The Death That Follows

Bart Miller

TW: Bee Duo, Suicide Attempt, Mentions of Gore, WNF, Mention of Wilbur x Sally

Ranboo

"It wasn't your fault." That's all Tubbo has been able to say since I woke up. It wasn't your fault Wil can't see well. It wasn't your fault you cut off his arm. It wasn't your fault you prevented people from saving those you love.

I told him not to bring Michael. I couldn't bear for him to know that his dad is a monster. A monster that tortured his own friends, and brother in law, more than half to death.

I remember it, too. I remember the screams, and the pleading, and XD's sadistic smile. But there was nothing I could do. I was stuck, my arms moving without my approval.

I doubted Wilbur would ever be able to look at me again. I wouldn't be able to either.

"Daddy, look. I made you a picture!" Michael yelled, and I forced a smile on my face. Against my bidding, sweet, stupid Tubbo had brought our son, and Michael was determined that mud potions and crayon pictures were going to fix me.

Luckily, I wasn't too bad, a bit banged up from the explosion. But, apparently, I had a form of brain damage the surgeons had never seen before. Probably in the shape of an X and a D.

"I love it, buddy. It's amazing." I said, which wasn't a lie at all. He was getting much better, Tubbo, and YouTube, teaching him how to draw straight lines and circles. Our fridge was too small to hold all the pictures.

"How are you feeling, love?" Tubbo asked, kissing my forehead. He had hardly given me a second by myself, something I both loved and hated. He loathed seeing others in pain, especially Michael and I.

"Alright. Just a bit tired." I said, hiding the pain in my eyes from him. I knew, somehow, he was aware of how I felt, but I didn't want to throw rocks at the dam keeping my sanity intact. After a moment, the self destructing part of me had to ask "Have you talked to Wilbur recently?"

Tubbo hesitated, situating some 'get well' balloons nervously.

"I have. Well, I talked to Niki. He is. . . alive." He said, and I swallowed. If that was the best Tubbo could do, how bad was it really?

I felt pressure behind my eyes, but crying felt too simple. Not enough for everything I did.

"How bad, Tubbo?" I asked quietly.

"Ran. . ." He tried, but I cut him off.

"Tobias Za. How bad is it?" I pounded against my bed like a child, making my head spin slightly.

"He isn't speaking much, or eating, or much of anything. But it is more about George and dad and. . . Tom." Tubbo said, tears welling in his eyes, and I was immediately guilty for forcing him to talk.

But I didn't know what to say. The whole experience was so surreal, I kept forgetting major parts, as if they never happened. Then, in the dead of night, I would wake up in a cold sweat, reliving the moment over and over again.

"Okay. I'm sorry." I said, hanging my head, and I felt two, strong arms surround me, even in my awkward position.

"It's okay. Everyone hurts after XD, Ranboo. And it isn't more your fault than all of ours what happened." He said, and I wished I could believe him, but no one else almost killed someone. No one else will have to live with blood on their hands for the rest of their lives. Not like I will.

Wilbur

Techno was out getting food, while Niki was in the shower, unable to hide her sobs with the water.