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Tommy remembers a much simpler time before all of this. He remembers stumbling upon Phil when he was young, getting swept into their family without a moment's hesitation. Tommy remembers when he first found the discs, when he found Cat and Mellohi and Blocks. He really never thought that three music discs would bring him here in his life, but he supposes that, since they're rare, he should have expected it. Tommy thinks that, maybe, he should have known better than to flaunt the discs around, to make it obvious and apparent that he had something no one else had ever had before. Too late for that now, though. He wonders if he could go back and do it all again if he would. Tommy doesn't think that he would, he thinks that there's far too much that he wouldn't want to lose.
Tommy runs his fingers over the edge of his sword, wincing when he nearly cuts himself. He tosses his sword onto his bed, pushing himself off of the mattress, pacing back and forth when he stands up. He doesn't really want to die, he thinks. He thinks that he'd much rather stay alive and be free, that he would rather live out the rest of his life without the discs and without L'manberg, but ultimately be alive. It seems like it's too late for that, too. Tommy doesn't know when his pride and the discs became more important than his life, and he wonders if he ever really realised that it was happening.
He doubts it, he's never been good at picking up on signals, on signs that are so obvious to everyone but him. Tommy sighs, looking back at his sword, staring at the picture frame on his bedside. It's just a picture of him and Tubbo, laughing in the middle of nowhere, flowers surrounding them. Tommy remembers that day as the day that they had finally won L'manberg for the first time. They were still in their uniforms, their swords and crossbows strapped to their hips and backs, a constant weight and reminder of the things that they had done. Tommy remembers being happy that day, he was overjoyed. The lack of his discs had been overshadowed by the fact that they had won the war, that things were finally okay.
He wishes that he could go back to that time period, that he could go back to when things were looking brighter than they ever had been. Tommy wishes he could go back to the time where Wilbur was still alive and had all of his cogs turning the way they're supposed to, rather than going insane and blowing up his own country. Tommy thinks that he would like to change everything, but he knows that if he got the chance, he wouldn't. There's far too much too lose, and Tommy has already lost more than enough.
Tommy breathes out, nervousness working its way into his chest. He's never been afraid of dying before, but the fact that once he dies this time, he'll never come back, is getting to him. He remembers dying the first time, he remembers falling into the river and bleeding out. He had heard screaming in his ears, though he still isn't sure if it was his or Wilbur's or Tubbo's. It could have been all three of them, he thinks. He remembers gasping for air, he remembers trying to breathe, trying to fill his lungs with air, though he only succeeded in filling them with water. Tommy remembers dying very well, and he remembers how much he fucking hated it. He remembers being stabbed in the back in the final control room, bleeding out onto the ground, reaching out to hold Tubbo's hand as they both died, just to hold onto something in their last moments.
Tommy winces when he hears the door creak open, opening his mouth to tell Ghostbur to leave, but he quickly snaps his jaw shut at the sight of who it really is. Tubbo. "Tubbo," Tommy frowns, furrowing his eyebrows together as his best friend saunters in, pushing the door closed with his foot. "What..what are you doing here, big man? You know that I..how did you even find me?" Tommy asks, crossing his arms as he stares at Tubbo, who just smiles at him. "I thought you said you didn't know where this place, Logstedshire, was." Tubbo sighs, leaning against the door.
"I lied," he admits. "I figured it'd be easier to lie about that rather than tell you that I visited a lot. But that's not the point," Tubbo smiles, motioning to the sword on Tommy's bed, gesturing to the papers stacked on his desk, filled with plans of how this week is supposed to go. "The point, Tommy, is that you're trying to get yourself killed without me," Tubbo sighs. "And I want in. I'm not letting you go to fight Dream on your own, Tommy. I thought we decided that you weren't going to do that."
"It's my journey, Tubbo. You don't need to do this with me," Tommy protests, shaking his head. "This isn't your fight, Tubbo. You should know that. I don't want you to get hurt, and I..I know that I'm going to die if I leave here. There's no point in you dying, too."
"Tommy," Tubbo levels him with the most serious look Tommy has seen in a long time. "Of course I'm coming with. You and I against the world, remember? Wherever you go, I'll follow," Tubbo reminds him, smiling softly as he moves forwards, setting his hands on Tommy's shoulders. "That's the deal. That's always been the deal. You point, I'll follow. I point, you follow. It's always been us, Tommy. I'm not going to break the rules just because you don't want me to."
"We're going to die there," Tommy tells him, shaking his head again. "I'm going to die there," Tommy murmurs. Why the hell is Tubbo so insistent about this? "If you come with, you'll die, too."
Tubbo smiles. "Well, yeah. Of course we are. But at least we'll bring the world with us," he laughs, tilting his head to the side. "Tommy, this is the end. It's been a long time coming, hasn't it? I'm not going to let you run off and get yourself killed. I'm not going to let you go and fight a war that wasn't yours to begin with. This is our fight, Tommy. This isn't just your journey, no matter how much you try to make yourself believe that it is. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn't there for you throughout it all?" Tubbo asks, his voice low and serious. Tommy blinks, feeling his heart hurt.
"You're not going to take no as an answer."
"You wouldn't take no as an answer if it was me doing this," Tubbo reminds him. "Tommy, there's no fucking way I'm going to let you go and get yourself killed if I'm not there dying by your side. There is no point in that," Tommy looks away, the intensity of Tubbo's words nearly too much to handle. "Tommy. Today is going to be our last day on earth, isn't it?" Tubbo beams at him. "Our last day. Together. You and I versus the world, big man."
Tommy breathes out, letting out a low laugh, though nothing about this is funny or worth laughing about. "Tubbo, I really don't want you to die. I want you to be okay after this. I want you to leave this fucking place, and I want you to never look back. You shouldn't..you shouldn't have to be there to clean up my mess.
"Our mess," Tubbo glares at him. "Tommy, I'm coming with you. There's nothing you can do to stop me, and I think you should stop trying to. So," Tubbo turns away from him, grinning at him from over his shoulder. "You ready to finish this war, Tommy?"
Tommy feels his shoulders slouch as he smiles back at Tubbo, unable to argue with him. "Here's to our last day on earth."
"To our last day on earth!" Tubbo grins, throwing the door open. "To us! You and I against everyone else, Tommy, to you and I, who stuck together throughout it all," Tubbo smiles. "We'll keep sticking together, Tommy. We'll stay together in the afterlife. And if we're not allowed to rest easily and we get sent somewhere else, well.." he shrugs. "We'll just keep meeting until we make it fucking work, yeah? You and I, Tommy. You and I."
"Us," Tommy agrees. "I'm sorry that I dragged you into this."
"Tommy, if I didn't want to do this," Tubbo turns back to face him, pressing a finger against his chest. "I wouldn't be doing it. I'm going to stand by your side until the day you, we, die, and if that day is today, then so fucking be it. I'm your right-hand man, Tommy. Throughout it all, I'll always be your right-hand man. That's what we agreed on. That's what we promised. And I intend on keeping that promise, Tommy. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere that I can't follow. At least when we die, we'll be dragging the world down with us as one last protest, right? One last cry that, no matter where we reappear, we'll always be winning. We'll fight until our last breaths, and they won't ever forget us."
Tommy stands a little taller, feeling Tubbo's words ignite something in him, a fire he hadn't realised he had put out. "Okay," he breathes out, nodding with a grin plastered on his face. "You and I against the world, big man. We'll win this, even if we die doing it," Tommy turns around, picking up his sword, holding it carefully in his hand. "Remember what I said, all those months ago?" He asks, staring at himself in the glinting metal, locking eyes with himself. "Do I shoot him, or do I point at the sky? Do I take my shot? Do I take my shot?" Tommy nods once, feeling his nerves still, feeling his head stop screaming at him. "I'm not throwing away my shot, Tubbo."
Tubbo nods at him, grinning a second later. "We'll make this shot count," he promises. "After all," Tubbo turns around, taking his first few steps out of the house, leaving the past behind him. Tommy does the same, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach that won't go away. "It'll be our last one. One last shot to make things right. One last shot to win, one last shot to fix all of this," Tommy closes the door behind him, taking a shaky breath as he does. "Tommy," Tubbo looks at him, smiling gently. "I think that we'll respawn somewhere else after this. I've never believed in the Gods, but if Wilbur can come back, then anything can happen. No matter what happens, though, just.." he smiles. "I love you, Tommy. And I always have, and I always will. We're in this together, we always have been."
"I love you too, Tubbo," Tommy blinks at the sky, wishing that he didn't feel tears prick at his eyes. "We're in this together. We'll make sure that we live on in their minds, no matter how much they want to forget us. They'll never forget us, Tommy and Tubbo. They'll never be able to forget. We'll make them remember."
"Damn right," Tubbo puffs out his chest, though he looks a little less confident than he had a few moments ago. "Tommy," his best friend looks at him over his shoulder. "I'm glad that it's you who I get to die with. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Would you change it? This?" Tommy asks. "So we wouldn't die? So you wouldn't die?"
"I think that changing things would make everything so much worse," Tubbo admits. "Who knows what you'll lose?" He shrugs. "I'd rather go through all of this again than risk losing you and being safe."
"Yeah," Tommy swallows, "me too."
Tubbo beams at him, and Tommy can see unshed tears shine in his eyes. "You and I, Tommy," Tubbo reminds him, softly. "You and I against the world. Until death does us part."
"I don't think that's the phrase." Tubbo snorts, ducking his head.
"Yeah, well, I'm dyslexic. I get a pass."
"You can't be verbally dyslexic, idiot. That's not a thing."
Their jokes are strained and tense, and Tommy assumes that Tubbo notices that. "Well," Tubbo clears his throat. "I suppose we should start going instead of just standing outside."
"Yeah," Tommy agrees. "I'm not afraid to die," he says. "I'm afraid of watching you die."
Tubbo smiles at him, his eyes gentle. "I know." He doesn't say anything else, and Tommy doesn't think that he has to.
They walk for hours, the silence echoing in Tommy's ears, and he assumes that it's the same for Tubbo. Tommy feels his chest hurt when he sees structures ahead of him, and if he squints, he can see the outline of a green hoodie and a white mask, waiting for him.
Waiting for them.
"Well," Tommy clears his throat, pushing his hair back. He reaches out, taking Tubbo's hand in his own. "I suppose this is the end, isn't it?"
"It is," Tubbo confirms. "Today is the day, Tommy. Today's the day we die, today's the day we win. Today's our last day."
"Yep," Tommy murmurs. "I'm glad that it'll be us," he admits. "I'm glad that it's us, that we die together. That's selfish, but.."
"I feel the same," Tubbo assures him, squeezing his hand. "Well, there's..no use in prolonging it," he sighs, his other hand gripping his sword a little tighter, Tommy notices. "Let's die, Tommy. Let's bring the world crashing down around us as we do it."
Tommy smiles, and he finds himself not nearly as scared as he had been only a few moments back. "Let's fucking ruin the world as payback for it ruining us. Tubbo," Tommy looks at his best friend, locks eyes with him. "I love you."
"And I love you," Tubbo grins at him. "Come on, Tommy. Let's do what we were made to do."
And as they walk again, climbing up the stairs to an arena they hadn't known existed, Tommy feels like himself for the first time in months. They march as if they were soldiers, and they are, if you think about it, standing side by side as they face Dream for the last time in their lives. Tubbo squeezes his hand again and Tommy does the same, grinning at his best friend as one final reassurance.
No matter what happens, Tommy realises, it'll be worth it.
It'll all be worth it, so long as he has Tubbo by his side.
Red and green.
"What's your name?" The boy in front of him asks, his eyes blue and his shirt green. On his wrist is a red bandana that reminds Tommy of someone he thinks he should remember. "I'm Tubbo."
"I'm Tommy," he holds out his hand, staring down at his own wrist that has a green bandana wrapped around it. Tubbo takes it, smiling at him. "You know, I think that I know you from somewhere."
Tubbo beams. "I think that I know you from somewhere, too. Tommy," the boy locks eyes with him. "Do you remember anything before this?"
"No," Tommy admits. "Do you?"
"No," Tubbo smiles. "I'd say that means something. Do you think that we've met before, Tommy? I feel like I know you better than I know myself."
Tommy laughs, because the words are dumb, but they're true, they feel true. "I'd say so, yeah. Maybe we were friends."
"Who says that we still aren't? Tommy, we've got matching colours and clothes. I think that we used to be important to each other. I think we still are."
"You're a cocky little shit, you know that?" Tommy laughs. "You say a lot of things, big man. Do you believe them?"
"Yeah," Tubbo snorts. "'Course I do. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."
"Well," Tommy breathes out, puffing out his chest. "I'd say that this place needs some fucking renovating. Look at that," he laughs, gesturing over to a single tree that stands in the middle of the field. "One tree. One tree in this entire fucking area. You know, I.." he frowns, wondering why that makes his heart hurt. "This place feels familiar."
Tubbo nods. "It does," he agrees. "Do you think that we died here? Because I think we definitely died. And if we're here, together, do you think that means we died together?"
"Yeah," Tommy nods. "I'd say that means we died together, yeah. Well," he takes Tubbo by the hand, already imagining buildings around here. He can see houses behind his eyes, he can hear voices and words and faintly, if he focuses, he can see himself and another boy, standing together. "I think this is a second chance."
He can see them facing a man with a mask, Tommy can see himself and the other boy - Tubbo? - standing tall and proudly, standing there like they both know this is their last day alive.
Tommy feels his chest burn, he feels like he's been stabbed in the stomach. Tubbo looks like he's felt the same thing.
"A second chance, huh?" Tubbo smiles at him. "I guess we should make the most out of it, then. No point in throwing it all away again, right?"
"Right," Tommy agrees. "Right."
Tommy doesn't understand why, he can't pinpoint the feeling, but he feels as if this has already happened.
But something else overlaps that, something that tells him that they'll do it right this time.
"Well, uh," Tommy clears his throat. "I guess it's just you and I, right? You and I against whatever the fuck this world has done to us." Tubbo laughs, grinning at him with a bright spark in his eyes that Tommy feels like he knows.
"You and I against the world," he nods. "You and I against whatever is thrown at us. Come on, then," Tubbo starts to walk, dragging Tommy along with him. "We've got a second chance. Let's make it right this time."
Tommy smiles as Tubbo drags him along, not resisting, not protesting.
Whatever happened before isn't going to happen here, Tommy decides.
So long as he has Tubbo by his side, Tommy thinks, he'll be fine.
Nothing is going to be the same. Nothing is going to go the way it used to.
Tommy knows that that's a good thing, that things won't repeat. That history won't happen all over again.
And although he doesn't know why, he thinks that they'll be alright. That they're going to make things better for themselves and this world, that everything is going to finally be alright, that they'll fix everything.
And even more unexplainably, Tommy realises that so long as he's got Tubbo with him, he can do anything.
Well, he thinks.
Who is he to tell the world off?
"Yeah," he smiles. "You and I against the world."
You and I against the world, the words repeat quietly.
You and I forever.