Hideaway: A Dream SMP AU

7

It was just past lunch when Tommy, Phil, and Techno arrived in New L'Manburg. One thing Tommy appreciated about his ally: Techno wasn't like Dream. He didn't rely on deceit and trickery. He just went in for the kill.

Techno led them along the obsidian skeleton of the TNT launchers, grinning with anticipation. His smile and eyes were darker than usual, a promise of death and blood soaking the earth.

"Did you warn Ranboo to evacuate?" Phil asked Techno. Tommy perked up at the mention of his friend. He hadn't known they were planning to get him out.

Techno nodded. "I did. He got his pets to safety, but he'll fight with his friends, if not for his country." "I hope he survives," Phil said worriedly. "There is a lot of TNT here."

Phil's eyes were shadowed, and Tommy wondered if he was thinking about the last time L'Manburg was destroyed— or, rather, who had blown it up and what had happened to them.

"In the end you're always right." Tommy had said that to Wilbur, once, before the Manberg Festival. When he'd still held out hope that Wilbur would be able to bring himself back. When he'd still trusted his older brother with his life.

But Wilbur had betrayed L'Manburg, a country of his own creation. He'd destroyed it.

And now here was Tommy, doing the same.

He supposed Wilbur had been right after all.

Techno's glanced off the edge, at the stilted city far below. "Looks like there's an army." He pointed to where a group of figures in shiny purple metal were assembled.

Tommy stared at them, trying to spot Tubbo from the crowd of allies. It took a minute or two, but Tommy finally picked out a short figure with fluffy brown hair.

Techno's voice carried on the wind. "Blood for the blood god!"

The first bombs crashed into New L'Manburg before Tommy could comprehend the words.

Skeletal black monsters took to the skies, death and destruction incarnate.

It was November 16th tenfold.

Techno leaped off the obsidian launcher, his feather-falling boots ensuring he landed lightly on his feet. After a moment, Phil followed.

But Tommy was frozen in place.

He could only watch the city burn, burn, burn, only watch the earth shake with explosions as L'Manburg was blown off the map.

"Tommy."

The voice was one he knew well, a voice that he had heard scream and sob and cheer.

Tommy turned to see President Tubbo of New L'Manburg behind him, about six feet away. His eyes were filled with tears.

"Tommy," Tubbo whispered. "I'm sorry."

Disbelief and fury raged within Tommy. "Sorry? Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry," Tubbo repeated, tears welling in his eyes. "I should never have given Dream the disc."

"No, you shouldn't have," Tommy snarled. "Go to hell."

A choked sob came out of Tubbo's throat. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "You were right. I'm worthless."

Tommy opened his mouth to confirm that, but he just couldn't.

"Useless," Tubbo continued. "A waste of space. I should never have been born!"

"No," Tommy found himself saying. "No. You're worth something, Tubbo. You're worth a lot."

Tears slid down Tubbo's cheeks. "No, I'm not," he countered quietly. "I'm nothing. A nobody who earned the presidency without the votes of the people, who betrayed so many. I should have been left to die on the side of the road where Phil found me."

"No, Tubbo." Tommy was crying now, too. "You're something, someone. You're Tubbo Underscore. My Tubbo."

"I'm sorry," Tubbo said again, the words fractured by sobs.

They closed the distance between them almost unconsciously. Tommy wrapped his arms around the person he'd missed for so, so long.

"I'm sorry," Tubbo whispered again. His tone shifted, dark ice edging the warm words.

"Tubbo...?" Tommy stiffened in the embrace.

And a knife was driven into his back.

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:)