Down with the King- Dream SMP

22- Tubbo

WARNING: Language and some alcohol abuse content

When he awoke, he didn't recognize where he was.

"Hello?" he called out, sitting up and pushing the white sheets back. He had been lying in a bed in a room with blue walls. A vase with a wilted poppy sat next to the bed on a dresser.

"Ah, you're awake," George said, entering the room with a medic.

"What's going on?" Tubbo asked as the medic came to rewrap his injured arm.

"After the... incidents of last night, you were found and brought to the medical wing," George said slowly, taking a seat on the chair across from Tubbo.

"And why are you here?" he asked warily, wincing as the medic was a little too rough with her bandages.

"I wanted to apologize," George sighed, pushing his white goggles away from his eyes. "On behalf of Dream, I'm sorry. What he did was uncalled for."

"Why isn't Dream here apologizing himself then?" Tubbo shot back. "And where's Tommy?"

"Dream is currently out of town," George replied. "And if I knew where Tommy was, I'd tell you. As it stands, only Dream knows where he is and Dream is gone."

Tubbo fell silent, quietly thanking the medic as she finished dressing his wound and left.

"Why are you apologizing?" he finally asked. "I thought you and Dream were close."

"We are," George nodded. "But there are some lines that even I won't cross. Lately... Dream has been acting differently. I'm not sure what's going on with him, to be honest."

"Dream acting differently?" Tubbo said bitterly. "Are you sure that you're not only just now seeing who he truly is? This isn't different for Dream, this is completely normal."

"That's where I have to disagree with you," George said abruptly, standing from the chair and looking down at Tubbo. "You don't know Clay like I do. You haven't known him for years, you don't know what he's really like. All you've ever seen is a king, a figurehead. You don't know the actual person beneath!"

"And you do?" he challenged.

"I thought I did," George admitted, looking away. "And maybe I still do. It's hard to tell right now."

Silence overtook the conversation once more until George spoke again.

"I came to apologize and I did," he said, turning to leave the room. "I sincerely hope you heal quickly, Tubbo."

He nodded silently as George left the room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. Perhaps there had been a time when Dream was a kinder version of himself, but after his experiences last night, Tubbo doubted that person existed anymore.

He left the medical wing, heading back up to his room where he changed into more comfortable clothing. The shimmering compass on his nightstand caught his eye and he picked it up, looking at the red needle. If his plan to free Tommy had failed, at least he could try to find Technoblade now. His job could potentially be easier with Dream out of the picture.

He left his room, following the compass.

"Hey Tubbo, good job!" Quackity called as they passed each other in the hallway, but Tubbo ignored him.

"Ay man, didn't you hear me?" Quackity asked, backpedaling to fall in step alongside him.

"Thanks," Tubbo said, shoving the compass in his pocket. "Thank you. Sorry, I've just been out of it lately."

"That's okay," Quackity shrugged, though his eyes searched Tubbo's for something, anything. "You know that I'm here for you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tubbo nodded, moving past him. "Thanks again."