In which the fool doesn't want to be the fool anymore.

      Or, Tommyinnit rides his first emotional rollercoaster, with many more to come.

In the early light of day, when Tubbo was still snoring soundly in the cot next to him, Tommy set his feet on the cold stone ground, bandaged Tubbo's arms one last time, picked up his bow, and went to kill the president.

Tommy wanted to end it.

And he was going to do it himself.

No one else should get hurt.

Just Schlatt.

Tommy was angry.

He was angry at Schlatt, at Technoblade, at Quackity.

But don't shoot the messenger. Shoot Schlatt.

He clambered onto a small rock next to Eret's tower, his bow primed.

And he heard... yelling?

"No!" Quackity tried to grab Schlatt as he tread forward like a bull, hacking down the walls of the White House. "Stop. STOP!"

"What are you going to do about it, huh?" Schlatt spun on his heel, swinging his pickaxe dangerously. "Your opinion has meant NOTHING to me since this whole thing started!" His eyes were yellow and bloodshot. "YOU NEVER HAD CONTROL!"

"But- but this is mine! I care about this!" Tears of indignation pricked at the corner of Quackity's eyes. "I made this! You can't just take it away for no reason-"

"You know what?" Schlatt's breathing was heavy and shallow with anger. "YOU'RE THE PROBLEM! YOU'RE THE REASON THIS WHOLE GODDAMN COUNTRY LOOKS LIKE TRASH! MAYBE IF YOU HAD JUST SHUT YOUR MOUTH THIS ALL WOULD BE BETTER!"

"But- But-" Quackity felt tears threatening to spill over, and he cradled his arms, scratching them nervously, trying not to cry. He was afraid of what Schlatt would do to him if he cried, if he showed any type of weakness.

And a little part of him did agree with Schlatt a little.

Was it his fault?

Was he annoying? Was that why their friendship didn't work, why every time he tried to help Schlatt it never seemed to fix anything?

Maybe Schlatt wouldn't have started drinking if he had been a better vice president and actually helped instead of goofing his ass off.

"WHY DO I EVEN TRY WITH YOU?" Schlatt was too close to his face now, and he could smell the alcohol on his breath, a scent that seemed to linger on all of his clothes, a reminder of Schlatt. "You better be fucking glad I agreed to this, because no one else would. NO ONE ELSE WOULD EVEN FUCKING WANT YOU NEAR THEM!"

And suddenly, he was on the ground, his back hurting from the impact.

This had happened to Quackity before.

Schlatt had done this to him before.

But as he lay there, in shock from the impact, something took over him.

Schlatt took another step towards him, his hand gripped tight around the grimy pickaxe. "Get up. Now."

"Get the FUCK away from me."

Quackity's crossbow was in his hands, and they were shaking.

"I know you're not going to shoot me." Schlatt chuckled, spreading his arms out wide as he took another step forward. "You're too much of a pussy!"

"I said to get away." Quackity's legs shook underneath him as he stood up shakily, trying to keep his crossbow steady as he backed away. "Get away from me, or I will shoot."

"I know you're not going to shoot me, Quackity. You know why?"

Schlatt's speech slurred as he smiled dopily."Because you need me."

"Stop." Quackity's voice rose with newfound anger. "STOP OKAY?"

"I thought you were a great guy when I met you." Quackity couldn't hide the tremble in his words. "And you were. But this thing- whatever this thing is, man, you really got fucked up."

"You need help, Schlatt. Someone or something hurt you and fucked you up, because you need a lot of fucking help." Quackity's hand tightened around his crossbow. "But I am not I AM NOT your fucking therapist. I am not qualified. I'm sorry."

"GO AHEAD AND DO IT! YOU WON'T!" Schlatt's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. "You won't do it, Quackity, because you are a worthless piece of shit, and that's all you'll ever be."

Quackity blinked, and the tears escaped. "You're an asshole."

"Oh, look he's crying." Schlatt laughed. "GO AHEAD AND CRY QUACKITY, YOU USELESS BITCH!"

"I'm done." Quackity stepped back, tears flowing down his face. "You're an asshole. You're a piece of shit. And you can find yourself a new VP."

He turned away from Schlatt, hugging his crossbow to his chest as he started to march towards the forest.

"YEAH GO AHEAD AND LEAVE!" Schlatt jeered after him. "I NEVER WANTED YOU HERE ANYWAY!"

Schlatt's comments stung like arrows, and he broke into a run, running away, away, away.

"GOOD RIDDANCE, YOU ASSHOLE!"

Schlatt watched as Quackity vanished into the forest, his pickaxe hanging in his hand. He stayed there for a few moments, expecting Quackity to come rushing back, but nothing happened. He turned back to the White House, a newfound rage for it filling his veins. He swung his pickaxe, shattering the window. The glass shards fell to the floor like snow. He stared at it, breathing heavily.

"He'll come crawling back eventually."

He sat down in the bed of glass, waiting.

"He'll come back."

---

"Quackity?"

Quackity's crossbow whipped up as he scanned the forest through his tears. "Stand back!"

Quackity sniffed, wiping his nose as he brought the crossbow to his chest, pointing it at Tommy shakily. "Put your hands where I can see them!"

"What- What happened with you and Schlatt?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Quackity's arm tried to cover his eyes.

"I saw everything, Quackity."

Quackity looked away, lowering his crossbow.

"Are you alright?"

"I want to overthrow Schlatt."

Tommy watched as Quackity looked back at Manburg, seething with anger.

"I don't want to do this anymore. He's always undermining me. I am done with his shit."

Tommy smiled, reaching out his hand. "Welcome to the club."

Quackity took it, gripping it firmly. "I'm with you guys now."

And even as he did it, he felt a flash of guilt.

Was he doing the right thing?

He didn't know what would happen to Schlatt once he left.

What if he got worse instead of better?

As much as Schlatt treated him like shit, he still cared. For some reason, he still cared.

But he still shook Tommy's hand.

The sound of branches snapping beneath boots came up behind them, and Tommy drew his sword, suddenly on guard.

A figure in a trenchcoat emerged from the woods.

"Hello, Tommy." Wilbur giggled suddenly, in spite of himself. "I knew I'd see you here."

"Wilbur..." Quackity noticed Tommy tense up in fear.

"I have something to show you!" Wilbur grabbed Tommy's hand with happiness, like they were going to a dance, like they were going to one of the guitar shows Wilbur used to always take him to. "C'mon!"

"Where the fuck are we going?" Quackity jogged after Tommy, who stumbled after Wilbur, past the groans of zombies and rattles of skeleton bones. "Tommy, where are we going?"

The lights of Manburg appeared in the distance as they stopped in front of a huge hill.

"Tommy?"

"I found it..." Wilbur's eyes shone. "I found it!"

"Found what?" Quackity looked at Wilbur in confusion as he dug away at the hill desperately with his fingers. Tommy slowly pushed him behind him. "Wilbur? Found what?"

"Look!"

Wilbur scampered through the narrow passageway, turning back to Tommy. "C'mon! Don't be afraid!"

Tommy tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he clambered up into the stone hallway, Quackity following cautiously.

The light at the end of the tunnel showed them the horrors.

"Holy shit-"

Scribbles, scribbles of black, skidding off the sides of the stone walls, messy handwriting. Wilbur, Wilbur always wrote in straight, orderly handwriting-

"What is this!? WILBUR!? WHAT IS THIS-"

Tommy could hear Quackity's yells in the back of his mind as his eyes locked on a single name, written in capital letters, painstaking, black lines dragging off like blood.

It was his name. Next to Tubbo's.

His hands were shaking.

I heard there was a special place..

"Didn't he tell you, Big Q?"

Where men could go and emancipate..

Tommy's gaze floated over the walls, capital letters and words all over the walls, before it settled on a single, small, splintered button.

"I'm going to blow it up. All of it."

A very big and all blown up L'manburg

"And I'm going to do it now."

"NO!"

Tommy threw himself forward, pushing Wilbur away with all of his might. Wilbur stumbled into the wall.

"Woah woah woah woah-" Quackity spread his arms out.

"I finally get to do it Tommy!" Wilbur's eyes sparkled with desperation, the feeling of ending just within his grasp. "I finally get to finish what I started!"

"Wilbur, please-"

"Tommy, stop fighting. There's no point." Wilbur's leg shook beneath him as he supported himself against the wall. He was already defeated. "We'll be dead soon. It doesn't matter!"

"Why?" Tommy's heart raced as he saw the button in the corner of his vision, the red TNT like blood piled up in the corners. "Why soon? Why doesn't it matter? Why-"

"I'm going to do it, Tommy. I'm going to end it." Wilbur smiled sadly at something off in the distance, something in his own mind. "I'm going to save everyone from what I've created."

"Wilbur, you're going to hurt so many people, please-"

"I'm saving more people than I'm hurting."

Wilbur tried to push past Tommy, but to his surprise, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest.

"If you're going to do this, I'm going down with you."

Wilbur's eyes widened, the air leaving his chest.

"If you do this, I die with you."

The button was right in front of him, but Tommy was hugging his chest.

It was right there.

But he couldn't press it.

"Fuck." Wilbur's voice was shaky. "FUCK!"

He pushed away from Tommy, cradling his head in his hands. "WHY'D YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT SO FUCKING HARD MAN?"

"Because I can't let you get rid of everything you built." Tommy stood, his fists clenched at his sides.

But it's gone already.

Wilbur shook himself.

"Tommy, step aside."

"No."

The defiance seemed to shock Wilbur, and his eyes hardened.

"Tommy, step aside. That's an order."

A hint of the old Wilbur shone through, a calm and collected leader.

Tommy was shaking, but he didn't budge. His eyes pierced into Wilbur's, strong and determined and ready.

Calm and collected.

"Tommy, I said step aside."

"No."

Tommy stayed, arms held out in front of him. "Wilbur, we can still get it back. I promise. We don't have to do this-"

"Tommy, if you trusted me, you would step aside."

His words seemed to hit Tommy in the chest, his weak point exposed. He wavered a bit.

"Tommy, do you trust me?"

Wilbur's eyes pleaded with Tommy as his arms shook, trying to find a way to win. For both of them.

Please don't make me choose.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Tommy's voice was quiet and wispy. "Of course I trust you, Wilbur. I'll always trust you."

"I trust you."

Tommy closed his eyes.

And then he stepped aside.

Wilbur stepped up to the button, bringing his hand closer to it.

He looked at Tommy, his hands in the air, waiting, trusting. Tall and determined.

Responsible.

Do I have time to hope?

Wilbur tore his eyes away.

And then he ripped the button out of the wall.

"I'll listen to you, Tommy." Wilbur's fingers gripped around the rough wood. "Let's do your plan. I'm going to follow you."

Tommy almost collapsed in relief as Quackity smiled at him, shoulders untensing.

"Thank you, Wilbur." Tommy grinned, the knot in the bottom of his stomach prying apart. "I won't let you down."

We can go back to being normal now.

"You guys go ahead, I'll meet you back at home."

"Yeah. Home." Tommy smiled happily at him, savoring the word in his mouth. "I'll see you at home."

And they left. And Wilbur was alone.

The air left the room as the entrance was closed off.

The button was clutched in his hand, making an imprint in his palm.

"Why is it so hard to let go? Why is it so hard to let go of it?"

Wilbur sucked in a breath, shards from his heart clogging up his throat.

"I know I can't bring it back, but I'm still holding on." Wilbur looked at his meaningless scrawls on the walls, trying to convince himself not to press it.

He knew it from the minute that Schlatt had stood on that goddamn podium that it would never be the same again, that he couldn't bring it back, that it was falling, falling, falling so far from what he had started.

"It's over."

With shaky hands, he placed the button back in its place. It hung there in the silence.

"I'm finished. I need to take my final bow. I need to close the curtains before the show spirals out of control."

But then he clutched his stomach again as he saw Tommy's sparkling blue eyes, filled with joy as they built the walls.

"But I'll keep pretending."

And Wilbur turned on his heel, forcing himself out, out, away, trying to convince himself that the show could still go on.

---

Techno watched the movement of Tubbo's bandaged chest as it moved up and down, up and down with a damaged rattle.

He looked so small, so tiny, swallowed in the blankets a top of his cot.

Techno gripped the stone doorway.

He felt guilty.

Was Dream right?

Was he really just in it for the violence? To fight for things?

Was he a monster?

No.

Dream was wrong.

He didn't want to kill people.

Did he?

If he wanted to kill people, why did he feel guilty about killing this kid?

No, he didn't want to kill people.

He wanted to kill power.

Power had killed his parents.

Power had made him leave Phil.

He wasn't going to fall for power again.

No, he didn't want to kill people.

He just panicked.

And no one was there to help him.

Was that his fault?

He wasn't a monster.

Or was he?

"HEY!"

Techno jolted, turning to see Tommy standing angrily behind him.

"I told you to stay away from him!"

"Tommy, I'm not going to hurt him-"

"I SAID TO GET AWAY!"

Techno could see the pain in Tommy's eyes. "Just get away, ok?"

"Tommy-"

"The only thing you do is hurt people, Technoblade."

Tommy shoved his way past him. "Just stay away from us."

"I don't need you anymore."

And the door slammed shut in Techno's face.

"I just really wanted someone that wouldn't hurt me."

"Then why'd you use me as a weapon?" 

---

Don't worry, I'm going to end it soon.