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i'd forgotten people are kind..

Summary:

He covered up all the mirrors in his house.

OR

Tommy doesn't like that new white streak in his hair. Tubbo and Ranboo help him.

Notes:

I feel it's necessary you all know that the name for the doc this was written on was called "write this when you wake up or i will cry". Past me - I want you to know I did not write it exactly when I woke up, but it's done now lmao

(Title from Ready Now by Dodie)

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Instagram/Twitter: WhatTheWilbur

Work Text:

He covered up all the mirrors in his house.

 

TommyInnit covered up every single mirror in his house, all thanks to the thick, long, white strip of hair which cascaded down his shoulder. It appeared once Dream resurrected him. Saying he hated it was an understatement.

 

He loathed it.

 

It wasn’t like the other things that reminded him of the past. It wasn’t like the discs or the big crater where L’manberg once proudly stood. He could easily avoid those things now. There were other discs to listen to - other routes to take to get from place to place. His hair, on the other hand, was always there. It wasn’t like he had a hat or hood to cover it with (well, he did - both belonged to Wilbur. Wearing them under circumstances like this felt wrong to him). He wasn’t about to cut his hair, which now reached his shoulders. Niki was the one who cut it last, not long before the election and the creation of Pogtopia. He wasn’t sure why cutting it felt like such a big deal for him, but it was.

So, Tommy dealt with it in his own way. A way which didn’t involve hats or jackets, or cutting his hair.

 

He covered up all the mirrors in his house.

 

Tubbo’s house was the problem though. He was arguably over there more than he was at his house. The incredibly large mansion seemed to have mirrors in every room. Every room, including his own. Sure, he could cover it up with the extra blanket Tubbo had given him. But they’d ask questions. Tubbo would wonder why his best friend covered up the mirror that the two made silly faces in when they were kids. Ranboo would wonder why Tommy had covered up the grand mirror, forged from shimmering diamonds and gold which were found deep underground. Micheal, poor, sweet, Micheal would wonder why his Uncle Tommy was so sad every time he saw himself in the mirror.

 

And so he didn’t cover the mirror. He didn’t cover the mirror for the sake of his friends.

 

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Tubbo noticed something was off with Tommy the second he’d officially moved in with him, Ranboo, and Micheal. Sure, he’d noticed it back when Tommy simply visited the mansion. But the off-putting behavior became more obvious once he’d settled into the new home. He noticed how he’d look at the old framed pictures of him and Tubbo on the wall, short golden hair glowing in the sunlight… or how Tommy would walk the long way around rooms or duck below the view of the mirrors in the bedrooms.

 

“You’ve noticed Tommy recently, haven’t you?” Tubbo asks his husband one night, each of them holding a warm mug of hot chocolate.

“Yeah,” Ranboo replies, absentmindedly stirring the drink with his spoon, “This isn’t normal, is it?”

“Not at all,” Tubbo shakes his head before sipping from the mug, “He didn’t do this before he was in prison with Dream.”

Ranboo shrugs, “Maybe it has something to do with that white strand of hair he has.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember after doomsday?” Ranboo asks, intently looking at his husband, “Loud noises were hard for you, yeah?” Tubbo winces at the memories but nods his head nonetheless.

“What if it’s like that?” Ranboo asks, “But instead of loud noises it’s his hair for him.”

“That one strand holds too many memories for him…” Tubbo trails off, “He died, Ranboo..”

“He did,” Ranboo nods solemnly, “But he’s alive now.” Tubbo doesn’t respond, eyes entranced in the spiraling liquid which sits in the bee-themed mug. He could’ve helped, couldn’t he? Tears stream down his face and land on his hand. Ranboo frowns and reaches out, brushing the tears away on his cheeks, ignoring the pain which nips at his fingertips.

“We may not have been able to help him then,” Ranboo starts, “But we’ll help him now, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo replies, nodding slowly. He leans forward and touches his forehead to Ranboo’s - a gentle headbutt of sorts, “Thanks, boo.”

“No problem,” He smiles sadly, “C’mon, we should get to bed... It’s late.”

Tubbo sighs as he places his mug on the coffee table, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Ranboo mumbles, causing tubbo to chuckle.

“Sure thing, my beloved,” Tubbo smiles as he stands, “Sure thing.”

“You head up, I’ll be there in a bit, alright?” Tubbo nods and kisses his husband’s cheek before turning to walk up the grand staircase.

 

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Ranboo had a mission. Tubbo was asleep now, as were Tommy and Micheal. Hair dye, from Ranboo’s experience, was easy to make. Made of a mixture of crushed flowers, water, and magma cream - the flowers being poppies in Tommy’s case. If Ranboo was right about the nagging strip of white hair, then maybe... just maybe, this was how they could help out.

Turns out, Ranboo didn’t sleep at all that night. Between preparing the hair dye and his emotions being a mix of excitement and nerves… sleep was impossible. The sun now peaked through the window, casting golden light into the room. Tubbo would be awake soon.

“Da?” Ranboo turns around, seeing his son in the doorway. He smiles as he puts out his arms, signaling the boy to come to him.

“Hi Micheal,” He smiles as he lifts him into his arms, “How did you sleep?” Ranboo listens intently to his son as he starts rambling gibberish, nodding and asking questions about his story every once and a while.

“Hungry!” He yells out at one point, Ranboo laughs, standing up with Micheal in his arms.

“What would you like? We might have some berries left from last night,” He offers. Micheal excitedly claps his hands, making Ranboo laugh. The walk to the kitchen is short - and soon enough, Micheal is sitting at the table with a bowl full of his favorite berries. Ranboo starts preparing breakfast for him, Tubbo, and Tommy - Pancakes are always a hit for the group. He turns every once and a while, making sure Micheal wouldn’t choke on his food. Soon enough, Tubbo walked into the kitchen with Tommy - both looking extremely tired.

“Mornin’ you two,” Ranboo chuckled as he flipped a pancake, “Food should be ready in 5 minutes or so.” Tommy nods and sits down next to Micheal who was happily squealing at the sight of his favorite uncle.

“Ran, did you sleep at all last night,” Tubbo asks, standing beside him.

Ranboo shakes his head, smiling, “No, but I have a good reason for it.”

Tubbo crosses his arms, “And that is…”

“I’ll show you after breakfast.” Tubbo laughs and rolls his eyes and begins to head to the table to eat. Ranboo comes over with a stack of pancakes which are carefully balanced on a plate and the group digs in.

“You’re pancakes are always so good, ‘Boo,” Tubbo smiles, taking a bite.

Ranboo smiled at the compliment, “Thanks Bee.”

The rest of their homemade breakfast is spent in silence (aside from Micheals’s excited babbles to Tommy). Tubbo took the dishes and followed Ranboo to the sink while Tommy took Micheal into the living room to play.

“So,” Tubbo started, “What were you up working on last night.”

“I thought about what we were talking about last night with Tommy,” Ranboo replies, handing a plate to Tubbo, “I made him something.”

“Oh?” Tubbo tilts his head, “What’d you make?”

“Hair dye,” Ranboo replies, “If we’re right about the situation, maybe dying it will help him feel better about it?”

“Ranboo you’re a genius!” Tubbo yells, “I’d hug you but.. wet hands.” Tubbo shows him his hands, dripping with warm water from the sink.

Ranboo laughs at the remark, “You can hug me all you want once you’re dry.”

“Perfect,” Tubbo chuckles as he takes the last couple plates from him, “But seriously, that’s a great plan to help him a bit.” Ranboo simply nods. Tubbo turns the sink off and dries his hands with a towel, taking Ranboo’s hand afterward.

“C’mon, let’s go see what those two are up to,” He gestures his head to Tommy and Micheal in the other room, “And give Tommy his present.” Another nod from Ranboo sends the two off to the living room.

Tommy considered himself to be a good uncle, so when Micheal grabbed the bin of miscellaneous action figures out from under the coffee table… well, Tommy couldn’t say no. He was handed a superhero action figure - one with short blonde hair and a red and white suit. Micheal tapped the head of it with his hoof, “You.” He said, a wide smile spread across his face. Tommy looked at the piglin quizzically.

Micheal rolled his eyes, clearly upset with Tommy’s lack of understanding, “Subaheo.” he managed to babble. Tommy could make out the word. Micheal called him a superhero.

“Me?” Tommy asked, breathless,“I’m a-” Micheal quickly nodded his head, smiling at his uncle. Tommy could’ve cried right then and there. Alas, Ranboo and Tubbo joined the two in the room - Ranboo held a container with red… paint in it.

“Da!” Micheal squealed, racing over to his dads who immediately smothered the little boy in affection.

“Hi Micheal!” Tubbo smiled as he scooped the boy up, “How was playing with Uncle Tommy?” Micheal squealed again, signifying that the little boy was having a good time with him.

“Hey, speaking of your Uncle Tommy, do you think we could steal him from you for a bit?” Ranboo asked him, “You can play with him all you want once we’re done, we just need to talk to him about something.” The three watch Micheal pounder the proposal, eventually nodding as Tubbo made a noise of affirmation and carried him into his playroom.

“Did I.. uh,” Tommy started awkwardly, “Did I do something?”

“What?” Ranboo asked, unwrapping the paint from the plastic, “No, not at all! Just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“Micheals playing in his room now,” Tubbo says, returning to the living room and sitting next to Ranboo.

“Okay, what is going on with you two?” Tommy asks, folding his arms, “You’ve been acting weird all morning!”

“Well-”

“-We’ve noticed you’ve been acting weird, Tommy,” Tubbo cut off, “Since the… y’know.” Tommy stays silent. They’re going to kick you out. They’re going to-
“Is it because of what happened in there?” Ranboo asks, “You don’t have to talk about it but.. we’ll listen if that’s what you want.” Tubbo nods his head in agreement.

“I-” Tommy starts, fuck, he’s already crying… “Dream.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo nods, “Dream’s done a lot, hasn’t he?”

Tommy simply nods, tears falling onto his lap, “Dream killed me and left me with this constant reminder of it.” He picks up the white strand of hair, showing it to the two.

“It’s different from everything else,” He continues, voice quieter, “I can avoid everything else… but this- this is always here.”

Tubbo nods his head as he gets up, moving to Tommy, “Can I give you a hug?” Tommy nodded hesitantly, letting Tubbo wrap his arms around him. Tubbo kept him close as Ranboo spoke.

“We thought that might’ve been the case,” he says, holding out the bowl to Tommy, “-so I made a little something.”

“Paint?” Tommy hiccups.

Ranboo chuckles, “Hair dye.”

“We can cover it up with something that makes you happier,” Tubbo smiles at his friend.

“Okay..” Tommy trails off.

“You don’t have to!” Ranboo backtracks, “We thought it might help if you wanted to try it.”

“No I- It’s a good idea,” Tommy replies, wiping the tears away with his hand, “Don’t make me cut my hair please.”

“We wouldn’t force you to cut your hair,” Ranboo says, “Unless you wanted us to.”

“Don’t wanna,” Tommy says.

“Then we won’t.”

“Can we dye it?” He mumbles, looking between his friends, “Now?” Ranboo chuckles and takes the bowl back.

“Of course,” He says, dipping the black brush into the paste. Tubbo keeps talking to Tommy. He talks about Micheal and the good memories of L’Manberg and other happy things as Ranboo chats along and dyes the strand. Eventually, the process is done, and Tommy is carefully washing the access dye out of the strand.

 

Then he looks in the mirror.

 

It’s not him from the prison. It’s not him dead. It’s Him. It’s Tommy.

 

(After that, Micheal comes out of his room and sees his uncle’s new hair and squeals happily - but not before begging his parents to dye his hair to match Tommy’s. Of course, the two comply, dying a strand on the left side of his head a vibrant red - just like Tommy.)

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