Tommy & Tubbo || Platonic Oneshots

Stand In That Field and Tell Me You're Sane

This oneshot is one of those random and vague things that I've decided to write because I find them fun and easy, also because I'm having severe issues with motivation/writer's block, so this is the most I can really do right now.
Also, please note that I have no idea what I'm doing when I write these, so they aren't really supposed to make sense.

CW// Mentions of death/suicide
                        
Tubbo

      My eyes finally opened again to reveal an all-too-familiar field of white roses.

      I fell to my knees, a failure once again, and the roses at my feet stained red. I screamed and cried and sobbed until my throat was hoarse and my eyes burned.

      And then, when everything was still and silent, I heard his voice echo from behind me.

      "Tell me, Tubbo; how many times are you going to kill yourself to try and save him?"

      "Shut up." I spat, wiping the few remaining tears from my face and standing up again.

      I heard him sigh. "Tubbo, please, just stop trying. You're only causing more damage than the others can take. Think about all the timelines you've left behind. Think about all of those versions of your friends that you've abandoned. Stop being so selfish and just accept that Tommy's life has to end."

      "Shut up!" I yelled, abruptly turning around to face him.

      He was further away than I remembered, the roses around his feet varying in shades of black and grey. He looked so sad, just standing there with his hands clasped together in front of him.

      Why did he look so sad?

      "Tubbo," He started. "Please, think. Think about everything you keep leaving behind. Think about how they're all hurting far more than they should be, all because of your selfish acts."

      I shook my head at him. "That's not fair. You can't say that. You can't."

      Why was he looking at me like that?

      Why did it seem like he was getting further and further away?

      "Please, just stop trying. Accept Tommy's fate and try to move on. Let the others help you through it. Just please, don't come back here. Please." He practically begged me. I could barely see the expression of grief on his face as he began fading away into the distance.

      "I can't. I promised him that I wouldn't let him get hurt ever since he came back from the prison. I promised him."

      There was no reply. There wasn't even a faint or gentle breeze as he blurred into nothing.

      The roses at my feet were all the deep red colour of blood.

      Tommy's blood.

      I looked down at my hands. They were still coated in red, reminding me of my failure. I could practically see the look in his eyes as he died in my arms.

      It wasn't a look that I could identify. Knowing Tommy, it probably wasn't resentful or anything like that.

      But I couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking at me with betrayal, knowing full well that I had broken another promise that I never should have made.

      I was alone in the field. It was no longer white, and the patch of darkness where he had stood was gone. All of it was replaced with red.

      Everything was red.

      The sky, the clouds, the roses, the grass, my palms, my nails, my eyes, my tears.

      It was all my fault.

      I had to go back.

      I had to try again.

      Someone behind me sighed, and when I turned around again, everything had changed.

      I was sitting on a familiar bench, gazing at a familiar horizon, listening to a familiar music disc, laughing with a familiar friend.

      How many times had I gone back to this moment? I didn't know - I'd lost count.

      I remembered something someone had told me, though I couldn't remember who.

      "The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."

      Well, maybe I was just being irrational. Maybe just a little selfish.

      Or maybe I was, in fact of what they had said, insane.

                        
Total Word Count: 692