Chapter Text
Who decides who gets to live and who gets to die?
Tommy and Wilbur sprinted through the woods, the sounds of crossbows being drawn following them like a nightmare does when you wake up. Wilbur’s grip was tight on Tommy’s wrist as he basically dragged the younger behind him.
Ash rained down as the L’Manburg flag burned but they couldn’t stop because if they did, the arrows would rain down like the ash and Tommy and Wilbur didn’t know if they dodge that. Schlatt’s laugh rang in their ears as they fled for their lives.
Is it us who decides with our choices and your words or is out of our reach, always out of our reach?
“Go, go, go,” Wilbur yelled, yanking Tommy to the side as a flaming arrow flew past the teenager, narrowly missing him. The arrow hit a bush, causing it to be engulfed in flames and the two exiles pushed themselves out of the way.
“No shit, Wilbur!” Tommy yelled back and they continued to run, run away from the country they built from the ground up. They were running away from everything they knew. “Wilbur, watch out!”
Then again, everyone has to die sometime. That’s the one thing that is constant.
More arrows flew past them as they sprinted deeper and deeper into the woods. Soon, the surroundings stopped being familiar as they ventured more deeper into the unknown.
And still, they were chased by people who once saw them as leaders and then turned their backs on them as soon they lost the power. They wouldn’t stop until Wilbur and Tommy were gone, all for the new leader.
Everyone will die. Might as well accept it.
“Tommy, no!” Wilbur jumped in front of Tommy at the last second and in slow motion, Tommy watched the arrow embed itself into the former president’s stomach. Screaming, Tommy reached out to catch him and it was like he could only watch as Wilbur fell.
Fell like L’Manburg.
Everyone will fall. Might as well accept it.
Wilbur hit the ground hard and Tommy fell to his knees next to him, gripping Wilbur’s jacket tightly. The blood started to seep into the blue cloth as Tommy pressed roughly against the wound, ignoring Wilbur’s whimper.
“You gotta go, Tommy,” Wilbur whispered, staring at his brother in all but blood. “You have to go.”
Everyone will leave. Might as well accept it.
“I’m not going to leave you, Wilbur,” Tommy tugged Wilbur half-way onto his lap, pressing down harder on the wound as he tried to stop the bleeding, tried to save him. “I’m just not gonna leave you.”
“You have to,” Wilbur screwed his eyes shut in pain. “Go, Tommy, they can’t catch you.”
Everyone will lose. Might as well accept it.
“Go and find safety,” Wilbur whispered. “Call Techno, call Phil and try and get L’Manburg back, okay? Get it back for me.”
“You’re not going to die, Wilbur,” Tommy lied.
You cannot change it; you cannot fight it.
The others were closing in, their voices merging together underneath the leaves. Tommy tried to ignore the tears streaming down his face as he gently picked Wilbur up, dragging him over to a tree and propping him up against it. The bush by the tree hid him from anyone’s eyes but Wilbur’s eyes started to drop.
“Promise me, Tommy,” Wilbur whispered. “That you’ll move on and not dwell on the past.”
It is simply fate; it is simply destiny.
“I promise, Wil,” Tommy tried to smile and Wilbur reached up to cradle Tommy’s face. The younger leaned into it, staring down at his brother. “I promise.”
“Go,” Was all Wilbur said before he dropped his hand. Tommy nodded and stood up, jogging away from Wilbur. But when he glanced back, Wilbur’s head was dropped and his eyes closed.
And your choices and your words cannot change that fate, that destiny,
Tommy choked back a sob, covering his mouth with his hand and he turned away. Trying to ignore the tears, he sprinted off, leaving Wilbur.
He ran and ran and ran, trying to get away, trying to ignore the fact that he was all alone. All alone in a world he’s barely seen, all alone with people chasing him, and all alone because the one person that said he would always be there was gone. He was gone.
All you can do is watch.
Later, the night would fall and would find Tommy tucked away in a small cave with nothing but the clothes on his back and a sword in his hands. He would be curled up in the dirt, trying to ignore the monsters outside and trying to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. The sun would rise.
He would stay there for who knows how long, just trying to force himself to get back up and to search for Wilbur’s body but he couldn’t move and he couldn’t stand. And he couldn’t bear to go back out there and find Wilbur’s cold corpse.
All you can do is hope.
But unknown to Tommy, someone already found Wilbur. Someone already felt his cold wrist for a pulse and breathed out softly in relief when they did find one.
Someone already picked up his limp body and started to make their way out of the forest. Someone already hid when they saw stray people out, still looking for Tommy and for the body in their arms.
All you can do is pray.
Someone already brought Wilbur to a base, hidden away where only a few can find it. Someone already set him on a bed as another brought forward a potion. Someone already pulled out the arrow before quickly replacing it with a bandage.
Someone already soothed Wilbur when he whimpered in pain in his sleep. Someone already fed him food and made him drink water. Someone already watched over him during the night, hoping he survives.
It’s like putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger.
“Why did you bring him to me, Eret?”
Eret glanced up from where they stared at the sleeping Wilbur, eyes boring into the lifeless eyes of Dream’s mask. They just shrugged before looking back down, dabbing Wilbur’s forehead with a damp cloth.
“You’re the only person I know who wouldn’t turn away a traitor and an exile.”
There is always a chance that you might get a bullet, not a blank.