The Year We Had (MCYT AU)

48: Displaced

CONTENT WARNING//TRIGGER WARNING: From this point onwards, this book will contain graphic depictions of violence and themes of death.

If these are things that are not right for you, that is perfectly okay. If you still want to know how the story ends without having to read, DM me and I'd be happy to summarize it for you. Please read the remainder of this book with care, and always put yourself first <3

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As it turns out, schools close after a shooting.

There was nothing more depressing than sitting there on the oval and waiting for parents who obviously weren't going to show up. Tubbo had stopped crying a few hours ago, after Ranboo and Niki had reluctantly left to meet their parents.

They wouldn't let him leave the school without a guardian. He had tried sneaking out a couple of times, but teachers had spotted him and ended his great escape before it could even begin.

"Still no answer." Hbomb said sadly, placing a gentle hand on Tubbo's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tubbo."

"S'okay." Tubbo sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. It wasn't okay. Even Quackity and Fundy had at least gone with Karl, and their guardians had a good reason for not showing up. Tubbo's parents just didn't care. They never had, really.

He held Tommy's phone between his hands. He hadn't put it down since they had been escorted out of the building by people in protective gear. He didn't want to keep it. He was supposed to give it back to his friend after this was all over. He would hold onto this phone until he saw Tommy again, whether in this life or the next.

He heard his teacher's phone ring, and then watched him step away to answer it.

Tubbo closed his eyes. It wasn't so long ago that he and Tommy used to sit out here with their friends on their breaks and on the weekends. He wanted so badly to hope, but the dried blood on his hands was a reminder of how badly things had gone. It had all happened so fast.

When Hbomb came back, it was with a pained smile. "Come on. Let's head up to your dorm and collect your things. We're gonna go meet Sam at the hospital."

Tubbo nodded woodenly. He stood and followed his teacher towards the dorms.

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Torture was worse than fighting.

Tommy's resolve could only last so long before it finally broke and he was left screaming, begging them to stop. It had been two days, he estimated. It was hard to tell.

The man was called Marcus. He was very kind to Tommy, right up until he was carving up his skin slowly. Marcus had a warm demeanor that didn't match the pain he inflicted. After the first ten hours, he had accepted that Phil truly didn't know the answer to his question. That hadn't stopped him from asking another. This one he seemed a lot less willing to move on from.

Sleep wasn't easy in the basement. Tommy was still tied to a chair, and the blood loss was making him feel woozy. His right arm burned horribly with wounds that hadn't been cleaned or closed. He could feel the infection setting in.

All in all, there were seven long, deep slashes made in his left arm. Another three in his right. A shallow cut had been made along his collarbone-- more a threat than anything else. The wounds had all been made so slowly, with such precision.

"You alright mate?" Phil asked as Tommy shifted in his chair. It was impossible to get comfortable. The ropes were digging into his wrists and ankles.