Chapter Text
Tubbo leans down to brush a quick kiss to Michael’s forehead, tucks the blanket more securely around its sleeping form, then retreats down the ladder with a final glance back at the huddle of fluff and bedding.
“All good,” he reports as he drops down from the ladder, glad that the kid was more scared than hurt and none the worse for wear after his brief spell with Sam. “He’s asleep.”
Eret exhales with a relieved smile, pushing hair out of her face. “That’s great. Are you going back to Snowchester?”
Tubbo stifles a yawn. “Yeah, I think so. What’s Boo doing?”
“Chilling in his two-by-one hole in the ground,” Technoblade observes, peering out of the frosted window. “Doesn’t look very comfortable to me, but I suppose it wouldn’t matter too much to a ghost. You guys want me to follow you back?”
“Nah, you don’t have to,” Tubbo says through another yawn that makes Eret shoot him a look of concern, “but uh– can I ask something from you…?”
Techno shrugs. “Fire away.”
“I think,” Tubbo begins, tapping his fingers against his leg, “we made a pretty good team today.”
“Mm.”
“If–” Tubbo hesitates. “If I need help again, in future–”
Techno considers him at length, and Tubbo chews nervously on his lip, shifting from foot to foot. Then the pink-haired man seems to come to a decision, and gives him a brief nod with a flicker of a smile.
“All right. You can call me.”
Tubbo slumps in relief. “Thanks, Technoblade.”
“I’m up to help if I can, too,” Eret adds, tugging open the door and wincing at the biting gust of cold air that sweeps into the room. “Wow, I am going to have to get used to that. Tubbo, you should probably get back. You look about ready to keel over.”
Now that they mention it, Tubbo is suddenly very aware of how heavy his eyelids are starting to feel. The adrenaline from the day’s excitement is draining away, leaving waves of exhaustion to seep into him in its place, and he stifles another yawn. “Yeah, that’s–” another yawn– “probably a good idea.”
Techno claps him on the shoulder as the three of them step out into the snow. “I’ll keep an eye on your kid; make sure he doesn’t get in accidents. It’d be a real shame if it did after we spent all this time retrieving him.”
“Thanks again, bossman.”
-
Back at home, Tubbo checks his texts before he goes to bed. Tommy hasn’t replied to the message he sent earlier, he notes.
Well, he’s not too worried. Tommy’s out on a walk dicking around in the woods; he’ll check his chats sooner or later when he’s done terrorising the local wildlife. Right now, the main thing in Tubbo’s primary concerns is sleep.
-----
The next morning, Tubbo checks his texts as he leans against the wall of his cabin, taking a breather from shovelling last night’s snowfall off the paths. Still nothing from Tommy.
Okay. That was weird. Maybe he’d been tired after getting back?
-
Tubbo knocks on the door set into the side of a small, grassy hill covered in wildflowers. “Tommy?”
Tommy doesn’t answer the door even after Tubbo knocks several more times, and even chances a shout to see if he’s still asleep. Tubbo tries the handle, finding it locked – aaand shoot, he left the spare key back in Snowchester. Brilliant thinking on his part.
He sighs. Never mind. He’ll get the key and check up again later; it’s only been half a day, after all.
-----
It’s been two and a half days since they got Michael back and threw Sam into Pandora’s Vault, and Tommy has not replied to a single text of Tubbo’s, ever increasing in their tone of worry.
tommy are you back yet
oi
are oyu there??
*you
bossman im at the door open up
are u asleep
tommy?
where are you its been almost two days
stop gjosting me are you ok?????
please answer
tommy youre scaring me
answer
Tubbo runs his fingers through his hair, staring at his comm screens with a heightening sense of unease. It’s not like Tommy to just…drop off the radar for this long. He’s missed every single call that Tubbo’s dialled, and hasn’t even read his texts.
He hasn’t even been online, either. The little indicator by his profile has been completely dark ever since he’d gone out. Its status reads last online 2 days ago.
“Shit,” Tubbo mutters, shooting one last futile look at his screens before closing them and shoving his comm back into the pocket of his thick coat. He’s waited long enough already – likely even far too long, and there’s a bad feeling that’s been brewing in his gut since the night before.
Time to search the area.
-----
Tubbo spends nearly five hours scouring every area he knows around the Prime Path, with no results. He’d run into Puffy at one point and promptly asked her if she’d seen Tommy anywhere, but the Captain had only a shake of her head as an answer – though she’d promised to help look around too, thankfully.
He sighs and stops in the middle of his pacing, raising his head to see the sun slowly sink behind towering walls of mossy stone dancing with a multitude of coloured lights. He’d walked all the way to Eret’s castle.
Tubbo stares up the steps to the entrance. Several lights are on in the windows, meaning that, more likely than not, Eret is home. He could ask them…?
Oh, why not, he decides, and begins to trudge up the lengthy flights.
-----
“No, I haven’t. Sorry, Tubbo,” Eret says, instantly dashing Tubbo’s hopes to the ground. His brow furrows at Tubbo’s expression. “Is something wrong?”
Tubbo picks at the sleeve of his coat. “I can’t find him. He went for a walk the other day, when we got Michael back, and…he hasn’t responded to any of his texts or calls. Or been online at all.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s not good.”
“Tell me about it,” Tubbo sighs heavily. Eret gives his shoulder a quick squeeze of reassurance.
“I’ll start looking around, asking people. We’ll find him, yeah? Things’ll be okay. We’ll find Tommy.”
Tubbo stares out of the window at the darkening sky.
“I really hope so.”
The chilling unease tying his guts into knots has gotten worse, and he has a gnawing feeling that it’s not going to get better any time soon.