I Know You're Lying

Ending: I Choose Sapnap

It was stifling hot, like the insides of a furnace. Heat rising and crackling, snatching their voices with the flames that was fear. Yet George was cold, chilled to the marrow of his bones. Ice was frozen over his brain, stopping him from thinking. He inhales sharply, screwing his eyes tighter as he bawls his hands into fists. He doesn't want to vote. he knew if he voted wrong, he would send someone to their death along with getting killed himself. If he voted right, he would murder someone and forever live with the memory of his actions.

Either way, Death was his best friend, walking with him to the end and help point the knife.

'Open your eyes...'

Painfully slow, the three oblige. Silence. As expected, Sapnap was pointing at Tubbo and Tubbo was pointing at Sapnap. George shouldn't be surprised by this but yet he was. His stomach was doing backflips and he was faint as the other two stare at him, realizing who he was pointing at.

George was pointing at Sapnap.

'George... How could you?'

Sapnap stares at him, betrayed. It was like deja vu, when he had voted for Dream. I guess, this was how it ends, exactly as it started.

'You used me,' George says lowly, hurt. 'You manipulated me. But I'm not stupid.'

'You've made the wrong choice,' Sapnap growls, hands clawed as he makes a lunge at George. He steps back fearful and a click snaps through the air, alerting the two males. They turn around to look at the teeanger and their eyes widen.

In Tubbo's hand was a pistol, cocked and locked, pointing at Sapnap's head.

'You saw me do asteroids, Sapnap,' Tubbo says, shakily but loudly. 'You know I don't miss a shot.'

Sapnap slowly straightens, hands up in surrender. 

'Where the fuck did you get that?' George breathes.

Tubbo stares directly at Sapnap. 'He hid it in Tommy's suit. I found it when I put Tommy to rest in Med Bay.' He says his friend's name with emphasis, as if he is pride to be friend's with the loud, chaotic boy. 

'You wouldn't shoot me.'

Instantly, Tubbo steps forward, bringing the barrel of the gun at the centre of Sapnap's forehead. His hands are shaky but he poises determination and dementity. 

'Do you wanna find out?' he challenges lowly. 

Sapnap stays quiet, turning to look at George with sadness. George can't meet his gaze, latching onto his arm. Tubbo steps back but the gun never leaves sight of Sapnap. He's pulled to the ejection area and steps past the doors on his own accord, not even turning around to face them. George, with a heavy heart, presses a button. Metal meets metal and the doors shut.

The countdown began.

'We did it,' Tubbo breathes. 'You did it!'

Tubbo hugs George but he's rigid, unable to move. He only stares at the doors, listening to the electronic voice drone down through the numbers, fearful of the blood on the younger's suit. Tubbo takes the hint and steps back sheepishly.

'Sorry.'

'It's fine,' George replies stiffly. He finally pries his eyes away to look at the teenager, shooting a glance at the gun. 'How... how do I know I can trust you?'

Tubbo is quiet, thinking as he throws the gun from hand to hand. 'Jschlatt's paper said something about the scanner.'

'Yeah, we could do that.'

In silence, the two walk to Med Bay. They stop at the entrance, watching the sensor lights bloom in their presence, casting an eerie illumination on the covered bodies that lay in front of them. Seven dead here, another in the Cafeteria. With a shaky breath, George takes his first step.

One, two, three . He passes Nihachu's and TommyInnit's bed. The gentle and loving German woman who brought sunshine into every room she entered. The chaotic but charming British teenager who could never fail to make someone laugh.

Four, five, six. Karl Jacobs and Fundy are opposite one another. The delightful and cheerful young man who could look at the world in positive light when times were dim. The smart and endearing Dutch male who could make anyone feel safe and welcome.

Seven, eight, nine. BadBoyHalo and Quackity died in unison. The lovable and wholesome American man who made everyone feel loved. The witty and joyous Mexican male who believed that laughter was the best medicine.

A faltering tenth step as they slow down. Lastly, it was Callahan. Quiet and intelligent, he died before the story had even begun. He was smart, resourceful, never considered as a threat. He was a side character that deserved better instead of being in the background.

Instead of being static, his name were to be music.

George watches Tubbo stand upon the scanner. A green light shines, slowly raising before falling at the same speed. Ticking as the information is gathered, the statistics were displayed onscreen.

Tubbo was not an Impostor.

'Believe me now?' Tubbo asks with a soft chuckle. George just nods, a smile of sadness pulled at his lips. Tubbo understands, stepping off to wrap his arms around him once more. This time, George accepts the hug, squeezing him back.

They were safe.

'They're gone,' Tubbo whispers, mostly to himself. 'They're really gone.'

'Not all of us.'

The two break apart to turn around. Alyssa stands at the doorway, helmet tucked under her arm as she shakes her brown hair out, like a heroine. Skeppy stands to her left, eyes warm but tired. Dream is to her right, but leaves immediately, tackling George into a hug.

'You did it,' he says, soft and reassuring. 'You did.'

Skeppy and Alyssa walk over to join them but Skeppy breaks apart from her, approaching Bad's bed after seeing his red booties from under the sheets. He places a hand on his, taking a deep inhale as he collects his thoughts.

'Can we... can we go home?' he asks pleadingly. 

'Of course,' George answers, putting on a genuine smile. 'Let's go to Comms and tell Techno.'

Skeppy looks at him and takes his outstretched hand. Alyssa takes Dream's and Dream takes Tubbo's. George takes Alyssa's other hand and they share a moment together. 

They had survived.

It wasn't the happiest of endings. They had to live with the fact Sapnap and Wilbur were out there, as murders, left to rot in space. They had to live with the haunting thoughts of their dead friends, memories that would torture them in their sleep. They had to live with the constant nightmares and the interviews prodding and poking about their mission. 

And they will continue to live. They will continue to live with the knowledge they had gained from this gruesome experience. The will continue to live with the strongest bond that had formed with one another. The will continue to tell their story and to tell the lost soul's story until the end. They will never let their names go in vain.

They will never give up.

Victory.