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Ranboo is nervous. He’s shuffling closer to the Camarvan from their bee apiary; Tubbo swears he can see the sweat dripping down the side of his face. As Ranboo gets closer to him, he can hear the small mutterings from the half ender-born, whispers of Technoblade and hostage reach his ears. Tubbo wants to groan, wants to cry and scream and shout at the sky. He’s been working on this dumb fucking festival since dawn, and he just wants to find some peace.
(Peace is gone. Peace was the bench with tommy at sunset, listening to mellohi with no fear. Peace was Wilbur ruffling his hair as he passes by Tubbo’s docks, half built but standing tall.)
Ranboo ushers him down, telling him that Technoblade has a hostage and is demanding his weapons. Tubbo is a good man (Is he? ), so he straightens his back and schools his expression.
(Arms crossed behind you lad, wouldn’t want to look unprofessional ey?).
His eyes are no longer soft nor sweet. He’s not the boy who chased after bees or spent hours upon hours on his newest building project.
He has seen war (smiles slowly slipping off of faces, blue coats stained red, a room of blackstone and obsidian, a traitor).
He has seen death (It was a lot more colorful than he had imagined. Streaks of red and blue and white, beautiful if not for the searing pain accompanied by them).
He is a president (a man in a tattered coat and beanie smiles down on him. His eyes alight with mania, tnt in his hands).
He is The President, and he needs to be there for his people (a steam pressed suit overshadows him, the scent of alcohol is heavy and lingering until suddenly there is nothing there, maybe there never was?).
His steps are heavy, weighted down by a position he didn’t ask for (didn’t want).
As he rounds the corner, Ranboo close behind, he expects to see Techno and a hostage.
He Does Not expect, to see his newly dead best friend standing with him. And it is him. It’s Tommy. Tommy who had always been there for him (Tommy who he’d exiled), Tommy who cared with his whole heart, who was bright and outgoing and reckless and angry (Tommy who was dead. He was supposed to be dead, he was- the tower, he SAW IT. How is he here? Tommy was dead was dead was DEAD).
Except he’s not.
Because he’s here.
Standing next to Technoblade (I’m sorry Tubbo, I’ll make this as colourful and painless as possible.)
Tubbo is in a box and it is yellow and black and concrete, and he can’t escape he can’t escape. But techno! Techno is there and he wouldn’t hurt him (he won’t hurt you) he wouldn’t! Techno is there and he’s pulling out his crossbow why is he pulling out his crossbow (he won’t hurt you) and he’s looking at him with pity, and Tubbo wants to cry but he is paralyzed he is frozen and suddenly…
He is back in the present and across from him stands his murderer and his best friend.
His best friend who holds a crossbow to his chest. Who screams and shouts and calls him a monster (the smell of alcohol is back and it burns his nose his throat his mouth. He can’t breathe he can’t breathe it permeates everything until his world is narrowed down to broken glass bottles, and too heavy hands pressing against his shoulders, and a festival that was a funeral, and he wants to cry and scream and sob... he doesn’t).
He wants to explain, tries to because Tommy hadn’t invited him and he had visited, he had!, but it was empty and broken and a tower had stared down at him, blocking the sun and the clouds and the sky.
Tommy never was one for listening and Tubbo is handing Technoblade a rocket launcher (his skin is melting it’s melting and he can smell his flesh burning and someone is screaming so loud that he doesn’t realize it’s him. The second hit is blissful as the flashing colors fade to black. Does Techno even remember that it took two hits?).
Connor is free and he runs off, water dripping down his clothes, potion particles in his wake. The pickaxe is next and Tommy is staring at him with cold eyes (cold but not dead) and Tubbo can’t even process that Tommy is here. And alive. And well. Before they are gone. Running back to the tundra and the snow and the ice.
Ranboo leaves too, wandering off to god knows where. Tubbo stands and he stares, and stares, and stares, and then he is on his knees, and he’s sobbing, and wailing, and he can feel his shoulders shaking.
Techno likes to compare Tommy to Theseus, the exiled hero, so is Tubbo atlas? The titan burdened by the gods to hold the weight of the sky for all of eternity. Tubbo is a kid bearing the weight of a country on his shoulders, and he is doing it alone.
Tubbo is a kid (and a monster, a president, a yes man, a tyrant, a villain).
For all that Tommy talked of exile and isolation, he has Techno now, and Phil if he assumes that it was Techno who broke Phil out.
But Tubbo, Tubbo is crying alone next to a crater (you’re the president of a crater now Tubbo. Enjoy!).
Tubbo is alone with a country just as damaged as he is. The burned and scarred president of a burned and scarred country. And he is alone.
The sole titan, forced to support its crushing weight.