Work Text:
Tubbo winced in pain as he looked at the injury in the mirror again. Wilbur told him that he’d need more treatment on it when he got home. He told him that he’d need to inform his dad about the wound. But Tubbo didn’t want to do that. He left the light dressing and bandages on for a bit, and changed them everyday, but he didn’t go to a doctor, nor did he even tell Schlatt.
Schlatt already didn’t approve of Tubbo out there fighting for a war that wasn’t really his. Sure he knew that his kid had helped build the nation, and he was good friends with the president, but that didn’t mean it was his war. Tubbo’s only 16, and he shouldn’t have to be out there seeing such scary stuff.
He eventually gave in, and Tubbo was out everyday planning battles, strategizing, training, or he was fighting. The kid came home with a couple bruises and scratches but nothing too serious. Schlatt was relieved when he heard Wilbur inform him that they were trying their best to keep him out of serious harm.
It was the best promise he could’ve received. He knew that war was treacherous and he couldn’t make any promises to Schlatt, but hearing those words were good enough for the time being.
But after the other day, he’d seen Tubbo try and avoid him, or acting strangely when Schlatt was close to him or looking at him. He’d gotten confused, but didn’t think too much on it. He hoped it was just one of his twitchier days where the kid’s anxiety was just acting up on him. Of course Tubbo told him whenever his anxiety got really bad, but he could notice sometimes when the kid seemed a little more tense than usual.
That’s when Schlatt received the letter from General Wilbur Soot. Once he finished reading it, he was fuming. Tubbo had lied to him. He was more than grateful for receiving this letter, otherwise he might’ve never known.
Tubbo had gotten injured, and didn’t even bother to tell him.
Schlatt sat at the kitchen counter for hours, waiting for his son to come home. He knew it would be a later night, he was with Tommy and the two of them were going to train together. They always ended up hanging out afterwards, and Tubbo made sure to be home before 10:00.
When the door handle turned, Schlatt began to prepare himself to talk to his son. Tubbo made his way into the kitchen, holding his bag that was normally on his shoulders, in his two hands. Schlatt knew why. He stumbled into the kitchen, and he looked exhausted. His clothes were dirty from training, and his hands looked bruised.
“Tubbo.”
The younger kid shot his head up and looked at Schlatt. “Yeah?”
“I got a letter from Wilbur.” Schlatt explained.
“W-what was it about…?” Tubbo could feel his heart sinking to the ground. Surely Wilbur hadn’t told his dad about the shoulder wound he’d received?
“He told me that you had gotten a bad stab wound in the shoulder during battle a couple weeks back. From Dream.”
“I-I… Th-that’s true…” Tubbo croaked out.
“And when were you going to tell me?”
Tubbo could feel tears beginning to form at the corner of his eyes. He was in deep shit.
“I-I-I…”
“Exactly, Tubbo. You weren’t. You’re supposed to be honest with me! Do you know how much I worry and pray for you every day you are out there risking your life? I get
sick
thinking about how my son could be taken from me at any moment when you’re out on the battlefield!” Schlatt exclaimed, his voice beginning to shake. He wanted to be angry, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t be mad.
“D-dad… I didn’t--” Tubbo began, but was interrupted.
“No, no! C’mere, let’s see the wound.”
Tubbo hesitantly made his way over to Schlatt, setting his duffel bag of equipment down. He unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt and pulled it to the side, wincing at the pain on his shoulder. The wound was covered with bandages at the time, but blood could still be seen soaked through.
Schlatt carefully took the dressings off of it, and gasped at the sight of the wound. It was a deep cut, and the flesh still seemed raw. Blood started to surface, most likely due to all the moving he did during training reopened it. And now that the bandages were off, it was bleeding.
“Tubbo… Why, why would you hide something like this from me?!” Schlatt covered his mouth in shock, tears finally falling down his face. He couldn’t stand the thought that someone had done this to his son. That someone hurt him. And that Tubbo would hide it.
“Dad… I just-- I don’t want to leave my friends to die out there. I need to help a-and I was worried that you would make me leave the battalion, a-and I knew you were worried already, and I didn’t want to worry you more. I-I thought it would heal on its own…” Tears poured from Tubbo’s eyes, he didn’t look at his dad’s eyes as he sobbed out apologies.
“Tubbo! TUBBO! Look at me. Kid, I love you so much. And I hate you being out there. I know you still have three lives, I know that you are doing your best to be safe. And I believe you, I believe every goddamn word.” Schlatt had one hand on his son’s good shoulder, and he looked into his eyes with so much care and love. “I am just so proud to have a son like you. You are so fucking brave, and you are going to do amazing things. But you’re hurt. And no, I won’t take you out of the battalion, but you’re going to stay home for a little bit. Until you’re healed okay? Can you please do this one thing for your dad, so he doesn’t have a stroke worrying about you?”
(I am so sorry for that joke please forgive me)
Tubbo nodded, his tears still falling. Schlatt wiped them away, keeping a comforting hand on his son’s cheek, to which Tubbo leaned into. The two sat there for a second before the older ram hybrid finally stood up.
“Let’s get you a doctor bud, okay? Then we can spend all of your recovery time together. We’ll get you back out there to help, but how about we have some family time?”
Tubbo nodded again, sniffling and letting out breathy laughs. He felt a weight lift off of him.
He swore to himself he’d never try and hide from his dad again. Because his dad would always understand, and love him no matter what.