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Fred was… different.
Tubbo was never sure why he was drawn to the worker, but he knew that he was special. It had originally all been for information, in a desperate attempt to find his god children. Within barely ten minutes of speaking to the blue-wearing man Tubbo had found himself… attached. Before long they were exchanging letters near spawn, both locations secretive. Before long they were exchanging flowers.
Perhaps it was just the feeling of friendship, something that Tubbo felt a strange lack of. Of course he had many people he was friendly with on the island. He was affectionately part of the “Morning Crew”. He often hung out with Philza and Etoiles. Occasionally he followed Foolish around on some wacky Capybara filled adventure. So of course he had friends. The only thing was with said friends there was a age gap to the point where they could all affectionately call him “kiddo” and it wouldn’t be too weird. In fact, Tubbo was half-sure a majority of the island deemed he was their pseudo little brother or son.
So yeah, with Fred things were different. So different, Tubbo would do whatever he could to make sure they could stay friends. Fred was put in exile for speaking with him? The teen would simply be more of a pain for Cucurucho. Fred was stressed because of a missing worker? Easy, Tubbo will just investigate it and give his penpal the information. The lengths he would go to for Fred were unimaginable.
When it came to the details of the letter exchange, something was so heart-pounding about sneaking off to spawn just to read and write letters. Yet Tubbo found himself checking constantly for new ones. Occasionally, the young adult found himself running away from his family just to check if Fred had written to him. He really was fulfilling the trope of a giddy child.
Then the flowers came, each particularly picked with specific meanings in mind. Accompanied with each letter was a “Yours Truly” written in neat and precise cursive. There was something so special and unique about the letter exchange. Perhaps it’s because the communication was unorthodox. Maybe it was just the people involved. All he knew was that before he could notice, Tubbo was falling falling falling and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. Did he want to? He still isn’t sure.
In no time the nineteen-year-old’s family caught on. Because of course the nosy fuckers had. With that came relentless teasing and jokes. Part of Tubbo couldn’t truly be mad at them. After all, it was just their way of supporting him. He too, often found himself laughing at his predicament. Only he would have the misfortune of falling in love with a federation worker. A federation worker who weeks ago had just learnt what a friend was. A federation worker who was clearly experiencing emotions for the first time too. God, Tubbo felt like a terrible person.
When the young adult chatted with Bagi— someone he was quickly regarding as a friend —he could see a spark light in her eyes. Desperately he hoped that she had not caught on too. At that point nearly all his friends knew of his feelings toward his penpal. By now, it was a running gag. Something that came from sincere and real feelings devolved into an inside joke. Somehow, Tubbo was okay with that. The longer he spent joking about it gave him more time to revel in blissful denial.
But things could only exist like that for so long. He was far too content for life to stay that way, naturally everything would go wrong. And it went wrong. So horrifically and gut-wrenchingly wrong.
“You’re really cute, Fred.” Bagi beamed at the federation worker, bright and playful. Something sunk in Tubbo’s gut as he whipped around, jaw dropping. What. The Fuck. For a moment the world stilled. Nothing but three figures. A beautiful woman with a dazzling smile, an unmoving federation worker, and a nineteen-year-old who felt his heart stop. Dramatically, Pac had gasped, knowing everything about the situation and what that meant for his friend. Fit and Philza had stopped conversing, both listening for what came next.
In a split second Tubbo had shoved Bagi away from his penpal. Tears welling up in his eyes as he screamed, “WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS! WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS! THAT’S SO FUCKED UP!”. The woman in question just laughed, as if it was nothing more than a younger brother throwing a fit. The young adult pushed harder yet Bagi kept her ground, teasingly giving him light shoves in return. It was as if she hadn’t just crushed his soul. As if this was just a game— a ploy to her.
“OH WAIT! YOU LOVE FRED!” And it was. As if things weren’t horrific already, things got worse. Tubbo froze, eyes wide and tear-filled. She did not just say that out loud. Heart pounding, the teen’s gaze jumped between everyones. From Bagi to Fred to Phil then back to Fred to Fit to Cellbit to Pac then back to Fred. In an instant, the nineteen-year-old ran. Ran as far and fast as he could. No one followed.
At a far enough range to be no longer see or hear anyone, the teen collapsed. Surrounded by trees he dropped to the ground in sorrow. The young adult wasn’t even sure why he was acting like this. Why he even cared. But he did, and it hurt. Deep down Tubbo had realized it hurt because it was real. The emotions he felt. The way Bagi said it was blunt and clear, no longer hidden beneath layers of jokes. He loves Fred and that hurts. Bagi had plotted to get them together, maybe in some reality they are together.
After Tubbo finally pulled himself together, he slowly dragged his feet back to spawn. Perhaps he could lock himself in an indestructible box and starve to death. Then again, that was wishful thinking. If he would need to face everyone at one point or another, might as well get it over with now. Maybe later Fit will take mercy on him and give the teen advice instead of a teasing. Even so, he was given a mysterious book saying he needed to be at spawn ten minutes ago. If he didn’t show up, who knows the consequences. Unfortunately the forces of the island would not stop for a nineteen-year-old’s pitiful love life.
When he arrived back, no one noticed. The first sounds he heard was Bagi speaking with Fred. Or more specifically, Bagi explaining love to Fred. The newfound familiar sinking feeling made it’s way through Tubbo’s chest and down to his gut. Everything with Fred is ruined, isn’t it? Maybe it was doomed to begin with. Maybe all Bagi had done was speed up their ultimate demise. Maybe it was all Tubbo’s fault. Things tended to be that way, so it was only natural that it stayed that way. If things were ever going to change he needs to stop being so selfish. He needs to not be distracted by his penpal. After all, with his mysterious book the chances were high that they could find new information. He should focus for once in his life.
In the end, they had found clues in the eggs. Tubbo should be happy— overjoyed, even. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? He originally befriended Fred for this specific purpose. They had info on the eggs now, the first clear clues anyone has gotten in a while. Yet why could the young adult only think about his penpal? It’s stupid. It’s selfish. He is selfish. A part of him feels as though he’s been told that before. For the first time in weeks there was new information on his god kids and all he could think about was his stupid crush.
“Oh, Tubbo. I— I have to tell you something.” Bagi tapped the younger islander on the arm, gently guiding him away from the crowd of people. Deep down, Tubbo knew what her next words would be. After all, he had overheard her speaking with Fred. “Fred is not in love with you. I am so sorry.” It was genuine, her apology. Even if she had possibly ruined everything, the teen with blonde-tipped-hair couldn’t help but notice that she had done it for his sake.
“That’s okay! I don’t care.” The nineteen-year-old lied straight through his teeth. They both knew it. Just as before, if he continued to ignore it, then he wouldn’t have to feel. Feel all the pain surging through his body in that moment. Feel the heart-ache reeking his soul. The longer he could pretend, the better. The more he ignores it, the more he can pretend, and the easier it is to deny. It’s his supposed feel-proof plan and it’s worked enough times. No one has known when he was hurt before, have they? No one’s noticed the way he wakes up screaming as he relives burning alive. Nor do they notice the way his whole body freezes as he sees Cucurucho. They don’t notice and that’s just what he wants.
The teen doesn’t process the people following him as he tries to separate himself from the group. Or maybe he does register Pac’s soft requests to come chat it out, and he choses to ignore it in favor of blissful oblivion. Tubbo’s not sure where he’s going, but he needs to be not there. Before him, he finds a river. Wading in, slowly, he nearly smiles. Going deeper and deeper, not stopping until he is completely submerged.
The water around him was cool. If he ignored the burning of his lungs, the sensation would be nice. He’s still not sure why he jumped in the lake. Maybe he needed a moment to think, reflect on everything that’s happened. Tubbo thinks it’s fitting that he’s chosen to drown himself in the lake. After all, the Federation and other mysterious entities on the island have always tried to burn him. Whether striking him with lighting, or locking him in a glass box filled with lava. They believed he is destined to burn. It’s only right that he takes himself out through water. Even if it’s only temporary, a part of him wishes it wasn’t. The part of him he tries to shove down because if he thinks too hard he gets this weird sinking feeling that he hates.
Briefly, Tubbo hears a scream. Loud and silence cutting. Before long, there’s water splashing as people join him in the bottom of the lake. The teen hates himself for the spike of annoyance that runs through him. Selfish. A part of him whispers. He wanted to drown in serenity. Perhaps next time— if there is one —he’d do things differently. Not so spontaneous and close to everyone. Perhaps if he really wanted to be in pain, he’d set up an infinite respawn loop.
“Tubbo don’t drown yourself, come on!” Fit begged, swimming down to be next to his friend. As the words ran through Tubbo’s communicator, all he could feel was selfish. He was nothing more than an inconvenience and now everyone here knows. Like they were bound to know. And deep down, the teenager knows it won’t be long before they reject him too. Just as Fred has, just as… something else has before. All Tubbo knows is that he is being an inconvenience, but he’s hurt and he can’t bring himself to truly care.
“If you’re drowned, how can you talk with Fred?” Pac questioned. Tubbo had a simple answer to that question, he wouldn’t. Everything would be easier if he just didn’t. Maybe, Fred doesn’t want to talk to him at all. After today’s shit show? Tubbo wouldn’t blame the federation worker. After today, the young adult’s convinced he might as well just give himself up to the federation. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to deal with everything. Maybe they were wrong to thaw him out of the ice.
“Hey, hey Tubbo,” Cellbit whispered, grabbing the nineteen-year-old by the shoulders. Somehow, the young adult seemed smaller and much more young looking than remembered. The boy’s blue eyes were blown wide. His pale face was partially covered as it was tucked into the teen’s hands. Hiding. “We’re here for you. We’re here for you, you know? Everyone has this kind of event. Everyone gets heartbroken. You just can’t… you can’t let the bad stuff inside. Especially not the bad thoughts.”
“This is the worst,” Tubbo choked out. Because it is. Why is it that he can handle being shot down by Cucurucho yet not the truth? It’s simple, Fred doesn’t like him back, get over it. As Cellbit said, everyone’s been through this. He needs to stop whining and suffer like everyone else supposedly had. Yet he still can’t bring himself too. The sinking feeling in his gut is still very much there and he cannot cope with this. “It’s over. It’s so over, everything is over.”
“It’s not. It’s not over, this is just the beginning.” Cellbit offered a small smile. Because what else could he do? Tubbo felt less like he was being comforted and more like he was just a spectacle. After all, if the islanders had anything better to do, they wouldn’t be gathering around watching him wallow in self pity. Surely they couldn’t all just fuck off and leave him to drown in peace? Although despite everything, the young adult couldn’t help but a feel a little grateful for the small reassurances.
Even with Bagi and Cellbit throwing out as many reassurances as they could muster, accompanied by Fit and Pac hovering closely behind him, Tubbo couldn’t help but still feel hollow. Fred is literally just a federation worker— the nineteen-year-old shouldn’t be feeling like this. But he is, because that dumb federation worker is his penpal and that means the world to both of them. How could he possibly be okay when he might just lose that. He might have already lost that. “I think I’m just gonna stay here for a bit, guys.” Tubbo had mumbled softly.
Not a second after, their was another splash into the water, “Toby, what’s wrong King?” Philza looked at his pseudo-son with concern in his eyes. Phil makes everything better. That’s something that Tubbo has always believed. From the moment he met the man, the Angel of Death had waves of warmth cascading off him. Phil makes everything better. Phil has always made everything better. But not this time. This time there was nothing Phil could do and both him and Tubbo would both have to accept it.
“Fred broke his heart,” Cellbit offered simply, desperately holding off a laugh of amusement. It must’ve been funny for them, watching their youngest islander drown himself because of unrequited love. Bitterly, Tubbo thought of himself as Quesadilla Island’s latest form of entertainment. He most likely would’ve got a kick out of this if his heart didn’t feel as though it was burning. From there, Phil promptly shut up. For what could he offer Tubbo when the man’s wife was literally the Goddess of Death?
The nineteen-year-old continued to groan into his hands. Oddly wholesome, the group had chosen to stay by his side despite every single one of them drowning with him. This fact was later long forgotten as in Tubbo’s mind, every single person had an ulterior motive. In his mind, Bagi was simply trying to right her wrong of causing Fred of break his heart. Cellbit had clearly found his despair amusing and offered advice for the joke of it. Fit was there out of pure pity as before he’d never seen the young mechanic so upset. Pac was there because he would feel guilty for leaving the teen alone in such a state. And Phil? Well Phil was there because his two children were missing and he has nothing fucking better to do.
“You don’t need a loving relationship to be happy man,” Cellbit had tapped the teen’s shoulder again, grabbing the mechanic’s attention as he offered genuine advice. For a second, Tubbo’s wails paused, taking in the man’s words. That advice was actually true! But— wait a second.
“YOU’RE LITERALLY MARRIED.” Pure annoyance surged through the youngest islander. Mr. Cellbit I-love-Roier telling Tubbo that he doesn’t need a relationship to be happy? The abrupt cackles of everyone else in the river told the teenager all he needed to know. How much more of a hypocrite could Cellbit have been? Philza had wisely chosen not to give his input on the teenage love story. The Angel of Death has his Goddess. Who is he to tell his pseudo-son that he doesn’t need love. In fact, the two people who know the most on complicated love stories had decidedly given just as bad advice. Both Pac and Fit were floundering anyway. Realistically, out of the five people in front of Tubbo, none of them could help him at this moment. In fact, Tubbo was sure no advice could be any help until he just talked to Fred.
But the next time he “talked” with Fred only made the nineteen-year-old’s heart ache more than it had been before. From the beginning of the letter addressed with a “Dear Mr. Tubbo,” instead of a “Dear Tubbo” to the ending signed with a “-WA02” instead of a “Yours Truly, Fred”. Everything about that letter had made Tubbo hurt. Suddenly, the consequences of yesterday’s actions were finally catching up to him and he was more afraid than anything. Afraid of losing everything that he had so quickly found he couldn’t live without. It was as if the noose that had always hung around his neck suddenly tightened. He had always known him and Fred could never have a happy ending. He knows that all he had was wild fantasies and wishful thinking. He just… never thought it would end this soon. Too busy living in his revere, it never occurred to him that it could all end just as quickly as it had begun.
With those thoughts the teen began to cry. Tear drops slid from his pale cheeks to the pages of his newest letter from his penpal. Before long, the sky began to cry with him too for he and nature are one. The world felt his sorrow and sadness— something Tubbo had desperately tried to keep at bay. He had always known bad things would happen if he felt, perhaps if the young islander worked harder to bury his feelings then he wouldn’t be standing drenched in the rain. Just once, however, the teen let himself feel. For once, he sobbed. He sobbed with everything he had for he felt like he lost everything he had. Surely he too deserved to let emotions consume him.
It’s all Bagi’s fault. A voice inside Tubbo had spat. And he agreed. If not for Bagi, then Fred wouldn’t know. After all, the nineteen-year-old had taken such care to hide his feelings around the federation worker. In fact, until the older woman had screamed it to the world, the teen himself wasn’t even sure if he liked Fred. In the nineteen-year-old’s mind it was a joke. He didn’t realize he actually liked Fred. Therefore, it’s all Bagi’s fault and—
Tubbo sobbed harder, knees plummeting to the ground as he curled in on himself. No. It isn’t Bagi’s fault, was it? It was his. He’d been the reason for misfortune all along, hadn’t he? Ever since he was unfrozen, the island had been rapidly falling apart. He was to blame for the eggs disappearances. Was he not? He was the one who broke into the chamber that got the eggs’ things burnt. Tubbo has been at the forefront of nearly every inconvenience and detrimental plot since he joined the island. Surely if anything else were to go wrong in his friendship with Fred, he is to blame. He tried desperately to convince himself it was Bagi when… Fred hates him because he is a terrible friend.
“Hey Tubbo,” Fit dropped in from above, a wide smile on the bald man’s face. Despite the damp clothes, the trident in the man’s hands gleamed from enchantments. After all, the only time he could use it was during rain and it seemed every other time it rained bad things tended to happen. Despite eventually finding out how his previous statement would apply here, the man laughed out a, “Just so you know, I know you’re sad— and like the weather corresponds with you or something —but keep being sad please because this is so fucking awesome.”
Instead of the offended face— that hid laughter —and retort Fit often got back, all he received was a soft “Okay,” from Tubbo’s mouth. In an instant the man caught onto the fact that something was genuinely wrong. Out of everything that had happened to the blonde-tipped teen on the island, nothing had ever made him phased. He had always kept a wide smile and eager curiosity that had drawn Fit to him. After all, Tubbo was so remarkably similar to Fit’s own child that it hurt. It hurt enough to make the bald man yearn for Ramon even more and it certainly hurt enough for him to think of the kid as his own.
“I— uh— is everything okay? Like—“
“Yep. All good.” The nineteen-year-old hadn’t even attempted to smile or liven his tone. He stayed monotonous, staring at the small leather-bound notebook in his hand. It was raining already. Isn’t it? There’s no point in trying to turn a rainy day to sunshine. Not when it hurt this much. Fit’s worry had only increased ten-fold. In the month in which he’s known Tubbo, the bald man couldn’t recount a time the teen had sounded so… dead. Not even after the blonde-tipped boy had been burned alive. No one should sound as empty as the teen was. Especially not Tubbo of all people.
“Are— are you sure?” Fit pushed. Because if he didn’t, no one else would. To everyone else on the server this was just the supposed Tubbo Way. The older man knew the Tubbo Way is simply self-depreciation and insomnia. Fit saw it as the young adult was just like his trains. Chugging down the tracks and steaming through every obstacle. But the tracks had an end, and the teen is hurling towards it. If no one will stop Tubbo, then by god will Fit try his damn best to. “Is this about Fred?”
“Who’s Fred?” The teenager’s still tear-filled gaze was empty, as if he was millions of miles away from here. Perhaps he is better off far from Quesadilla Island. The young adult turned away, hiding. As if Fit’s now obstructed view of the teen’s face could further hide any emotions he was experiencing. As the word’s left the younger’s mouth, even Fit could feel his heart sink. One thing was feeling numb, another was to completely ignore the existence of someone who only the day prior Tubbo was completely head over heels for. This entire exchange had only sent the older man’s mind reeling as he tried to completely rearrange his whole understanding of the enigma that is Tubbo.
To put it simply, Fit was at a loss for words. Word vomiting anything that would make the younger see that he was only trying to help. Why couldn’t Tubbo see that he only wants to help the young adult. If anyone was going to have his back, Fit swore he would. “Who— Who’s Fred? Tubbo— the federation worker—“
“Oh. You mean WA02?” The teen’s back was facing him. Fit would like to believe that his body hadn’t shuttered at the hollowness of the younger’s voice. He would also choose to ignore the squawking noises that escaped his flabbergasted mouth. If Fit from yesterday would know that this was how Tubbo would eventually speak of Fred, he’d never believe it. After all, less than twenty-four hours ago the teen was frolicking in flower fields while learning about flower language for Fred. The turn had been so far sharp and left that Fit was sure he had whiplash.
“Um,” Rain and crickets filled the silence between Fit’s words. “I— I’m not good in these kinds of situations, never have been. I’m just trying to help. Tubbo if you ever need to talk to someone, you can um— you can let me know.” Because what more could the older man offer the teen? The blonde-tipped boy had experienced being outed and harshly friend-zone for the first time. Fit desperately wished Pac or Philza were with him, they’d always been better at handling emotions. How could Fit offer his pseudo-son any advice when he himself struggled with the same things? God, he’s still fumbling around with Pac and he can’t even admit his own emotions. Why was he the only one around to see Tubbo’s struggles (he’d do it again, he’s chose to do it every damn time)?
“I’m good, like I said.” The young adult whispered. It felt as if he was trying to convince himself more than he was ever trying to convince Fit. And something in the bald man’s heart cracked. As long as he had known Tubbo, that was always the boy’s default response. Yet why does it feel like no one else has picked up on it? The nineteen-year-old was hiding pain and no one could care less. No one bothered to care less. It’s not even been two months since the teen has joined the island and here he is, sobbing his heart out and no one cared.
“No. You’re not good.” If anyone was going to say it, it was going to be Fit. If no one else but the Morning Crew cared, then whatever. All the bald man cared about was that someone would tell Tubbo how unhealthy his coping methods are and to offer a better alternative. All Fit truly cared about, was that his friend knew just how much he is loved. If not by Fred and the rest of the island, then by Philza and the Morning Crew. “I think this island underestimates you, Tubbo. I think everyone underestimates you.”
The teen stayed silent, letting the words sink in. Desperately, Fit begged they did. After a beat, the blonde-tipped teen turned to face his pseudo-father, eyes filled with tears as he softly asked, “Fit, is it wrong of me, to want to be selfish?”. And in an instant— as if the words uttered were too cursed —Tubbo took it back. Repeating the same phrase like a mantra, “It’s— it’s not my fault! I swear. It’s not my fault!”
The older man grabbed the teen by the shoulders— ignoring the boy’s small wince —and began to reassure the young adult. Part of Fit believed that this is what would break him. Not anything the Federation has put him through, but the fact that he’s so damn attached to his family. His family. His heart is aching for this rambunctious teen, and deep down Fit knows that despite his claims of only wanting to help Tubbo, one day they’ll all hate him. They’ll hate the bald man because of the true reason he’s on the island. Part of him, however, notes that until that day he’ll hold on tight and keep his loved ones as safe as he can. “No Tubbo, it never has been. You have every right to feel how you feel and you are not to blame. You hear me? You are not to blame, I swear it.”
Despite Fit’s desperate attempts and warm embrace, Tubbo felt entirely hollow. Even as Fit wiped his tears and whispered oh-so-gently into the younger’s ear, the nineteen-year-old couldn’t help but wonder if that sweet parentally love was never meant for him. After all, if Ramon was there, Tubbo was willing to bet that the bald man wouldn’t be with him then. It was thoughts such as those that destroyed the teen the most. The sinister part of him that knows that there’s a reason all the islanders hate him. That part of him can’t help but analyze and question if the people that seem to care only spare him conditional love.
With these thoughts, the teenager sat on the cold floor of his factory. His knees pulled up to his chin, curled in on himself for comfort. Fit promised to check on him in an hour, leaving to bring Pac and Phil so they could talk. The young adult’s tears were no more, so the sky stopped pouring. Instead of returning to it’s stereotypical sunny warmth and rainbows, it remained a dull gray. Just as Tubbo had felt. He hated himself for getting so worked up over a Federation worker. He closed his eyes, staving off any tears that threatened to form.
He needs to work on his emotions more. It’s stupid of him to let himself lose control like that. Something told him that there was a reason he felt the need to act fine. A reason to hide everything he felt behind jokes and rambling. This was it. This is why. Tubbo knew he was acting like a liability but he let his stupid feelings get in the way. Deep down, the teenager knows he couldn’t have stopped the sobs no matter how hard he threw himself into the next project. He really should focus on his projects. He needs to make himself useful after all.
As the blonde-tipped boy opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the white figure in front of him. A wide smile on the creature’s face juxtaposed the gun in it’s hands. Tubbo sighed, he knew it was a matter of time. He predicted it. There was only so long he could go, breaking all the rules without consequences. In fact, Cucurucho had perfect timing. To show up during the teen’s pity session? A part of Tubbo was glad that he wrote his will with Fit and Pac.
“You’re probably here to execute me. That or kidnap me.” The nineteen-year-old was strangely calm. He expected this, a part of him may have wanted it. He deserves it, after all. The other islanders believe so, and clearly so did Fred. “Go for it, King. I’ve got nothing else to lose.” With a mirage of bullets, Tubbo was down in seconds. In an instant, Phil, Fit, and Pac were teleporting to the boy’s base.
He was already gone.