Dream SMP and Other MCYT Oneshots

The Light- Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, + Ghost!Tubbo

No ship, just the angstiest fluff y'all have ever seen.
TW: Ghost!Tubbo, major character death, swearing (lots of it)

The sound of violent sobbing was heard throughout the house. Wilbur felt his heart break over and over again, hearing his brother in so much pain. It was two days after Tubbo's tragic death, and every night since had been the same.

Tommy had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He wasn't eating, going outside, or even speaking to anyone. Wilbur tried desperately to talk to him, maybe let him vent and get his feelings out, but Tommy ran to his room and slammed the door in Wilbur's face every time. It would take time to heal. Everyone would feel better one day, but Tommy's road to recovery would be a rough one.

It was two in the morning. Wilbur stood outside Tommy's door, considering knocking, trying to talk to him, or maybe offering him some sleeping meds so he could get even a blink of rest. Before his knuckles could hit the door, it swung open and his eyes made contact with Tommy's tired, bloodshot ones.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm just checking on you. How'd you know?" Wilbur asked.

"You're loud as shit. I heard your footsteps," Tommy said bluntly, and that was the end of the conversation. The door slammed in Wilbur's face again and he sighed before returning to his room.

Tommy fell to the floor moments after, adjusting to lay against the closed door. He held his hand over his mouth as if it did anything to quiet his sobs. Tubbo was all he could think about. His bright, genuine smile that he wore throughout his life was such a contrast compared to his cold and lifeless body, the last thing Tommy ever saw of his best friend. He watched him die. He watched him take his last breath and he couldn't do anything about it. He never even got to say goodbye.

Sometimes it felt like he could still hear his voice.

"You spin me right round, baby, right round..."

Wait a minute.

Tommy glanced in the direction of the sound. It couldn't have been his imagination. It sounded exactly like his deceased friend. He felt like he was going insane as, obviously, there was nothing there. Tommy cautiously approached the space where he was certain he'd heard the noise. Upon placing his ear against the wall, he scrambled away and out of his room to the laundry room next door. Whatever the sound was, it was coming from there.

He practically threw the laundry room door open, and was sure that his eyes were deceiving him when he made eye contact with a translucent Tubbo, sitting cross-legged on the washing machine half-way through a song lyric.

"Like a record, baby-" He stopped when he noticed Tommy staring at him, just as shocked as he was.

Tommy stuttered over the beginning of a sentence that he didn't know how to form. This couldn't be real.

"You- you can see me?" The figment of his imagination asked. Tommy was beginning to think that it wasn't his imagination after all.

"What the- what the fuck. What the fuck is going on?" He responded, voice just above a whisper as he gently closed the door behind him, a stark contrast to the panic and confusion evident on his face.

Tubbo made a move to hop off of the washing machine, but rooted himself in place when Tommy flinched back, as if what was in front of him was still playing tricks on his eyes.

"Fuck, Tommy. If I knew you could see me I wouldn't have come here...I just didn't know where to go and I wanted to see you and Wilbur again-"

"Hold on. Just shut up for a second."