A/N Hey, hey, hey! Quick shoutout to {VintageBee} for ordering this! Remember, you can always submit requests with suggestions and everything! I hope this was up to your satisfaction uwu!

(originally published before October 29th, 2020: This is really cringy, most of the beginning ones are cringy lolll. As you get more recent it gets less cringy.

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"You're always yelling at me, telling me what to do, you're always thinking that YOU'RE the smarter one, that I'm just your petty little servant, that I mean nothing to you-"

"Tubbo, shut up!"

"I hate you so much," Tubbo's eyes filled with tears of rage, "you always take advantage of me, don't you? You think I'm your pet!"

Tommy glared at him, "Tubbo, I'm warning you one last time..."

"I DON'T CARE!" Tubbo screamed at him. The tears dropped onto his chest, "I HATE YOU! I- I don't think we should be friends anymore!"

There was a moment of silence as the two friends stared at each other, registering what Tubbo had said. He felt a twinge of guilt, but that was no matter. Tommy was no longer his friend. He hated him, and Tommy would hate him too.

Tommy's vivid blue eyes became dangerous. He stepped closer to Tubbo, seething, "say that one more time."

"I don't think we should be friends anymore," Tubbo said in one breath. His voice held so much finality that an outsider would think that they really were enemies. He stated it like a fact, like it was true.

"I told you, you will always be my friend," Tommy hissed.

"As in your servant?!" Tubbo exploded, "you arrogant, hateful-"

Suddenly Tommy brought up his hand and it slapped Tubbo's cheek, creating a sudden explosion of pain. It didn't really hurt very much physically, but at that moment, Tubbo knew. 

The wound hurt so much, not because someone had hit him, but Tommy had hit him. He grimaced and turned around, away from Tommy, tears spilling out of his eyes, "I get it," he murmured, walking away.

"Hey!" Wilbur came, with his confident smile, "it's time. We're going to fight-" Wilbur blinked in shock as he saw the two former friends, and immediately understood. He sighed, "you guys can make up later. Come on. We won't get another chance."

Tubbo nodded and turned to WIlbur, not meeting Tommy's gaze, "let's go," he said bitterly.

"Let's get back L'manberg," he heard Tommy say in a biting tone.

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The crew climbed up bits of debris, all of them injured in some way. They turned to meet the faces of the Manbergians, facing Schlatt.

The president smirked, "I see you have come all this way to die."

"I'm willing to die for L'manberg," Tommy spat. But the fire in his eyes was long gone, extinguished by the loss of Tubbo as his right-hand-man.

"Let's test that, shall we?" he motioned to his soldiers, who snickered, "attack!"

The Pogtopians immediately pulled out our swords as the Manbergians advanced, shooting arrows at them. Tubbo breathed hard. He didn't know what to do - what if he died today? What if Wilbur got hurt?

He couldn't bring himself to think about Tommy. He was dead to him.

"Hya!" Tubbo screeched as his sword impaled yet another warrior. They were coming in hordes, threatening him with their huge numbers. But Tubbo wasn't daunted. He was fighting for his land. The land that they had fought for and lost, and now they were fighting for it again.

"Tubbo, look out!!!"

Tubbo turned around to see Tommy behind him, deflecting an arrow with his shield. Tubbo caught his gaze for a moment before looking away. Tommy had no right to act like he was still his friend.

But yet, if he hadn't saved him, Tubbo would be dead.

Why were emotions so complicated?

For another few minutes, the fought, killing more and more incompetent soliders of Schlatt, before Schlatt himself growled and ran towards them, holding his shield yet ready to strike.

No, Schlatt was not running towards them. He was running towards Tommy.

Tubbo looked away as he blocked a axe blow from one of the last remaining Manbergians. He didn't care. Tommy could take care of himself.

Could he?

Tubbo expertly blocked the man's blows and stabbed him in the chest, killing him. He looked up, looking for more of Schlatts men, before hearing Wilbur's scream.

"TOMMY!"

Tubbo whirled around to see Tommy slump to the floor with a large gash on his head, tainting his blonde hair with violent red blood. Tubbo's eyes widened.

"Tommy?" he rushed towards him just as Wilbur charged at Schlatt, who had retreated after striking Tommy. Wilbur would ditstract him, so he had to be the one who tended to Tommy's wounds, like it or not...

Tommy glanced at him before looking back down, grimacing in pain, "let's just get this over with," said he.

Tubbo nodded sullenly,unraveled his roll of bandages, and cleansed the wound with alcohol. As long as Tommy didn't try to speak to him, it was fine.

Then Tommy spoke to him.

"Tubbo... I'm so sorry for hitting you earlier," Tommy said softly, trying to sit up but failing.

Tubbo didn't reply, instead focusing on bandaging the wound.

"Tubs... You're my best friend. I shouldn't have yelled at you," Tommy chuckled, but blood spurted out of his mouth. Tubbo gasped in alarm, "y-you know me. I'm impulsive sometimes. That's just how I roll."

"Just because it's how you 'roll', doesn't mean you get to treat me like dirt," Tubbo spat, tying the bandage up.

"I- I didn't mean to treat you like that."

Tubbo looked away, fuming. How dare he? "you can die for all I care. Let Wilbur cry his heart out. I won't be attending your funeral."

Tommy stared at him, his eyebrows furrowing in worry, "Tubs..."

"DON'T CALL ME TUBS!" Tubbo stood up, about to dash away, but something pulled him back. It was like magic, it pushed him to stay with Tommy for a little while.

"Tubbo... W-would it make you happy if I died?"

Tubbo blinked back his tears, "w-what?"

Tommy's blue eyes were now pleading with him, "T-tubbo?"

"Yes, it would. I- you deserve it," Tubbo forced himself to say. But did he really? Somewhere inside him felt remorse, wanting to forgive his best friend.

"O-okay... Tubbo- I..." Tommy took a deep breath, then moved his arm to show a nasty wound in his stomach, filling with dark red blood and staining his white shirt.

Tubbo's eyes widened as he examined the wound, "Tommy..."

"You don't have to fix it," Tommy said quickly, biting his lip, "I understand."

"Tommy... That's fatal," he whispered, "why didn't you show me that before? I could help-"

"Tubs- I mean, Tubbo, you don't have to," Tommy said quietly. It was like he had already accepted it, "it's fine. If it makes you happy, I can make it go quicker-"

Tommy fumbled with his sword, aiming it at his heart with a pained grin.

"What- no, no, don't do that. Put that down! We can go back to Pogtopia, I can... I can..." Tubbo trailed off, seeing how deep the wound actually was. He knew it was hopeless.

Tommy gave him a small smile, "Tubs... I'm sorry. I really am. You don't have to forgive me. But... I forgive you."

Tubbo examined his best friend; his former friend, before shaking his head, "no, no, no, we're going back. You're not going to die."

"I'm dying, Tubs..."

"No you're not!" Tubbo insisted, more desperate than ever, "I-I'll stop the bleeding. Hold my sword for me?"

Tommy took his sword hesitantly, still staring at Tubbo sadly.

Tubbo felt tears trying to burst out, but he held them in, not wanting Tommy to see his distress at his wound, "you're going to be fine! Right, Tommy? Y-you've been through worse..."

"I love you Tubbo," Tommy said, tears already dripping down his cheeks. He wore such a pained, forced smile that Tubbo almost broke down. The sword clattered from his hands as more blood came from his mouth, "you're my best friend, I hope you know that... I'm sorry..."

Tubbo didn't answer, still at work. He knew it was hopeless. The sword had sliced so deep that it had hit Tommy's ribs. It was a miracle that Tommy had survived this long. But he couldn't let go. Not now. Not here.

He glanced back at Tommy, who was still smiling. Their eyes met, but there was something wrong. Tommy's eyes were slowly dulling, his blue sapphire eyes turning into a colorless shade of grey...

Suddenly he felt Tommy go limp. Panic consumed him, and he shook Tommy wildly.

"Hey, hey! Wake up! I know you're tired, but it's making me think you're dead-"

Tubbo glanced at his chest, which was now still, "Tommy, stop playing games with me. You're not dead... You can't be..."

Tubbo shook Tommy's shoulders, but he didn't respond. Dread filled him, "T-tommy this isn't funny, come on..."

He felt the tears coming back again, and this time he couldn't hold them. They spilled out, flooding his face and some dripping onto Tommy's limp body, "Tommy!"

He shook his head wildly. Tommy wasn't dead. He wasn't. H-he was lying to him, again. This time making him think he was dead, making him think he wasn't coming back, "TOMMY!"

He stopped for a long moment, conflicting emotions swirling in him. Tubbo sobbed into Tommy's still chest, "TOMMY! No- NO! WAKE UP! NO- no..."

"TOMMY!"

The brown-haired boy picked his head up, tears still running down his pain-stricken face, "T-tommy?"

He wasn't waking up.

Tubbo sat there for a long moment, the tears falling as fast as a bee could fly. He was gone.

His best friend was gone.

Tubbo made some kind of small, whining noise, like a dog that had been abandoned by his owner. In this case, Tubbo was still Tommy's pet... But he didn't care.

The boy said his name one more time, a small, frightened voice that pleaded with his friend to just wake up, to just stay with with him. It was so small, so weak, that it sounded like it was from a little boy. Yet it sounded like it was from a soldier who had just lost a war, losing everything he had fought for. It was a single word spoken with so much emotion, so much pain, that it could have broken even the strongest of men. It cracked at the middle, interuppted by yet another sob of this boy who had lost his closest friend.

"ᵀᵒᵐᵐʸ?"

He had gone too soon. He was only sixteen, a bright young boy full of passion and kindness, who always fought for what he thought was right. He was a good boy, a loud and brilliant friend.

"Tubbo, we won! Schlatt is dead, I killed him, we could-" Wilbur dashed over, his face falling as he saw Tommy on the ground, "w-what happened?"

"H-he's gone, Wilbur," Tubbo sobbed, "h-he... He's gone."

Wilbur went silent, mulling over Tubbo's words.

"No... He can't be..."

"He is..." Tubbo wiped another tear, but more just kept coming, "he's gone... A-and it's my fault..."

Wilbur sighed, his own breath shaking, "Tubbo... I'm so sorry. I know how much he meant to you-" he never got to finish the sentence, because he, too, broke down in tears.

"I-I never got to apologize to him," Tubbo choked on his own tears, "I didn't even get to forgive him..."

"Tubbo, it's okay-"

"I-I even said that I'd be happy if he died!" Tubbo collapsed onto Tommy, hugging the corpse that laid so limp on the floor, "he thought... He thought I hated him..."

"He wouldn't think that..."

"Yes. I-I told him myself. I shouldn't have - he even tried to kill himself quicker, Wilbur!" Tubbo screamed, the tears dropping onto Tommy's cheeks, "I'm so sorry... Tommy, I'm sorry..."

His friend was dead.

Tommy was dead.

It had been so quick... So unexpected...

Tubbo hated himself for ever fighting with him, for ever yelling at him. He was dead, thinking that Tubbo hated him. He was dead, thinking that Tubbo would never forgive him, thinking that Tubbo was happy that he was dead... He died thinking that Tubbo was no longer his friend. Tubbo hated himself for that. He hated that he had let him die, that he didn't do anything to stop this.

Because Tommyinnit was dead.

And Tubbo was nothing without him.