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Tommy walked out of Pandora’s Vault looking haunted, as though he had seen a ghost𑁋 ironic, considering he had come into the prison with a ghost and exited without him by his side. Still, he seemed horrified, as if every tragedy that had happened to him was playing on repeat behind his eyes.
Tubbo and Ranboo both stared at him with something akin to . . . horror? Disgust? Tommy wasn’t quite sure, but whatever they were feeling towards him in that moment certainly wasn’t positive. He didn’t blame them, of course, for he too was in shock, horrified, at what had just gone down inside the walls of the Vault. It played over and over in his mind, the vision of Ghostbur dying by Dream’s hands, the feeling of Sam holding him back from saving the ghost of his lover.
Tommy would never forgive Sam, Tommy would never forgive himself.
He was drawn away from his thoughts, pulled out of his flashbacks, by a ping on his communicator. He was quick to pull it out, watching in the corner of his eye as Ranboo and Tubbo did the same.
[WilburSoot joined the game]
Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. There was no need to dwell on anything or fear the prison behind him, because Wilbur was back; his lover had returned from the dead. Tommy pocketed his communicator and began to run as fast as he could, headed towards the spot he dreaded, the spot where Wilbur perished all those months ago.
(Tommy had spent time in limbo, he knew how time worked there. He knew it had been years for Wilbur. While he was stuck mourning for a year, Wilbur had been without his dearest for over a decade, and Tommy could not even imagine going without Wilbur for so long.)
“Wait!” Tubbo called, and Tommy could hear two pairs of footsteps racing after him. “Tommy, stop!”
Tommy didn’t listen, too focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He paid no mind as his friends followed after him, uncaring if they were to witness whatever happened when he and Wilbur met face to face again. No, all he cared about was seeing his lover once more, being in his arms and being warm when they had both been so cold in limbo.
After what felt like hours, he found himself approaching the crater that was once his country. He bounded over the glass that covered it, frantically searching for where the button room once stood. Finally, he spotted it and sprinted over, falling to his knees on the glass as he saw exactly who he was looking for.
“Wilbur,” he breathed out, too quiet for the man to hear.
Wilbur, who had been making his way up the crater by scaling the side, paused as he saw Tommy, eyes widening before a soft smile took over his face. Reaching up, he placed a hand to the glass, and Tommy did the same right over it. It was a quiet moment between the two, just gazing into each other’s eyes and pressing their hands together through the glass barrier. They both pulled away, however, as racing footsteps approached from behind Tommy.
“I’m going to get you out of there,” Tommy told Wilbur, raising his voice so the brunet could hear him. He pulled out a shovel and started to walk to the edge of the crater, where the glass met the dirt. He was stopped, however, by a hand on his shoulder. Irritated by the interruption, Tommy turned around, giving a deadpan glare to the two behind him.
“Tommy, what the actual fuck?” Tubbo questioned, glancing at Wilbur trapped under the glass before turning back to the blond.
“What?” Tommy snapped, not even knowing what Tubbo was trying to ask.
“Ghostbur just fucking died and you’re totally unaffected!” Tubbo shouted, Ranboo nodding along in agreement. “And now you’re suddenly all determined to get Wilbur out! Why the fuck are you helping Wilbur?!”
“He’s not the same person he was when he died!” Tommy argued. “I would know; I was in limbo with him!”
“He blew up L’manburg!” Tubbo replied, anger seeping into his tone. “He-”
Tommy cut him off. “He was unwell at the time! He spent a lot of time in limbo, Tubs. He’s not who he was in Pogtopia!”
“You-”
“I don’t have time to argue with you.” Tommy shrugged off Tubbo’s hand on his shoulder and turned around, marching over to the dirt on the edge of the crater. Tubbo and Ranboo only stood and stared as Tommy began to shovel, digging a makeshift staircase out of dirt leading down to where Wilbur was balancing precariously on a block on the side of the crater. Once reaching him, Tommy took Wilbur by the hand and led him up to the open air.
It had been a year since Wilbur had been anywhere but limbo, technically thirteen years if you were counting how time moved there, and yet Tubbo noticed that Wilbur did not relish how the sunlight hit his skin nor how the fresh air felt in his lungs nor how the bugs skittered around him nor how the bubbling of running rivers sounded out from not too far away. No, his entire attention was on the boy in front of him, eyes glued to Tommy.
“My love . . .” Wilbur breathed out, and Ranboo felt confusion flow through him.
Ranboo had always been told that Tommy and Wilbur were the closest friends around, partners in crime, practically brothers. People had regaled stories to him of how the two would fight side-by-side, always having each other’s backs, and how they would take care of each other in the quieter moments, making sure the other was well rested and healthy. From what he had been told, he assumed Tommy and Wilbur had a tight bond and were the closest of friends.
Those assumptions were shattered as Wilbur reached to cup Tommy’s cheeks and pulled him into a kiss, an action that had Tommy wrapping his arms around Wilbur’s waist. Ranboo glanced over to Tubbo only to find the boy just as surprised as him. It reassured Ranboo to know he wasn’t the only person to have misconceptions about the nature of Tommy and Wilbur’s relationship.
Tommy and Wilbur pulled away from the kiss after a few moments, and Wilbur wrapped his arms around Tommy’s shoulders, pulling the boy into his chest. He rested his head atop Tommy’s golden curls, closing his eyes and just allowing himself to feel the boy against him for a moment.
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy . . .” Wilbur chanted like it was a prayer and he was a sinner looking for salvation. “My sunrise, my dearest, how I’ve missed you.”
“Wil,” Tommy sobbed out, muffled against the brunet’s yellow sweater. Tubbo and Ranboo could see the fabric beginning to stain from the boy’s tears.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Wilbur soothed, “I’m here now, my dear. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
Tommy pulled back to look Wilbur in the eyes, tears still flowing down his cheeks. “You . . . you know what happened?”
“I have all of Ghostbur’s memories,” Wilbur confessed, voice somber and quiet, “even what he forgot. I know all about exile, my love; I know what he did to you.”
Tommy let out a broken sob and buried his face back into Wilbur’s chest, holding on even tighter to the brunet. Wilbur placed a gentle kiss atop Tommy’s head, keeping a comforting hold on his crying lover. He looked around and caught sight of Ranboo and Tubbo, the teens just staring at the couple. He narrowed his eyes at them, obviously skeptical of the two, before turning back to the boy in his arms.
“Let’s get back to your home, sunshine,” Wilbur urged gently. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages, and I’ve got some plans to make.”
Tommy nodded, pulling away from Wilbur’s chest, but grabbing onto his hand. The two interlaced their fingers, refusing to give up contact with one another. Wilbur shot one more displeased look at Ranboo and Tubbo before beginning to lead Tommy away from the crater.
And, as they disappeared into the distance towards Tommy’s home, neither Tubbo nor Ranboo followed.