Chapter Text
"I'm sorry Tubbo. I'll make it as painless as possible."
The boy perched on the roof could see his best friend break into a cold sweat at those words. He could almost feel the others heart hammering, probably going faster than his own. But the blonde held his fire. Techno wouldn't do it.
… Right?
Tommy’s whole body tensed as he saw the man lift his crossbody, pointing the tip of the firework straight at Tubbo's chest. The small boy in the cage cowered against the back wall.
Please… Tommy begged Techno in his mind, straightening up in anticipation. Dont..!
The boy still held his fire. He could sense his teammate's uncertainty from a few meters away. Even Wilbur's confidence in their comrade was wavering.
"I'm sorry." Tommy watched in slow motion as Techno lifted up his hand. NO! The boy's mind screamed, hands fumbling with his bow. But it wasn't aimed straight at Techno. By the time the blonde managed to get it locked on his target, Tubbo's mini jail was exploding in a shower of bright firework sparks. "NO!" Tommy leaped off the roof, watching Schlatt and Quakity get caught in the mess of deadly, burning rain.
"TUBBO!" He can't be dead. His mind repeated feverishly as the frantic boy ran towards the stage and started to climb with shaky hands. Somewhere in the background he could make out Wilbur yelling about the button. But Tommy didn't care.
He can't be dead, he can't be dead, he can't-
When the boy finally got up, Techno was gone, and so was Schlatt. Quakity seemed to be trying to crawl away with a deep burn in his side, a bunch of smaller ones littered on his face. But the boy paid no attention to him. He rushed up to the tiny, makeshift jail cell, kicking down the scrawny fence that imprisoned his best friend.
And there he was. Tubbo. Curled into himself at the taller boy's feet. Barely breathing. Tommy crouched down to him immediately, gathering Tubbo's small, shivering frame up into his arms and brushing the hair away from his face.
"Tubbo…" Tommy whispered in a weak voice. The injured boy just kept gasping, his breathing uneven. Tommy examined the boy's injuries. Tubbo’s face was a mixture of different shades or red, and some black on his chin. His eyes were closed. Then Tommy looked down, and he noticed where his best friend took the majority of the hit. Tubbo’s shoulder had a huge burn, which ran all the way down to his waist, tearing through his black suit and curving around his neck and chest.
And even though Tommy's brain screamed and frantically reasoned otherwise, the boy knew there was no way his best friend could survive this. The best thing I can do is be there with him, and make sure I can speak to him one last time. There's so much I haven't told him. And soon he would never get the chance to.
"Tubbo." Tommy tried again, his voice managing to be stronger. The smaller boy shuddered, and his mouth spread into a tiny smile. "Tommy…" His voice was so quiet, the blonde boy could barely hear it. How he wished everyone outside would shut the hell up and stop screaming.
"Tubbo, it's ok. It'll all be ok. You were so brave. And you still are." Tommy's eyes welled up with tears, and he held back a sob.
Tubbo cracked open his right eye and smiled a bit bigger. He reached up a small hand and gripped his best friend's shirt surprisingly hard. "Tommy," he repeated, voice sounding stronger. "Don't give up. Please. For me." Tubbos one open eye starred Tommy down with urgency, his other one covered by a pretty big burn.
"Ok." Tommy spoke steadily, sniffing. "I'm sorry Tubbo. I shouldn't have held my fire." The boy's voice cracked, and he reached a hand up to wipe a stray tear off his cheek.
"It's ok, Tommy. As long as you're alright." Tubbos voice was quieter, weaker. His breathing started to slow down, and Tommy could feel the strength drain from his best friends body. There wasn't any time. No time to say any of the things he wanted to say. No time to confess that he stole the last cookie at dinner that one time, no time to say that it wasn't Wilbur who "borrowed" one of Tubbos honey bottles for a month. No time to say how much he appreciated his best friend.
"Tubbo, I…" Tommy couldn't hold back his tears, so he hugged his best friend as if his life depended on it to hide them. Tubbo didn't need to see Tommy crying during his final moments. The other returned the hug, but barely. "You were the most amazing best friend I could ever ask for." Tommy said into the smaller boy's shoulder.
Tubbo mumbled something that Tommy didn't catch. "Hmm?" The blonde hummed, rocking the boy in his arms and forth slightly, stroking his hair. "Don't give up on it." Tubbo said, a little louder. "Give up on what?" Tommy asked. "L'manburg. Don't give up on it." The brunette whispered. "Never." Tommy reassured. Giving Tubbo's back a pat. The boy had mere seconds left.
"Thank you.." Tubbo managed, before letting out a final breath and relaxing in Tommy's arms. The younger boy gently lowered Tubbo to the ground, leaning away from him. His eyes were closed, and his mouth held the ghost of a smile.
The crowd seemed to have scattered since the incident. Tommy roughly landed on the ground, being extremely careful not to drop the small, lifeless boy he held.
"TOMMY!" Wilbur yelled urgently, running over towards him, but slowing down when he saw the person in the boy's arms. "Tommy…" he whispered, eyes widening. "Is he…” Tommy’s stare hardened, and he looked up to try and keep more tears from descending down his cheeks.
“He’s gone, Wilbur.” Tommy said gruffly, continuing to speed walk as Wilbur stood still in shock. The older man rushed to catch up to the boy. "Tommy, I…" He started.
"Save it." The younger snapped, hugging his best friend's limp body closer. The warmth was already leaving it.
Wilbur shut up, opting to just walk alongside Tommy as the latter wiped his eyes with the hem of his shirt and kept walking, clearly holding back more tears.
~•~
He sat at the grave in the bright orange light of the setting sun. Wilbur had left a few minutes ago to give him some privacy, but Tommy didn't move. Didn't react or say anything. But he owed Tubbo at least that much.
"Tubbo," the boy started, voice hoarse. "Thank you. You were," he let out a strangled sob. "Always such a good friend to me." And he broke down, crying hysterically beside his best friend's grave, surrounded by the bright flowers and bees of Tubbo's favourite little clearing on a mountain next to L'manburg.
Oh, how Tommy wished there was someone to hug him at that very moment. To tell him that it was all going to be ok. Why couldn't he have appreciated Tubbo's affections more? I guess what they say is true. He thought with a sad chuckle. You don't fully appreciate something 'till you lose it.
~•~
"Tommy?" The boy shot up from the ground as a familiar voice called his name. He had unintentionally fallen asleep. Where was he again? "Niki?" He asked the concerned girl. "Tommy, what happened?" She asked in her soft voice. Then everything came rushing back. It was so sudden, Tommy couldn't hold back a sob that straight away arose in his throat. "He's gone." The boy choked out, before breaking down into a crying mess all over again.
He felt a pair of delicate arms around him, trapping him in a warm embrace. "Tommy, it's ok." She soothed. "HOW IS THIS OK?!" Tommy yelled in a sudden burst of anger. "MY BEST FRIEND IS DEAD! THINGS ARE FAR FROM OK, NIKI!" Tommy screwed his eyes shut. "He's gone…" The boy whimpered.
"To cry." Niki said softly. Tommy loosened his grip on her shirt a bit, which he hadn't realised was so tight. "I meant that it's ok to cry, Tommy." She stroked his hair gently, rocking them back and forth. The sunlight had long disappeared, and now it was just the two of them, sitting in eachothers arms, and only the crickets could be heard alongside Tommy's gasps and sniffles.
"It's ok to cry, Tommy." Niki repeated, wiping away a few tears of her own. "It's ok to cry."