MCYT Oneshots (and Requests)

10. North, South, East, West

CONTAINS SPOILERS OF DREAMSMP 01.03.2021 EVENTS

TW: mentions of character death, angst

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It wasn't late at night at all. In fact, it was only afternoon, the sky clouded with grey floating pillows that cried. It was like the universe knew. Nobody was outside, seemingly doing their own thing, so it was easy to get this far.

Only a single pair of footsteps seem to be the main source of noise in the underground base. It was so far under that it isn't even cold, closer to the warm core than the gloomy, rain-saturated overworld. You would think its eeriness would indicate that it was empty, but a lone teenager roams it's abandoned area, touching the stone walls as he ambles slowly. His feet drag but there's purpose to each step. His eyes are dull, but tears show emotion. One thing you should know is that the walls aren't barren, nor was the floor. Countless wooden buttons cover the surface, as if a reminder of the horrific times of the past. The teenager's hands shake with every button that he passes, scratching his skin and gaining several splinters, but he doesn't flinch, unfazed and unaware. He makes it through until the end of the ravine without any trouble, not a single moment getting in the way. It was like even the mobs knew this place was best left alone. Yet the teenager is here, stopping and staring at the stone wall with tear-filled orbs. He takes in a shuddering breath, a lump in his throat.

He can't help but collapse onto the floor with his emotions becoming unbearably overwhelming. He begins to bawl again, not the first time of the day, nor will it be the last. They're choking sobs that make his shoulders shake and heart clench. Through his crying, the broken child yells out painfully.

'Wil- Ghostbur?' Tubbo sobs, tilting his neck up to announce to the roof. 'Ghostbur, please, I need you.'

After minutes of waiting and weeping, Tubbo forcefully pushes away the liquid on his cheeks. With unsteady hands, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, circular piece of metal on a chain. Offering it to the sky, he begins to plead.

'Wilbur, please. I... I need you. The c-compass you gave me is broken. I just... please fix it. It's the only thing I have left of him.' The brunette boy has to use so much energy as to not drop the compass with his shaking hands. They're bony, thinner than they once were, the knuckles bruised and the skin dry. 'I can't lose him. I just can't...'

He's greeted with silence. He didn't know what he expected coming here. This would be the last place he'd find Ghostbur. He doesn't even know if Ghostbur knows what Pogtopia is. The needle of the compass spins around, quivering, catching the brunette's attention. It's been acting like this a couple of hours Tubbo got the news after being so still. Without this compass, Tubbo doesn't know what he's going to do. Pathetic irony, he has no sense of direction.

Tommy was dead. Your Tommy. His Tommy was dead.

'I'm sorry I couldn't come to the prison,' Tubbo sobs. 'I'm sorry I spent so much time with Ranboo, knowing how much you relied on me. I'm sorry that I wasn't the best friend you needed. I'm sorry I exiled you. I'm sorry for everything, Tommy, just please come back.'

A distant dripping and groans of a lone, far away zombie meet his ears. No laughter, no snide remark, no obnoxious humming. He hopes with all his heart for the blonde boy to appear, for him to shout 'boo!' behind him and to hear his annoying screeches of laughter at his friend's reaction. He wanted this all to be some cruel joke.

His North, South, East and West became one, and disappeared the moment Tubbo learnt Tommy was dead. Now, life seems to go by aimlessly. Snowchester seems dull. All he wanted was to go to the bench and listen to a disc. Even that was impossible.

Sorrowfully, he calls out. 'Ghostinnit?' Even if Tommy came back as a ghost, as someone different like how Ghostbur differed from Wilbur, Tubbo wishes to just see his face, even for a moment. Just one moment could be enough. 'Tommy?'

The needle of the compass halts to a stop, pointing to Tubbo's left. With the tiniest glimmer of hope, he props himself onto his knees and stares around, tired brown eyes searching for the other's electric blue ones.

But nobody came.

Defeated, Tubbo puts the compass on the ground before him, slumping over as he sniffs. He's worn out, no more tears able to be cried. His heart is completely shattered as he loses himself. It's like his last life was just stolen away from him.

'What am I without you?' he whispers, staring at the compass. It continues to point East, almost tauntingly. Rage consumes him and he snatches it up again, raising it above his head and is about to throw it before realizing what he's doing. He growls in fury, angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at Dream. Hell, he was angry at Tommy for dying. Realizing what he just thought, he is filled with despair and his arm grows limp. He cradles the compass, helpless, repeating the words again. 'What am I without you?'

The ravine lets the boy grieve, now completely silent as if joining him in sorrow. A figure watches him, head tilted to the side as he studies him. Sitting cross-legged beside him, he gives out a sigh, turning to stare at the wall as they sit in the eerie quiet.

'Yourself,' he finally replies. Tubbo doesn't react, unable to hear him. Tommy's ghost repeats it, as if trying to remember how he recalls this conversation, memory hazy. 'Yourself.'

Just two kids, two boys, who had lost it all for the sake of doing what they believed was right, that was for the better. They had to grow up and they lost it all.

And who's fault was that?

~

Words: 1005

Published: 02.03.2021

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