Work Text:
“Are we the bad guys, Tommy?”
It was always these nights when that conversation plagued Tommy’s mind all over again. It seemed so long ago, it was strange to think how recently it had actually happened. He sat heavily at the edge of the water, trailing his pointer finger through the cold water that caused a grounding contrast against the heat of the air, he took a deep gulp of air, letting it out slowly.
Tommy wasn’t the bad guy. He told himself that every day, reminding himself what no one else would. He wasn’t the bad guy for caring about the discs. Even Dream cared about the discs, for gods sake!
But was Dream not the bad guy?
He took another deep breath, attempting to shake away his thoughts.
“Hello, Tommy,” a soft, echoed voice came from behind him.
“Hey, Wilbur,” Tommy sighed, patting the space behind him softly. The ghost of his previously turned insane older brother sat down, though he hovered an inch or so above the ground.
“You seem sad. Do you want some blue?” Wilbur offered, the ghost seemed to be emotionally stunted at times and it only made Tommy feel worse. His living brother would’ve known how to cheer him up.
“Sure,” Tommy smiled weakly, taking the ‘blue’ and holding the rock gem in his hand and turning it over, rubbing his thumb over the surface, “Am I the bad guy, Wilbur?”
“I don’t think so,” Wilbur smiled softly, picking up handfuls of sand and letting it fall through his fingers, “I think that L’Manburg is in the process of being rebuilt, and it’s new, and strange, and no one quite knows what to think right now. Emotions are running high and people are defensive, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tommy paused, staring at the gem in his hand and searching it for some sort of answer that Wilbur seemed convinced they held, “Do you think Tubbo thinks I’m the bad guy?”
“No,” Wilbur replied with uncanny certainty, “I think Tubbo is very upset and conflicted, because he wants to be your best friend but he’s also in charge of the safety of a whole country.”
“So he thinks I’m dangerous?”
“No, no, Tommy. Tubbo thinks you’re fantastic, but he also knows the lengths you’ll go to for your personal achievements, and he thinks it makes you very special; but he also knows that those lengths can cause conflict, and he doesn’t hate you for it in the slightest, and if he wasn’t in a position where he has to think of everyone around him, and the country itself, he would never let you be exiled, he would fight to keep you there, but he does have to think about the country and it’s citizens, and right now conflict is something the country can’t afford. He was told this was the only option he had, and so he doesn’t see another choice right now, but he’s trying to make it so you can come back, Tommy, truly.”
Tommy stared out over the sea, carefully pulling the compass from his pocket and gazing at the place on the horizon it pointed to longingly, “It still makes me angry at him, even though I understand why he did it.”
“Understandably,” Wilbur nodded, “no one said you have to forgive him, just know he doesn’t hate you.”
“How do you know all of this? How can you be so sure?”
“Because he told me, Tommy,” Wilbur smiled, taking Tommy’s hand that held the ‘blue’ and closing Tommy’s fingers around it, “He talks about you all the time.”
Tommy looked down at his closed fist, “Does the blue take angry confessions just like sad ones?” Wilbur smiled softly and nodded, “I’m angry at Tubbo, he hurt me, he never comes to visit, and it makes me so, so angry.” He says it directly to the stone this time, before throwing it into the ocean as far away as possible, “I miss him, Wilby.”
“He misses you too, Tommy.”