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Tommy was rushing through the woods, his feet slamming deep footprints into the built-up snowfall and kicking up fluffing specks of the naturally white ice. Excitement thrummed through his scorching veins, providing jolting boosts of raging adrenaline and pulsating energy as he continued his rushing sprint.
He needed to get to Snowchester – that was his primary goal. Get to Snowchester, pause for a short breath and break, and then find Tubbo.
Tommy was desperate to speak to his best friend; he was desperate to get in contact with him again; he was desperate to have a much-needed conversation with the older hybrid teen.
Because they really did need to speak.
Really, really needed to.
See, Tommy had had this idea that he wanted an opinion on – well, he'd had it for a while, actually. It'd been sat there, hidden in the very back of his mind, festering and twisting in looping vines of inspiration and anguished need. It was large and important enough that it had Tommy's heart racing and his breath coming out in puffs of short, exhilarated bursts.
But he was nervous too, amongst all of that joy, no doubt about it. Although, the overwhelming delight at the idea – the one that Tommy had just finally been able to bring himself to execute - was more than enough to overpower any negative emotions.
(Well, sort of.)
A soft breath tumbled from Tommy's parted lips, his face flushed red, and his thin body covered by a sheen of glistening sweat (even despite the incredibly low Arctic temperatures.) Blonde wisps of curling hair wafted against his face, sticking slightly against perspiring skin, and some strands were drifting through the whipping air.
He felt free and alive, more so than he ever had before.
It was exhilarating.
A satisfied exhale, and Tommy raked trembling fingers through his snow-speckled locks.
He was nearly there, nearly at Tubbo's commune-like home.
Tommy could already feel the warm, emitting glow of yellow and orange glinting from overhanging lanterns; Tommy could already smell the reassuring scent of sweet honeysuckle and freshly baked bread; Tommy could already hear Tubbo's high-pitched laughter and excited rambling.
The blonde's heart throbbed somewhat – whether the slight pulsating was from smoldering longing or pivoting happiness, he couldn't tell.
It didn't really matter too much, though, because Tommy would be with Tubbo soon, and Tubbo would definitely know how to help the younger teen with any issues that he may be suffering from.
A splitting grin wormed its way across Tommy's soft features at that thought, and he only moved to speed up his volant running. His legs were working overdrive, chest heaving, and lips parted – but it was all completely worth it.
God, Tommy really couldn't wait to find his fiery friend.
Not too long after his racing trip through the woods, the blonde teen was finally stumbling into the walled confines of one, rather inviting, Snowchester.
It hadn't changed too much since Tommy's last visit – predominantly spruce and dark oak homes taking up most of the snowy area, with some new additions like a towering windmill and the odd, coloured stall, but it was otherwise the exact same. (The heartwarming similarity being something that Tommy reveled in.)
"Tubbo?" He called out immediately, already beginning to shout his friend's name as Tommy trotted over pathed walkways and peered around stone corners.
He knew where Tubbo's house was – it was the largest one in Snowchester, after all. Though obviously not too large. It was a decently sized cabin, with thick walls of planked wood and soft, woolen exteriors added here and there to make up a comforting, pleasant home. (Tommy was just a little envious.)
"Tubbo?" He shouted again, padding up the few sturdy steps, and then he began to knock at the front door. The thumping, repetitive pattern was familiar and specific; it was a pattern that he'd used since he was a kid and one that Tubbo had often tried to copy. "Tubbo? You in there, big man?"
A few bouts of lapsing silence passed.
Huh.
Tommy wasn't particularly sure about what he'd do if Tubbo didn't show up at all – he'd definitely be disappointed, saddened, maybe a little downtrodden, too. He'd come all the way to the commune in hopes of finding the older, only for Tubbo to not show?
Tommy's hands clenched to quivering fists before dropping against his sides once more.
But it would be fine obviously, because Tubbo did have other duties around Snowchester that weren't waiting around for Tommy to appear, just...
(Tommy liked to hope that his best friend would be here for him, at least this time.)
A sigh drifted from Tommy's cracked, blue-tinted lips, curiosity – and a small semblance of yearning - blooming in his water-licked gaze of wandering waves and lulling lakes.
Perhaps he should have said that he was coming beforehand? That he was going to show up at the house? Perhaps-
"Tommy?"
The large door had peeled open, creaking and groaning for a short second or two before it was fully pulled out. The inside of the home was dark at first, filled to the brim with curling wisps of echoing pitch and taunting ink, before a glowing lantern was being held up, revealing the very exhausted (and very confused) form of one ex-president.
Oh!
"Tubbo!"
Now, Tommy wasn't one for touch – not anymore, at least. (Not after what had happened with... Dream.) But Tubbo? Tubbo was the one exception to his metaphorically built antisocial walls.
The lanky blonde practically threw himself to his shorter friend, arms winding around Tubbo's smaller body and shaking fingers dug into the hybrid's oversized nightshirt, gripping tight. Tommy's face was buried into soft locks, nestled right in-between a pair of sharp horns. He inhaled, having missed the reassuring scent of his best friend.
"Tubbo," He repeated quietly, grip tightening for a moment.
"...Tommy?" Tubbo returned both the name and the clutching embrace, though that action was with just a little hesitance. "Tommy-" He cleared his throat, "What are you doing here?"
A shaky breath.
Well, there was no turning back now, was there?
"I wanted to ask you something, Tubs."
There wasn't a lie in the world he could suddenly make up - nothing he could say but the exact truth.
"Oh. Yeah?"
They pulled apart a little, both drifting, so there was a hedge of space between their shaking bodies (even despite Tommy's left hand still being clutched onto Tubbo's own.)
Tommy's tongue clicked against the bottom of his dry mouth, and a hot spark of agonising apprehension ran rampage over his chest.
It should be easy; it should be such a simple thing to ask his best friend, but at the same time, it was also... not. Because see, it's not like the idea that Tommy had finally decided to execute was small; it was just really not. It was more of a drastic lifestyle change and would largely mean doing a lot to uproot their lives.
Of course, Tommy had no problem with that part, but perhaps Tubbo did? Perhaps Tubbo would miss... miss people, like... Jack Manifold? Captain Puffy? Sapnap?
But also, perhaps not.
"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."
There was a pause.
Tubbo's eyes widened.
"What?"
Confidence bloomed over Tommy's skin, taking hold as he babbled and rambled.
(He was completely unaware of the looming sorrow and grasping remorse that had begun to fill Tubbo's dark eyes.)
"Let's run away! It's like we said, remember? We'd get away from here, from the Dream SMP. We'd go far away, start a life together somewhere..." Tommy shrugged, optimism glistening in his eyes, "Somewhere that was just for us. We don't have to think about anyone else, not about Wilbur, not about Dream, not even about Technoblade. We can... we can be free, right?"
Tubbo swallowed.
"Tommy..."
"I know, I know, it's sudden, it's... I haven't given you much time to think about it, but I think it would be really good for us! We could have a completely fresh start, the... the dynamic duo, the clingy duo, right? That's us, isn't it?"
"Yes, but-"
"And it's been hard Tubs, all of this... all of this shit with Dream and Sam, and- and Schlatt and just... everything! I mean, I died! I died, I was beaten to death and- and now I'm back! It hurt so much, and I don't know how much longer I can stay around these parts, around Wilbur's... unfinished symphony."
"Tom-"
"Okay, I know that sounds bad and probably guilt-trippy, but I swear that's not what I was trying to do! I just... you know how it is," Tommy shrugged, gaze distant for a moment, "But what I'm trying to say is, Tubbo please. Please. Let's run away together. Let's leave, right here and right now. Let's grow old together, Tubbo – just me and you-"
"Tommy!"
The blonde's lips slammed shut, body freezing up for a moment before he relaxed. "Yeah, Tubs?"
There was a sanguine smile stretched across Tommy's lips. It was evident that he was nervous, from the way his hands twitched at his sides, and he couldn't help but to shuffle every so often. But above all? He was hopeful and more than confident in what Tubbo was going to reply with-
"I..."
"I can't!"
…
Tommy blinked.
"What?"
Tubbo's free fingers raked through his already messy hair, shifting backward and a little further away from the puzzled blonde. Tommy couldn't let go of Tubbo's left hand.
"I have a family now, Tommy! I can't just uproot my life and leave... I-"
Tommy's gaze flickered over towards behind Tubbo, behind his best friend. Ranboo was stood there, towards the back of the house and looking more than just a little conflicted. His hair was ruffled, nightshirt hanging off of his shoulder, and a small toddler was clutched within his encircling arms.
They were peering on, watching the two friends through tired - though curious - eyes.
Oh.
Oh, right.
That was it.
Tubbo had a family now, didn't he?
He had Ranboo, his husband, and he had Michael, his son.
A perfect, happy family.
There was no room for Tommy anymore.
Right.
How could Tommy have forgotten?
"Oh. Of course. That's okay," He started slowly, a blazing, fraudulent smile tugging on his features.
Tears were streaming down Tommy's pale cheeks.
"Don't worry about it, Tubs."
Tommy's body was shaking, jittering with waves of emotional agony.
"I get it."
His breaths were coming out in short, aching puffs.
Tommy dropped Tubbo's hand - the one he'd been desperately clutching onto.
"I'll see you around, okay? I'm sorry for bothering you."
"Wait, Tommy-"
Tommy sat back on the bench, knees drawn to his chest and the lulling, looping melody of 'Mellohi' drifting through the crisp air. Once, he had sat there with another green-coded figure, their hands clasped, and they had carefully leaned against one another.
Now, he sat alone, whispers of ghosts filling his ears and an empty space providing his only company.