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“All of it’s gone.” Tommy wandered the ruins of Logstedshire. His eyes welled up with tears and he punched a singular standing stripped log out of anger.
He tried not to cry, but he was doing such a shit job. Can you blame him? I think it’d be a little too hard to keep it in after punching a log really hard.
and... losing all of your hard work to a person you thought was your friend.
Can you blame him? He trusted again after swearing on his life he would never do so, ever again.
His mind was a whirlpool and his heart had already sunk. He tried to keep calm, He tried to think positive. Everything was going to be alright. He’s not gonna hit rock bottom again just because of that stupid green man.
But he’s on his knees, shaking.
He’s infuriated, he’s helpless, he’s ridden with guilt, grief and sorrow. He can’t stop losing. He can’t remember anything, not anymore. He’s trying to think back on something positive– or even negative to test his pride but No, he can’t think at all.
His mind is fogged, his dreams are blank. He can’t even reach for the pictures and the portraits in his pocket. He’s shaking. He’s hyperventilating. It hurts to think, it’s hard to breathe. Why the fuck wasn’t he getting up?
He looked up from his kneeling position, his body pleading for mercy even though his mind hadn't admitted it. “Is it even worth it? To keep on going?” he talks to the sky, tears furiously running down his cheeks. “Is it?” he dug his hands into the ground. He can’t even scream.
“Dream… he was my friend.”
No he fucking wasn’t.
“He’d come and visit me everyday”
He’d torment you, he’d tear down your barriers.
“We’d laugh and cry.”
He’d burn all the things you’ve made to fend for yourself.
“...His last words is that he’ll come and see me every week, and he’d watch–”
Tommy broke down, coughing and choking on his own tears.
“He’d watch me.”
God it sounds horrible. Letting him watch you? Like you’re his own personal freak show?
“He made sure I was okay– he–”
Tommy felt like vomiting. He wanted to get away from the idea all together. He didn’t care anymore if he couldn’t remember anything. If he forgot about Dream, then everything would be alright. Everything would be fine.
Tommy stood up, but fell against the log. “Am I any different?” he softly muttered under his breath. Life had left his eyes, and any glimmer of hope was gone. “Am I any better than him?”
He collected the remaining logs that stood from the explosion, and he went to break down some trees to make some more planks. Then, he’d stack. Over and over until he felt like he could touch the clouds. “Dream said he’d come and watch me.” he sighed shakily “Well now he won’t. Ever.”
He stood up, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. This cruel world had rendered him speechless, he can’t believe he’s got nothing cooler to say before he leaps.
“I doubt anyone would even care to visit my grave.” he tiredly says.
And it’d just be Tubbo, finding his best friend’s corpse by the ocean waves.