyone a lot. Especially Tubbo. Dream said that Tubbo hasn’t said anything about missing me, but. Well. I hope he misses me. Maybe he doesn’t. I don’t know.
Dream left a few minutes ago, but he said that I should only write until the moon came out, and then try to go to bed. The moon just came out. I’ve been watching super carefully. Now I’ll try.
Tommy
///
day 6
I am a GENIUS. I came up with a PLAN. It is the best plan ever.
Dream said that maybe I should actually try not giving people space. Just to see if they still care about me, you know? Which I think is a great idea. He said that I could have a party! Like, an ACTUAL party! A beach party! I’m so excited!
I’m inviting everyone. I already wrote invitations and everything. Dream said he’ll give them all to Wilbur and Tubbo to hand out. It’s going to happen tomorrow, so I hope everything gets done in time.
POG,
PogT
///
day 8
Yesterday Dream said I didn’t have to write in my journal. I was so glad. I didn’t really feel like writing. I don’t feel like it now, either, but I probably should since Dream was so nice to let me not write in it yesterday.
Yesterday was awful. Wilbur and Tubbo threw away the invitations. They must have. Because I trust Dream—I know he wouldn’t lie to me—and he said that he gave them the invitations. He promised.
But no one came.
I’m not even mad. I’m just…
Alone.
Alone except for Dream. Dream’s my friend now, you know. He was the only one at my party. We actually had a lot of fun together. I’m really grateful that he did. I know he’s super busy, so that was pretty cool of him.
It just sucked that no one else came.
I don’t really know what I’m doing anymore. I keep forgetting to eat, and I can’t sleep at night. The neighboring villaGe is really loud. It keeps me up.
Other stuff keeps me up, too.
Okay, that’s all.
T
///
day 11
Dream let me keep my armor today.
I feel like he’s the only one who cares.
Tommy
///
Wilbur throws the book against the nearest wall and whirls to face him. “What the hell?” he shouts.
“You’ll wake Tubbo,” Phil chides, but his heart is an ocean away.
“What the hell was that?” Wilbur yells, dragging his hands through his hair. “What was that?”
“How far did you get?” Phil asks.
“Like…nine, I think, but what the—”
“You aren’t even halfway through,” Phil says. He retrieves the journal and sets it on the table—sitting between them like a looming nightmare. “You haven’t even reached the bad parts.”
“I’m not finishing it,” Wilbur says.
“Wil—”
“No chance,” he says firmly. He snatches his an axe from where it hangs on his wall. “We’re going now.”
“No,” Phil says. “We won’t be able to do it alone.”
Wilbur narrows his eyes.
///
“Tubbo,” Phil whispers, shaking his shoulder gently. “Tubbo. Wake up.”
“Huh?” Tubbo says groggily. He sits up, rubbing his eyes with a fist. “What is it?”
“We’ve got to go,” Phil murmurs. “Come on.”
He furrows his eyebrows and blinks in the lack of light. “What time is it?” he asks, and stands up on shaky legs.
“Really late,” Phil says. “Or really early. Grab your cloak, your boots, and your sword.”
“Why?” Tubbo asks.
“I don’t have time to explain now,” Phil says. “I’ll do it on the way, all right?”
“Okay,” Tubbo says slowly, warily.
“Wil’s out front. I’ll wait outside, yeah? Oh, bring your armor, too.”
“What’s going on?”
Phil sighs, hand on the door knob. “You’ll see,” he says.