The halls are quiet save for the boy's shoes tapping against the concrete as he drags himself through the corridor. His eyes are dull and he wants nothing more than to keel over and fade away, to let his consciousness vanish and his body to be left to the forces of nature. He's tired, so tired of everything, so tired of living.
Was a little recuperation too much to ask for?
Tubbo blinked for a moment. "What?"
"Tommy's dead." Jack's voice was cold, dead. "Dream killed him."
Tubbo had looked down at his hands before hysterical laughter bubbled out of his throat. "O-oh."
There's a buzzing in the back of his head, a buzzing that never seems to quite leave. His head's a little fuzzy and the warmth is gradually seeping out of his body. Who was he kidding— the warmth had long left. He hadn't felt warmth ever since he died. He's been freezing ever since Schlatt won the election and he hasn't stopped shivering since.
Once, Eret had been there, with their comforting words and steady presence. Once, Jack had been there, with his loud jokes and playful arguments. Once, Fundy had been there, with his quiet presence and his knowledge of weaving flower crowns. Once, Quackity had been there, with his humor and overall joy. Once, Wilbur had been there with his guitar and soothing voice. Once, Niki had been there, with her soft hands and warm words and delicious pastries.
There were others, of course. Schlatt, Technoblade, Philza, George, Sapnap, even Dream himself. Still, he couldn't remember them all. No...he didn't want to remember them all. He didn't want to remember the people that failed him, that failed him.
He shivers. He hates them all.
It hasn't even been 24 hours.
That's the only thought that runs through his head as he stares at the sign. His blood is thrumming, his pulse is racing, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, washing out any other noise. Jack is talking some random bullshit, trying to get Sam to understand. Sam Nook was never real, was it? It was all a facade that Sam used for Tommy's benefit.
It hasn't even been 24 hours.
Jack's already claimed the hotel at his. Niki's smirking in the background and Sam looks so tired as he tries to fight against Jack, tries to keep up the Sam Nook facade for his own delusions as well as Tubbo's. He can't breathe. Why was Jack doing this? Why did Jack want to kill Tommy? How could he?
It hasn't even been 24 hours.
He doesn't hear the rest of Jack's words. He's slamming his fists into Jack's face, his chest, his stomach, legs, abdomen, anywhere that he could possibly hit. He hates him, hates this petty man that doesn't understand anything. Jack's sputtering and whimpering and yelling and sobbing but he keeps raining his fists down on Jack's body, ignoring Niki's screams and Sam's shouts.
He'll make Jack hurt, hurt him just as bad as Tommy suffered.
"Tubbo, you have to stop!"
Was that Sam? Who was Sam to tell him to stop?
"It hasn't even been 24 hours." He hisses, leaning down to meet eyes with Jack. His blue eyes are filled with fury, cold cold fury, and his horns curl around his face, his menacing aura washing down upon them. "How dare you desecrate the land of a dead man when it hasn't even been 24 hours."
Slowly, he climbs off, stamping his leg into Jack's gut, causing the latter to retch onto the floor. "Clean this up," he orders, "you fucking disgrace. You too, Nihachu. Get moving."
Niki's gaze darkens. "Tubbo, I don't know who you think you are but—"
"Did I fucking stutter?" He hates them. He'll kill them. For Tommy, he'll kill them all and make them suffer. He hates them. "Get moving. You're a waste of space to me right now."
Jack stumbles up, clinging to Niki, eyes full of anger. "You won't get away with this, Tubbo," he spits, "I'll—"
"You'll what?" He turns, eyes steely. "I'm the one with the nukes."
Jack and Niki and Sam all pale.
He watches their faces lose color and then, he smiles.
"See you all later."
The door is so close.
He stumbles over and pushes it open, catching himself from falling using the door frame, smearing crimson against the brown frame. He stands in the control room, a bitter smile on his lips. There's the panel in front of him and he traces his fingers above the controls before beginning to adjust the direction of the nukes.
He hadn't originally planned to use them; no, he never intended to use them. They were meant for an empty threat, meant to scare people from fighting against him.
Unfortunately, now, they've forced his hand. There was no other choice.
He sets the destination for both of the nukes: one for Snowchester and one for the prison. The nuke won't kill Dream, he knows that, but it can at least free Dream and let Dream get affected by the radiation. Just thinking about the suffering that Dream could possibly undergo makes him smile slightly.
He's tired. Should he sleep?
"Tommy's not coming back. Dream lied about having a book on revival."
"I already know. I knew he was bluffing. So did Toms."
His voice is quiet and resigned and his expression doesn't change when he sees everyone else's expression morph to horror and confusion. Philza moves slightly, sorrow dancing in his eyes. "Why...why did you guys let him go then? Let him live?"
"We weren't going to," he responds, clenching and unclenching his hands. "We...we...we were going to kill him. It was okay if we died so long as we took him down with us. But then...I remember Sapnap looked so heartbroken...and Sam didn't look like he wanted to have to clean up the body...so we spared him."
He brings his knees to his chests and wraps his arms around them, eyes flickering between light and dark. "We...I...Toms said that we had to take Dream down. We had to get rid of him from the equation so that nobody else died. He said that Schlatt not coming back and Ghostbur being a shell were already bad enough...he said that he didn't want anyone else to die."
Someone inhales sharply.
"Look where that got him."
His hands are trembling. He doesn't think he can do it. He wants to do it so bad so why can't he do it? Why won't his hands obey? Why won't they just listen?
Jack wears his L'manberg uniform at the funeral. He's crying and he salutes the grave. Eret's crown and cape are missing and they rest a bundle of lilies at the bottom of the tombstone. Niki's face only depicts anguish and she's whispering apologies, apologies that have split from her tongue far too late. Fundy's quiet, resigned, poised like a soldier whilst Quackity's openly sobbing. Sapnap's clutching onto George and Karl and Quackity in the back and they're doing their best to keep themselves upright. Technoblade's stone-faced but tears streak down his cheek every-so-often in the rain.
Philza's quietly hunched over, eyes shadowed by his hair as he cradles his bucket hat in his hands. Had it not been for his shaking shoulders, no one would've suspected anything. A man who lost his sons too soon.
If you asked them, they would've told you that Tubbo had been miserable that day. His expression was bitter and sorrowful and he looked lost without the blond teen at his side. His suit was drenched and yet, he looked as if it didn't bother him in the slightest. All he looked like, at that moment, was someone that wanted to die and pitch themselves off the nearest cliff.
They would say he looks tired.
When did he end up on the floor?
He bitterly laughs to himself, tears running down the sides of his face as he stares up at the ceiling. Was this how it all ends? He couldn't even push the fucking button to set the nukes off; how useless could he be?!
The blood seeped out of the wound on his side and he grinned as his hand pressed against the gaping hole, pain arching through his spine. The hallway had a trail of blood and he's sure that if someone stumbled into the main room, they would've seen the blood-stained sword that he had used to impale himself.
He doesn't really care anymore.
"I'm tired of seeing people I trust betray me and then die on me, Phil."
"...I know, Techno."
"Are you going to leave?"
"Yeah, mate. I'm not going anywhere."
He turns away from the conversation. He's already known they were immortals ages ago. Immortals that messed around with mortals were the worst.
He hates them.
His vision is going gray and his body feels limp. Still, he coughs slightly and forces his arm to move. He grins slightly and slams his fist down on the button. There's rumbling beneath the Earth and he smiles in satisfaction. He slumps to the ground, blood gushing out of his wound.