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Tommy didn’t know how long he sat in that trench, maybe it was forever. He made himself home in the crude divots of Pogtopia by his ‘brothers’ rotting potato patch with his skin being clawed at by carnivorous bugs. Conditions fit for a corpse. He felt comforted in an icky way, not sure if it was the sickeningly familiar claustrophobia that emanated from his past home, a poorly crafted hole in which he was forced to make his, or the bugs and beetles that ate at his flesh like how spiders and ants and worms would follow at his heels in the early days on this wretched server.
They don’t do that anymore, but these new insects at least get use of his body, no, it's not his body. Since he killed him his body has not been Tommy’s. Tommy died in that prison, this is a fake, this is a mimic of who he used to be. This body is a polyester copy strewn together with care, but no expertise, like a child trying to mend their doll.
The plants don’t grow around him either, he tried desperately to save the withering flowers around his base, pleading for them to grow as he sang hymns and carols through cracked vocal chords for hours before frustratingly stomping on the plants with glassy eyes and balled fists, the grass around him previously a lush green with tall grass and cat-tails now a field of dried beige reeds that break at the touch despite his efforts to care for them.
Tommy lets out a frustrated sigh pushing a strand of matted white hair out of his eyes and bringing his knees closer to his chest, muscles straining with the effort. He felt weak and useless, like with a small pull he would fall apart at the seams, so he buried himself in the dirt and bugs to pretend the earth was swallowing him whole, he felt peaceful, shutting his eyes as the dirt crumbled to crown his figure and he sat in a small hole covered with residue of his old life and vines poking out of cracks in the ground to erode the dirt and fall around him, much like a grave, a shallow one though, 3 feet at best. This was how it was meant to be, this is where he belongs.
“Tommy?” a familiar voice called out in the distance in a very badly hidden frantic tone. Tommy’s eyes flutter open, the dirt caking his eyelashes now falling down his cheeks and torso and he halfheartedly turns to the voice, the vines retreat into the ground and he moves to stand, flicking the bugs off his tattered skin, bloody and ragged. His gaze meets the ram hybrid turning the corner whose lips tighten in surprise.
“Tommy, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you for days” he seemed more genuinely concerned than accusatory, blue eyes flickering towards Tommy’s raw and reddened skin with an uneasy gaze which was concealed quickly with relief of finding his friend. “Sorry…” he muttered quietly with furrowed brows, he didn’t realise it had been that long. Tubbo’s shoulders relaxed and he walked over, sitting down with his legs crossed next to Tommy by the wall
. Tommy sits back down into the hole, picking at his skin uncomfortably while Tubbo fidgeted with his nails absentmindedly, “out of all places I would assume last you’d end up here” Tubbo murmured in a slightly curious tone. Tommy hummed in response “I’m full of surprises Tubs, you’d be shocked”. Tubbo snorted, side-eyeing the blonde with a smirk on his face “Really? Like what.” He deadpanned. Tommy looked up to the bridge as if pondering an answer, “Well… One time I brought home a rabbit from the woods” he said with a content grin,
“Wil loved the thing, we begged Phil to keep it, and he eventually said yes, but on the first night the little guy snuck into Technos room and chewed up all of his books, pissed on his favourite armour set for good measure as well. Phil, of course, liked Techno the best and set it free. Wil and I cried for days, he was always fond of rabbits looking back actually.” Tommy added with a reminiscent smile.
Tubbo interrupted with a playful elbow jab, “Rabbits are territorial dumbass” he snickered, “They’re gonna pee on your shit if you don’t train them carefully, hard to imagine our fearless right-hand man and general crying over a bunny to be honest”
Tommy rubbed his shoulder with a fake hurt expression, “Yeah, well I was seven, didn’t exactly have expertise in raising rabbits unlike you, Mister animal whiz” he joked, Tubbo chuckled with a grin before the conversation dipped into a natural silence.
“What are you even doing here by the way? Ya gotta warn me before you disappear bossman” he asked lightheartedly, smile dipping as he saw Tommy’s expression.
“Toms?” he prodded quietly, trying to catch a glimpse of Tommy’s face, now hidden by his crossed arms. Tommy sighed, squishing his face against a stinging forearm, trying to ignore the burning sensation that came with the contact.
Tubbo looked at his friend sadly, unable to read his expression, it hurt that he barely knew his best friend anymore, he mourned the bright eyed boy that existed a million years ago, he missed the life that followed the golden-haired sixteen year old at his every step and flourished under his tender care.
Tubbo wasn’t dumb, he noticed how animals and plants avoided his friend like the plague, and felt that hurt, he felt the pain emulate from the burnt out star that is his best friend. Maybe it was unfair to call him that,Tommy is strong, he always has been, but Tubbo looks at the small figure of the blonde and feels like he's witnessing the extinguishing of fireplace embers that burned so, so brightly before.
Tubbo sighed and leaned against Tommy, careful not to aggravate the injuries he saw earlier, instead choosing to lay his head on the other’s shoulder. Tommy leaned his head to sit on top of Tubbo’s, the pit allowing Tommy to crane his neck in a way that laid comfortably on his bushy brown hair.
“You didn’t deserve any of this y'know '' Tubbo whispered, staring off at the shitty foundation of Pogtopia’s walls.
“What?” Tommy asked, scrunching up his face almost incredulously.
“You didn’t deserve this. The bad shit I mean, you weren’t supposed to get caught in all of this, we were meant to be fucking around in the field by your shack, rambling about nothing until we were called home ” He crossed his arms, frustrated, before relaxing back into Tommy’s shoulder.
Tommy stared at his shoes with furrowed brows, pausing for a moment, “That’s not- everything happens for a reason right? I mean there's plenty of times where horrid things happened because of me… like in this very trench me and Q helped stop Wil from blowing everything up, we could have done it again if I tried harder. I got exiled for the reckless shit Ranboob and I did, I lost the duel with Dream because I wasn’t strong enough… That’s-” Tommy got cut off suddenly by Tubbo wrapping him in a hug, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt like it's the last thing he’ll ever touch.
“Tommy, we’re kids” Tubbo whispered, digging his chin deeper into his shoulder blade as he held on tighter, and a dam broke in Tommy’s brain. He wrapped his arms around Tubbo tightly, tears welling up quickly in his eyes.
“F-fuck man” he stuttered, shutting his eyes to staunch his tears hopelessly and hugging them closer, not daring to let go. Maybe if they sat there forever nobody would find them, and they could pretend they were back in their old homes, telling each other untellable secrets under the endless night sky and making up plans for a secret base in the ground
. Maybe they could pretend that they were entering the server for the first time, pissing off the adults and stealing wheat and eggs for Niki’s pastries, trying to make Wilbur proud of them, laughing so hard that they’d start crying as firelight lit up the intricacies of their face as the two told jokes to the rest of L’manburg.
The two sit in silent reminiscence of those days, as they hold fast to each other promising internally that they will always be there for each other, even as the earth shook and the ground split they would have the other.