☆.｡ TommyInnit & Tubbo Oneshots :*☆ ✓

Battlescars [Hurt Comfort]

Tubbo looked at his hands. They were soft, smooth, just how a five-year-old child's should be. He looked back at his father's hands. They were rough, scratched, just how a good soldier's should be. Tubbo's curiosity got the better of him.

"Dad, what are those on your arms?"

The man turned to look at him with his piercing emerald eyes. His eyes were tired, but he smiled nonetheless.

"These are battlescars."

Tubbo squinted his eyes in confusion, pouting his lips. His father chuckled and took off his green and white-striped hat.

"You mean you fought in a war?"

The blonde sighed and gingerly caressed his torn and stitched up hat.

"Yes, Tubbo. A very big one."

The boy's mouth was left agape with awe. His eyes shimmered with admiration.

"That's so cool! Can I get some?"

Phil's smile grew wider with fondness and he chucked his hat on top of the young brunette's head.

"No, but I tell you what,"

Tubbo's eyes and mouth grew wider.

"What?"

The man gently placed his hand onto his son's cheek, slowly stroking it.

"Whenever you see someone with these scars, give them a big hug, okay?"

The little boy leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"Okay."

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"Dad, can we get some honey, please?"

Tubbo tugged lightly at his father's arm as they waltzed through the tall isles in the grocery mart.

"We will, Tubs, just let me get some other stuff first, alright bud?"

The small arm unlatched itself from the bigger one while Tubbo nodded his head in understanding. He looked around at his surroundings with his big, pretty carolina-blue eyes. He spotted a lonely-looking teenager frowning at the floor, looking as if he were about to cry.

Tubbo trudged towards the boy as he looked up, wondering what a child was doing, walking towards him. Instead, no words were spoken as the little one brought the teenager into a hug. The young blonde felt like he needed that. He needed that a lot.

Tears spilled from the teenager's steel-blue eyes as he silently cried into the soft hair of the younger boy. He whispered to the boy in a soft voice.

"Why are you doing this?"

The small voice was muffled by their embrace.

"You have battle scars."

The older boy's face scrunched up with emotion, as he cried harder into the young boy's hair, radiating comfort and warmth.

They finally pulled away after what had felt like hours, the two boys staring into each other's eyes; one filled with joy and pride, while the other filled with tears and gratitude.

"Thank you."

Tubbo beamed.

"You're welcome."

The brunette felt a firm hand on his shoulder, held with reassurance and glory. The boy gave a goofy smile to his father before returning to look at the grinning teenager.

"My war is far from being finished."

Tubbo smiled wistfully at the older boy, so did his father. The boy returned the look.

"Thank you for giving me strength."

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"Life is like a bicycle that you're riding down an endless road. You don't really know your destination, but you have to keep going. Time is the group you're riding with, they never stop for anyone and are merciless, but you ride with them, for fear of being alone. The road is the people you meet, the places you have been. It's the journey you set to travel.

You just keep travelling down the road, aimlessly, down the winding roads. Sometimes you just want to stop, feeling such a burning pain that you wish to end it all and let yourself fall but you keep pedalling in fear of the pain of falling, or more so the result of falling. Other times you just want to keep pedalling, go faster and further than anyone before. You feel like you're flying that you're free from the endless grind of pedalling and pedalling and pedalling.Other times you just stop to look around you. You admire the view you know you can never settle down in. You admire the beauty of the endless fields you seem to encounter. You admire your life's work and the past. But you can never stay for long, in fear of time pedalling away too far and leaving you behind. You sometimes ask yourself if it's ever worth it, to stay with your merciless and cruel friend that seems to never stop. Still, you always follow, you'll follow time to your destination.

As you get closer and closer to your destination, you start to realise it wasn't the destination you were chasing at all, it was the journey. And you realise your destination is Death and you embrace it as your old friend, the thing that you were told to fear most when you started your journey. Because you realise it has never been about the destination, or how much land you covered, or how fast you went, it was about the journey and the road there, the pain you felt, the peace that was given to you. You realise that it doesn't matter that you never reached your "destination" that you so desired, it was about the road on the way there. As you embrace Death and walk off your bike, you see time leaving you behind. And it no longer mattered. You embrace Death as you two walk away from the road and towards the unknown." - Alltieo| Twitter: Alltieo

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We're all fighting our own battles. Stay strong, cherish the journey.