In which Wilbur lets go of the last things keeping him sane, and lets himself fall, dragging Tommy down with him.

      Or, Tommy clings on to something that Wilbur lets go of.

Wilbur tore through his large brown sack, scouring, searching like an addict for gunpowder, for sand. He had TNT, but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

He searched, adding red to the ever-growing pile, more, more, more.

He needed more.

Suddenly his hand flashed with cold as it collided with a ceramic mug. His eyes widened.

Dad!

He gasped, breath filling his lungs cold and sharp.

Hey, Dad!

The mug shook in his hand as he stared at it.

"What am I doing?" Tears gathered in his eyes as the angry high stopped, leaving him tired.

He sunk to the cold stone floor, cradling the mug in his hands.

"What am I doing?"

He looked at the pile of red, overtaking everything. He suddenly was scared of it, his breathing small and shallow. His mind cleared for a second, leaving everything shaky and dangerous.

"What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing-"

He was nothing to me

The dark words flashed across his mind, echoing in his brain. He pounded his skull, trying to get them out, but they became louder and louder and louder.

"NO!"

The static blared in his head, ringing out, breaking his brain.

You were nothing to me.

"NO!"

A loud crash filled the air, silencing the ringing in his brain.

Ceramic pieces scattered around, sharp and deadly.

"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME!"

He shouted at the shards, tears stinging in his eyes.

"You don't have to worry about getting rid of me. Everyone can leave me, everyone already has. Everyone leaves in the end."

Wilbur stood up, his vision hazy and red. He gathered the TNT in his arms, setting off, his boots thumping against the ground.

"Once I'm done, everything will be gone."

"If I can't have you no one can."

---

Tubbo felt the soft wool in his hands as he placed it down gently, smiling softly. His bee meandered next to him, sniffing the flowers he had placed down.

He enjoyed decorating.

The colors clashed together pleasantly as he hung them up, his hard work finally hung up and done.

He enjoyed building.

He didn't quite know why, but he liked it.

Maybe it was because it was one of the few memories that wasn't tied at the neck to Schlatt.

He didn't like destroying though.

He hated destroying.

He could pretend he was helping something good!

Like building a nice town, or a city for Tommy and Wilbur and him to live in.

And Wilbur would be back to normal, of course.

And maybe Quackity and Fundy if they would let him. They deserved to be away from Schlatt too.

He could pretend that it all wasn't in danger of being blown up. He could get rid of the butterflies that scratched and clawed at his stomach, desperate to get out.

Close your eyes, and you can see a happy ending.

Tubbo smiled, breathing in the soft breeze.

Keep on smiling, it'll all be over soon.

"Tubbo!"

Tubbo jolted a little at the familiar voice, coaxing the little bee into his sleeve quickly. He turned around, smiling. "Hey, Wilbur!"

He looked up into Wilbur's eyes apprehensively. They were glowing and shattered, boring into him.

It was worse than Tommy had said.

Tommy wasn't scared a lot. Tommy wasn't even scared of his own death.

But Tubbo could tell he was scared now, though.

Because this was so much worse than death.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"I-I've done a bad thing, Tubbo." Wilbur tilted his head joltingly around, his eyes going to the ground, and then to the tree, and then to the podium. "I've done a very bad thing."

"W-What did you do?" Tubbo smiled wanly at him, trying to pretend. For Wilbur, or for himself, he didn't know.

But he knew what Wilbur was going to say.

"I-I-" Wilbur suddenly giggled like a schoolchild who had done a silly prank. His voice dropped to a whisper as he grinned at Tubbo. "I put TNT EVERYWHERE."

He let out an uncontrollable laugh. "It's EVERYWHERE! I put it everywhere- The TNT is ready, it's ready, it's ready, it's ready."

"It.... is." Tubbo's heart dropped, and he couldn't look at Wilbur anymore. "You- you really are gonna blow it up."

This was going to break Tommy.

"Oh, but I feel bad, Tubbo, I feel bad." Wilbur's spirits fell as soon as they were raised, rapidly swinging. He tapped his fingers on his chin repeatedly. "You're a good kid, Tubbo, you're a good kid...."

"But you do agree with me, right?" Wilbur paced around, Tubbo jolting at his every movement. "Well, no, you don't. Well, maybe you do....."

"Have you talked to Tommy?" Wilbur spun, advancing towards Tubbo. His stomach dropped with fear.

"No."

The lie slipped out like a snake, entwining around Tubbo's steady heart.

"I haven't."

"Don't talk to Tommy."

Tubbo hesitated, making Wilbur grab him by his shoulders, shaking him. "Listen to me. Whatever you do, don't talk to Tommy. Got it?"

"Yes, Wilbur."

Tubbo's smile cracked across his face as he forced the innocence that was no longer there into his eyes.

"So you're on board then. Good, good, good...." Wilbur pushed away, pacing around with paranoia again as he muttered. "If you join, Tommy joins. Tommy doesn't care about me, only about Tubbo, never me, they all leave, they all leave....."

Tubbo's stomach turned inside out and upside down as he watched Wilbur slowly tear at chunks of his hair, devolving himself more and more. It made Tubbo want to crawl out of his skin, to run away.

And oh, the idea of running away with Tommy coursed through his mind.

But no. He had to make things better. Not just for himself, but for his nation.

Just get through this, and it's going to be alright.

"Yes, Wilbur. I'm on board."

"Good kid, good kid." Wilbur reached out, ruffling Tubbo's hair roughly. "You'll always be a yes man. A great place to put problems."

"Yes, Wilbur." Tubbo's fake smile never wavered.

"I always am, aren't I?"

---

"Why you looking so down, Tubbster?"

Tubbo looked up from his stoop on top of the White House, Quackity grinning towards him, guitar strapped around his waist.

He smiled at him. "It's nothing, Big Q. Just thinking of stuff for the festival, that's all."

"That's good." Quackity sat down next to him, sighing. "I wish I was as happy as you."

Me too.

"What's wrong, Big Q?" Tubbo turned to him, diverting his attention to someone else again.

"Schlatt." Quackity fiddled with his guitar absentmindedly. "He- he's so broken one moment, and I want to help him, and then he does fucked up shit to me and it..... hurts."

The sting of Schlatt's latest outburst was still fresh in his mind. "And then he blames it on his problems that I don't even know how to fix."

A great place to put problems.

And now Tubbo felt even worse.

And then he felt worse about feeling worse.

He should be there for people.

But he couldn't help that problems fell on his lungs like snow, and he was always trying to make room for new ones.

"But I think he's doing the right thing. I want to think I'm doing the right thing." Quackity looked at Tubbo, longing for validation in his eyes.

"Am I doing the right thing, Tubbo?"

No.

Tubbo hated doing this. More snakes weighed down on his heart.

But he told him what he wanted to hear.

"Yes." Tubbo tried to smile the same smile that he used to have. "Yes, of course. You're doing the right thing."

"Phew!" Quackity let out a breath that he had been holding for a while. "That's good. You excited for the festival?"

"Yes." Tubbo looked away from him, guilt ripping at his stomach.

"It's going to be great."

Always a yes man.

---

Tommy felt numb.

He slumped over on the bench, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly.

He had tried to go back to Pogtopia, but Wilbur was there.

And he was even worse.

He left as soon as he came, hiding in the forests.

The worst thing was, Techno was helping Wilbur.

Was he just wrong?

Techno was helping Wilbur, said that it was for the best.

Was he just wrong? Should he be agreeing with Wilbur?

He turned as he saw Tubbo stumble towards him, slumping down next to him.

Suddenly he turned, hugging Tommy's arm tightly, clinging on to it.

And this time, Tommy didn't push him away.

"Rough day?"

"Yeah."

Tubbo hugged his arm tighter, burying his face into it.

"Want to talk to about it?"

"No."

Tubbo didn't want to talk about it.

People had talked about their rough days to him all day.

And it was suffocating.

He would much rather hug Tommy's arm, and pretend everything was fine.

But that was fine.

Because Tommy understood.

"That's fine."

A bee floated by, trying to hide from the cold. It buzzed near Tubbo's face happily before floating away again. A whiff, the last piece of sunshine floated by, before leaving them again.

It was cold.

"I miss summer."

"Me too."

Fear filled Tommy's stomach suddenly."Hey Tubbo?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be here forever, right?"

"Of course." Tubbo smiled at him. "Till my bones are in the ground, Tommy."

"Till my bones are in the ground."