fandom:dsmp
summery: What if Tommy getting struck by lightning after the destruction of L'Manberg wasn't just a blooper? Yes, this is a small au in which Tommy actually gets hurt by the lightning, and let's just say Tubbo mentally can't take any more loss.
~~~~~~~
Tubbo sat on the edge of the obsidian, looking over the country. The country he had failed to protect. If you could even call it a country anymore. Now it was just a bunch of holes, some of them stretching deep enough that bedrock could be seen. The small fires that had lingered well after the explosions were smothered by the downpour, leaving charred wood and black, jagged stone where the great nation had once stood.
He had failed to protect the one thing he was responsible for. Maybe if he had tried a little harder. Prepared a little more. Hadn't stayed so quiet.
Maybe Dream was right.
Maybe he was the worst thing to ever happen to L'Manberg.
He let the rain drip down his back, becoming numb to the bone-chilling water.
In the end, it all boiled down to his fault. If he wasn't president, then maybe things would've gone differently. Maybe, he wouldn't be sitting above the ruins of the country he was supposed to be running.
My fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my f-
He snapped his head up at the flash of lightning nearby, his hands fumbling to grab hold of the wet obsidian as a loud clap of thunder followed, nearly falling from his perch. He looked around, running a hand through his hair and shaking out some of the water that had gathered there when he spotted a group of people huddled around something.
No, someone.
He stood up, squinting, trying to make out who was there.
Wilbur, Quackity, Eret, Jack Manifold-
" Tommy. "
He had meant for it to come out as a scream, but instead, it exited his throat as barely a whisper, immediately washed away by the rain.
He scrambled to get down, his feet stumbling on loose rocks and debris.
He needed to get to Tommy.
Maybe the timing of the lightning had just been a coincidence, and Tommy had just fallen a short way. Maybe he was looking into it too much, like he did on that dreadful day at Logstedshire.
His thoughts sounded more like a wish than rationalizing.
He sprinted across what was left of L'Manberg towards the group, the rain stinging his eyes.
He pushed through the group, taking in the sight before him.
A figure lay crumpled on the ground, broken, unmoving. His arms were snaked with red and purple, only a small tint of pink left on his lips and cheeks.
"Tommy!"
He threw off the hand that had come to rest on his shoulder and slid to his knees, the sharp rocks cutting into them, but Tubbo barely noticed.
His sharp breaths echoed in his throat as he frantically jabbed his fingers in and around Tommy's neck, trying to find any sort of pulse.
He put his ear to Tommy's mouth, hoping, wishing, that his breaths were just too fine to hear and his pulse too weak to detect.