Remember (A Ghostbur and Tommy Story)

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|729 words|

"Tommy," Ghostbur mumbled, glancing down at the brittle yellow-orange leaves scattering the ground. He watched, entranced, as the fragile leaves drifted through the air, swirling and spiraling until they landed gently at the base of the bench. An everlasting cycle of creation and destruction.

"Do you remember me in a good way? Or a bad way?"

His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"Because, Tommy," Ghostbur continued urgently, twisting back and forth agitatedly. "I was just thinking. Thinking about my life. My past decisions. And-"

Ghostbur stopped suddenly, his voice breaking off. He swallowed heavily, blinking back a wave of ghostly tears.

"It's okay," Tommy murmured, reaching a hand out toward the shaking figure. The younger boy's face twisted with mix of emotions- partially concerned, afraid, and confused.

"Well," Wilbur continued slowly, fingering the loose threads of his soft leather pouch. "I was just thinking about what Fundy said. And I think I may have done something before I died, when I was just Wilbur. Perhaps we should say Alivebur now. Either way, I think something happened then, something horrible. Something- something that I did. I must've screwed something up terribly."

Ghostbur paused, glancing up hopefully. Because despite it all, he didn't truly believe he had caused that much pain. There was always another option, another explanation. The tired lines creasing Tubbo's and Tommy's faces were just that: from exhaustion, plain and simple. Not from terrible trials or scarring experiences. Not from explosions. Not from him.

Not from him.

Tommy paused, dropping the handful of sticks he'd been tightly grasping. They tumbled to the ground and landed with a sudden thud.

"No-" the boy choked out.

But there was so much more simmering just beneath the poorly-played guise. A burst of feelings swarmed in Tommy's chest. He raised his head slowly, startled to find Ghostbur's wide and curious eyes staring back at him. Tommy stumbled back, his face flashing with regret, laced with a touch of guilt.

"You alright there, Tommy?" Ghostbur asked kindly as he reached his pale hand out to help the younger boy up.

"I'm okay, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? Do you want some blue?" Ghostbur smiled, his ghostly lips stretching, a flash of joy brightening his face. He'd do anything to make the others happy, even at his own expense.

"Not right now, Wilb- I mean Ghostbur," Tommy hastily added. "But thanks."

He let out a small sigh as he scuffed his shoes on the hard clay ground. He tried to reign in his bubbling emotions while still trying to seem... normal.

"No thanks," he repeated, a little more firmly when he noticed Ghostbur continuing to hover and stare.

"I'm sorry," Tommy relented slightly. "I just-"

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into the fleshy palm of his hand. He let out a long, heavy breath.

"I'm sorry, Ghostbur. Maybe some other time."

"Are you sure? Do you want to visit Friend? Friend cheers everyone up!" Ghostbur grinned broadly, positively wiggling in the air.

Tommy glanced back at the ghost of his old friend, then toward at the path. "I-" he began. "Alright, Ghostbur, alright."

So he followed, ignoring the tight clench in his stomach.

It's Ghostbur, he reminded himself. Ghostbur. Not Wilbur. Ghostbur.

But still, Tommy left after a quick greeting to the bright blue sheep.

"Hellooo, Friend," he said, "Ha! Nice and blue, what a surprise." Then he spun around on his heel, prepared to head back home.

"Already leaving?" Ghostbur asked, a slight frown flashing across his lips. "You don't want to feed Friend?"

"Later," Tommy replied hastily as he backtracked out of the pen. "Later."

At the last second, he glanced back at the ghostly figure.

"Oh, and Ghostbur? I- I remember you in a good way."

Tommy smiled sadly as he walked away, his stomach churning with the lie.

Because sometimes you have to lie, even if there's hardly a shred of truth to the claim.

Because sometimes your friends betray you. And no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to forgive them. Even when they're so different, so innocent, that it's hard to recognize who they once were. There's something, some unconscious instinct that stops you from opening back up, placing your trust back into their hands.

Because there's something inside of you that always remembers.

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This is my first time writing a DreamSMP oneshot haha. For the people who followed me because I wrote Cimorelli stories, dw, I'll upload those as much as I normally do (I think). I just wanted to upload some Dream SMP stuff, as that's my main fandom right now, especially since the girls are taking their break. Feel free to leave this out of your library and stuffs because you won't understand what's happening (most likely).

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