Vengeance

8- A brother.

Today was the day.

Today was the day that the brunette had to say goodbye to his best and oldest friend.

He had to face the reality of the situation.

Tommy was gone.

Tubbo had watched him fall.

Dream had buried the boy.

The brunette let out small sniffles as he pulled on a smart black blazer to match his shirt and trousers. This was the first death that hit him hard. Wilbur had died a few months prior, but the man had returned as ghostbur, filling the empty spot that Wilbur had left behind.  This time there was no filling the hole, the void that had been created with Tommy's death. Nothing could fix it. Not even another forgetful ghost.

If the blonde was going to return, it would've happened already, Tubbo thought. The younger teen having been impatient and reckless as long as they had known each other, practically since they were born. If he were to return, he would've been here by now. Tommy wouldn't be the same, anyway.

Tubbo moved to stand in front of a mirror, checking his appearance one last time before making his way to Logstedshire, where the boy had been buried and the funeral was to be held. The brunette looked at his face, seeing his eyes red and puffy from crying. The teen practically hadn't stopped since the incident, having fallen asleep the night prior in ghostburs arms while he sobbed into the soft yellow jumper.

He wiped his eyes and walked out the nearby door, trying to look his best. The morning sun warmed his face as Ghostbur greeted him solemnly.

"Are you ready, Tubbo?" The ghost asked gently, trying not to upset the boy further.

Tubbo hummed a short reply as he tried his hardest to hold himself together. It had been a day since he had lost his friend. Grief still clawed him from inside, causing him to tear up at the thought of the younger teen.

The boy inhaled deeply, eyes closed, and began walking towards the portal which would take him to Tommy's final resting place. The ghost floated sombrely alongside.

During the short trip through the nether, along Tommy's hodgepodge bridge, the boy and ghost remained silent. Few thoughts ran through the boys head as he just stared at the stretch of bridge in front of him.

Tommy had built this so his friends could visit, yet nobody came. Tubbo had tried once or twice but his presidential duties kept him in Lmanberg, every attempt to see his friend halted by someone asking for something before he could even pass through the portal. The only time he had managed to come here hadn't ended well. If only he had never been made president.

The brunette sniffled as he entered the portal to Logstedshire, the walk through the nether having been long which left Tubbo to his thoughts. A hand heavily placed on his shoulder broke Tubbo free from his mind. He looked up at the man which the hand belonged to. Dream.

Tubbo sniffled again, looking around at Logstedshire where he had left Tommy. The once white tent, now tattered, unkempt and off-colour, the Christmas tree that had been build in an attempt to cheer the blond up now rotting as it drooped. Moving closer to the tent, Tubbo felt tears well in his eyes at the sorry sight. Inside the tent, the bed was unmade, dirt plastered the sheets which seemed to have been white at some point. He had forced Tommy to live like this. In this filthy hovel.

Dream placed a gloved hand on Tubbo's shoulder, gently giving it a squeeze to try and move the boy along.

Tubbo turned to face dream, looking down with a sob. He brought his little hands to his eyes, wiping away the floods of tears that fell from his face. The older man gently embraced the younger as Ghostbur watched from the nether portal.