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He’s not quite sure how he got here if he’s honest. He was pretty sure he was just asleep, in his little hut, not out here where it’s always cold but rarely snows. Distantly, as if his ears are present but he is not, he can hear shouting. He feels underwater, like his body is on auto-pilot, his brain hundreds of miles away. He sees flashes of colours and he hears rather than feels Tubbo beside. He can’t make out what he’s saying or who he’s talking to but he knows it’s Tubbo.
He thinks it’s Fundy beside him, or at least he’s pretty sure. He’s feeling himself reconnect and he’s almost annoyed. As if he wanted to stay on auto-pilot, ‘At least I won’t have to deal with this,’ he thinks bitterly. ‘If I wasn’t here, this wouldn’t be either.’ But unfortunately, he’s not really given that option as more and more voices register. It is Fundy beside him, Tubbo on his other side. Phil and Techno are across from them and Techno is silent but Phil looks angry, he looks fuming. If he didn’t know any better, he would think Techno is unphased. Luckily (or unluckily, depends) he knows better. Techno is downright pissed but Tommy’s still not sure what landed him here. Ranboo’s nowhere in sight and Tommy supposes he should be angry. He’s not. He’s not much of anything. He’s just tired.
“-not welcome here!” Ah. Words. Tommy lets his gaze fall to where Tubbo is. He’s a step ahead of him and so is Fundy, forming a shield in front of him. It was almost like when they were little, considering Tommy was always the first to suggest trouble and the first to shrink away from it too. If no one else got him, at least his brothers do.
“Thats a bit harsh, isn’t it Tubbo? He’s changed! He’s trying!”
“That bullshit might work on Ranboo but it sure as fuck won’t work on me and it won’t work on Tommy,” Fundy snarls at his grandad, who barely turns his head to acknowledge him. Phil always was petty, Tommy thought. Or at least, he thinks he is, from what little experience he’s had with the man thats supposed to be his grandfather. He wonders what they’re arguing about but he doesn’t have to wonder for long.
“He’s not… he’s not trying anything with Ranboo, I- No, we wouldn’t let him.”
“Ah yeah, protect the neighbour kid but not your own flesh and blood, that makes sense,” Fundy snarls.
“You,” Phil said, levelling a glare at Fundy, “betrayed me and tried to have me killed.”
“He blew up my home! Twice! And you did too!” Fundy snaps back. “Get off your high horse, we all make mistakes! Thats the fucking point! If you can’t see that you’re an idiot.”
“Or just a bitch,” Tubbo mutters. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he is not welcome here. Period.”
“And who gets to decide that? You some kind of president?”
“Shut the fuck up techno about your government bullshit, how’d you big bad buddy Dream? The biggest tyrant on the server? Yeah, tyranny doesn’t matter when that gets you what you want, huh?”
“Oh please, stop acting like I was unjustified in my actions with Dream,” Techno retorted.
“When you stop acting like you’re the only victim on the server,” Tubbo responded.
“You used me!”
“You killed me!”
“Shut up!” Tommy shouts. “Not you, specifically, Tubso, just- all of you- Shut up!”
“He can speak,” techno mutters and Tubbo sends him a glare.
“Who the fuck isn’t allowed here?” Tommy asks.
“Wilbur.” Phil answers. “He’s been looking for you, wanted to talk.”
“He can talk to Ranboo,” Tommy resorts. “I have nothing to say to him.”
“Tommy,” Phil says with a sigh. “I know things didn’t end well between you two-”
“Wow, how’d you figure that out?” Tommy interrupted. “I don’t care how things ended. I just want to move on, get over it, but it all in a box and move on.”
“Mate, you’ve had months to do that, but he-
“I didn’t get ‘months to do that’, I got days, Phil. About a month at best to mourn Wilbur and L’Manburg and sort out whatever the fuck Pogtopia was before I was shipped off to another exile.” Tubbo freezes up next to him but Tommy rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. His shoulders slowly began to loosen. “At in exile, all I could think about was how miserable I was. And then I got what, a month? A month in Techno’s base where all my triggers were treated like awkward silences that could be fixed with a new conversation starter.”
“Now hold on, I helped!” Techno butts in. “I distracted you, I protected you from Dream.”
“Techno, did it ever occur to you that your coping mechanisms might differ from mine?” Tommy says. “That you like to be distracted but I might cope better being able to speak my mind? To talk about it? You wouldn’t know, because you never asked. And hey, I didn’t want you to. Because my very limited interactions with you were either you ignoring me and enabling Wilbur in Pogtopia or you telling me to die after watching my brotherly borderline father figure die.” Tomy takes a breath, clenching and unclenching his fist, counting his own from ten backwards, anything to stop the fog because he was sick of shouting and if he didn’t say all this now, it would continue. Like a fucked up circle. “And I could stand here and scream but I don’t want to. I don’t have the fucking energy to, so I’ll say this. If Wilbur has changed, truly changed, I imagine he would’ve come here himself and refused to leave till one of us would talk to him. Or maybe even, I don’t know, try and reconnect with his son.”
“If he wants to talk to his supposed sons, he would come to us,” Fundy said. “Wilbur Soot is a terrible fucking father but he is rarely a coward.” Fundy takes a step forward. “And don’t fucking tell us how to grieve. You’re not the only one who lost a family member. You may have lost a son but we-” Fundy gestures to the three of them, “we lost a dad! The closest and furthest thing from a fucking dad that we ever got. So don’t tell us how to mourn or how to cope. We’re dealing with everything that man put us through, including fucking dying, so don’t tell us when we have to see him. Or even if we have to see him.”
“You weren’t here. You don’t get to decide how long it takes us to cope or how we do it,” Tubbo finishes and Tommy almost laughs at this fucked up relay team they’ve got going. He supposes they were always in tune. They lost it for a will but I suppose it never truly went away. “I think it’s time you two leave.”
“At least think about it,” is all Phil says and Tommy wants to tear his hair out. “Thirteen years is a long time to change.”
“Less than a year is not a lot of time for us to change, though, is it?” Fundy snaps back. Phil puts his hands up and turns to leave, Techno trialing after him but not before glaring at the three of them. WHne they’re out of sight, the tension melts.”
“We should just nuke their fucking base,” Tubbo mutters.
“N--nuke?”
“Apparent Tubbo inherited Wilbur’s explosions fetish,” Tommy jokes.
“Not a fetish,” Tubbo corrects. “And hey, like fucked up father, like fucked up son.”
“At least your connected to him his adoption, I’m all biology,” Fundy says. “Supposes it runs in the Craft Family, blowing up stuff.”
“Tyranny runs in mine,” Tubbo jokes.
“Death in mind,” Tommy jokes and the two flinch. “Hey, I’m not wrong.”
“Shut up, Tommy,” They says in unison.
“Well doesn’t that bring back memories, Tommy mutters, light heartedly glaring at the two. They scoff, rolling their eyes and Fundy shoves his shoulder.
“Come, lets go somewhere warm,” Tubbo says. “Ranboo will come out of hiding in the next hour or so, so you two are welcome to stay for dinner.”
“As long as your not cooking,” Fundy mutters. “Charcol isn’t in my diet.”
“Okay, furry boy, you go cook then.”
“Fine then, considering Tommy lives on raw vegetables and you can’t cook. Where’s boob boy when you need him?”
“Don’t you dare start listening to Tommy about that nickname,” Tubbo says but there’s no heart behind it. “He hates that nickname.”
“All the more reason,” Tommy jokes. “Come on, I’m fucking starving.”