Chapter Text
Fundy didn't know anything anymore.
Nothing mattered, did it?
well at least he didn’t matter. Tommy had Tubbo and Sam, Quackity had Karl and Sapnap hell, even Dream had George and Sapnap. Dream as in the man in the high security prison, the one responsible for mass deaths and manipulation. Yes even that Dream had someone. Niki and Jack were off being evil together, Techno and Phil had each other, but they also had the only friend Fundy thought he had, Ranboo.
Everyone was happy. They all had friends and family and what did Fundy have? A amnesiac ghost as a father, a adoptive parent who didn’t show up for the adoption and Iskall85, a friend who he talked to online.
Perfect.
Well at least Ghostbur tried, that’s more than he can say about the others, his own grandfather dismissing him out of hand. Yet still, trying wasn’t enough. It couldn’t make up for all of the trauma caused by Wilbur.
Iskall was a true friend though, returning time and time again even after Fundy’s anger lashed out on him. The older man clearly cared about him, proven again and again, his advice never failed Fundy. He listened to Fundy’s rambles that only bothered people without judgment, he listened as Fundy complained about Wilbur babying, he was his virtual shoulder to cry on as Fundy gave a nonsensical rant about the day of Wilbur's death, he validated him in all the ways nobody ever did. Iskall was the one who gave him the best advice he ever received.
‘I hate to say this dude, but if it’s really that bad, why don’t you just leave?’ Fundy paused. It was a pitch black as he strolled through the woods, no torch or anything but he didn’t need it. His enhanced senses were more than enough.
‘What? Leave?’ The confusion and hesitation was obvious.
Iskall sighed ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t even though about it. Leave! Get out of L’manberg, or what’s left of it, Leave the greater dream smp, just go somewhere new, on your own’ he said, voice growing louder after every word.
Fundy winced, he would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it, but Fundy didn’t think that would even be possible, right? He ducked under a tree branch as he thought about it.
‘Where would I go though? Nobody would come with me and I don’t have the resources’
‘Does it matter? When I ran I had no idea where I was going and then I ended up in hermitcraft.’ Iskall could tell Fundy wasn’t sold. ‘Ok so tell me one thing you’ve always wanted to be when you were a kid but you couldn’t’
‘Does being happy count?’ Fundy replied, always so quick witted. Iskall chuckled. ‘I mean- It’s part of the package’ Fundy felt himself smile at the laugh, he could trust Iskall to be real with him and it was nice to hear someone laugh after a long time.
Fundy thought, he thought back to his childhood, which, with his enhanced aging, wasn’t very long. He thought back to the memories he held closest to his chest. The warm fire, starry sky and snowy landscape, soft, bittersweet melodies and quiet guitar strings. It all came back to him.
‘well, I always wanted to make music, Like Wilbur did’
‘Why haven’t you started yet?’
‘I’ve been too busy. I’m working on all these projects and helping people i hardly have time to myself anymore’
‘Why are you helping people?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They haven’t helped you, have they?’
‘I- no
‘Well dude, if you leave you wouldn’t have any of those issues, those aren’t your issues, that's their stuff. If you leave, you’ll be free’
Free- freedom. That word felt strange. Sure fundy was free in the sense that, unlike dream, he wasn’t rotting in some cell. But that didn’t really mean he was free. Freedom meant he would no longer be burdened by the expectations of his family, if you could even call them that. His own uncles tortured him till he was incomprehensible, and drowned him, all while watching and laughing. How could they just laugh? Fundy messaged countless people, nobody came. Nobody cared. Because why would they care about the poor little furry. The orphaned fox. The trickster. Fundy was a nobody among these guys so why did he care?
And then again when he was found by Ranboo Phil and Tubbo. He was merely watching from afar, he couldn’t even hear what they were talking about!! His grandfather actively tortured and humiliated him for no reason.
The worst part was when he tried to connect to Phil much earlier, the man denounced him immediately because of the butcher army, while he was currently teamed up with two other people in the butcher army. He was such a fucking hypocrite. He destroyed the one thing Fundy had of the old Wilbur because of the government while watching the very man who ran the government torture Fundy.
So why the fuck did Fundy care about them.
Why was he still here? Iskall was right. He didn’t need to care about any of those issues. They weren’t his. His father’s dead, grandfather disowned him, uncles couldn’t care less, adoptive parent off doing god knows what. If they don’t care about him why does he care about them?
Fundy was going to leave, and he was going to do it his way. He smiled. ‘Yknow what iskall? I think you’re actually right.’
‘Are you going to?’ Iskall asked
‘Yeah. yeah i will. Tonight.’ Fundy announced proudly. The idea became more appealing the more he thought about it.
‘Alright, sounds like you have some packing to do then. message me when you leave.’ Iskall said, fundy could practically hear the pride in his voice.
‘Will do thanks. Well goodbye’ he said as he ended the call. There was little time left for fundy to grab his stuff, so he ran straight back.
Nobody noticed him as he packed all the essential items he needed. A little bit of food and water. Money, his clothes, the ones that were clean and not stained with blood. His hat and Wilbur’s old guitar. There was no use for it here after all.
It was well past midnight when Fundy was ready to leave. not many people were awake and the ones that were definitely wouldn’t care about him.
He didn’t bother saying goodbye or leaving a note. Chances are nobody would notice, and if they did, nobody would care. He could have told someone but by the off chance they brushed it off again, he didn’t. Fundy didn’t want to hurt anymore.
Taking one final look at the place that he was born in, raised in. Fundy turned his back to it. This place cared not for him, so he didn’t care about it either.