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It was late morning before anyone was able to find Ghostbur, and of course, it was going to be Tommy.
When Ghostbur woke up that morning, he fully expected to be on the cold concrete floor of his train station limbo. Instead, he woke up to sun and birds and warm soft bedding. He hadn’t woken up comfortably in a long time (the day before where he had woken up on the ground didn't count, in his opinion. While being more comfortable than what he was used to, it wasn’t a bed).
It was a bit much, and so Ghostbur had climbed up to the roof. The fresh air was good for him. Everything felt good to him, it felt as though he could finally have a moment of peace. To process everything that happened. It was all so fast yesterday. And while it was nice being able to collect his thoughts, he sort of wished he could talk it out with someone.
He wished he was back home. It was a selfish wish, but one that nagged at him nonetheless. Everyone was lovely here, but Ghostbur wished he could have done more to help them. He missed his blue that could take his pain away. He missed Friend, who he could always know that they would love him unconditionally, for him and not who he was. He missed-
Tommy.
“Big man! You’re up here! Everyone’s looking for you, but I know that the roof is an amazing hiding spot so when Wilbur was all ‘Casper’s gone missing, this is terrible!’ I was like ‘I bet he’s just hiding, and I know exactly where!’ Because it’s really easy to get on the roof from that bedroom window.”
Ghostbur turned to see Tommy climbing up onto the roof and making his way over to Ghostbur.
“It is easy, it is,” Ghostbur smiled. It was comforting to hear Tommys rambling, even if it wasn’t quite the same. “I didn’t realize Wilbur was so desperate to see me, haha! We spent all night talking, can’t I get a break?”
Tommy laughed and it sounded like bells and good friends and joy. It had been a long time since he heard Tommy laugh, even before he had died. He then sat down close to Ghostbur and it felt like warmth and home and something like grief in his chest.
“Well I’m sorry for disturbing your alone time,” Tommy said playfully.
“Oh you couldn’t disturb me,” Ghostbur was quick to reply, “I always have time for my little brother!” He knocked their shoulders together and smiled, but Tommy stiffened as he engaged the touch. His russet and orange-colored wings tensed up at the display. Ghostbur noticed that they strangely had black tips.
“Right…that,” Tommy carefully spoke.
At those words, Ghostbur was viscerally thrust back into reality. This Tommy wasn’t his Tommy. He was happier, and he had a family, a family that Ghostbur was intruding onto. Or, should he say, Casper was intruding on.
Was there a difference between himself and Casper? He didn’t want there to be.
Tommy was just sitting there, twiddling his thumbs. He had that face that Ghostbur knew meant he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if he could.
“What's the matter, Tommy?” Ghostbur said, turning to get a better look at Tommy.
“This is weird, you know that right?” Tommy turns to look at him. “I mean, one day you find out that apparently, you had a long-lost brother that nearly died when you were a baby that your other brother just… never told you about?”
“Yeah, I can see how that would be weird… “ Ghostbur started, “It’s honestly pretty amazing for me, now I can finally talk to you!”
Tommy looked away and took a deep breath in before speaking. “What do you remember about Mom and Dad?”
Oh no. Ghostbur hadn’t thought that he would have to make up his own story. Wilbur was supposed to help with that. Should he just make something up? Or say he doesn’t remember as to not interfere with anything Wilbur had already told Tommy.
Or maybe, he can tell his own truth.
“I don’t remember much about them, I remember Dad more. I remember when I played ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ on the piano for him! I always liked playing the piano.”
“Do you not like it now?” Tommy asked.
“I still like it, I just haven’t had the chance to play since…” Ghostbur trailed off, not quite knowing what to say to fill it in, hoping Tommy would get it. And he did. And it was the truth.
“I still miss them, sometimes,” Tommy confessed, “But I have Phil, and he’s really my Dad anyway. And I have everyone else too, they are good. I’m sure you’ll like them.”
Ghostbur almost said, ‘I know’ but was able to catch it and instead just said, “I can’t wait to get to know them better!”
Lying was hard, coming up with something to suffice as a backstory and being able to tell stories about it is hard. Were what he told full lies, though? He knew Tommy and Phil and everyone else a little bit, but who knows how they might be changed here?
“Well, c’mon then! Let’s go downstairs, Wilbur is worried sick about you,” Tommy said as he stood up and offered his hand to help Ghostbur up.
Well, there was only one way to find out what had changed.
Ghostbur took his hand, “Better get down there then, huh?”
***
When he arrived downstairs, there was no small amount of fanfare. Wilbur looked like he was about to cry, and Tubbo was trying his best to help. Ghostbur guesses some things never change since it seems Tubbo was about as good at handling emotions this time around as the last. He didn’t seem to be much help in getting Wilbur to calm down.
But when they saw both him and Tommy, Wilbur seemed to calm down.
Of course, he blew off his worry for Casper quickly, saying how he didn’t care at all. Tommy quickly whisked him away after that, to show him something or another, leaving just Ghostbur and Tubbo in the Pube together. Ghostbur obviously knew Tubbo, so it wasn’t awkward for him. But after a good minute, after Tommy and Wilbur had left and Tubbo still wasn’t saying anything, Ghostbur was starting to think maybe Tubbo finds it awkward, it would make sense. Being left alone with someone you don’t know and expecting to get along is awkward, Ghostbur figured.
Somehow, Tubbo finally got the motivation to speak, “Hey, uhh, I’m working on a new project, and I don’t know what you know about machinery, but considering Wilbur and Tommy kinda just left us here it would be kinda rude to leave you here alone especially since you don’t know your way around the sanctuary that well-”
“It’s alright Tubbo!” Ghostbur laughed, interrupting Tubbo’s rambling. “Would you like me to take a look at your project?”
“Yes, please!”
And so Tubbo met Ghostbur below the Pube (since Tubbo could fly down, but Ghostbur had to take the ladder). Tubbo then led the way to his base that he showed Ghostbur yesterday. Down the hole, they went, and Tubbo opened a hole in the wall for Ghostbur to see a machine with so many moving parts and so much redstone that it would make Sam impressed.
And as Tubbo explained the whole thing Ghostbur did his best to understand, he really did! He knows that Tubbo loves talking about whatever current project he’s working on but he rarely has anyone to talk about it with. So even if most of it goes in one ear and out the other, Ghostbur does his best.
Tubbo’s wings and antenna are very distracting though. When he gets really excited about something he will start hovering and his antenna will perk up. Every time Ghostbur asks a question about it the antenna will reach forward as if trying to hear Ghostbur better. He finds that funny.
So as much as Tubbo is physically different, Ghostbur feels as though his personality hasn’t changed one bit. It’s comforting.
And now Tubbo is talking about something to do with hydraulics and Ghostbur isn’t sure how that would work since redstone doesn’t mix with water but Tubbo is asking for his opinion.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
“I was just asking which farm should I move? The sugarcane farm or the flower farm? I accidentally built them too close to each other,” said Tubbo.
Doing this with Tubbo reminded Ghostbur of some of his earliest memories, which were of building up New L’manburg. Back when he was still trying to figure himself out and everyone else was trying to figure him out too. Ghostbur used to try to give the best advice he could to his adoptive brother. He tried to help him fill shoes that were too big for any of them to fill, and Ghostbur likes to think he did the best he could, but in the end it didn’t matter.
Now without any shoes left to fill, it was nice just to take this down and talk. Ghostbur tried to give advice to Tubbo like he was used to, but found it difficult in the new circumstance. He didn’t have much advice to give, and so Ghostbur tried to navigate the new dynamic he found himself in. All done with a smile on his face.
“Oh! Well…” Ghostbur took a peek into the wall to look at the two machines. Tubbo was right, they were fairly close to each other. If he didn’t know they were separate farms, he might not have been able to guess that they were. The sugarcane farm looked like it took up less area overall, so Ghostbur figured it might be easier to move.
“The sugarcane farm! That looks like it will be easier to move than the flower farm,” Ghostbur decided.
“You're probably right. And more people would probably want the sugarcane, while only I need the flowers,” Tubbo replied.
“Oh, can I use the sugarcane farm? I love to make books and journals and write in them and collect them!” Ghostbur eagerly asked.
“Of course man! That's why I’m moving after all. Community use and all that. Just don’t break it haha.” Tubbo laughed. “You like to collect books?”
“Yeah, I did…” Ghostubr thought about his old house. It held all the important documents of his home, all the history. Now they were all gone.
Ignoring Ghostbur’s wistfulness, Tubbo continued, “Wilbur likes to collect stuff too, maybe you should ask him for some stuff like that!”
“Maybe I should.”
“Now c’mon! This machine isn’t going to move itself!”
Ghostbur and Tubbo spent the afternoon tearing down the sugarcane farm. It was really nice to get to spend time with Tubbo again. The last time that Ghostbur spent one-on-one time with Tubbo was back during his presidency. It's funny to think it’s been so long, but really, hasn’t everything been so long?
He placed all the materials in a chest above the hole where Tubbo’s base was for him to use when he rebuilt the farm later. And when their work was done and the sun was much lower in the sky, Ghostbur was tired and hungry, so he said his goodbyes to Tubbo and left.
***
Thankfully, there was some leftover bread in the seed chest near the wheat farm, so Ghostbur’s stomach was saved.
That's where Phil found him, sitting on top of the seed chest at the wheat farm, eating slightly stale bread.
“I wouldn’t eat too much, we’re probably going to have dinner soon. I think Scott is cooking tonight,” Phil smiled.
“I haven't eaten all day, sorry, I was hungry,” Ghostbur said with a mouthful of bread. Phil, being the awful man he is, laughed at Ghostbur trying to talk around the food.
“That does remind me, how long do you plan on staying?” Phil asked.
“Oh…” Ghostbur swallowed, “Do I have to go?” He asked quietly.
“No, no of course not,” Phil let out a relieved sigh, “You can stay as long as you want.” Phil had that wonderfully fond look on his face that Ghostbur only ever saw in stolen memories.
“Oh that's wonderful, thank you!” Ghostbur beamed. He really didn’t want to have to go.
Phil sat down next to the chest, his dark wings fanning out to either side of him. It was a serene image, almost. The swaying wheat and the two people sitting. Ghostbur could feel at peace here. He wonders if Phil felt the same.
“I only bring that up because we rotate who cooks dinner around here. Anyone who is able to cook is in a rotation of people who cook dinner once a week for the community. You don't have to cook, or even come to dinner, but…” Phil trailed off, “I don’t remember where I was going with this, I guess I just thought you should know.”
“That sounds really nice,” Ghostbur smiled. “I don’t really know how to cook, but I'd love to attend the dinner.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Phil says and they relapse into silence once again.
Ghostbur continued to eat his bread, oblivious to the tense air that had Phil in its grip. It wasn’t bad bread, it wasn’t too stale. It wasn’t Niki’s fresh bakery bread, but Ghostbur has had worse. Besides, Ghostbur was starving. Who cares if dinner is later? With how hungry he feels now, he thinks he’ll still be hungry for dinner.
Phil let out a heavy sigh, and Ghostbur turned to see a worried expression on his face. He looked troubled, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what to say.
Ghostbur tried to prompt him, “Is there anything else you wanted to say?”
“Come sit next to me,” Phil said instead and patted the dirt beside him.
“And trample the crops like you? Ok!” Ghostbur said with a laugh. Ghostbur nearly tripped getting up, expecting himself to float. He caught himself, and with a sheepish grin because of the almost-fall, went to sit next to Phil.
Phil was something of an enigma to Ghostbur, in terms of his opinion on him. Because Phil was his dad, and at the same time, he wasn’t. Phil raised him and Phil laughed with him and Phil did all he asked of him, even when that came to the extreme of killing Alivebur. And yet Phil sometimes ignored him, acting like he wasn’t there. Phil would treat him like he was Alivebur in a way that made him despise his counterpart. Phil killed-
Well, Ghostbur would rather not think of all the bad things Phil did.
But this wasn’t his Phil. And opposite to Tommy, where he wished his own Tommy was here (Tommy deserved to be in a place as wonderful as this, with all his friends and family alive and safe and getting along), Ghostbur is glad this is not his Phil. This is a blank slate. Here he is a real person and he is alive and his family already loves him for who he is.
Phil took a deep breath, and finally spoke, “You know I adopted Will and Tommy when they were very little.”
“Yeah… I think Wilbur mentioned that.”
“They are my sons, and you are their brother, so you are family as well.” Phil smiles and looks at him, “That is if you want to be, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
And just like that Ghostbur was crying. He had wanted and waited for so long for Phil to say those words.
“I would love that,” Ghostbur replied, and launched himself at Phil for a hug.
And as the wheat swayed in the breeze, the air returned to a sense of calm once more. There was a windchime that could be distantly heard. The sky was starting to gain its orangey hue as the sun just started to set. Ghostbur had been too caught up in visiting people he didn’t get to see the sunset yesterday. Seeing it now, well, Ghostbur felt at peace. At home, in his fathers arms.
***
Phil was right, Scott was making dinner. Due to the fact that Tommy was a vegetarian, either the whole meal had to be made vegetarian, or a vegetarian version of the meal had to be made. Along with the fact that Niki needed her food to be water-proof, Ranboo was a picky eater, Tubbo was only able to eat flowers, along with many more and any allergies other one may have, cooking dinner for the Pube was an… affair to say the least.
Nearly half of the community needed their own custom meal. That's why formal community dinners happened only once a week. And while many went and got their own custom meal, Ghostbur, being human and alive now, just took from the main dish. Which happened to be a fettuccine alfredo pasta.
Like Ghostbur predicted, he was still very much hungry for the delicious looking pasta in front of him. Ghostbur spent most of the meal eating and listening to the conversation around him. He got up to get seconds at some point, but mostly he just enjoyed the company. They would ask him questions directly and include him in conversation easily.
It was nice, Ghostbur finally felt like he belonged somewhere.
Dinner ended too soon, even though the conversation had stretched it to nearly an hour and a half. As everyone was leaving, Ghostbur was planning on hanging back. He wanted to let everyone else leave before he went up to his room for the night. Before everyone had left, however, Wilbur came and approached Ghostbur.
“Ayup Casper,” He greeted.
“Wilbur! Good to see you again,” Ghostbur said cheerfully.
“Good to see you too, sorry I was out all day, I hope you got settled in ok?” Wilbur posed, like it was a question.
“Yeah, I think I did”
“Well that's great to hear!” Ghostbur just noticed that Wilbur was holding something behind his back. He looked around to see if anyone was directly watching them or listening in. No one seemed to be acting nosy, so Wilbur continued.
“I have a gift for you,” Wilbur said.
He held out a leatherbound book for Ghostbur to take. Ghostbur took the book. It was obviously made with care, stained a beautiful dark brown, and had a leather cord wrapped around it to hold it shut. Ghostbur carefully opened the book to see blank pages.
“I remember you talking about memory problems and Tommy mentioned you liked to journal and liked books, and well I had this extra one lying around, so here.”
It was such a heartfelt gesture, something that showed that Wilbur cared, that he was OK with Ghostbur staying here.
“Thank you Wilbur… This means a lot to me,” Ghostbur said, clutching the journal to his chest.
“Of course, and if you ever run out of pages, come see me! Anyway, goodnight!” WIlbur said quickly and walked away. And Ghostbur felt warm inside.
And Ghostbur thought, ‘This is good.’