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They had won. A bright smile sprung on Tommy’s face, even after fighting tooth and nail, his hair dirty and uniform crumpled. He waved at Wilbur, the older in a similar state. Tommy let out a yell, and his chest rose and fell quickly, but smiling all the same. Shring… Red ran down the boys chest, running over the silver metals’ curves. The hilt battered and torn, but connected to the curve of the blade.
Time stopped.
1..no 2..no no… 3 no, no, no
Panic flooded Wilbur, his pupils being blown wide and adrenaline flooded to his veins as he set off into a sprint across the land that lay between them. Dust flung itself from the ground as it was whipped up and around and it fell again as Tommys’ knees gave in, crumbling to the ground. A slash resounded from an axe nearby but Wilbur ran, begging himself to speed up. He had never been one to run. He was a poet. A writer. But he ran until he couldn’t and fell to the ground, pushing himself to sit up and cradle the boy: his brother in his arms. No.. not today. Not after everything. The blondes hair was soaked with sweat, and his usual lively blue eyes, now glassy and faint. Blood trickled down the long coat jacket, seeping into the fabric like water in soil, turning the jacket a deep brown.
Tommy’s chest heaved, his face flush. The dagger was a sickle shaped hook was sunk into his chest, the flesh torn apart in one clean cut with the precision of a surgeon. His flesh pulsed and pushed against the opening, yellows and reds mixing and pushing vulgar liquids out of the cut. Wilbur pressed against the wound, causing a broken cry to come from Tommy, as he flinched from the pressure applied. The dagger sunk deeper, a deeper crimson flooding from it and covering the pale skin of Wilburs hands. It pooled and swirled, hundreds of separate agonies in one body, as it collected around them. No… A heavy thud of another fell next to him, and he felt Tommy be pulled from him, but his hands clenched the ripped shirt of his brother. “Wilbur, let go,” Technoblade said, his voice somber, as he tried to remove Wilburs’ hands.
Hands tore Wilbur from Tommy, as Technoblade ripped the ruined shirt and edged the dagger away from Tommy’s fresh. The red cape was now pressed against the mangled skin and flesh. But the red of the cape only deepened, the cape twisting and turning in fear of the blood. The breathes of the boy were hollow now. Small pants. His eyes glassy and hollow, as he searched relentlessly till they focused again. “Everything’s okay Tommy,” Philza spoke, his voice resound and calm causing Wilbur to try and call out in anger- but the grip on his should tightened.
He looked up to see Philza’s sad smile, tears already forming at the edges of his eyes. “Your ok,”he repeated. The youngest boys fear somewhat subsided, and the dagger was pulled out with a sickening squelch. The cape was applied further, seeping in blood till the limit was reached and it trickled down the sides of his chest. “I know, but i don’t want to die yet,” Tommy croaked. His voice was broken, wavering in and out, so unlike the loud boy he usually adored. A hand reached to flimsily grab Wilburs and the blondes head turned, trying to reach Wilburs eyes. “Im sorry Wil, I didn’t mean to disappoint you,” Tommy spoke. Wilburs heart broke and he reached to grip Tommy’s hand, “You never disappointed me Tommy, dont blame yourself,” he replied. His voice shallow and trembling, as he squeezed Tommy’s hand.
A small smile came to the boys face and the shallow breathes subsided into nothing, the blue eyes now hollow and as pale as his ivory skin. All that was left was deafening silence. Techno heaved and removed his hands from the cape and a sob escaped Wilbur, followed by a tear running along his cheek. “He won’t every be forgotten. Not in my lifetime or many after that,” Wilburs voice was raw as he continued, “There will be songs sung and poetry read if i can help it.” He glanced at Philza, the old avian wore a mask of a sad smile and tears running down his withered cheeks. “I know, Wil. Everything will be okay.”