The horses galloped through the village, no warning to the poor villagers to had to jump and leap to get out of the way. Tommy clutched onto Techno tight, his arms around his chest and his head on the back of his shoulder.

He could see Wilbur and Tubbo ahead of them, their horse going the same speed. Tommy could feel his emotions bite and snap at him. He was petrified for Phil, excited at the prospect of being on a horse, and dejected when he thought about Karl.

He felt weak. He hated being weak. He hated the Queen. He hated this.

"Wilbur, people are coming!" Tubbo suddenly yelled, looking back. Tommy followed his gaze to see they were being trailed by knites on their own mares, the giant elegant beasts gaining on them.

An arrow grazed Tommy's shoulder, ripping his hoodie. Tommy gasped, realizing soon after that it hadn't actually made contact with his skin.

"Go! Fucking go, Techno!" He yelled. "They're aiming at us!"

Wilbur must have heart it too, because both horses picked up their pace. Tommy could feel the muscles of the animal flex as is galloped quick, the hooves tapping on the ground.

More arrows shot around them, reminding Tommy of the time they had to run away from Karl's dead body. He just hoped no one died this time.

Their aim wasn't great because they were riding horses, and the brothers were at an advantage. They raced on, slowly losing the soldiers who were on their tail. The forest was beginning to get closer, the small village starting to come to a stop.

The horses ran through the coming trees, the steering becoming harder. Techno and Wilbur managed.

They were leaving the soldiers behind. They were getting away!

Tommy smiled. They kept riding, and soon they had lost the Kingdom entirely. The horses pace slowed to a slow walk, and Tommy heard Wilbur speak.

"Is anyone hurt? Everyone's alright, correct?" He asked, concern but also a bit of triumph in his voice.

"I'm good," Tommy answered first. "Just starving and tired."

Techno nodded. "I'm not hurt. Tubbo?"

They looked at the young boy on Wilbur's back, and Tommy's stomach dropped.

His shirt was caked with blood. He saw Tubbo make an expression of holding back pain and he muttered, "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Tubbo! Why didn't you tell me?" Wilbur stopped his horse, sliding off to get a better look at Tubbo's wound. He pulled his jacket up, exposing a nasty looking injury. It was covered in blood, bruised and dirty. He had been shot by an arrow at his side.

Tommy jumped off his horse, almost falling by how careless he was being. He ran over to Tubbo, fear dropping like a rock in his stomach. "You aren't okay!" He said desperately, his eyes opened wide in fear. "Wilbur? Fix it! How do we help?"

Wilbur opened his mouth, hesitance coming over him. Techno pulled up behind him- Tommy hadn't realized he got off his horse.

"Stop the blood," he ordered. "Find something to push the wound. Does anyone have an extra piece of cloth?"

Tubbo took in a shaky breath, flinching at the crowd. "It's- it's okay," he managed, his face beginning to pale.

Tommy took his jacket off, exposing the white and red tee shirt underneath. "Here," he said, ignoring the cold nipping at his bare arms.

Techno took the jacket, pushing Wilbur out of the way. He wrapped it around Tubbo's waist, tieing the arms of the hoodie together tight.

Tubbo put his hand on Techno's shoulder. Techno picked him up like a baby, making the young boy whither in pain. He gently laid him down on the ground, nervous sweat beating at his face.

The blood was going through the heavy cloth, spreading like ink in water. Tommy could feel tears beginning to fall down his face and he leaned over his brother, falling on his knees. "It's- it's going to be okay," he said, almost stumbling over his words. "This- you'll be alright, okay, Tubbo?" He sounded like he was convincing himself instead.

Tubbo looked up at him, his brown eyes beginning to cloud over.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

"I wanna go home," Tubbo whispered, meeting his eyes. "Take me home, Tommy."

No. No. No.

"TUBBO, YOU'RE GOING TO BE OKAY!" Tommy screamed at the top of his lungs, tears falling down his face like a flood. "It's going to be alright!" He leaned down, putting his head into his chest, sobbing.

Tommy could feel the moment Tubbo exhaled for the last time, his head falling to the side, his eyes closing peacefully.

It was like he was loosing a half of himself. Gone, like dust flying in the wind. Right beneath his hands, Tommy was losing himself.

"Wake up!" He ordered, sitting up again with red cheeks and a desperate expression. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

Wilbur pulled him back. Tommy looked at his face, seeing he was also streaking tears.

"Stop, Tommy," he told him, his voice quiet. "It's over."

"It's not!" Tommy stumbled up, turning around and letting out a desprate noise that was half between a growl and a scream. He swung his arms in anger and accidentally hit a tree, sending a flare of pain that barely registered through his brain. Tommy fell to his knees, curling in on himself in pain and sorrow.

He couldn't be dead. Tubbo couldn't be dead. He couldn't be dead.

He just couldn't be dead.

Tubbo. My Tubbo, he thought, his shoudlers shaking as he stobbed into his hands and the ground.

"He can't die!" He yelled, not realizing he had spoken aloud until he did. "He- he can't-" he broke off with more tears, his eyes closed tight.

He felt a hand on his back and Tommy leaned up, looking at his brown haired brother.

But not Tubbo. Now he only had one brown haired brother.

More tears fell down his face. "Go away!" He hissed, shoving Wilbur away as he stumbled to his feet. He managed to glance at Tubbo and regretted it. He looked so peaceful.

Why did he get to be peaceful? Why was he the one who got away? Why couldn't Tommy have been saved the pain?

"We have to keep moving," Wilbur said quietly.

Tommy didn't reply, looking down at the boy who deserved the entire world. He would never hear his laugh again. Never see his disappointment. Would never hear him sing, never see him dance, never see him smile. He would never hear him sigh- hell, he would never hear his voice. He wouldn't see him fantasize over bees and flowers, beg Wilbur to sing a song, run up as Tommy's wing-man.

"We're going home," Tommy was suddenly certain. "We are going to go home. Tubbo told me to take him home."

Wilbur watched him, nodding in agreement.

"Why did he have to die? Why Tubbo?" Tommy asked, his voice cracking. More tears fell down his face, and he remembered when Tubbo had cried about Karl's death.

Why? Why? Why? Tubbo deserved it least out of everyone in the world. So why him?

The brothers packed up again. They found a way to transport Tubbo on one of the horses without hurting his body.

Pain seared through his heart anytime he even thought of Tubbo's name, bring a new current of tears. Dead. Such a rude sounding word for something people couldn't control being, like an insult.

Tommy wanted to scream, yell, fight something. He kept it in because his arm was already forming a purple bruise from hitting the tree.

He missed Tubbo. He wanted Tubbo. Tommy needed Tubbo but he was gone forever.

Tubbo wasn't coming back.

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