DreamSMP one-shots ||

// Im sorry, son //

ANGST THAT ISNT TOMMY & TUBBO?? POG??

Basically Wilbur blowing up L'Manburg but with my own twists/details :)

(back to 3rd person pov)
CW/TW: Terrorism, murder/death, blood
~

     Wilbur stood in the middle of a dimly lit cement room that was in the side of a mountain, hidden a little less than a mile away from L'Manburg. The room was barren; one lit torch on the wall to his left, a chair standing on the ground behind him. Sharply carved into the four walls of cement room were lyrics of the L'Manburg anthem, which happened to be written by Wilbur himself.
     Three feet in front of him at chest level, sticking out of the wall was a button. The button was connected to redstone that went for a mile, that happened to be connected to hundreds of thousands of bundles of TNT; TNT that laid only a few feet below the whole stretch of L'Manburg.
     DreamSMP and Pogtopia were in the middle of war, but Wilbur had snuck off stealthily to return to the room. He had business to take care of, business he was finally going to go through with.
     He stared at the button, beginning to dissociate. He bit his lip and dug his fingernails into his palms to stay grounded, but nothing in this moment felt real to him. He had wanted to push this button for so long, and never got the chance. That is, till this moment.
     It was almost as if the button was calling for him, telling him how desperately it needed to be pushed, whispering his name.
     He sighed, swallowing thick saliva. He knew he'd be hated by everyone if he went through with this, but it was what he wanted, right?
     After all, if he couldn't have L'Manburg, nobody could.
     This was it. He stepped forward, reaching his hand out-
     "Wilbur?" A voiced asked behind him. He gasped in surprise, spinning around. Before him stood his father, Phil, who did not look happy.
     "What- what are you doing here?" Wilbur asked, a hand over his chest as his heart beat quickened.
     "I could ask you the same. What the hell are you doing, Will?" Phil asked, eyes full of serious concern.
     "I... I was just..." Phil wasnt supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to see this.
     "Will, dont do this. Think about everyone else, everyone you've ever cared about, dont be so selfish!" Phil said.
     Wilbur looked to his feet in frustration. Phil being in his presence had thrown him off completely. He had no choice but to block out any emotion he had in the moment, and make himself numb. He was going to go through with this, whether Phil was there or not.
     "I have to do this, Phil. You know I do." Will said, turning his back to the older man. He paused. Phil wanted to try and stop him, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to move.
     "Don't you know?... It was never meant to be." Wilbur said,  taking a step forward.
     "NO!" Phil shouted, but it was too late. Wilbur had pushed the button.
     In seconds, the TNT was set off. Phil stepped back shielding himself, but Wilbur was thrown back in the explosion, hitting the wall behind him that Phil was pressed up against.
     The TNT had blown up the majority of L'Manburg, taking many lives with it. It had blown up the mountain that the cement room was in as well, taking off the front half of it that was facing L'Manburg.
     After the final bundle had gone off, Phil stared at the destruction. L'Manburg was nothing but a large crater; the place in ruins. Fires burned in random places, dead bodies laid lifeless in debris. Phil couldn't believe it: that one push of a button could cause this much destruction, let alone that it was his own son's fault.
     Wilbur groaned in pain, sitting on the floor at Phil's feet against the wall. Phil was brought back to reality, looking down at the brunette as he held his head in pain.
     "Will..." Phil held a hand over his mouth, tears brimming at his eyes.
     "Holy fuck.." Wilbur said, seeing the damage in front of him. They had a perfect view of the entire place, or what was left of it. He looked up at Phil, who had reached a hand down for Wilbur to take.
     Hesitantly, Wilbur took it, Phil pulling him to his feet. They looked into eachother's eyes; Wilbur's face serious, while tears slipped from Phil's eyes.
     Phil was angry, angry at his son, angry at himself. He wasnt thinking straight, and his head hurt like hell.
     The man rested his left hand on his son's right shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. Wilbur went to embrace his father, but Phil had already pulled his sword from the sheath that was connected to his waist. Just as Wilbur rested his head on Phil's shoulder, Phil stabbed the sharp sword straight through his own son's abdomen.
     Wilbur inhaled sharply shoving Phil away, but it was too late for him. Phil stepped back, shocked at what he had just done. The two stared down at the netherite sword penetrating the younger man, blood seeping from the wound. 
     Wilbur was in shock as well, adrenaline rushing through him causing him to feel hardly any pain, that is, until he went to remove the sword.
     He slowly reached his hand down to the grip of the weapon, and in one swift motion he yanked it away from himself; screaming in pain, and dropping the blood covered sword to the floor.
     Wilbur held the wound with his left hand, his legs giving out from under him. Phil stepped forward and caught Will in his arms, as they sunk to the floor on their knees.
     "D- d- da- dad?" Wilbur asked frantically through short breaths, gripping into Phil's arm with his right hand; his other hand still gripping his stomach painfully. Blood flew from his mouth as he coughed and sputtered, and the crimson liquid began to coat the floor beneath the two, as well as their clothes and hands.
     "Shh.." Phil tried to calm Wilbur in his last moments, holding him close. Phil knew he had to kill him, he knew he did, but it still hurt like hell. Wilbur was one of his sons, and he loved him, but he could never forgive him for what he had just done, and he needed to avenge the people of L'Manburg. He didn't want to admit it, but Wilbur deserved this.
     Phil gripped onto his boy hugging him tight, until just moments later the brunette went limp, sighing his very last breath. He was gone.
     "Im sorry, son." Phil whispered, not letting go.