what tragedies befall us

postscriptum

AN: Yeah my willpower is crap and I really wanted to write a part three

Heads up, I haven't even written it yet but I know it will be trash, I have no idea what I'm doing. I am also very sorry i procrastinated over this, i'm lazy.

(Part three of 'dearest death')

TW: Implied suicide, mentions of death, self-inflicted pain, angst and a lot of tears, shouting, mentions of dyslexia? (is that a trigger?)

The day Tommy crept into the comforting folds of death and fire, Tubbo was feeling stressed.

He had so many contracts to sign, people to meet, conflicts to resolve, added with the constant arguing of his VP and his gradually worsening dyslexia, and he was left, suffice to say, way too overwhelmed. So, the second Quackity walked back into his office with another disagreement on his lips, Tubbo slammed his hands against the desk littered with papers and proceeded to get the hell out of there.

He didn't have anyone to run to, and no where to hide at. In the heat of the moment (get it 'heat' haha i'm so funny), the president of a slowly crippling nation decided to go visit his ex-best friend, the very one who's exile led to all the political disputes between him and his cabinet members.

Tubbo had no idea what he was expecting when he strode through the swirling purple particles (i wrote 'purple portal particles' but the alliteration was making me laugh so i changed it, sorry not). He had no idea what he was expecting when he walked down the hardly-visible path. He had no idea what he was expecting when he finally reached the flimsy white tent.

But it definitely wasn't a desolate land, the items in the poor excuse for a shelter covered with a good layer of dust, and no loud sixteen-year-old in sight.

"Tommy?" Tubbo called. The sound of crashing waves was all that answered him. "Tommy, where are you?"

He wasn't exactly worried. After all, there wasn't anywhere else Tommy would go, and Dream had reassured him several times his friend was doing fine. 

Were they even still friends at this point? He'd visited a few sparse times before, but had stayed hidden the whole time, watching from a distance, letting Tommy think he was a hallucination. He shook off his thoughts, refocusing on the task at hand.

After about half an hour's worth of searching and yielding no results, though, Tubbo was starting to get a little concerned, to say the least. Especially when he saw the small holes dotted around the land, streaked with soot and smelling of ash and sulfur.

Stepping into the Nether, he decided to go back to L'Manburg. After all, if he couldn't even find Tommy, what good would this visit do? He still had a ton of paperwork back at his office to complete.

Distracted by his thoughts, the President didn't notice when he starting straying off onto a different path. That is, until his shoe brushed against something small and hard. Looking down, he recognized the familiar shape of a navigational device.

Glancing around, there seemed to be no one around. Odd.

Tubbo picked up the piece of technology, skimming over the screen. It was one of the simple, more old-fashioned ones, serving only to display coordinates. Flipping it around to search for indication as to who it belonged to, he was surprised to see a piece of peeling masking tape, the words 'Property of Big Man Innit' written on top in a thick, messy scrawl.

"Tommy?" He immediately scanned his surroundings again. No TommyInnit.

"Maybe he went down there somewhere," he muttered to himself, lying down on the narrow bridge to look at the islands of red below. Only the local population of mobs greeted him, shuffling over the cracked rocks and grumbling or moaning in their tongue.