Pages From My Heart

Stained Blue

Tommy lost him. Tommy lost the brother he had always wanted to come back. Ghostbur was in Limbo now, suffering and alone and... forgotten. Forgotten, just like Wilbur had wanted to be. But Wilbur was back. It didn't matter. This Wilbur was hardly his Wilbur. That one was gone. Tommy didn't have a brother. All he had were the remnants of him. Of them.

Tommy's coat from L'manburg hung in his closet now, torn to shreds and dirty beyond measure. He missed L'manburg. He missed when his brother was happy and when his friends were together, there for him and each other. The sweater Ghostbur had knitted for Tommy hung in his closet, right next to his coat. It was vibrant but well worn. Tommy wore it a lot. Some would say too much, but they didn't know how it felt. Ghostbur's gentle touch and even gentler love was woven throughout the sweater. Tommy sometimes joked, saying that it was the only thing holding the thing together, but really... how much of a joke was that?

He had not touched either of them in months, but those months felt like years. What point was there? His brother... or brothers, he supposed, weren't there. They were gone and lost, just like him after... he shook his head. He couldn't dwell on that. Tommy had lost his family and that was all that mattered to him. He was lost and alone, abandoned by those who swore to never abandon him.

•••

Wilbur saw the stains on Tommy. The vibrant stains of cerulean and sky, of sapphire and azure. They were littered all over him: on his cheeks, on his arms, on his back, in his hair. There were gentle streaks where his fingers wiped Tommy's tears. There were deep patches were he patted his little brother on the back. There were large stains where he hugged Tommy, whispering soothing songs to him until he fell asleep. Nothing about him was left untouched. He was stained blue. But sometimes, sometimes Wilbur even saw the faded red marks from himself. They were in the same places that the blue was, melting into it to create the softest purple, reminiscent of the alliums Tommy adored. Wilbur knew he could never replace Ghostbur. He also knew that he could never replace himself in Tommy's heart. But sometimes... sometimes those stains of love were just enough to remind him that what was broken wasn't unfixable.