I'm Sorry, Kid ~ Dadschlatt AU

{12}

Days passed, and before anybody knew it festival day had fast approached. All of Tubbo's planning (with the small help of Manburg's citizens and of course Jschlatt) would come together, lifting the spirits of the public.

That morning Tubbo had arrived to work extra early to allow himself extra time for final detailing.

His walk was pleasant, much more than usual. The usually rather dull buildings brightened by the bunting, the bright colours a stark difference. Blues, yellows, reds, greens; all strung together on white strings, placed carefully along building fronts. Stands had gone up, games and mini stores - such as Niki's pop-up bakery, for instance.

Tubbo always loved that time of year, when the sun was out and the plants alive, when the bees would seemingly float along with the early-summer breeze. In his mind this was the perfect time for the festival, and somehow Schlatt seemed to know that.

The child hobbled along the soft grassy lawn, taking new steps toward his father for the first time. The sun was beaming down, and Tubbo clearly had a curious mind; he wanted to explore the world around him, and he had the independence to try, without the aid of another being. Kid's real early, Schlatt thought to himself. Not even six months old, and already taking those steps...he's gonna do big things some day. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. A real, true, sweet smile, a smile only present when he was with this child of his.

"Go on, you're so close!" the man yells. It's a joyful yell.

For once, Jason Schlatt is happy.

The child's face suddently hit the ground when he was just yards away from his dad, having messed up the rhymic steps he was presenting. Schlatt moves at a pace slightly faster than his usual stroll to check on the child.

Small, salty tears spilled from baby Tubbo's eyes, the fall having some sort of impact on him. In all fairness it did look like it was a powerful fall.

Schlatt scooped up the child in his arms, cradling him to peace. "Enough for today, I think." He carried Tubbo inside, placing him on the couch, surrounding him with pillows. Hopefully he would sleep...

And soon enough he did. The heat mixed with all the energy used to take those steps today had tired the nearly-6-months-old son of Schlatt's completely.

Jason sighs as he looks around the place - empty bottles, money and food litter the kitchen, the dump slowly seeming to seep into the living area.

"No one should live like this," he told himself quietly. "Except for people like me, I deserve this shit....but most people shouldn't. Especially not a fucking kid."

It was later that same night the letter to his son was written. Those first steps Tubbo took with his biological father would, unpredictably, be his last for a long, long time.

Schlatt's right-hand man opened the office doors, a smile upon his face. "Schlatt!!" he exclaimed happily.

"Hey, kid! Nice work, you know, with the festival and all that." Jason seemed distracted, staring out of the window and over the country he owned. Tubbo, somewhat cautiously, took place beside him.

"Thank you, Mr President. It took a lot but, it was worth it. I couldn't have done it without the help of others though." He mumbled out a "and you, of course" at the end, although he didn't really believe it.

Schlatt gave a simple grunt in response, before turning to his desk to pick up a bottle beer. Another goddamn bottle.

"Jason is everything okay? You seem really...quiet, today. Off from your usual self...I don't like it, it's strange." Tubbo asked, taking one step closer to the other again.

Another grunt.

"You're lying." The younger continued pushing. "I mean, did I mess something up with the festival? Do you not like it? Is it-"

"Jesus, kid, just shut up!" Schlatt snapped, turning to face Tubbo again, his free hand sending stacks of paper flying around the place. Tubbo mumbled out a 'sorry', shuffling his way toward the door.

"I-I'm sorry for bothering you, Jason...I'll see you later, at the podium..." and with that he left, having only been in a matter of minutes. Schlatt sighed as he watched his child leave.

A drunken, aggresive mess. An upset, confused son. Just like the old times.

-

The right-hand man (Tubbo) took off, with an exact idea of where he was going; Pogtopia, the small underground "country" Tommy and Wilbur had been working on since their exile. He had to see his brothers, and he had to see them fast.

a/n: we back on track babey,, i have nothing to say here so woop hope yallre enjoying my story lol goodbye ily <3

a/n2: republishing because it had like no reads and idk im paranoid ppl didnt get notified so uhm- here it is again- yes i have issues go away xd