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Tommy closes his eyes, balling up his hands into fists as he listens to Wilbur drone on and on in his ear. Just like always, he's unbelievably condescending, treating Tommy like he's an idiot. He rambles on and on about how he wants to destroy L'manberg, he won't shut the fuck up about how everyone that they know will betray them, he isn't stopping at all, and Tommy can't help but want to punch him in the goddamn throat. Tommy snaps open his eyes, whirling around to face Wilbur head on, keeping his hands firmly down by his sides, knowing that he can't win a physical fight against Wilbur. "You know," Tommy sneers, cutting off his older brother before he can talk anymore. "I fucking hope you die," the words come out of his mouth before he can bite them back. He stands there in stunned silence, watching as Wilbur's eyes widen. "I do," Tommy confirms, nodding along with his previous words, even if he doesn't think that they're true. "I fucking hate you."
Wilbur blinks at him, standing a little taller, standing straighter. Wilbur crosses his arms against his chest, looking away for a few moments. The silence between them is nearly too much, and Tommy opens his mouth to start talking again, but he doesn't, he can't. He stares down at the ground, watching as he shifts on his feet, biting down on his lip. "Losing a soulmate is the most painful experience that there is," Wilbur says, his voice soft. "It tears you apart from the inside out. It destroys you. Their death will never leave you. Do you want that, Tommy?" Wilbur asks, the softness in his voice disappearing nearly immediately, replaced with twisted harshness. Wilbur takes a step forwards, placing his hand on Tommy's chest. Tommy backs up before Wilbur can shove him, sneering at his older brother, feeling nothing but anger stir in the pit of his stomach. "Do you fucking want that, Tommy?" Wilbur shouts at him, his eyes narrowed. "Is that what you want? To feel like you're fucking dying?"
"It would be worth it if it meant you died for real!" Tommy screams, squaring his shoulders as he locks eyes with the man in front of him. One of his soulmates. The one who he thought he was closest to. "I'd pay real good fucking money to never see the goddamn colour yellow ever again!" Tommy shouts, shaking his head as the ords leave his mouth. "I never want to see that fucking colour ever again," he sneers, taking a few steps back, careful to not accidentally back himself into a wall. He knows that Wilbur wouldn't actually kill him. Does he? Tommy shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of those thoughts. He doesn't know Wilbur, not anymore. Wilbur isn't the same man that he was, not anymore. He hasn't been the same man for a long time now. Tommy keeps his eyes firmly locked with Wilbur's, not at all able to see what's going on behind Wilbur's eyes. "I'd fucking kill to never see that colour again. I'd fucking kill to never see your stupid fucking writing show up on my arm ever again," Wilbur scoffs, tossing his head when he does. "I'm being fucking serious, Wilbur," Tommy snarls, feeling rage bubble up into his throat. "I fucking hate you."
"I'm sure you do," Wilbur scoffs again, narrowing his eyes at him. "Tommy, you're too young to know what you want," he lowers his voice, taking a step forwards. "You really think having me dead would solve all your problems?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. "That my death would give you L'manberg back? That you'd be able to live in that hellhole ever again?" Wilbur laughs, bitterly and angrily. "One day, Tommy.." Wilbur trails off, looking away for a second. "I hope to god that I see the colour red and that I don't think of you."
Tommy flinches back, wincing at the words spoken. He bites down on his lip, ignoring the way that the words worm their way into his mind, echoing and repeating in his skull. "You don't mean that," Tommy whispers, swallowing. He feels tears prick at his eyes, and he isn't even sure why. He had been so angry only a few seconds ago, and now all that anger has dissipated, turning into nothing but sadness. "You don't mean that, Will. You don't mean that." Wilbur stares at him, blank and unresponsive.
"You meant what you said, didn't you?" Wilbur asks, his voice coming out in a whisper. He turns his head away, shifting his body to face away from Tommy entirely. "You meant what you said, and you didn't care if it hurt. You don't realise what it's like to lose as soulmate, Tommy. You don't fucking realise how awful it feels, do you?" Wilbur looks back over at him, his eyes glazed over. Tommy can see the bags under his eyes so clearly now. He looks exhausted. "You meant what you said," Wilbur shoves his hands in his pockets, starting to wander off. "So I meant what I said." And then he's gone, stalking off, moving away from Tommy without another word said. Tommy stands there in silence, feeling his anger start to return. It isn't nearly as powerful as his sadness, though. He raises his hand up, furiously wiping away at his face and eyes, sharply turning away from Wilbur. He stalks out of the stupid hole in the ground, moving up the stairs.
He looks up at the sky, staring at the sun. It's yellow, just like it normally is. Just like it was when Tommy first saw Wilbur. They're not blood related, they never will be, and Tommy used to wish ever so desperately that Wilbur was his actual brother, that they had the same blood. Now, Tommy thinks he's somehow managed to dodge a bullet by not being actually related to that son of a fucking bitch. Tommy looks at the sun until his eyes burn, forcing himself to look away at the ground, a soft noise of pain escaping his lips as he stares down at the dandelions. They're yellow, too. Everything is so fucking yellow, and it reminds Tommy of Wilbur, just like it always does. Every single fucking time he sees something yellow, Wilbur's stupid goddamn face flashes in his head for a second, a constant reminder that the only reason he's able to see these colours is because of the fact that Wilbur exists, because Wilbur's alive.
Tommy hates it. He hates Wilbur and he hates the colour yellow and he hates the fact that he can't fucking escape from either of them. Tommy slides down onto the ground, dragging his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. He listens to the birds sing in his ears and feels the wind blow over him, ruffling his hair. He pretends like he doesn't hear Wilbur and Techno - pink - talking underneath of the ground. Tommy pretends like he doesn't feel himself cry, and he pretends that Wilbur's words didn't hurt him. He pretends like his words weren't true. He pretends a lot of things, and Tommy wishes that he could just stop.
Techno parries Tommy back, raising his shielded arm to block Tubbo's sword. He pivots, keeping his weight on his left leg rather than his right, breathing out through his nose as he grips his sword a little tighter. "You wanna be a hero, Tommy?" Techno taunts, grinning at the boy in front of him, seeing red everywhere, Tommy's face flashing in his head over and over again to the point where he thinks he's going to get a headache. "Then-"
Techno cries out in agony as he feels something go wrong. Something is wrong, something is..
He watches as Tommy screams, clutching at his stomach, doubling over and falling to the ground a second later, curling up into a ball. Techno falls to his knees, gritting his teeth as he tries to bite back his cries of pain, digging his fingernails into the dirt, nearly hyperventilating. The pain is overwhelming, it's so awful, he can't think he can't breathe he can't do anything he's going to die he's going to die he's going to die, Techno is going to die. He sobs, gasping for air, collapsing to the ground, unable to support his weight any longer. Techno squeezes his eyes shut, screwing his face up as the screams from Tommy fade. He can't even stop his own screams, no matter how hard he bites down on his tongue. He tastes blood, but Techno doesn't think that it's his, and he doesn't know why.
Techno opens his eyes, glancing up at the sky, his heart stopping in his chest, going entirely still. The sun is grey.
The sun is grey, the sun isn't yellow. He turns his head a little, his vision swimming, his mind screaming at him. The dandelions to his side aren't yellow, either. They're grey. It's all washed out, everything that even had a hint of yellow in it, it's all gone now. All of it. Every single yellow thing is grey, there's no yellow anymore. The colour is completely gone, it doesn't even exist in his head, he can't even remember what it used to look like. Techno feels the clawing, intense pain start back up again, crawling up to his chest, worming its way up into his skull, nearly driving him mad with how agonizing it is. Techno sobs, dragging his knees up to his face, trying to forget what he's just seen, what he's just learnt. He feels like his stomach is being ripped apart, he feels like he's been stabbed a million times over. He can hear Tommy's screaming right next to him, his cries mixed in with Techno's. Somewhere further from them, Techno can hear Phil's cries of pain.
Techno sobs, trying so desperately to forget what he's learnt.
Wilbur is dead.
Wilbur is dead.
His soulmate is dead. Tommy's soulmate is dead, Phil's soulmate is dead. He's dead, Wilbur is dead. It's the only thing that makes sense, it's the only reason any of this could be happening right now. Techno cries into the ground, sobbing and howling and screaming out in pain as he realises that Wilbur is actually gone. Wilbur's gone and he's dead, he's not coming back, no one comes back from the dead. Wilbur is gone. Wilbur's dead, and Techno couldn't do a single thing to save him. Fighting Tommy was already enough pain, it already made his chest heavy and hurt, it made his head spin and his eyes water, but it was nothing in comparison to this. Nothing will ever rival this, Techno thinks to himself, gripping his stomach as tight as he can.
Wilbur is dead, and with him, he took not only Techno, but Tommy and Phil too.
Techno cracks open an eye, seeing green and red, seeing Phil and Tommy's faces flash behind his eyes for a second, a constant reminder that those are his soulmates and that they're alive. He looks up at the sky, desperate to see the colour yellow, to see Wilbur's face, but he doesn't. It's just grey. The sun is grey, everything that he thinks might have been yellow once is no longer that colour.
Wilbur is dead, and with him, he took the colour from Techno's world. From Tommy and Phil's world.
Wilbur is dead.
Techno sobs into the ground, waves of pain rippling through his body. He can't get them to stop, so he doesn't try, he just reaches out, grabbing Tommy's wrist. The pain doesn't subside, not in the slightest, but his head is a little less blurred, his vision stops swimming as badly as it had been. Tommy blinks at him, his eyes full of tears. Tommy opens his mouth, and though Techno doesn't hear the words, he doesn't have to. He knows what Tommy is saying.
He's gone.
Wilbur thinks that he should have realised that this was a bad idea beforehand, but it's far, far too late for that now. Wilbur grips Phil's shoulders, burying his head against his father's chest, tears pouring down his face as he feels the sword embed itself into his stomach. Oh. Wilbur did that. He didn't mean to..he didn't think..fuck. Wilbur breathes out, trembling against Phil's chest as he realises what he's just done. Phil wouldn't kill him. Phil wouldn't kill him, fucking obviously. That had to have been him, then. Wilbur didn't mean to do that, he didn't think the sword was that close, he could have sworn that he heard Phil drop it. Of course Phil wouldn't have killed him. It would have hurt Phil more than either of them could ever say, it would have hurt not only Phil, but also Techno and Tommy. It would have been enough to kill them, it would destroy them.
It will destroy them, Wilbur thinks as he feels himself dying. Phil is trying his best to hold back his cries of anguish and screams of agony already, Wilbur can tell. He can tell, he's not stupid. He's lost a soulmate before, though that was long ago. Wilbur knows what they're all going through, what's happening to them. Wilbur can't bring himself to care, no matter how much he thinks that he should. Why would he care about the people who were so hellbent on hurting him? He stares up at the cave roof above them, feeling tears trail down his face. Maybe they weren't trying to hurt him, maybe he was just being paranoid. But it's far too late for him to regret what he's done, so Wilbur pushes all of those feelings down, every single one of them, and waits to die.
Death is slow, Wilbur learns as he lays there on the ground, half-cradled in Phil's arms. Phil cries against his chest, pained gasps of breath escaping his mouth with every passing minute. Phil is trying his best to not let Wilbur know he's breaking, and Wilbur thinks that if he were going to live from this, he'd appreciate that. Wilbur reaches up with a trembling arm and an even shakier hand, gently resting it against the side of Phil's face. "You can stop pretending now, Phil," Wilbur murmurs, a short bark of laughter escaping him. Wilbur cries out, his chest tightening as the words leave his throat. It hurts. All of this, it hurts so much. Phil, Techno, and Tommy are in more pain than him, though. They have to be, they have to be. Losing a soulmate is the worst pain anyone could ever feel. Wilbur would know, he does know. "Just cry, Phil," Wilbur whispers, the words sounding wrong on his tongue. "Just cry. It's okay, you don't have to be strong."
"Why?" Phil asks, his voice coming out in a shattered, forced whisper. "Why'd you do this, Will? What was the point? Why did you hurt all of us?" Wilbur leans back, closing his eyes, not bothering to open them again. He's going to die soon, he isn't going to be alive for much longer, he knows that. It's fine, he wanted this, anyways. He lets his arms fall to his sides, feeling them land in blood. Wilbur cracks an eye open for only half a second, squeezing them shut immediately after. Tommy's stupid face appears in his mind, his stupid grin and laugh flashing behind his eyes. Wilbur's blood is red, it's still unfortunately red. And even though Wilbur promises himself and Tommy that one day he would look at the colour red and stop associating it with Tommy, he was lying. Wilbur knows that once a soulmate is assigned to you, once you meet them, you'll never get them out of your head.
"I'm selfish," Wilbur answers, voice dull. He feels himself fading. He isn't going to be here much longer. He's dying, he's dying, he's actually dying. Wilbur feels panic flare up in his chest, but he pushes it back down, swallowing back his cries of pain and terror. "Dad?" The word escapes his lips before he can stop himself. He's never called Phil that, not to his face. He supposes it's too late to take it back now. "I'm sorry," Wilbur murmurs, laying back in silence, laying back and listening to his soulmates' cries. "I'm sorry. I.." he breathes out, his breath coming out raspy and shaky. "Thank you."
"Will, I don't.." Phil gasps, a scream ripping from his throat. "Will! Wilbur, no- no, Wilbur, I didn't- Will. Listen to me, don't-"
The words fade out, and Wilbur lets them. He doesn't bother to try and cling onto life, he doesn't want to. He fades out of reality, and the last thing that he hears are his soulmates starting to scream.
The world is boring without the colour yellow, Phil learns. He knew that before Wilbur's death, back when he couldn't see any colour. But it's worse now. It's worse now because he had that colour ripped away from him, taken from him in a matter of seconds. Phil blinks up at the sky, staring at the dull grey of the sun. He looks away fairly quickly, not wanting to burn his eyes out, even though it feels like he should. He stares at the ground, at the pale green grass that seems to stare back up at him. Phil leans on his heels, glancing over his shoulder at the house behind him, gasping in pain when he sees a poppy settled by the porch. Tommy's grin and face appear behind his eyes, Phil can hear his laugh and his voice, he can hear Tommy saying something stupid. Phil moves faster than he thinks he's ever moved before, raising his foot and crushing the poppy below it, kicking snow over the broken flower a second later.
Phil closes his eyes, breathing out. He doesn't want to see colour anymore, he thinks to himself. It would be so much easier to not have to see, to not have to deal with any of this. Phil glances towards Techno's house, breathing out. He moves up the stairs, pushing open the door. "Techno," Phil calls out, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his heart break all over again in his chest. He hears Techno's footsteps come down from upstairs, and he turns his head, opening his eyes for a few seconds, furrowing his eyebrows together. "I don't want to.." he breathes out, running a hand through his hair. "Where do you keep your gauze?"
Techno stares at him, concern washing over his face. "Phil, come on," Techno murmurs, voice soft. "I know that you miss him, 'cause I do, too. I know how it feels. But you can't run from this," Techno shakes his head, reaching up to untuck the necklaces that are normally tucked into his shirt. They're grey. Phil blinks, realising that they once were golden. They were yellow once. They still are, Phil thinks to himself a second later. Just because they've lost the ability to see yellow doesn't mean that the colour simply doesn't exist anymore, no matter how much he wishes it did. "Wilbur wouldn't want that."
"Wilbur is fucking dead," Phil sneers at him, crossing his arms against his chest. "Wilbur wouldn't give a shit what I did. He didn't give a shit when he ran into me when he knew I had that goddamn sword in my head," he shakes his head, anger bubbling up to his throat. "Wilbur doesn't care, Techno. He can't care, he's dead."
"Yeah, I fuckin' know that," Techno narrows his eyes at him, tucking the necklaces back into his shirt. "I know that, Phil. It's not like I forgot that feelin' I had when he died," he sneers, sounding bitter and angry. "It's not just somethin' that you can forget. It isn't somethin' anyone can ever forget," Techno turns away. "I'm never goin' to forget that feelin' of when Wilbur died. None of us will. None of us can."
Phil looks away, staring at the open door, watching the snow fall. "I don't want to have to deal with it," he murmurs, shoulders slouching. "I don't want to lose another soulmate, Techno. I don't want to have to see the colour fade from my world ever again. I don't want to deal with it. I'm selfish, and I know it," Phil stares down at the ground, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm selfish, and it's wrong of me to want this, but I do."
"Too bad," Techno whispers, shaking his head. "Too bad, Phil. We deal with this, all of us. We're all dealin' with this. This isn't just a you problem, not this time," Techno moves to stand in front of him. "You don't get to run away from this and leave the rest of us behind. You don't get to do that ever again," Phil stares up at him, narrowing his eyes up at his soulmate. One of them, at least. The other is back in L'manberg, happy and free, and the other is fucking dead. "You get to deal with this like the rest of this. You're not allowed to fuckin' run, Phil. I'm sick and tired of you leavin' your problems, and us, behind. This isn't somethin' you can get away from with no consequences."
Phil pushes past him, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Fine," he wanders down the steps, listening to the snow crunch under his feet. "Fine. I'll live with this," Phil turns back to face him, narrowing his eyes sharply at the man in front of him. "I don't see why you're so intent on making sure I feel the same pain as you do."
Techno scoffs, crossing his arms even tighter against his chest. "Because we're soulmates, Phil. Soulmates share their pain. It's why Wilbur's death didn't kill one of us. It's why we're all still here. We shared that, and we're goin' to keep sharin' that. I'm not goin' to die because one of my soulmates decided he wanted to take the easy way out like his son." Phil whirls back around, locking eyes with Techno.
"Shut the fuck up," Phil snarls, clenching his hands into fists. "That wasn't fair. That wasn't fucking fair, Techno. That wasn't fair at all." Techno looks away, his chest heaving for a few seconds. Seconds that feel like years.
"I know," he murmurs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"Yeah," Phil scoffs, turning back, moving away from Techno and their shared home. "You fucking shouldn't have."
Phil knew that before Wilbur's death, things were already crumbling. He thinks that Wilbur dying was the final kick in an already falling mountain.
"I hope that you die out there."
"I can't believe you thought that I'd come and help you."
"Why are you even still here? Didn't you hear me the first time? I don't want you here, Tommy. I don't want to see you. I don't want you here."
"One day, Tommy, I swear to god, I'll see the colour red and I won't even think of you. I swear that one day that colour isn't goin' to mean anythin' to me."
Tommy wades through the snow, trembling as he starts the trek back to L'manberg, feeling his fingertips and ears go numb. He looks back over his shoulder at Techno's house, watching as the man stares at him as he walks through the snow. Tommy turns away, ripping his gaze away from the man who he used to consider one of his brothers. Tommy reaches up, wiping away his tears with his numbed hands, biting down on his lip and feeling nothing. He runs a hand through his hair, wishing that something in his life could go right for once. "You know," Tommy stops moving, spinning around to lock eyes with Techno. He doesn't even know if Techno can hear him or not - he's moved a fair distance away from him. But judging by the way that Techno's ears flick, Tommy thinks that he can hear him just fine. "You always represented a lot of colours to me."
Techno opens his mouth, reaching for his crossbow, but Tommy shakes his head, feeling his throat go dry. "One day, Technoblade, I'll see the colour pink and I won't think of you. One day, I'll see the colour silver and orange and every other colour you let me see, and I won't think of you at all. I swear to god, I'll stop thinking about you. I'd rather go blind than have to think of your stupid fucking face every single-"
Tommy cries out, doubling over for a second. He watches as Techno does the same, and panic flares up in his chest.
Phil is...dead?
That has to be it, that's the only reason that this would be happening again. Tommy screams out, tears falling from his face. He screams until his throat is raw, he screams until he coughs up blood, he screams until he can't hear himself anymore. Tommy feels nothing but agony and numbness, and he hates it so much, he hates this so fucking much he hates himself so much he hates it all he hates so much and he can't stop he can't...
Tommy gasps for air, looking up past the snow to see if Techno is still on the ground, and-
Techno's hair is grey. Techno's hair is grey. Tommy's eyes go wide, and he swivels his head to the left, staring at the lilies to the side of him. They were pink, once. They were pink, Tommy swears to god that they were pink. "Techno?" Tommy winces when the name tumbles from his blood-stained lips. "Techno?" Tommy asks again, wondering how long it's been since the pain stopped. The pain isn't fully gone, not quite yet. He feels his heart pound in his chest, and with every single beat of his heart, a new wave of pain washes over him. Tommy clutches at his chest, watching as Techno stumbles up to his knees, his fingernails dug into the wooden porch underneath of him. "Techno..?" Tommy calls out, his voice weak and raspy and pathetic. "Techno, I.." Techno looks up at him, his eyes huge, tears streaming down his face. Tommy blinks a few times, reaching up with his other hand to dab his fingers in the blood that covers his lips. He reaches down with trembling hands, dragging his finger over his other arm.
He watches as Techno immediately turns his head to look at his own arm.
He watches as Techno turns back to look at him, his mouth half-open and his eyes huge.
Techno shakes his head.
Tommy flinches, snapping his head to the side, staring down at the ground so hard he swears he can burn a hole through the earth.
Techno isn't his soulmate anymore.
He's not his soulmate, but he's not dead. He's not..he isn't..
Tommy cries, broken and full of anguish. They broke their bond on purpose. They did that on purpose. They're dead to one another, the world thinks that they're dead to each other.
The world took them away from each other.
Tommy sobs, crying into the snow, wishing to the god he doesn't believe in that he could restart it all.
"You've fucked it again," Wilbur grins at the man in front of him, his sort of soulmate with ram horns and golden eyes. "You've lost once again, Schlatt. Look at you go," he smiles, leaning back, crossing his arms against his chest. Wilbur closes his eyes, feeling the wound in his stomach hurt a little less than it normally does. "Don't you think it's kind of funny how we always end up here?" He asks, opening his eyes again, holding up his hand of cards, splaying them out between his fingers. "You're really bad at this, Schlatt."
Schlatt smiles at him, leaning forwards a little, his face twisting up into a sort of sneer, a sort of smirk. "You're one to talk, Wilbur," Schlatt leans back, picking up one of the cards that lay in between them. "At least I wasn't the one who put myself on a sword to get away from my problems. I think I won at life, which is the most important game to win, anyways. Don't you think, Wilbur?" Wilbur rolls his eyes, looking away. He sets his cards down onto the ground, heaving a quiet sigh. "Oh, come on, now. Don't look at me like that. You know that I'm right, don't you? You left your little brother out to die. You left your dad with your body."
"He's not my little brother," Wilbur looks up at him, narrowing his eyes for a few moments. The silence between them grows, a numb, hollow space that neither of them seem to ever be able to breach. "Techno's not my older brother. Phil isn't my dad. They're my soulmates, Schlatt. Come on, now," Wilbur smiles, feeling bitter and angry and empty all at the same time. "You know that better than anyone. You were the one who told me that people could have more than one soulmate. You were the one who told me to accept that fact. To let me know it was okay to have more. To let me know it was fine to move on from you."
"Huh," Schlatt smiles, closing his eyes and raising his eyebrows up. "Maybe if you hadn't decided to tell me that you hated me, we'd still be..you know."
"We still are," Wilbur sighs, reaching down for his knife in his belt. He flips it open, holding out the palm of his hand. "If I cut open my hand," Wilbur leans forwards, locking eyes with the man in front of him. "Will you feel the pain, too?" He smiles, watching panic flare up in Schlatt's eyes. "Come on, sheep," he beams, his own eyes crinkle at the sides. "You know that I'm right, don't you? There's a reason that my jumper is still gold to you, right?" He grins. "You can see yellow, Schlatt. There's a reason that I can see blue, and you know damn well that you're that reason. If I cut open my hand and drew on my arm with the blood," Wilbur looks away for a second, "you'd see it on your arm, and you know it."
Schlatt looks away, narrowing his eyes sharply. "I don't want to hear about it. You were dead to me for a long time, and it was the fucking same for you. I was dead to you, you were dead to me. It doesn't fucking make sense why the world's decided that we're supposed to be together again. It's bullshit, Wilbur, you and I both know that. I don't see why you're so intent on bringing it up," Wilbur laughs, tapping his knife against the palm of his hand, watching as Schlatt winces every single time the blade hits his flesh. "Stop. Stop, Wilbur. Fucking stop it."
"What, are you scared?" Wilbur giggles, feeling his heart soar, a petty, bitter feeling that he hasn't felt in a long time. "Schlatt, just admit it, won't you? You're so mad about me beating you in a game of cards, why? Is it because you're just starting to realise that you're stuck here?" Wilbur smiles, setting his knife down onto the ground, pushing it forward so that it's in front of Schlatt. "Is it because you're realising you're stuck here..with your soulma-"
"Don't fucking say it!" Schlatt shouts. "I don't want to fucking hear it. I don't want to hear it, Wilbur! I don't want to hear that fucking word! I'm sick and tired of seeing that stupid fucking colour all the time. I got so used to not seeing it, and then you just got to come back? You got to fucking come back into my life and make me see those fucking colours again? It wasn't fair, Wilbur! It wasn't fucking fair, why the hell do you think I don't want you to say the word?"
Wilbur smiles, glancing away from the man in front of him. "It wasn't fair to me, either. When you pushed me into the lava. That wasn't very fair. You really think I wanted to tell you that I wished the colour blue wouldn't stick around in my eyes?" Wilbur scoffs, staring down at the ground. "You really think that I wanted to break us apart on purpose? I didn't have a choice."
"You always had a choice, you piece of shit," Schlatt sneers at him. "It was an accident, what I did. You fucking took our- our fucking souls, and then you decided to break them in half, 'cause you were angry at me. I was a kid, Wilbur!"
"So was I!" Wilbur shouts back. "So the fuck was I! I was a fucking kid, too, Schlatt! You-" Wilbur's words shift into a scream, and he feels himself doubling over, collapsing to the ground. He clutches at his stomach, feeling his entire body set on fire, feeling his head scream at him, feeling the world-
Go blank.
"Wilbur?"
"Wilbur!"
"Will! You fucking idiot, come back, you can't fade, not right now! Wilbur?"
"One of your soulmates just died, Wilbur!"
"Wilbur!"
"Wilbur?"
Wilbur snaps his eyes open, tears streaming down his face. The pain has mostly faded now, it's mostly blurred out into nothingness. He feels terror and panic settle in his chest, reaching up and clutching at his chest, breathing out. He turns to the side, seeing Schlatt crouched down by him, his arm wrapped around him. "You've got a guest, pretty boy." Schlatt nods ahead, and Wilbur knows. He knows, he knows.
He turns his head slowly, taking in a shaky breath. He looks forwards, staring directly at Tommy.
"You," Wilbur whispers, feeling even more scared now, "are not supposed to be here."
Tommy laughs, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He looks exhausted. He looks awful. "Wasn't quite by choice," Tommy smiles. "Funny, how I still.." he trails off for a second. "Can you see..the..you know. The..um," Tommy breathes out. "You know what I mean. Can you see it?"
Wilbur feels like dying.
He feels awful, he feels like dying, he feels like he is dying.
"No," Wilbur whispers. "I can't."
Tommy nods a few times, looking away. "I can't see yours, either. I guess we fucked it up, huh?"
Once again, Wilbur's broken another soulmate bond. But this time, unlike Schlatt, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get it back.
Techno sits at Tommy's grave with Phil's hand hovering behind him, almost touching him but not quite. Techno looks up at the man at his side, breathing out. "Red and gold," Techno murmurs, pushing himself off of the ground. "It's not fair."
"No," Phil agrees, softly. "It isn't."
Techno runs a hand through his hair, swallowing. He looks up at the sky, all of the washed out colours blurring together. He looks down at the grass, which he thinks is supposed to be green, and heaves a sigh. "When did our bond break?" Techno asks, his voice coming out in a whisper. "When did you stop bein' able to see pink? When did I stop bein' able to see green?"
Phil smiles at him, patting his shoulder softly. "A month ago, I think," he shrugs. "Maybe it really just wasn't meant to be, huh, mate?" Phil sighs, turning away from Tommy's grave. Techno swallows past the lump in his throat, screwing up his face, squeezing his eyes shut. "At least we're not going to go through that kind of pain again."
Techno moves away from him without saying another word, refusing to look back at the man. Refusing to look back at someone who used to be his soulmate.
He would want to feel that pain again. It would remind him that he has people in his life who he loves, who are supposed to love him.
Techno tilts his head back and stares up at the rain, wishing to god that he hadn't fucked it all up, Wishing to god that he could go back.
It's funny, he thinks to himself, how much he hated his soulmates and wanted them gone.
It's funny, Techno thinks now, how much he wishes that he had them back.