itch (DreamSMP)

chapter 7

"You know, I still have nightmares."

Tommy blinks, glances at Tubbo from the corner of his eyes. Tubbo stares at nothing in particular, mind veered off somewhere. Tubbo looks back to him, cobalt blue eyes kind.

"More than often," He licks his lips, fingers twitching against his back. "You're in them." Tommy knows Tubbo is bad at talking in general, so watching the boy attempt to talk about their feelings was weird.

"You don't-" Tubbo laughs, sad and sweet as he curls closer to him. Tommy finds that the lack of emptiness is jarringly nice. "I worry about you. A lot. Ever- especially-" Tubbo's voice fades, and despite him trying to comfort Tommy, the blond reaches out hesitantly to slot their fingers together.

Tubbo breathes, and Tommy goes with him. Ranboo is in the kitchen(wasn't he forbidden?), a slight white noise as he flicks on a kettle. Michael is sleeping soundly on Tubbo's lap, arms thrown across his legs and spread out like an eagle.

"I'm saying, you don't need- you're not alone. Anymore, right?" Tubbo decides, and Tommy resists the urge to say You're wrong, everyone left me, everyone who hasn't pities me, I was loved more when I was dead. "I'm here. Alive, scarred, tired, but I'm alive." Tubbo says, and Tommy hopes he can't feel how clammy his hands are.

"I- I'm not, Tubbo. You don't. I get that but," Tommy swallows, gentle. You have to be gentle. Dont fuck it up. "I don't have anything to really.. live for, y'know?"

Tubbo tenses. "What?"

Shit. "Shit," Tommy hisses, "That's not what I meant, it's that. I've tried so hard to be okay. I wanted so badly to be happy. I tried leaving everyone alone." Tommy swallows. Clatter sounds in the kitchen, and a soft swear is spoken.

"I always get thrown into something else, always back to square one, always losing something." He vocalized, the low sunlight streaming from the curtains pours onto the soft blankets and cushion. "I got brought back, I got to escape. But what's the point? Other than killing Dream I suppose." Tommy murmurs, staring off at the wall.

Tubbo is pressed warm against his side, steady form grounding next to him. "Tommy.." Tubbo soothed.

"You don't need me anymore Tubbo." Tommy admits, and his eyes are too dried up to conjure a tear. His voice sounds wrecked, even to him, and Tommy hadn't realized how caked his emotions had become from pushing it all away. "You.. have a family. Clearly I'm not a part of it."

Tubbo gapes at him, scar chipped hands grasp his bicep. "Tommy, of course you're my family, what the hell are you talking about?"

Tommy screws up his face, freckled nose scrunched with bitterness. "Stop- don't say shit like that, man. I- I know I've been mean to you before but lying is rude." He tries to fluctuate a tone of humor at the end of his words, but Tubbo only looks more concerned.

"Look, Tubbo." Tommy sighs, he drops his gaze to a sturdy brown of the coffee table. "I.. hurt a lot of people. I know that, and- and I'm not stupid." Tommy scowls, he recalls the heady frown transfixed on Niki's face, and the pushed turn of Jack's brows when he thought he wasn't looking. "I know how people feel about me, and I convince myself I don't care."

Michael snores lightly against Tubbo. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't do anything but be myself, and everyone seems to hate that." it sounds even more cringe when it comes out his mouth, but he clicks his jaw shut to will down the distaste.

"I'm gonna be honest." Tubbo says after a moment, and Tommy lifts his gaze to Tubbo's own sturdy brown. "None of us have any clue what we're doing." Tubbo laughs humorlessly, bright with habit, and Tommy tilts his head.

"As hard as we've tried, as much as we do, the only thing we- we can do, is live." Tubbo explains, shuffles in his seat. Tommy is reminded of how they used to sit on the bench, exchange jovial tired wrought moments, pluck a disc into the tinny jukebox. Instead they sit, broken and full hearted on the brown furred sofa of Tubbo's home.

"You can choose if you want to spend your days losing them, or lose them with the people you love. I chose the latter, and that means even if I have no idea what I'm doing, I have no idea what I'm doing with someone else. And that. That's what it is to heal." It's the most sound thing Tubbo has said today, and even if it doesn't quite make sense yet, it will.

Tommy is still staring absently at his friend, processing the words. Ranboo is suddenly near the couch. "We're all a bit screwed in the head." Ranboo chuckles, his split colored eyes crinkle at the edges. It's how he knows it's real. "But at least we're all screwed together."

Tubbo winces. "Babe, maybe don't say it like that."

Tommy looks on in confusion as Ranboo blanches. "What? What does that mean? Tubbo?" He ventured, and Tubbo shook his head.

"Nothing, Tommy." Tubbo placated, sounding anything but. Tommy feels a familiar flaring outburst in the pool of solemnness. "I thought I told you not to lie to me!" He faux seethes. "I don't know anything." The brunette responds flatly.

"Guys-"

"Oh shut up, dickhead, why'd you interrupt our conversation anyways!"

"This is my house-"

"You sound like a bastard, right now. Ranboo you are a bastard, you are bastardizing Tubbo. "

"Wha- I thought you guys were having an emotional breakthrough! Can I not be involved in the conversation?"

"Of course not! You are very Clingy, Ranboo. Clingy man."

"You are currently the one attached to Tubbo's side." The tall prick points out dryly, and Tommy goes silent as Tubbo laughs high.

They fall quiet soon after that, the ice under them broken, so Tommy breathes in the cool water underneath it. They're not done yet, no, there's still a layer of mistrust within Tommy's ice contained eyes, and Tubbo's brief mention of nightmares is more than worrying. Tommy has noticed Ranboo's own tendency to wander and panic, and the possessive purple glow he remembers seeing once a snowy night.

For now, Ranboo grabs them christmas themed mugs, and fills them with sweet tasting tea. It warms his belly while they ponder in the stew of silence. Days with Tubbo aren't usually this somber, but they've both changed in such little time.

Tommy remembers he told Ranboo last night he'd leave this morning, but with Tubbo brushing against his side and blankets swirled in his laps, the early fire crackling near them with baby proof protective wire around it. He can't bring himself to.