Sbi oneshots

Home

(^art isnt mine credits to artist. If you know who they are please comment)
Idk man. I'm having sad boy hours. So here's some sad boy hours content.

He couldn't feel the supposed cold breeze that would have tickled his pale skin, nor could he smell the refreshing scents of the multicoloured flowers that it brought along with it.
He couldn't taste the saltiness in the air that standing by the long and open ocean would usually bring him.
He couldn't feel the ground beneath, the few blades of healthy green grass that gently danced just tickling the souls of his feet as he hovered only a few inches above. If only he could feel it.

The boy tugged and gripped at the sleeves of the stained yellow fabrics of the once whole and clean sweater as he gently glided forward towards the forgotten triangular structure.

Every sound seemed to drain much like the colour of his skin had, the sounds of the calm tide crashing softly against the sand in the distance, overlapping eachother as the waves came in and out, stealing sand, creating dips and cracks in the shore.
He didn't hear the sounds of the birds, chirping at their mates, at their young, bringing food, transporting suitable twigs and flapping their wings freely as they soared.
The sounds of the leaves of every twig, of every tree in the distance being hit and agressivly swatted around by the wind around him, every branch swinging in all directions, grounded by the trunks and roots that held them together.

Every small sound of the world around him. He didn't notice, he didn't care, he couldn't focus on anything.

Anything except tnret.

That's what the small, worn out oak of the sign wrote, the dark smudges that coated a large percentage of the sign spoke for itself. The holes in the ground below and around the large white structure reinforced any and all tnt related theories.

The tall male floated closer, and closer, every inch slowly becoming more overwhelming. The feeling of regret and guilt started to try and escape, a locked away emotion the ghostly boy had tried to hard to keep away for so long now.

The anxiety only grew, the trembling hands of the boy reached into his pockets, pulling out some blue. He hugged the supporting dye as it absorbed all of those negative emotions he despised, though a frown still lingered on his pale translucent face.

He passed the point of no return, through the open doors of the white wool material walls of tnret.

The boys pale grey eyes wondered. Scanning over every object, every scratch, noting every dusty surface, every muddy foot or hand print, every spot of dried blood that tainted the pure plain walls of the home.

But it wasn't home.

Home is safe.

He lifted a hand towards his head, the other arm still tightly pressed against his chest, holding the blue hostage between them. He subconsciously adjusted the wine red beanie that sat around his dark curly brown hair, before immediately placing his arm back to its pervious position, reinforcing the protection of the blue dye that sat between his chest and his translucent arms.

The ghosts face fell, his head tilted down as he stayed hovering above the threshold of tnrets entrance, he couldn't bare another second of feeling the immense emotions of loss as the memories of his time here un-consensually flooded the brunettes mind.

His body slowly pivoted round only to freeze in its tracks, his body jolting as his head shot up in the direction of the familiar object.

Tears erupted in his eyes as he stared. Whatever emotions he was feeling was overwhelming, a mix of loss, regret, shock, proudness, calmness, anger... he couldn't quite pinpoint it as he stared at the patterned block. It was old and dusty, a few webs from unwelcome spiders who had made a home within dances around and within it as the assumed cool breeze continued to flow through the open doors of the wool structure.

A juke box

Tommy's Juke box.

He couldn't take anymore of it. He reversed out of the tent, no matter how much he hated the immense emotions that followed him, that evolved within the structure, that formed from the once happy memories, he couldn't look away. He couldn't rip his cold ghostly eyes' gaze away from it.

The tears began to fall down his face, he hugged the blue in his grasp as tight has he possibly could to his chest as he let out a choked sob.

The boy who always smiled. The boy who always helped. The boy who offered blue to anyone and everyone. He always tried to keep everyone smiling. He always trusted everyone. He always gave the benefit of the doubt. He was always there to help. He tried his best.

But he failed.

He failed to deliver the invites. He failed to see what Dream was doing. He failed to see the evil within. He failed to help his exiled friend. His brother. He failed to protect him. He failed at keeping him happy. He didn't help him.

And even now.
He failed to smile.

And now he could never make Tommy smile again.

The ghostly shell of a boy that once was whole, continued to curl in on his translucent body as he willed and begged for the blue to work, for Tommy to come back, for everything to go back to how it was before.

To be home.

The sounds of his own choked cries once again blocked out all the once calming sounds of the nature around him. The trees rustling, the bees buzzing, the birds chirping, the waves crashing.
And the faint sounds of footsteps in the distance.

"Ghostbur?" The voice echoed. Familiar yet new, the same yet entirely different.

The ghost couldn't decide how to feel about that voice. That tone. So sad, full of remorse, full of sorrow.
The brunette reluctantly lifted his shaky head, and pivoted his floating body around to face the figure he had initially thought was a trick of the mind.

There he was. The boy stood, his fluffy blonde hair unbothered by the brisk winds that passed, he still wore his signature red and white shirt, along with his dark green pants, the fabrics now tattered and muddy. The boys hands like the rest of his equally as semi-transparent skin was clean, untainted and smooth, one hand was clutching a familiar compass, whilst the other gripped the green cloth around his neck. His unpigmented and glossy, pure eyes stared blankly at the taller, every scar that once sat on the drained face of the younger had vanished along with the happiness that the brunette remembered and longed for so dearly.

The blondes eyebrows were furrowed confusion as he watched his bother spiral, eyes scanning over every detail of his figure. Though not all hope was lost, as every memory of the boys adventures slowly presented themselves in the blondes brain he recognised his brother.
A large smile grew on his face as the levitating boy drifted in place only inches above the grass below flung his arms above his head enthusiastically as he laughed, "WILLBBYYYY!" He called cheerfully.

His sudden joyfulness snapping the fellow ghost from his thoughts.

The brunette immediately dropped his blue as he quickly darted towards his brother, engulfing him in a tight hug, he dug his head into the crook of the others neck.

The confused smaller, who didn't have much time to register the events, stumbled back at the sudden force against him, blinking, astonished.

He gently placed his hands on the tallers back, before wrapping his arms tightly around him and embraced him back, using once hand to rub reassuring patterns atop and around the others spine.

The warm embrace was new to the ghost. The ghost who once couldn't feel, was now experiencing the same sense he wished for. The warmth of the arms wrapped around him, the physical sense of their bodies touching, the tingling sensations of the familiar males hands rubbing his upper back.

Like the spirit of his brother, the feeling was familiar yet new, the same yet completely different.

"I'm so sorry, Tommy."

"It's okay, big man. It's okay."

The brothers stood, embracing eachother. Tommy felt so free. Free from torment, from torture, from the manipulation, from the stress inducing actions of his masked abuser.

And Wilbur?

Wilbur was safe.
Wilbur was home.