The first great minor chord struck in this tragic symphony. 

      Or, Wilbur starts to fall down, down, down and starts to let go of the things he held on to. 

"I'm a mannnn, this is Tubbboooo!"

"CATCH MEEE!"

"Where would I find a fetus, Tommyinnit?"

"Tubbo, take off your shirt." "That-that's inappropriate-"

Tommy smiled in his sleep as the happy memories flashed through his mind.

But then the dream turned darker.

"This is me, Tommy."

Tubbo stood before him, glaring at him. Tommy had never seen him this angry before.

"Tubbo-"

"You know, there's a reason I choose Schlatt over you." Tubbo's voice had lost all of it's sweetness, and it had turned almost demonic.

"You're so full of yourself all the time, and then even when you're the slightest bit sad, you come whining to me. You're pathetic."

Tommy stumbled back, hurt. Tubbo's words hit him like knives.

"You put us all in danger. You were the one who wanted Schlatt back on the server. You were the one that wanted to be him so badly. You wouldn't stop nagging and nagging. It's your fault, Tommy."

Tommy wanted to sob as Tubbo stared at him with pure hate in his eyes. It was all his fault. Even his best friend blamed him.

His best friend hated him.

And then suddenly, Tubbo was on the floor, blood spreading down the front of his L'Manburg uniform. Tommy could hear Schlatt's cold laugh as a shadow enveloped his best friend's body.

"TUBBO!"

It's all your fault, Tommy.

Tommy gasped as a familiar chill ran through his body. He looked down, a gaping hole in his stomach where the arrow had dug in so long ago.

And then Tommy screamed.

---

Tommy gasped, eyes fluttering open. He breathed heavily, hands shooting to his stomach. His breathing slowed when all he felt were the old, rough bandages. Sunlight streamed in from a small crack in the ravine as Tommy tried to regain control of his breathing

"Will?" Tommy heard his scared voice echo around the vast ravine. "Will?"

"I'm right here, Toms." Wilbur peeked his head out of the small staircase they had created the day before. His eyebrows furrowed with worry when he noticed Tommy's pale features. His eyes looked glassy and distant, darting around with fright. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine." Tommy noticed the bag slung across Wilbur's shoulder. "Where- where are you going?"

"Tommy-" Wilbur looked down. "We need to go back to our houses and get materials. We left with almost nothing, so we need weapons and-" He glanced at Tommy's chapped lips and weak frame. "And we definitely need food."

"So-so this is it then. This is our new home?" Tommy looked around at the bare cavern.

"For-for now." Wilbur looked at Tommy's sad eyes. The ravine was cold and dark and silent. The only sounds were occasional squeaks from bats. There were no people chattering happily, no Tubbo making stupid jokes, no happy memories painting the walls.

This wasn't home.

Wilbur sighed. "Tommy, we're not welcome in the Dream SMP. And now we're exiled from L'Manburg. I know this place isn't the most inviting, but we need somewhere to settle down."

"We've lost everything, Wilbur." Tommy's voice cracked sadly. "We've lost Fundy and Jack and Tubbo and-"

Wilbur noticed Tommy's voice hitch at his best friend's name, tears threatening to pour out. He looked so sad and lost. Wilbur reached over, patting his shoulder gently.

"Hey- you still have me, right?" Wilbur smiled sadly. "We still have each other."

Tommy forced out a sad chuckle. "It's just us again, huh?"

"It's just you and me now, Toms."

The realization of just how alone they were sunk in. The 2 friends sat there in silence for a moment, Wilbur's arm on Tommy's shoulder.

It's just you and me.

Suddenly Wilbur stood up, determination in his eyes.

"We're going to get through this, Tommy. I know we are." He offered his hand to him. "We can't just sit here and wait forever."

Tommy took his outstretched hand, grinning. "We're going to have to really defend this fucking hole, Wilbur."

Wilbur smiled at Tommy's little grin, his brash personality slowly shining through the layers of sadness. "Well, it's our fucking hole now."

Tommy burst into laughter, his face turning red. "Geez Wilbur! I'm a minor!"

"Oh you little-" Tommy wheezed as Wilbur shook his head, unable to stop the giant smile spreading across his face.

The real Tommy was starting to come back piece by piece. It would take some time for him to mend, but for now, Tommy was happy, if only for a second.

Wilbur hoped that something wouldn't come along and break him again.

He stood up with a start, walking towards the doorway.

Tommy looked down at his wrist, to check any texts from Tubbo, but realized his communicator wasn't there.

Tommy looked around desperately for 5 minutes before sighing, following after Wilbur.

It was broken anyway.

---

Tommy rummaged through the chests in his house, throwing any spare item into his inventory. Light from the rising sun shone into his little hut. He dug his hand into an unorganized chest full of junk, feeling around. He felt his hand meet something soft and he pulled it out.

It was his old shirt and pants, crumpled and balled up. The red was slightly faded, but the memories were still there.

Tommy rubbed his thumb over the old fabric and brought it up to his nose, inhaling in. He automatically scrunched up his nose in disgust, grinning at the familiar B.O. It brought back a certain type of nostalgia. He had never thought he would have missed his old clothes. He had shed them in an instant to don the revolutionary get-up of L'Manburg.

He glanced down at his dirty uniform. He hadn't taken it off in ages, the red and blue reminding him of his friends and everything they sacrificed. It felt like a familiar friend, something he could always count on.

But now the uniform was stained with blood. The only thing it reminded him of now was the country they had failed to save and the friends that had turned on them. It didn't feel like a friend anymore. It felt like it was suffocating him.

But to take it off would mean to let go. To let go of L'Manburg. And he wasn't ready to let go yet.

Tommy sighed, stuffing the old clothes in his inventory and standing up. He would think about them later. He placed a hand on the cold smooth stone walls of his hut, remembering the day they had fought against the Dream Team. He looked over at the flat dirt he had used to cover up the various craters left by the TNT. He remembered jamming to music on his jukebox with Tubbo in the back.

Goodbye, old friend.

"You ready, Tommy?" Wilbur emerged from underneath the dirt archway, his sack of items overflowing.

"I think so."

Tommy smiled softly and patted the wall one last time before stepping out of the hut, not looking back.

---

"So I've got carrots- that should last us a few days but-"

Wilbur rummaged through his sack. He could hardly salvage a few carrots out of his chests. All of their food was in L'Manburg. He thought of Tommy slowly turning into a skeleton, his ribs sticking out of his thin body, and shuddered. The boy was already experiencing heartbreak. He couldn't take hunger pains too. He needed to protect him no matter what.

Am I being overprotective?

No, surely not, right? It was normal to want to make sure Tommy didn't get hurt. He was his right-hand man after all.

He's not a piece of glass, Wilbur. He's 16. He can take care of himself.

Wilbur was so caught up in thought, he didn't realize that Tommy had stopped abruptly as soon as they turned a corner.

"Wilbur."

"Yeah, Tommy?" Wilbur didn't look up, struggling with his tumbling items.

"There are holes in the walls." Tommy was frozen in shock. "There are holes in the walls of L'Manburg."

Wilbur's head whipped around, eyes widening as he dropped the items in his hands, the materials cascading down.

He watched as the walls of his beautiful nation were torn down block by block. He could spot Fundy's orange fur as he tore down layer after layer.

Layer after layer of the walls Wilbur had built to protect him.

Layer after layer of their work, of their sacrifice.

Layer after layer of Wilbur's trust.

Did that mean nothing to him? Did I mean nothing to him?

When you smile I am undone.

"THOSE BASTARDS! THOSE ABSOLUTE FUCKING BASTARDS!" Tommy screamed in anger as Wilbur sank to his knees, staring in horror. Tommy's face fell when he saw Jack's curly brown hair peek out of the walls, tearing them down diligently.

"J-Jack?"

Tommy could just stand there as Jack, the young boy that he had taken under his wing so long ago, tore down their work with no mercy. Tommy had taken him in and accepted him, even though others were skeptical of him at first. Tommy couldn't believe that after everything he had done, Jack's loyalties lay elsewhere.

Wilbur felt like something had torn him apart from the inside. Everything they had fought for, gone. They might as well have been tearing his heart apart.

My son.

Tommy's fists clenched. Schlatt had sent Jack and Fundy out there because he knew it would break them the most. And oh, it worked well. It worked so well. Wilbur's brown eyes were shattered, filled with tragedy, as he watched Fundy.

Look at my son.

Wilbur remembered rocking him to sleep, singing soft lullabies. He would've given his life for him.

Pride is not the word I'm looking for.

"Wilbur-" Tommy placed a hand on Wilbur's shoulder, trying to console him but not finding the words to say. Wilbur sat on his knees, broken.

And then you'll blow us all away.

"I heard there was a secret place."

Wilbur's voice cracked, and Tommy looked over at him in sadness. Singing was Wilbur's way of coping, but Tommy could tell every word was breaking him.

"Where men could go and emancipate."

Wilbur's voice trembled, but he didn't care. He needed to sing it one last time. One last time as the walls fell.

"The tyranny and the bloodlust."

Wilbur remembered the simpler times. The simpler times where Dream was the greatest threat, and he thought that Dream would be the worst thing that would happen to them. Surely, L'Manburg would never experience the same heartbreak.

Oh, how wrong he was.

"Of their rulers."

"But this place is real, you needn't fret."

Wilbur remembered sitting by the campfire in the early days, singing songs. He remembered messing around in the hot dog van, testing out weird potions. He smiled sadly, tears flooding into his eyes.

"With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret."

Tommy looked down at the mention of Tubbo's name. He remembered sitting arm and arm with him, singing this at the top of their lungs.

They were so happy.

"A very big and not blown up L'Manburg."

Tommy clenched Wilbur's shoulder, looking up at the overcast sky, orange from the sunrise slowly disappearing. He felt a cold drop of water on his cheek.

And then it started to rain.

"My L'Manburg."

Rain soaked Wilbur's curly brown hair as the clouds burst, pouring down on the 2 friends.

"My L'Manburg."

The rain poured down on the betrayers. The rain poured down on the heroes. The rain poured down on the villains.

"My L'Manburg."

Wilbur felt droplets slip down his cheeks, but they weren't from the rain. Tears dripped from his chin down to the hard wooden pathway before they mixed with rainwater and swirled down the path.

"My L'Manburg."

Wilbur's voice faded into a whisper, ending the song with a tone of defeat. They both stared ahead at the diminished walls of their country in silence as the rain poured down, Tommy's hand on Wilbur's shoulder as he slumped.

"I'm so sorry, Wilbur."

Wilbur's face darkened. "It's fine."

"But Will-"

"I'm fine, Tommy."

Wilbur stood up quickly, stuffing the items into his bag angrily. He turned away from the broken walls, turned away from Fundy.

He was dead to him now.