[Discontinued] The Things Left

8. Fire And Ashes

» Word count: 2,119 «

The sun was still in its early stages when they finished feeding the pets and grooming them. He wondered how those two years had been like that, if H taught them to behave. He wondered if that was time he would never get back. Eret, Niki and Tubbo, surprisingly with Tommy, came by again. The tiny house was packed now, even laughter seemed to calmly return to normalcy. And to all, the familiar feeling was filled with dust. An old book that was tucked away finally seeing daylight once again. How uncomfortable yet necessary things to have back.

Together they walked to camp, where they would have breakfast together like usual. It was one of those times where it became obvious that they were split, amicable with cracks too big to fix. Instinctively he held H's hand tighter, what had their world and friends become?

Breakfast was usually quiet and gloomy, just like when he walked through the DSMP. The silence was screaming things he wasn't paying attention to, his own questions were part of the mess too. Even lingering ghosts of their laughing remained, lost in a place that wasn't home. His face ache with the need to smile, just like back in H's place. These people were friends at some point, now mere beings that fell from each other. He let go of H's hand, instantly missing the touch of someone else. He understood the lingering, everyone was reaching for every moment together yet always unable to walk past the line of guilt and apologies. How ironic, both funny and sad, that even with his return things would never quite be the same. He didn't want to think about it. Two tears was a long time to be gone, and there was plenty to fill in.

He walked to Wilbur, seeing a man he had never seen.

“I’m kinda sad you didn’t spend your first night back with me!” Wilbur made a drama out of nothing, making light of the situation, and ignoring the elephant in the clearing. What he said was true, to an extent at least. He smiled when everyone was looking, the murmurs and hush voices falling quiet now. “I thought that you’d come running back to me. I hope that you’d at least miss me.”

“If you keep that up I’m running away again…” Fundy frowned, rolling his eyes at Wilbur. They laughed, and he did too a while after. He shook his head slightly.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be doing any of that any time soon,” Dream spoke with a tinge of mockery in his voice.

"Sounds like a threat to me," Fundy smirked with a vague gesture. He glanced at him, joined by Sapnap and George. They looked very changed, he couldn't quite pinpoint. "Anyways, to questions."

"He's Philza, your grandpa."

Fundy narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. The maths didn't add up. Nothing ever adds up, truly. So whatever.

"Cool. I will inquire later, if I remember."

"Next question?"

"Where's Schlatt?"

Wilbur froze.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking of that name for ever, and it would have been an even greater lie if he said he could answer.

From the afar, he could see fire rain down. He began breathing ashes. To think that one day they lived together with friendly fights and petty arguments. To think that the DSMP and L’manburg were the biggest splits. To think that a tyrant could break what was shattered. To think that betrayal and backstab wasn’t enough. They never learn, they didn’t before.

He blinked, his son standing in front of him now. Yes, it was him. In flesh and bones. The scenery wasn't a burning forest, and the air didn't taste like ash. The sky was clear and the birds were singing their songs. He looked at his hands, clean with no trace of blood staining.