Chapter Text
A raindrop.
Falling off a leaf.
A leaf of a bush. Of a Violet bush.
Right next to a hospital window.
Looking out that window, a small boy. Eyes blank.
Not a single thought was in his mind. Only pictures. Only events.
Only real events.
The battlefield. Empty. Only the fire and suffocating smoke could be seen. With only one person standing.
Him.
He killed them all. He killed them all . He’s a child . He killed them all-
A light step of a nurse's heel snapped him out of his thoughts. The boy looked to where the sound was coming from.
A nurse was standing next to his bed with a letter in her hands. It looked awfully soft, even though it was probably sketching paper.
There was a seal stamp on it with a symbol. Two hands make a sign of a pigeon with the characters C and H on the palm of one of the hands.
The nurse gave the boy time to say something, yet he didn’t say a word. He went back to looking through the window.
“You received a letter.” The nurse started. The boy barely paid attention, too wrapped up in memories he’d rather let go.
“It’s from an old friend of Major Soot.” The boy’s attention immediately got curious when the Major was mentioned. “I think you should read it.”
The boy looked outside for just a bit longer, praying, hoping, that he could just be sucked into that moment in his memory again. When he isn’t though, he finally gives in and takes the letter from the nurse.
His metal prosthetic hands interrupted the uncomfortable silence. The sound of moving metal bits and pieces was still something the boy had to get used to with these new arms he had. He couldn’t feel a thing, but he knew the nurse was trying her best not to shiver when metallic fingers brushed against her skin.
The boy carefully opened the letter:
Dear Tubbo,
How have you been? I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. I hope the new arms aren’t too hard to get used to.
I had promised Wilbur that if anything were to happen to him, I’d take you under my wing and protect you for as long as I’d have to. I know he meant much to you. I miss him too.
I have some old relatives of mine in the city that would love to take you in. And of course, I’ll be there every day. Just like he wanted.
There will be a carriage bringing you here soon. You should get ready. A new chapter of your life is just about to start.
Kind regards, Philza Minecraft
The boy, Tubbo, didn’t show any reaction. He didn’t want to. He didn’t think of himself as a human anyway. He was just a war weapon. Born and raised.
“Pretty exciting right? Someone’s picking you up today!” The nurse was giving a big smile to him. He didn’t even try to mimic it. The nurse’s face formed a slight hint of embarrassment. “Though I will miss you dearly. I’d appreciate it if you came to say hello sometimes.”
Tubbo looked down. How could he ever forget waking up in an empty hall full of beds and white dividers. The sunlight coming through the windows, making the place look just a little lonelier.
After a full beat, the nurse spoke again. “Are you able to write with your hands yet? Can I see your practice?”
Tubbo looked at the hospital-scented paper on his nightstand. He had tried to write. It was hard. He could barely even read his own writing.
He gave it to the nurse anyways, carefully taking the paper in his metallic hands and trying his best to hold a grip. He still wasn’t completely used to them.
The nurse took the paper and read it. She smiled.
“It’s definitely an improvement from last time.”
Last time he couldn’t even lift the pen without it slipping right through his hands or him breaking the end of it.
“Is he doing alright? The Major.” Tubbo spoke for the first time since… forever it felt like. His voice was hoarse from not using it.
The nurse's smile starts fading, her eyes down in thought before she speaks again. Her voice sounds more apologetic than before. “Sir… Tubbo…”
“They haven’t found his body. There’s a high chance he’s…”
The nurse cuts herself off before Tubbo could.
“No…”
“No, there's no way.” The boy looks down at his arms. The reason he has them... He can’t be…
“You- You said they haven’t found his body… he must be alive!” Tears are forming behind the boy's eyes. He keeps them there. He wasn’t told to cry. “Surely…”
The nurse puts her soft hand against his shoulder. The touch feels almost suffocating. Warm, soft hands meeting at the shoulder where Major used to touch him. He has to be alive, he has to…
——
The carriage was already waiting for him when Tubbo stepped outside. Now that he thinks about it, this is the first time he’s actually gone outside after the war.
The prosthetic arms took enough energy themselves and then tried to find the energy to walk in the garden afterward? No chance.
The carriage was small yet very fancy. It wasn’t the fanciest thing, but it could definitely get the attention of a few people passing by, asking where they got it from and what materials were used on it.
The carriage had a color palette of dark forest green and matte black. The green was all over it while the black-framed it all over. It was like the colors were in perfect harmony with each other. The dark and the darker, keeping each other in their arms of pure comfort and color.
The wheels were made of some sort of metal that was painted bronze. (Probably so the wheels stayed sturdier) There was a black button on every wheel's middle to keep it on. All the colors matched so perfectly with each other. Tubbo didn’t understand why he was to be brought to his new home with such… pizzazz .
A man stepped out of the carriage. Shoulder-length, blonde hair was tied to a low ponytail in the back. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky. He looked old yet young for his age (probably around 30 if Tubbo had to guess), and he wore a dark green button-up under a brown suit vest. His dress pants match the vest color. He had a very peculiar hat that slumped down at the sides instead of up. And how could you forget the green and white stripes?
He seemed approachable. Friendly, even. Though Tubbo didn’t quite care. He’ll still be used no matter how kind the owner. Just like with Major…
Tubbo himself didn’t have anything fancy to wear. He only wore an old white button-up with some leafy green Cossack trousers that the hospital gave him as a farewell gift. He still wore his boots from the war (though they were cleaned up from the blood and dirt).
His luggage, —which was really only a small leather case with nothing but paper, a fountain pen, a book, and a beautiful, eye-catching brooch. An emerald fitted into a golden frame. All given from Major.— was taken from his hands by the blonde man.
“Now, come on mate, it's not a short ride until we get to the city.” He sighs. “It’s better to leave as early as we can, okay?”
The man turns over to the nurse standing next to Tubbo. He gives a kiss on the nurse's hand as a greeting, then they exchange a few words to each other before the man turns back towards Tubbo, giving a warm smile, and nudging him to the carriage.
“Oh shit, I completely forgot to introduce myself!” The man gave a small giggle with a smile wide on his face. “I’m Philza Minecraft, but please mate, just call me Phil.”
They get to the carriage. Phil opens up the door and lets Tubbo get in first.
The inside looks as great as the outside. Though instead of green and black, there’s now red and brown. Crimson red cushions cover the seats, while the hand rests and floor is made out of a very pretty oak.
Tubbo sits down on one of the seats. It’s comfortable. It’s soft. Softer than he imagined. Phil sat on the other side.
And just like that, they were off. To the city.
—
You can tell almost immediately when they got to the city.
Loud noises of children playing in the plaza. Trams and cars buzzing about. The horizon was covered with houses and shops and statues.
Tubbo never felt odder.
Tubbo was so fixated on looking outside, he almost didn’t catch Philza’s watching him. How amateur of him.
“Do you like the city, mate?” He smiled. Tubbo didn’t change his emotionless expression.
“Where am I staying?”
Philza’s smile fades just a little before coming back on. Tubbo doesn’t quite understand why.
“I found this lovely old couple who always wanted a child. You’d fit right in.”
Tubbo’s eyes go down to his hands. How could he ever fit in with normal people? He’s a literal child war weapon. He’s killed without mercy. He can’t fit in anymore. Especially with these hands.
“I mean, do you want to go there right now? We can like, go to my office first. I have to get something from there anyways.”
There was a silence that felt heavier than what it actually was, before Tubbo answered.
“Let’s go to your office first.”
–
At the time they get to the office it’s already noon.
Philza gets out first, giving a hand out to Tubbo to get out. He’s not that short, but he takes it anyway.
“It might be a bit messy in my office, but I’m sure you won’t mind mate, right?”
Tubbo didn’t answer. Just looking at the big building in front of him.
It almost looked like a town hall. Except it was brown, not white. The windows were fancy medium, smooth rock framing it. The building itself was made from red bricks. Every window had emerald green curtains covering the sides of the window inside. There was a white section before the round blue roof made of some sort of metal. The huge wooden doors looked very fancy and heavy.
Philza goes to the doors first, nudging his head towards it to show Tubbo to follow. He does like it’s a command. They both stand next to the door for a little, before Philza starts opening the heavy-looking front door.
“And here’s the postal service where I work.”
The inside looked just as grand as the outside. The entire floor looked like a dancehall filled with bookshelves and reception desks. There were all sorts of books and desks scattered round and about the sides like it was a library. In the middle all the way in the back, were receptionist desks. A woman waved at them when they walked in.
“Good day Mr. Minecraft! Is there anything I could do to my lovely boss?” She gave a warm smile before changing her gaze to Tubbo. “And who might this young boy be? He almost looks like a doll.”
She notices his hands.
Her smile falls just a little.
She looks… worried.
Philza saves the situation by giving a warm smile back and putting a warm, soft hand on Tubbo’s shoulder.
“He’s the kid I was talking to you about. The one in the war? That’s him. You don’t have to do anything, thank you.”
The two start walking towards the stairs. “That was the receptionist. She’s a really nice lady. These people also receive letters that need to be sent to someone.”
They walk to the second floor. On the second floor were shelves full with letters and packages with all sorts of different colours of brown, white, and yellow.
There were people in uniforms of brown vests and white button-ups walking and sorting through the letters and packages. They were working.
“This is the writing department and there-” Phil points to a big wooden door at the end of the hallway. “-there’s my office.”
Tubbo looks around while Philza explains more about what the people here do. “This department, that’s what I call them here, writes letters at request of the clients, those are called auto-memory dolls, and the others sort specific letters in specific shelves.”
Tubbo looks to the door Phil was pointing at. Auto-memory dolls? They sound pretty. Maybe he could work there?
What is he thinking? He can’t possibly write letters with his ‘hands’.
They walk to the door across the hall. Phil’s door. He opens it with ease, even though it looks heavy as hell.
“And this is my office mate! Don’t mind it being a little messy.”
The office looks old, used, lived in. There's a huge emerald green rug on the floor. It looks soft, warm. A thick dark wood desk is positioned in the middle in the back. It has all sorts of things on it. Books, papers, figurines, and a lamp. Behind it is a comfortable desk chair made of blood red leather. It has little bumps in it. Very fancy looking, though it probably didn’t cost that much, if anything at all.
There’s a sitting chair on the left of it. It looks like it’s from the same collection as the desk chair. Same colour, same everything. By the left corner there was a sofa from the same collection. In front of it was a coffee table made from the same wood as the desk. On it was a royal blue tea set scattered around. It looked like people were drinking tea before they got here.
Two big bookshelves were framed on the back wall. Each by the other corner of the room. There were many books of different sizes and colours. A fireplace was built in the right wall. On top of it were four different framed artworks. One huge painting of a woman in all black with a huge black sun hat with black organza covering her eyes. Under that were three smaller rectangle shaped photos. They looked like family pictures.
There was a round table on the right side of the fireplace with books and papers neatly scattered around. A wooden chair was left a half metre further.
Phil goes further in the room, heading for the desk. Oh yeah, they came here to find something. Tubbo stood where he was. He wasn’t told to look around yet. He had to wait.
Phil glanced at Tubbo while sorting through papers. “You can look around if you want to mate, I don’t mind.”
A small yes sir comes out of Tubbo’s mouth before carefully walking towards the fireplace. He wanted to see the family pictures. He wanted to learn more about Phil.
The picture furthest to the left had a girl with long orange hair with a white streak wearing a long dress surrounded with white batiste cloth. Next to her was Phil, and next to Phil was another girl with orange hair. Her hair was curled at the end and she had a beautiful bow on top matching her white sailor dress.
The picture in the middle has a boy now where the girl on the left used to be. His hair is short, but it has the same white streak as the girl. He was wearing newspaper boy clothes and a hat. Tubbo guesses he’s working for Phil. The girl on the right is gone. They both look sadder than in the first picture.
In the last picture, the boy is gone too. In place of the boy, there’s Major now. Tubbo is close to asking about it, but Phil beat him to it.
“Me and Wilbur before he went on the boat to war. Where he got you.”
Got. Right. Major got him as a present from his brother. How could he forget that?
He lifted up the cloth Tubbo was wrapped in and gasped. Gasped . He didn’t want Tubbo at first. He said it was wrong. To train a kid to become a war weapon. But his brother insisted on him keeping Tubbo. That Tubbo would win the war for them.
Phil found the papers he was supposed to. “Hey, I think we can go now. You ready mate?”
Tubbo nodded.
They left for Tubbo’s new home.
His new start.
–
The house is huge. But not as huge as the postal office. The walls are covered in plants and moss. The blue door stands out with the otherwise brick colored house.
Phil rings the doorbell and stands next to Tubbo.
“This is a very old couple I’ve known for quite a while. I’m sure you’ll grow to like them.”
And just like that, the door opens.
Just like Phil said, an old couple greets them on the other side of the door.
“Good evening mr. Minecraft! How are you? Is this the child?” The woman asks.
“Hello mrs. Underscore, I am well thank you, and yes, this is the child. His name is Tubbo.”
Tubbo bows down a little to show his respect. He doesn’t say a word.
Mr. Underscore is the next one to speak. “What happened to your arms, boy?”
“I lost them during the war.”
The couple share a pitying look. Can people stop looking at him like that? It’s starting to annoy him. He’s not a kicked puppy, he’s a literal war weapon.
“Anyways… What about you go look at your new room with Mrs. Underscore?” Phil gives a comforting smile to Tubbo before the boy follows Mrs. Underscore upstairs.
The room is empty except for a desk by the window, and a very sad looking bed. It has normal white sheets tucked neatly to the sides of the bed. Some beige curtains drape on the sides of the window. The walls are all very worn and bland. Tubbo’s seen better, but at least it's a room.
Tubbo puts his almost empty suitcase next to the bed and looks around his new room again to see if there are any mouse holes he should look out for.
“It’s not a lot I know, but I’m sure you’ll have something to make it homey.” She gives a smile, though it’s not as comforting as Phil’s. “What if we go downstairs again? I’m sure my husband is making some tea.”
And so they walk downstairs where, in fact, Mr. Underscore is making earl grey.
Phil is sitting by the table. Tubbo goes to sit next to him.
A few minutes pass and suddenly they all have a cup of hot earl grey tea mixed with a little honey. The adults are talking about things like his age, name, and birthdays. They learn pretty quickly they know almost nothing, so they have to ask Tubbo about most of it.
They get to his last name. They turn to Tubbo yet again, but this time, even he doesn’t know.
“Oh that’s sad.” Mrs. Underscore frowns. There’s a pause, before she speaks again. “What if you take our last name? Since we're adopting you, it would only make sense.”
Wait. Adopting? Tubbo didn’t know about this. He thought he was just going to live here. He doesn’t want to get adopted! No, no, no!
–
Tubbo doesn’t quite remember what happened. All he remembers is screaming and running out of the house. Now he’s in a garden probably not too far away, he concluded since doesn’t feel tired of running.
He doesn’t want to be adopted. He’s not a kid goddamnit! When are people going to notice that?! He isn’t even a human anymore!
He just wants to see Major again.
Tubbo doesn’t know when Phil got there.
Tubbo doesn’t know when Phil took him in his arms.
Tubbo doesn’t know when he started crying.
Tubbo doesn’t know when he fell asleep.
–
Tubbo woke up in Phil’s office. He was laying on the sofa. Tubbo feels more tired than ever, even though he’s pretty sure he slept for at least three hours based on the sunset light shining through the windows.
“Ah, you’re awake. Did you sleep well mate?” Tubbo looks to Phil’s desk. He was reading some papers related to his work.
Tubbo sat up. He was wondering if he wanted to answer or ask his own question. After a pause, he decided. “Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t just a place to sleep?”
Phil looked at him with an embarrassed smile. “Oh no, I told them it was just a place for you to sleep at! They just misunderstood.”
Tubbo looked down at his feet hanging off the sofa. If he just stayed there for a bit longer and didn’t snap it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. God he’s awful at this being human thing.
“Hey mate, what about we get some food hmm? I’m pretty sure you’re a tad hungry.”
And with that they leave the office.
–
They arrive at a restaurant way too fancy for a normal dinner. Phil leads the way again and asks for their reserved table. Apparently this was dinner with one of Phil’s workers who’s getting a raise.
They get to the table and the worker is already there. It was a man with a brown shaved head. He wore tinted glasses, the right glass tinted red and the left one blue. His clothes were rather flashy. He wore a loose spring-green shirt with pale golden suspenders and a pair of military green tight leather pants. Under the shirt he’s wearing a black undershirt. He’s wearing long black boots with tall cross-shaped heels you’d see an adultery woman wear on a night out. A pair of black fingerless gloves were on his hands keeping them somewhat warm.
The man notices the two and waves them over.
“Hey mate!” Phil greets the man. “You’re looking very flashy for dining here.”
“Ayy! Phil! What can I say? I’m different from the others!” Tubbo goes to sit next to Phil. “Shall we order?”
Tubbo ended up ordering nothing and Phil had to fight tooth and nail for Tubbo to eat something since he insisted he wasn’t hungry or that he didn’t need it. He doesn’t quite understand why he is so nice to him.
After they all ate something, (some more than the others) Phil broke the news to the man who Tubbo learned his name, Jack.
“Jack by the way mate,” Jack looked at Phil with curious eyes. “You have a raise! You’re now a postman!”
The smile on Jack’s face was huge. He was about to scream out of pure joy. The man thanked him and they went on a moment about why he got the raise and so on. Then they remembered.
“No one’s gonna be sorting the non-urgent letters now…”
Most times Phil let only 1-2 people do that job since it wasn’t too much work to do. Most times if there were small children eager to work he’d make them do that. It’s just sorting out letters that aren’t seen as very important. The ones that don’t have a stamp on them for example, or a real address.
“I bet Tubbo can do it, right mate?” Tubbo looked as wide-eyed as a numb war weapon could but didn’t say anything. He was just surprised for the most part. He just got here!
Tubbo snapped out of it though, realising this could be a hidden demand, and so, he said yes.
Don’t get him wrong! He sort of wanted to do it anyway. As long as he had something else to think about than the war or Major he’d be okay with it.
And so, he started work the next day.
Tubbo had to sleep by the Underscore household since that was the only house with a spare bed. Mr and Mrs Underscore apologised though and they were all mostly on the right track.
The first night not being in the hospital was… odd to say the least.
Everything felt so much more real. Like he was kicked out of his home and had to now live somewhere else without anyone making him food or giving him a place to stay (which both were completely wrong of course. The Underscores had told him time and time again how delighted they were to have Tubbo live with them.).
The first thing that happened that morning when Tubbo got to the postal office was Jack showing him the smaller one’s work space. It was in a sideroom next to the main sorting room.
The whole room looked dusty and worn down. Dust was all over the top of the bookshelves full with letters and packages. There was an old desk hidden at the end of the room behind all the old shelves.
“Oh, That’s where you’re gonna be sorting all the letters at.” Jack said in a chill yet exhausted voice. He probably didn't get much sleep last night.
There were piles of letters and packages next to the desk Tubbo didn’t even notice at first. All waiting to be sorted out into the dusty bookshelves that were then going to be cleaned out every Friday, as he got to learn.
“So basically, what you do here is only read the address, if it even has one that is, and sort it in alphabetical order into that bookshelf right there.” Jack lowers himself to be on eye level to Tubbo before pointing to an empty bookshelf at the back. “Of course if there’s not many letters to go through, you can have a small skim through, but I won’t recommend.”
Tubbo didn’t say anything. He only made sure to remember and do exactly like he was told. Look for the address if there is any and sort it out in alphabetical order in that bookshelf right there . Easy.
Tubbo then got a workers outfit that was way too big for him, and he got to work.
–
Tubbo was almost done with all the letters for the day when he decided one read wouldn’t hurt anyone.
He opened the last letter he had and read what it said inside.
It was a very heartwarming little note with a wedding vow. Tubbo felt a small pain in his heart when he realised the one who was supposed to get this never did. It got quickly drowned away by another feeling though. Curiosity.
Curiosity for the small sentence “I love you” that is.
What does that mean?
Sure the words are there. It means someone loves someone. But what does that mean? Loving someone? What does love mean exactly?
Tubbo couldn’t let it go. He needed to understand what it meant to feel love. To know what love means. So he went to the first person he knew he could find. Jack.
He found Jack easily enough since he just came in to see how Tubbo was doing.
“Jack, I have a question.” Tubbo quickly put the letter back in the envelope to sort it out with the rest of the letters.
“Oh, Well then, go on then, what is it?” Jack was looking through the now full bookshelf to see if anything was wrong.
“What does it mean to love?”
Jack stopped what he was doing. He looked… sad? Pitiful.
“Well, it has a bunch of different meanings to it I guess… Like, for example, I could say I love this job, or I love Phil, as a friend of course! Or I-”
“But what does it mean?” Tubbo cut him off. He was about to cry. Why couldn’t he understand something so simple as love?
Jack looked at him with wide eyes. He then slowly started looking at his feet. “I think you should ask Phil that, not me. I mean, he’s old and shit and used to have a wife you know?”
Tubbo’s eyes lit up just barely. He thanked Jack and headed over to Phil’s office.
Tubbo didn’t even knock before opening the doors wide.
Phil was sitting on his desk, reading papers yet again, before his eyes fixed on Tubbo’s moving body coming towards the desk. “Hey mate, what’s going on-”
“What does love mean?” Tubbo didn’t like how desperate he sounded, but he couldn’t let this go. He needed to know. What did it mean?
“Whoa mate! Slow down! What do you mean?” Phil put his arms up like he was just found robbing a bank. Tubbo couldn’t look at his face, but he was certain the man had his comforting smile back on.
“I read one of the letters and it said “I love you”. I want to know what it means, sir.”
“Hey, no need for the ‘sir’s mate, Just call me Phil.” The comfort poured out of his voice like sweet melting honey. “And, love can mean many different things. In the context you had, it probably was meant romantically.”
No, no, no! That’s not what he meant! “Sir- Phil, I don’t mean it like that. I mean what does it mean? What does it feel like?”
“Well for many people it means different things, but the best way I could describe it is like the urge to always want to be there next to them and make them happy. It could feel like walking on clouds, or like singing in the rain.”
Now Tubbo really wanted to cry. “I don’t understand.” Why doesn’t he understand?
“I don’t understand what you mean. What does it mean?” His voice started to falter. Everything was too much.Too much light, too much noise, too much feeling, too much anger. Too much anger and frustration at himself for not understanding something as simple as love.
At least he thought it would be simple.
“Well mate, if you want to you can always talk to the auto memory dolls. They basically live off of ‘I love you’s since they have to write about them constantly.”
Auto memory doll?
That’s it!
“I want to be an auto memory doll!” Tubbo shouted out of nowhere. He wanted to be one. If he was one, he would surely learn what ‘I love you’ means at some point right?
“You want to what now?” Phil laughed, though he stopped when he saw Tubbo was being serious. “You want to be an auto memory doll? Can you even write letters or use typewriters mate?”
“No, but I will learn! I can learn it tonight! I’m a fast learner!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay as a sorter mate?”
“Please, I have to be an auto memory doll!” Tubbo cried out. He needed to. How otherwise would I learn what love means?
And just like that, the story of Tubbo Underscore, the beloved auto memory doll, begins.