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There is no warning before blood-red vines burst in through the windows, but Tommy is quick to jump into action when they invade the building he and Tubbo are currently occupying. Knife in hand, he grabs Tubbo’s arm, pulling him away and down the nearby corridor as the vines snake towards them.
“Shit,” Tubbo gasps as they run. “How’d it find us so fast?”
“Who fucking knows, just run!”
That’s a lie. Tommy knows exactly how E66 — the pandemic plaguing the world — found them within mere hours of them entering the building. It tends to be drawn to those it has infected, and this one is no different.
A vine wraps itself around Tommy’s leg, and he flinches, grateful for the protective clothing Tubbo had found at an abandoned military checkpoint. He leans down and slices the end off with his knife, shakes off what’s still attached to his leg, and keeps running.
"Tommy?!"
“I’m right behind you, don’t slow down!”
Gunshots ring out, and a few paces ahead, Tommy sees Tubbo stop in his tracks – what did he just fucking say? – breathing heavily. He has a tight grip on his pistol, and a vine lies dead on the ground in front of him.
Tommy assumes the worst.
“Fuck, did it get you?” Tommy rushes to Tubbo’s side and places a hand on his shoulder, eyes wide. “Shit.”
“I’m–” Tubbo swallows. “I’m okay. It couldn’t reach the skin.”
Tommy releases a breath he doesn’t realise he’s been holding. “Oh, thank Prime.”
There’s a sound behind them, and Tommy ushers Tubbo further down the hall. “C’mon, we gotta–”
Without warning, a vine bursts from a ventilation hatch above their heads and grabs Tommy around the neck, where there is nothing protecting his skin. He claws at it, having dropped his knife when grabbed, but it doesn’t budge.
"Tommy!"
Three gunshots ring out close to Tommy’s ear, and the vine loosens its grip. Tommy takes the opportunity to wriggle out of its grasp, breaths shaking as his feet hit the ground. He retrieves his knife, and the vines seemingly retreat, giving the duo a moment to collect themselves.
“Holy fuck,” Tubbo whispers, staring at Tommy with wide eyes. “Holy fuck. Tommy, you—“ Tubbo’s eyes are shining with tears, and Tommy is unsure as to why until he notices the burning around his neck. He lifts a hand, and his breath catches when his fingers brush against–
Shit.
Hands shaking, Tubbo fumbles with his pistol, attempting to replace the magazine. It slides in with a satisfying click, and, in no surprise to Tommy, Tubbo lifts the weapon and points it right at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. Tommy knows he’s seen the ugly, red rash that is slowly invading the skin of his neck.
"You're infected."
Immediately, Tommy sees Tubbo’s finger move to the trigger. However, Tubbo hesitates, and Tommy snatches the opportunity that presents itself, moving to disarm him before he can react.
“Tubbo,” Tommy says, throwing the pistol aside, “I need to tell you something.”
Eyes wide, Tubbo blinks, gaze flicking between the discarded pistol and Tommy. “Wh– What–?”
Tommy hunches his shoulders, crossing his arms. “I’m… immune. To all this E66 shit. I have no fucking clue how, but I am. That’s, uh… that’s how it was able to find us so fast. Because I’ve been infected before.”
Tubbo blinks again, visibly trembling where he stands.
"What?"
Tommy runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, trying to think of how best to explain his situation. “I seriously don’t know how, and— fuck, I don’t even know why, but— Look, if you don’t believe me, just—“
Tommy steps back, and as Tubbo watches, disbelieving, he pulls down the sleeve of his left arm, just enough to reveal a similar rash around his wrist. The colour is so faded you can barely see it, but it indeed resembles what’s on Tommy’s neck.
“You remember when we met, right? You saved me from some of those crazy fuckers who’d gone insane with the infection?”
Tubbo nods, seeming to relax a little as he processes the situation. “You— Shit, did they infect you?”
“Yeah.” Tommy pulls his sleeve back up and leans against a nearby wall. “I didn’t want to say anything because— Well, because I was fucking terrified of what would happen. I didn’t know if I was just gonna die, or become one of the fucking loonies roaming around, or—“ Tommy bites his tongue. “You get the idea.”
“…You do realise hiding the infection before you knew you were immune is, like, the worst possible thing you could have done,” Tubbo says, deadpan. Tommy barks out a laugh, surprised that his friend is handling this so unbelievably well.
“That’s a very reasonable and valid point, Tubs, but consider: I didn’t want to scare off the first person I’d met since the world went to shit.”
Tubbo crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk slowly growing on his face. “You could’ve killed me, Tom.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh no, yeah, you’re right. I would’ve beat your ass before you got anywhere near me.”
Tommy’s jaw drops. “Wha– Fuck you!”
Tubbo laughs as he walks off to retrieve the pistol, ensuring the safety is switched on before he approaches Tommy again.
“In all seriousness,” Tubbo starts, smiling. “I’m glad you’re not dying. Or dead. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Tommy returns the smile. “The feeling’s mutual. Honestly, I don’t even know who I’d be without you.”
It’s subtle, but Tommy sees Tubbo’s brow furrow. “Uh… yourself?”
Tommy shrugs. “In this bitch of a world? Who the fuck knows?”
And the two of them laugh, momentarily allowing themselves to forget their terrible circumstances. In a world like this, you need all the help you can get, and Tommy and Tubbo are glad they can rely on each other, even when the odds seem stacked against them.