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I want a new yellow Ferrari from the 90's in the driveway
But I know that you wouldn't like that
I want it now, I want it loud, I want it my way
But everybody doesn’t vibe like that
“...TO REVOKE THE CITIZENSHIPS OF TOMMYINNIT AND WILBUR SOOT!” Schlatt’s voice tore through the loud speaker to all gathered, the first presidential speech as the new leader of L'Manburg.
The only sound that pounded through the First President’s was his heart as it attempted to break from his ribcage, chestnut curl blowing into his widened brown eyes stared down the one he ran against and lost. Schlatt stood triumphantly upon the stage he built with his goat horns gleaming above a pressed suit, pointing his finger directly at Wilbur and Tommy. The blonde’s face was ashen pale, staring at the man kicking them from their own creation. The one Wilbur had kept close to him to protect the boy and now he was dragging him to the depths of hell with him.
“Tommy, we have to go.” Wilbur implored, his brain kicking itself into survival mode watching those gathered draw out weapons. “Tommy, we need to leave now."
The brunette grabbed for the teenager’s hand, panic overtaking rationality and descending straight into flight. “We cannot stay anymore, run. ”
Tommy’s focus seems to come back following Wilbur’s tugging lead, far away from all those wielding crossbows aimed in their direction. An arrow flew way too close to the tall man’s foot deep into the pathway, instinctually veering his path towards the closest trees. His father’s combat instruction came back quickly looking for cover from the ranged weapons.
“Wilbur, what are we going to do?” Tommy said between quick gasps, them sprinting away as their aim became more true and close to flesh.
“Go anywhere but here.” Wilbur replied, his thoughts examining the next possibilities as they fled into the forest and away from their now enemies.
“Wilbur, we don't have anywhere else to go!”
“I know that!” Wilbur snapped, then felt bad as Tommy flinched like he had been struck, slowing his pace so he could talk more evenly. “I’m sorry I misspoke my anger, I know we are in a bad spot. But we will figure it out, all you have to do is focus on getting away. Let me worry about the after.”
Tommy nods, lengthening his strides so they are moving faster once more, bursting into the clearing where the Community House lay surrounded by a lake. Wilbur glances around quickly, not seeing anyone he pulls Tommy to a slower pace.
“Catch your breath for a minute, then we will continue.” He urges the younger boy, feeling bad about the terror in those blue depths matching the lake nearby.
Worries hung from every curve on Tommy’s face, a single tear tracking its way down his sharp cheekbone, features growing more pronounced as he reached adulthood. Even so, his mind and body were that of a child, one who shouldn’t be facing such burdens. Fuck, Wilbur had hoped by getting him further from Dream would be better but now they were on the opposite end his weapons and Wilbur wondered how they got there.
“Tom-” Wilbur’s words are cut off by an arrow hitting home into his chest, lungs attempting to gasp as he stumbles back.
His shaking hands reach up to hold the shaft, water lapping at his ankles while he falls back into the lake. Copper floods his mouth as he coughs on blood, the blue sky above peaceful as he falls into the cool water. An endless void of open air he could get lost in, ears ringing as hot agony blooms through his ribcage. A sweet lucidity was all the sound that caressed his ears for a moment before arms came under his torso to hold him above, Wilbur’s right hand still pressed around the wooden implement that had torn its way through his lungs.
Eyes to match the infinite atmosphere above came into his vision, water soaking Tommy’s face as he screamed. The sound was so far away from the dying man, he just hoped the boy was safe too. Praying the blood thirsty bastards got their taste with his second chance being ripped from him and the mob lets Tommy escape.
“WILBUR.” Wilbur felt the depth that agony went in Tommy’s voice, he coughed attempting to gather the words he wanted to say to his brother.
Opening his lips he felt blood escape, trailing down to his jawbone as he attempted to force words through, Tommy’s tears blending with the crimson as it ran down his neck from where they dropped.
“Run.” He choked out, using the last of his strength to attempt to pull himself from Tommy’s grasp to free him of the dead weight.
“Never.” Tommy’s promise both hurt and pleased him, knowing just how attached the two were.
Looking at those sky eyes, Wilbur took his last breath, held in the arms of one far too young to have seen so much death. As his vision faded away the man was selfishly glad the final thing he saw was the one who meant the absolute world to this fuck-up of a leader.
Don't tell me about the rules and break them
And don't tell me about mistakes
And make the same ones I have made before
Don't say you love me more
Better not say it
I met her at church
But she could be Satan
Rustling sounds awaken Wilbur from where he sleeps, deep within the earth in this cursed ravine they had taken refuge in. Tommy had been tossing and turning for most of the night, both boys still slept in the same part of the cave taking comfort in the fact they weren’t alone even as Wilbur pushed him further away.
The man rarely felt like himself anymore, this intense urge to reclaim what was his coupled with his rage for how the situation had evolved had turned him into a prickly soul. Snapping more often he would find himself mumbling to no one while staring at the wall, spending hours trapped in his own head. Fantastical plans of wide-spread destruction horrified the blonde who once looked up to him.
Now, instead of adoration it was often terror and the smallest part of Wilbur was scared too. In these rare moments of clarity from his demons whispering promises of violence and retribution he reflected on who he used to be. Often that felt like an unrecognisable personality completely separate from himself, some phantom moving his body with a single goal. Make sure the thing he created was out of everyone’s hands forever.
Tonight thought? Tonight the emotions tormented him of the angry man he had become. Regret at how often he had driven Tommy away just because the boy was worried about watching his care fade away into some mad presence of revenge.
With a huge sigh and soft curse, he listened as Tommy’s bed creaked while he climbed out of it. Through all the years he had known him, the teenager kept the same habit of when his thoughts bothered him of visiting fresh air. Wilbur let the door swing shut before following his lead, pulling himself from the warm blankets and locating his brown coat.
Patting the pockets he finds his box of cigarettes right where he left them, opening the top to check there is still a lighter inside. His fingers shook as his lungs ached for the smoke that was slowly killing him, the sooner it did the world would become a better place his worst intentions muttered.
But not before he took back what was ripped from him. Of that, he was certain. His half crazed and his sanity agreed, the ideas of a nation only invited conflict, fighting and death.
The half-complete railings brought a tiny smile to the tall man’s face as he left his room to go to the surface, Technoblade’s words echoing his mind after the third time he had fallen from them. The dry snark the piglin was famous for as he commented on how if Wilbur didn’t protest the railings things like this wouldn’t happen.
Wilbur was pretty sure the piglin was just tired of wasting healing potions on stupidity.
He found Tommy where he thought he would be, sitting under a large oak staring at the moon bright in the air above. Stars twinkled against that blanket of black, a beautiful night that was just the right temperature.
Tommy threw an arched eyebrow at the one joining him before his shoulders dropped, clearly just tired of fighting he allowed Wilbur to join him. He watches Wilbur dig a cigarette out after making sure he sat on the side with the wind blowing away, though Tommy was used to his addiction he didn’t want the boy absorbing his toxins.
Least not more than he already had.
Flicking the flint, the lighter sparks as Wilbur takes a deep inhale, the scratching fog calming the need his body craved. Coughing as his throat rejects the action, he takes a moment before taking another puff. Tommy watches him with a caution he is used to, clearly trying to gauge what version of the former President he sat with today.
“Can’t sleep?” Wilbur offers, Tommy jumping from his daze before nodding silently, looking back to the sky above.
“Too much on my mind.” His voice is rough with sleep, bags heavy under those blue orbs.
“Me too.” Wilbur offers a small chuckle, getting no reaction from the teenager.
He takes a few more drags of his vice, working his way too quickly through the tobacco as he tries to take in enough to drown him. Relying on the pressure in his lungs to remind him things are real, not wherever his mind is trying to drag him. Releasing in a hacking cough he stubs out the butt with watering eyes, Tommy looking vaguely concerned now.
Throwing caution to the wind after the attack passes he scoots closer to Tommy and throws his arm around the lanky blonde’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. “Who do we have on our side, Toms? Who is someone you have looked through my letters for ages to learn more about until you met him in person, hm?”
“Technoblade.” He ruefully responds, his lips curving up the smallest amount at the name of his hero.
“If anyone has the ability to help us win our country back I think it’s him, don’t you?” Wilbur offers, hugging his brother tighter against his side. “We got this, we will emerge victorious.”
His reassurance doesn’t last and the silence grows, Tommy’s face falling once more. Wilbur is determined to not let him spiral so by surprise, he digs gentle fingers into the blonde’s sides eliciting a squeal. Tommy attempts to fight back while the bigger brunette tickles him, peals of laughter embalming Wilbur’s cold heart as the boy’s frown disappears.
“Wilbur…hahah..stop!” Tommy protests between laughing, weakly fighting off his attacks.
He decides to let him go for now, reaching up to mess his blonde curls which Tommy bitches about with no bite. Dropping his hand he sees the boy he took under his wing all those months ago, wide blue eyes waiting for his next move.
“Let me worry about the after.” He begs the blonde, who with some hesitation nods, trusting him to do the right thing.
You and I are two oceans apart
We're on earth to break each other's hearts, in two
And it's hard, with you
When I'm too far from you
I look at the stars, do you?
“Phil, kill me.” Wilbur begs his father standing before him.
After years of separation their reunion was about to be cut short if the damned avian would actually listen to him. His chocolate eyes met the crow’s ocean blue, a shade so similar to Tommy’s, as he pleaded for Phil to end his miserable existence.
“You are my son!” Phil’s voice cracks, a wide span of night-black wings spreading from his shoulders as he stands across from his son, grip steady on the diamond sword Wilbur had pressed into his hands.
He stepped forward into the blade at his throat, feeling skin break around the sharp edge. A son’s gaze met his father’s asking the impossible, to put his blood to death over something he barely understood yet. “Don’t you see, they will only call you traitor if you do not end my traitorous soul? I blew up a country in front of you, I am guilty of treason. Put that fucking blade through my chest or you are only casting your same fate when one of them gets up here.”
Wilbur’s chest tightened seeing the panicked gaze the crow met him with, flickering between the crater outside his son carved and the source of disorder standing with crimson leaking down his pale neck.
The demons in his head cheered at seeing everyone’s looks upon the destruction he wrought, the only reason cutting through was the blonde who looked on in despair. Wilbur knew Tommy had held out hope he wouldn’t actually follow through on his threats, leaving a deep hole where their nation once stood. Looking at the young boy who stood at his best friend’s side a small voice whispered the words he knew the blonde was cursing at him right now, feeling his disappointment cut deep.
“Just fucking do it.” Wilbur raised his voice to a scream at his father, Phil’s eyes met him once more. “Slay me or be deemed a traitor.”
“How can you ask this horrible thing of me?” Phil sounded so distraught, his face in so much pain.
Wilbur saw his father throughout the years at that exact moment; his first memories of the crow chasing him around his hardcore world where he was raised. The proud looks over the years as he matured under his and his Mother’s careful watch, encouraging his every venture as he aged. Phil brought home Wilbur’s first guitar and let the boy sing amateur concerts to him as he practised from the book that came with the instrument, showering him with love and affection. The look upon his face when Wilbur waved goodbye to him leaving that world forever, striving out for his own adventure and only communicating through his Mother’s crows to the avian as they spent time apart.
Now they would be separated again when he actually fucking listened to him, letting Wilbur go home to Her embrace instead of here where he was trapped by his fixations and decisions.
“You are freeing me from pain.” Wilbur attempted to reason, reaching out to grasp his father’s forest green robes. “Please.”
Phil shook his head angrily as his cheeks were wet with moisture, Wilbur covering the hand holding the sword to his own throat and encouraging him to press deeper.
“Let me die to my father’s blade instead of one of the other’s out there who are most likely going to drag it out as an example.”
Looking outside once more Tommy’s gaze is what he holds onto while his father finally does as he asked, drawing the sword back to drive it directly into his chest. A mirror wound to the arrow he received for his second chance, a relief singing along with the pain that raced through his body as his life essence splashed down the blue steel.
The brunette’s legs gave out, the hilt his resting place as he collapsed for the final time into Phil’s waiting arms. The crows' clothes were stained deep red as Wilbur’s blood escaped his body, Phil releasing the sword handle to wrap both arms around his dying mortal flesh.
He kept his gaze locked on the eyes that held all his affection, Tommy’s mouth opened in a silent scream as he was felled. Wilbur was just glad it was him leaving this plane for the final time, one less responsibility off Tommy’s shoulder’s as the main cause of conflict had been shredded to shrapnel by the First President’s careful hands.
His last coherent moments are spent hoping Tommy knows what he wanted to tell him, something that had become his mantra as he let his last marble roll away. That this was his burden to bear and with his demise that should take care of the blame.
“Let me worry about the after.” Are the last words to cross his mind, accepting the casual embrace of his final death on this server.
But you’re the flame I use when it gets dark
“Let me worry about the after.” Tommy mocks to the empty ocean, the last place he saw Wilbur disappear.
Rowing a boat out to only be vaporised by some storm the blonde couldn’t explain, he listened as the water lapped the shores he stood upon. The boy hadn’t been able to leave yet, it had been several hours since he followed the tall brunette out here only for him to leave without a trace.
Now he was just gone, raving and rambling something about finally going home before they reached this godforsaken body of salted liquid. Tommy barely understood half the shit he said. Not that this was an unusual fact but something similar to the crazed energy of old had possessed the man when they reached this open field.
As they screamed at each other for years old wounds Tommy realised just how much of it was fueled by Wilbur announcing the fact he was leaving, permanently. Sure the two had spent days antagonising the fuck out of one another and others around them, but Tommy had trouble imagining a world where the sarcastic brunette wasn’t there.
Now that terrible fact had become a reality and the person Tommy wanted to talk about it most had left him.
Like everyone else had.
Tommy felt his chest seize up as that terrible phrase carved itself into his heart, reminding him he was so unlovable people left him at the hands of a madman for months. He shivered, picking up a stone to toss at the ocean with a scream of emotional release.
“WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?”
The teenager wasn’t sure who the sentence was directed towards, many faces flashing through his mind before it ended on the same one it always did.
Wilbur.
The whole range of his emotions played like a horrible film production; his intoxicating laughter, his songs, his tears and the man’s anger tipped with hot fire. Each time Tommy watched him die, blood dripped from the body of the one who always tried to protect him most in that cold stone box, the lake, at the end of Philza’s sword.
Even as they were vile and bitter towards one another, Tommy loved him.
That was what hurt the most. The fact that he loved him, and Wilbur left him.
Letting out another yell, he breaks his reflection with another stone he threw in with all his strength. Not wanting to see the water streaming down his face as he mourned him one more time.
And somehow, there was a finality to this departure. Tommy had a gut feeling he would never return. Good fucking riddance to the one who started a revolution. To the one who held him in the darkest of nights when the emotions got to be too much.
To the one who loved him so fiercely he died for him several times over.
“Fuck you, Wilbur Soot.” Tommy bit out, sadness winning against the anger as the boy knelt at the ocean side. “How could you?”
He could ask as many questions or curse him out as much as he wanted, but Wilbur’s answer would never come. A closing cover on the history of them, two boys who found each other at their worst and clung on for dear life through it all. An ending he never saw coming, and would think about as long as he breathed air on this world.
Who could he push his anxieties onto now that after would never come?
You've got enough pain for both of us
I've got all these things I'm focused on
You treat all the rules like you're the queen
But you and I are few and far between