Chapter Text
Tubbo said he'd never lose hope, till hope lost him.
Tubbo sat at the same desk he'd never wanted to be at again, staring intently at a blank paper, plastered with tears. His pen held tightly in his hand, wondering his mind for words to say. No, he hadn't lost hope, hope has lost him, atleast over 20 bottles of alcohol laced the floor, all drank and or smashed. His blank stare was full of despair yet confusion, Michael was with Tommy and Phil at the moment, as he couldn't take care of him anymore.
'Boo.
I understand your mad, but please come home, Michael needs you, I need you, Tommy needs you, please, what made you leave us?'
He began on the paper, his handwriting sloppy from his intake of alcohol. He thought for a moment, clicking his pen on the desk a few times.
'Michael wants you to play togather, I haven't told him yet, I just can't, please,'
He continued on the paper. He swallowed the knot in his throat harshly, slight tears pricked his eyes, his mind was fuzzyand he didn't really understand what was going on, everything was so confusing and unclear to him in the moment.
'Please, come home, we're waiting, we've been waiting, we want to know your at least ok -Bee'
He finished. He folded the paper and put it into an envelope, He whistled and Phil's crow cawed at the window, Tubbo stumbled, getting up and carefully getting over the shattered glass and bottles, handing the crow the envelope, ''Give it to -Hic- Ranboo,'' Tubbo mumbled, (he hicced because he's drunk obviously) And sat back down, the crow left with a flap of it's wings and another caw. Tubbo looked around, everything was spinning and blurring, he began to see things, usually Tommy, Ranboo, Michael, and himself having fun, but there were a few sad ones or disturbing ones, Tubbo began to think about stuff, although his mind was fuzzy. He is so tired, so so tired, he's exhausted, he doesn't know what to do, and he can't handle everything, he can barely take care of himself, he pretty much can't even see his own son anymore. 'To bad' no one was here to stop him, pills were scattered on the desk, the bottle tipped over, Tubbo was leaned against the desk, foaming from the mouth, this was it,
the end, he didn't want to give up, but he was given up upon.