Lavender Snow

Park

Tubbo and Tommy stayed at the park for hours. At first, Tubbo just awkwardly introduced himself and exchanged stories with the Watson family. After a while, though, Wilbur had started up a game that involved chanting and calling out other people's numbers, and soon the brothers were swearing and throwing fistfuls of grass at each other. A rivalry quickly sprung up between the teams of L'Manburg, Tommy and Wilbur, and The Revengers, Techno and Tubbo.

Wilbur climbed on top of the playground slide, pointing heroically at The Revengers below. "Independence, or death. If we get no revolution, then we want nothing. We would rather die than join your kingdom."

Techno scoffed. "We're already free, idiot, you're the one trying to make a government. One that will most likely fail because governments are stupid."

"We accept your challenge! We are at war!" Tubbo yelled, shoving past Techno. A woodchip was stuck in his curly hair. "You have five minutes to surrender, and then we're taking over the playset!"

Phil laughed from the grass where he was lounging on a blanket with Kristin. "So dramatic."

Tommy grabbed Wilbur's arm, pulling him aside. "What's our plan? We can't surrender, but they have the missiles," he said, eying the woodchips below. Tubbo was scrambling around, grabbing the largest pieces of bark and dumping them into Techno's lap, who was preoccupied with something in the grass under a tree.

"Of course not, we're not surrendering," Wilbur whispered. "We have the high ground. That gives us an advantage. If we can find some sort of weapon around here, we can probably fend them off at least for a little while."

Tommy glanced around. "Yeah, but we don't really have any weapons up here, do we?"

Wilbur grinned and pulled a bag of something out of his pocket. "We have these."

Tommy squinted at the label. "Gummy. . . Bears? What are those?"

"Candy. They get sticky when wet," Wilbur explained quietly. A shit-eating grin was already spreading across his face.

"Oh, that's perfect," Tommy said in a hushed, almost reverent voice. "They'll never see it coming."

Wilbur and Tommy both took a handful of gummies and popped them into their identically grinning mouths.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Kristin nudged Phil's side. "Look, it's been five minutes. They're meeting again."

Tubbo was sitting on Techno's shoulders, large pieces of bark in each hand. "Time's up! L'Manburg, surrender!"

"Neber!" Tommy shouted. "We will nod be corrups-ded by your billainy!" Kristin frowned. Is. . . is something in his mouth?

"You think you're a hero?!" Tubbo yelled back. He wound back, ready to throw the woodchips. "Then we'll be the villains!!"

"Oh no," Phil said.

Metal clinked as Tubbo chucked the woodchips at Wilbur and Tommy, making explosion noises as they hit. Techno handed him more woodchips from his coat pockets and drawled in his monotone voice, "Bang. Boom. Crash. Um. . . Other onomatopoeic sounds of bombs hitting. Death. Terror. Destruction."

Wilbur, who had been cowering with his back to the onslaught, suddenly spun around, revealing puffed-up cheeks. Tommy and Wilbur leaned up against the playset railing, spitting bits of rainbow at the Revengers. Tubbo yelped and slapped Techno's forehead as his hair became a multicolored mess. "They're using gummy bears! Retreat! Retreat! My hair!!"

Techno waited until Tommy and Wilbur's mouths were empty, then dumped Tubbo to the ground and reached into his pockets. Tommy and Wilbur watched warily, now weaponless.

"You want to be a hero, Tommy?" Techno said. Kristin and Phil watched in a sort of horrified fascination as he revealed three large rotting apples in his hands. "Then DIE LIKE ONE!!"

Wilbur and Tommy screamed and rushed down the slide as the mushy apples fell at them, splattering against the bars. Tubbo whooped, pumping his fists in the air. "YEAH, TECHNO!"

"They're going to get the smell of rotten apples in the car," Phil mourned.

Kristin patted his hand, sympathetic. "And look at Tubbo's hair. His new foster parents will probably have to cut some of those gummy bears out."

Tubbo and Techno now had their boots on Wilbur's back, yelling about victory and defeat and whatnot. Techno took the bag of gummy bears out of Wilbur's pocket and split them with Tubbo while Wilbur cursed and flailed beneath them.

Kristin squinted. "Where'd Tommy go?"

Phil glanced around quickly, then tensed and nudged her. Kristin followed his gaze and found Tommy sitting under a tree, curled in a ball. Was he. . . crying?

She started to get up to go over and see what was happening, but before she could do anything Tubbo walked slowly across the grass to him. Techno and Wilbur were oblivious, continuing to shout and wrestle with each other.

"Should we go over?" Phil murmured.

"Not yet, let's see what Tubbo's doing." Kristin said.

They watched as Tubbo sat down next to Tommy, leaning close to him and whispering something. Tommy flinched, but then he turned his head towards Tubbo and grabbed his hand. They whispered for a while longer, then Tommy rubbed his eyes and they stood, making their way back over to the playground.

Phil and Kristin looked away quickly, focusing back on Techno, who was trying to force Wilbur down a tunnel slide. Tommy and Tubbo approached their blanket, then Tubbo spoke. "Mrs and Mr Watson, is it okay if we take a walk by ourselves? Tommy's feeling overwhelmed."

"Of course," Kristin said, smiling up at the boy. "You guys can do whatever you want, just stay away from the road."

"And the geese," Phil added. "They're fucking monsters."

Kristin giggled, remembering the time when a goose had attacked Phil, chasing him a good two blocks before stealing his hat and flying off. Phil had a grudge and fear of all geese since that incident.

Tubbo nodded eagerly and tugged on Tommy's hand. They ran off, heading for the line of trees by the lake.

Only when the sun was setting did the boys return, clinging to each other and whispering promises to return. Tommy fell asleep in the car, leaning against Wilbur. Kristin watched them all the way home. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, this will work out.