Tommy stares at the table, fiddling the cloth beneath his thumb and index finger back and forth. Back and forth.
“Ah ah, Micheal put that down please,” Tubbo chides the toddler.
Tommy looks up to see Micheal aiming a carrot towards him, eyes wide and innocent with childlike mischief, and his mouth tugs into a rueful smile.
Micheal chucks the carrot at him.
“ Micheal, behave,” Ranboo sighs.
Tommy lets the carrot roll off of him and onto the floor. “Don’t worry about it, big man,” He chuckles.
“He’s been throwing food more often these days, did you teach him that?” Tubbo squints at his husband.
Ranboo raises an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t that be, like, something you would do?”
Tubbo frowns, “But I didn’t teach him that.”
Ranboo rolls his eyes, smiling, “Mhm.”
“You don’t believe me,” Tubbo pouts.
“No, honey, of course I do,” Ranboo says sarcastically.
Tubbo crosses his arms, “If anything, Tommy would have taught him it.”
Tommy squawks, offended, “Don’t go pinning the blame on me!”
“Micheal! Come back here!” Ranboo shouts, running after the piglin.
Micheal giggles, sprinting down the hill.
Tommy huffs as he runs after the kid, he’s the closest within reach.
“Micheal!” Tubbo screeches.
Micheal turns around mid-motion to stick his tongue out to his parents. Tommy grins, this kid is a legend.
Then the toddler trips and Tommy’s grin freezes.
Micheal lets out a gasp of fear, eyes widening in terror as he tumbles backwards.
Before he can think about it, he’s diving after the child and hugging him to his chest as they roll down the hill.
They come to an abrupt halt as Tommy’s back hits a tree, Micheal letting out a whimper as he looks up at the teenager, chubby fingers fisting his t-shirt.
Tommy heaves a breath of relief, chest stuttering. “Be careful,” He sighs, cradling the boy’s head to his chest.
Ranboo and Tubbo come sprinting after them. “Micheal, Micheal! Never do that again, oh my god, oh my god,” Ranboo pants, pulling the child from Tommy’s arms.
“Are you okay, are you hurt? Show me where you’re hurt,” Tubbo worries over Ranboo’s shoulder.
Micheal shakes his head, glancing back over at Tommy.
“Tommy,” He says.
Tubbo and Ranboo stare at him. “Tommy?” Tubbo questions. Micheal nods.
“You alright Tubs?” Tommy questions as he watches his best friend frown over his compass.
Tubbo is silent, turning the compass over in his hand, thumb running over the smooth glass. “Did it have to be this way?”
Tommy shrugs, “I’m not sure.”
Tubbo sighs, fingers clenching over the object. “No use thinking about it now right?”
Tommy nods, “No use.”
“Bee? Have you seen my crown?” Ranboo calls out.
Tommy presses a finger to his lips as he kneels before Micheal. The toddler giggles quietly, mimicking the action.
“Tubbo? Dude?” Ranboo tries again.
“Don’t call me dude, dude,” Tubbo replies from the living room.
“Have you seen my crown? Y’know, the one that I wear, like, all the time?”
“Have you checked your head?”
“ Yes, I’ve checked my head.”
Micheal giggles, crown tilting to cover his eyes. Tommy snickers, shushing him. He straightens out the crown, gently patting the boy’s ears.
“King Micheal, you must be quiet,” Tommy chides with a grin.
Micheal nods repeatedly, crown drooping again.
“King Micheal, you must wear your crown properly or else you’re not poggers,” Tommy tuts.
Micheal lets out a loud squeal of laughter.
They both freeze.
They look up wide eyed as the cupboard door is abruptly opened, revealing a confused Ranboo.
“Micheal, why are you wearing my crown?”
Micheal, like the little snitch he is, immediately points to Tommy.
“Tommy,” He says, smiling up at his father.
Tommy studies the photos before him lined along the wall.
Ranboo, Tubbo and Micheal, all posed together. They look sickeningly sweet.
He presses a finger to Tubbo’s smile, “You’re moving so fast,” He whispers.
Tommy always thought he was the one, the one who was a step ahead at all times. Tubbo was always trailing a little behind in his mind. Tommy was the adventurer, the hero. Tubbo, his best friend, his sidekick.
He looks over at Ranboo and Micheal’s identical smiles.
Maybe he’s the one who was left behind.
Tommy peaks into the study room, to see Ranboo tracing his fingers over a familiar book.
He walks over slowly to the teenager, resting on the edge of the chair to glance over his shoulder. “The good ole’ memory book huh?” He hums, “Fitting for you, memory boy.”
Ranboo leans back against the chair, huffing. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Tommy curiously reads the diary entry.
Well. Those sure are some memories.
“I remember when you wrote to me,” He says.
Ranboo looks up at the ceiling, “Did I do enough? Could I have prevented all of it?”
Tommy shakes his head, “You couldn’t have, it’s ok,” He tells him but Ranboo continues.
“I’m sorry,” The enderman tells him.
Tommy smiles, a little sadly, “I know.”
“Micheal, please stop saying that,” Ranboo sighs, exhausted.
“Pogchamp!” Micheal grins.
“Say it again,” Tommy grins.
“You’re so good, Micheal, you’re so good,” Tommy praises, patting the boy’s head.
“You’re taking after Tommy, this is a nightmare,” Tubbo groans, but there is a fondness to his voice that he’s unable to hide. He can see it in the way his scowls tugs into a reluctant grin.
“Pogchamp!” Micheal claps his hands together happily.
“Geez, the wedding is soon,” Tubbo hisses as he checks over the planning list. “Haven’t even ordered the cakes yet. I wonder if they’d let bees into the chapel?”
Tommy whistles, “Better get a move on then, big crime.”
Tubbo snorts, “Can’t believe we’re doing a second one.”
Tommy sniffs, “Well, I wasn’t there for the first. It’s only fair,” He huffs before adding, “Plus… you guys deserve a proper wedding, with your friends and shit.”
Tubbo smiles, “I have a good feeling about this. Maybe this will be the one event that works out huh?”
Tommy smiles, “I’ll make sure of it Tub.”
Tommy glances over the living room wall, only to pause and squint.
He takes a step closer and almost gasps.
There, in the centre of the wall, in the centre of the family photos. Is a photo of him and Tubbo, grinning ear to ear, matching scarfs around their necks.
He traces his fingers over it lightly, marvelling.
He glances over his shoulder to see Tubbo walking out of the kitchen. The boy stops to stand next to him, smiling at the picture.
“I knew there was something missing,” Tubbo grins, “Now it’s complete,” He says.
Tommy doesn’t think he could stop tears if he wanted to.
“Micheal?” Tommy calls, searching the halls. He cups his hands over his mouth before calling out again, “Micheal?”
He hears a small whimper and pauses in his tracks.
Where’s that little piggy hidden?
He darts into a darkened room, squinting in the dimness to see a small shaking form by a grand piano.
“Micheal? What the fu- uh, what the hell are you doing in here?” He questions, making his way towards the child.
Micheal lets out a sob. “M’scared.”
Tommy frowns, kneeling down beside the boy and throwing an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close.
“Why’re you scared?”
Tommy resists a snort. “You sound like Technoblade. What’s wrong with people?”
“Too much people?”
Tommy hums in thought, “So you’re scared because there are too many people outside?”
The boy nods again.
“But who is going to carry the flowers for your dads?”
Micheal shrugs, “Don’t care.”
Tommy barks out a laugh, “Yes you do.”
“You carry em’.”
Tommy sighs, “Wish I could,” He scowls before smiling, “But unfortunately, it’s your job. You can do it.”
“You can. Believe me. Trust uncle Tommy, I am pog and the best and therefore my opinion is the only opinion.”
Micheal stares up at him.
“ Trust me, kid. I promise, I won’t let anyone bully you, or - or be mean to you, or hurt you ever. I will always protect you Micheal,” He promises.
“Really?” The boy whispers.
Tommy nods, holding out his finger. “Pinky promise?”
Micheal links his tiny finger, “Promise.”
Tommy grins, “Okay, now c’mon big man, we’re like twenty minutes late,” He laughs.
Micheal stumbles, little legs tripping over each other as he carries a basket of flowers down the isle.
Tommy watches him in amusement. He glances over to his right, Tubbo standing by his side - fidgeting nervously.
Tommy grabs his hand. “You’ve got this big man,” He grins.
Tubbo inhales sharply, clasping his hand over Tommy’s. “I’ve - I’ve got this.”
The chapel falls slilent as Ranboo walks. Tommy can’t deny that he looks good. He can grudgingly admit that the guy cleans up well.
He can see the nervousness, clear as day, in the heterochromic eyes.
He sees the way his expression brightens at the sight of Micheal, at the sight of Tubbo.
Tommy doesn’t know when he became fond of Ranboo.
He watches as Ranboo walks up to Tubbo, watches as they exchange vows and laugh giddily when their rings glint in the light - fingers interlocked with each other. He watches as they embrace Micheal together, peppering their son with kisses.
“Ah,” He whispers, brushing the pad of his thumb underneath his eye, catching a tear that wasn’t meant to fall. He smiles. And smiles some more. The tears come one after another until they are pouring. “It seems, I’m no longer needed,” He grins.
He watches the family, watches them embrace and hold and love each other and thinks that maybe this is okay.
And slowly, slowly, he fades.