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It's not your time to die yet, Tommy.
It's never my time to die.
In Tommy's eyes, there was sort of an irony in it all. Where he had been before, with Dream telling him that it wasn't his time to die that first day (or was it second? Tommy couldn't really truly remember time anymore) to now. Now he had decided that maybe, in fact, it was his time to die. To surrender it all- because there was nothing truly worth it anymore. Staring out into the crackling lake of lava in front of him, the bright hues and orange glow pulling him into an almost lulling trance, no one there to save him from the fall this time. There was no Dream on the other side of the Nether portal that was just out of his view, no Sapnap and Ghostbur staring at the Dream SMP Christmas tree that could come through and save him in a heartbeat. There was no Ranboo, no Fundy, no person to stop him from doing what he was about to do.
There was just him, his feet dangling over the edge as he gripped the Your Tubbo compass inside of his hand. The soft purple glow of the compass seemed to be begging him to reconsider, to not do what he was trying to tell himself to do. To jump, to have the courage to stop living through the agony of being so close, yet so far to everything that he had once loved. No, that he did love.
But it wasn't like Tubbo was going to come and find him in this hell of a realm. It wasn't like he was going to do anything for him. He had exiled him, banished him from a country that he had helped create. After the sacrifices that Tommy had made for L'Manberg, after fighting to get it back from the reign of terror that Schlatt had brought upon their sacred nation, after the detonation of their country, Tubbo had left him to rot on his own. To wither away into nothingness, thousands and thousands of blocks away from anyone who would ever even consider thinking about him. He had left him to die on his own, never to return to those that he cared about. Or, at least, those he thought cared about him. Tommy knew now that there was really no one that cared about him too much on the SMP- the failed beach day proved that, and the lack of visitors in exile just continued to prove that fact.
Tommy wouldn't have done the same to Tubbo if the roles had reversed. Everyone knew that. Yet Tubbo had exiled him, kicked him out, never bothering to come and visit Tommy. Well, except for that one time that the teenager had hallucinated seeing him the day before the failure of the beach party. Tubbo didn't even come to the beach party, after Tommy was told that his best friend was personally told an invite was given to him by Wilbur. And even still, Dream had told him Tubbo had destroyed his compass a long time ago. And why would Dream lie? He was the only one that was brutally honest with Tommy, the only one who cared to visit. Even though Dream was literally the last person on the entire server that Tommy ever wanted to visit him.
It was funny that he was the only person that Tommy kind of truly trusted.
But regardless of who he trusted or not, who cared about him or not, the teenager just wanted to close his eyes and be done with all. But he had been sitting at the edge of the lava lake for what felt like hours, the bottoms of his already worn-out shoes singed and melting away. Tommy was just sitting at the edge, his thumb tracing the outline of the compass nervously as he tried to come to a decision. It was a sort of soothing gesture as two sides of his mind continued to fight with themselves inside of his head, his emotions doing nothing to help, just an empty void filled with nothing inside as he stared out at the dismal view of the Nether. He had thought his mind had been made up, but, well- he was still here, wasn't he?
"Why are you still even here?" A hostile voice asked the young man, Tommy jumping as he heard the voice, the teenager never being the best with jump scares and that sort of thing, almost losing his grip against the bridge. Regaining his composure, Tommy cleared his throat, looking to his right to see Dream sitting next to him, calmly perched over the lava, one knee bent next to his chest as the other dangled, the man's expression hard to trace from underneath the facade of the smile. He looked so nonchalant, so calm, as he asked a question that he knew would break the teenager that was sitting before him.
"What?" The young man croaked out, unaccustomed to using his voice, Tommy not finding much time to really talk anymore. There was just... silence and screaming. No more farming primes, no more obnoxious laughs than would take all of the breath out of his lungs. Tommy found no time for those sort of things anymore. The emptiness inside of him had consumed all of that, leaving behind a shell of the person that he once was. It was strange to keep saying that, to consider himself, well, empty, but there truly was no other way to describe what he had been feeling. Loneliness, maybe, but truly, it was just... nothing.
He had watched himself fade away slowly, watching the bright blue inside of his eyes slowly fade into a dull grey, the wonder and joy of life seeping out, just like the color. He had watched himself decay away, the bags underneath his eyes grow stronger and stronger as he could no longer find himself sleeping, staring up into the empty sky as Chirp softly played in the background and he thought about the emptiness of space and how it would feel to float up in the void of nothingness alongside that girl astronaut, Clara, that he had imagined so long ago when Bad had brought him the disk out of pity. He often now daydreamed about what it would be like to be drifting away into space, watching the white stars twinkling around him as he became weightless, the desire to join the astronaut in his imagination becoming stronger and stronger as Tommy began to wither away. He was a shell of a person he used to be, the laughter and the pranks of the man he used to be now filled with sullen silence.
"Why are you still here?" The voice slightly distorted, the strong American accent warping into the familiar tones of his friend Wilbur- not Ghostbur, but batshit crazy Wilbur, still dressed in the large brown trench coat with a crazed look in his eyes, a dark beanie covering his hair, huge bags much like Tommy's under his eyes. Staring into what his friend used to be, Tommy wondered how he had allowed himself to become so much like him. "You should just jump." The illusion of Wilbur flickered in and out with Dream's figure, almost like a glitch in his mind, the two people inside of Tommy's thoughts telling him the same exact thing. The two villains inside of his history in agreement.
"But-"
"Why not?" The figure in front of him transformed back into Dream, his head tilting to the side as he posed the question, almost like a dog that was curious as to what the answer that Tommy would respond with. "It's not like you have that much to live for." Dream plainly stated, his voice cold and unforgiving as the truth cut through Tommy like a knife, piercing his heart and any glimmer of hope that had been inside of his chest, replaced with a dull feeling of acknowledgment of the truth- that the man standing in front of him was right. "What is there to live for?" He offered up the question, waiting for Tommy to respond.
But Tommy couldn't really think of anything.
A pause. A small victory for Dream. A small smile formed on his face as he continued on. "You have nothing. No Tubbo, no L'Manberg, no discs, no power, no friends-" Dream counted out everything on his fingers, the list just going on and on and on. "All you have left is me. And that's a pretty pathetic list of things to live for, isn't it?" There was an emotionless laugh that escaped Dream's laugh as he shook his head, seeing Tommy slowly crumble and back away from him, realizing that he was getting through to him. "You don't have anything left, no true purpose in what you're doing. No one would ever care if you were gone. No one will notice. You're useless now that you're in exile, Tommy. Even I only come to visit you out of pity. To use you for what I need. You're nothing more than a pawn on a chess board."
"You failed your best friend." The figure warped again, this time back into the face of Wilbur, a cruel and villainous smile plastered across his face, reminding Tommy of the way things were before Wilbur had died. When he had let himself lose his fucking mind, when he said things without any regrets to who he would hurt. It was frightening to see in lieu of what Ghostbur now was, Tommy reminded of the horrors that he had lived and still continued to grapple with. "You failed your country, and I think we all know the truth in the words that I told you when I was still alive and kicking."
You're never going to be President, Tommy.
"So just jump." Wilbur whispered into Tommy's ear, the young man giving a shiver as he felt the words wiggle their way inside of his head, a chill rushing down his spine as his thoughts rattled around inside of his head, trying to grasp onto an answer in the depths of his mind, his emotions null in the argument as he could feel himself growing number and number. The words of his friend, the man he looked up to, began to influence him, his mind slowly starting to believe that the action of jumping would be the best thing for everyone. "It's not like anyone will really realize or care anyways."
"Jumping will end all of the problems you have, Tommy." It was Dream again, standing right behind Tommy, almost ready to push him himself. He could almost feel Dream's phantom hands resting on his shoulders, a slight pressure leaning him forward, to almost allow him to stumble and fall into the depths of the burning lava pit below."You know you'll never win the battle for the discs against me. Resistance is futile- you honestly think that you could ever stand a chance against me?" There was another short laugh, the familiar sound of Dream coming off cruel and unsympathetic. "You'll never win."
"So just jump." Wilbur and Dream's voices spoke in harmony, their tones blending together as Tommy could feel their presences around him fade into nothingness, the figments of his imagination disappearing as their points were made, as he slowly came to a decision that would get him off of this goddamn bridge. The only sound was that crackling and popping of the lava below, the air dead and stagnant inside of the hell-like Nether.
The quiet was suffocating, wrapping around Tommy and almost choking him, but Tommy didn't mind, strangely enough. It gave him clarity in that moment, allowing him to really think through that decision that he was about to make, the young man's hand twitching as it gripped the side of the bridge, his grasp slowly loosening as the air around him became easier to breath, a decision being somewhat made inside of that moment. The crossroads that he was at suddenly became less of one, there now really being much more of a right and a wrong path. An easy road and a hard road. A selfish path and a selfless one.
Taking a deep breath in, Tommy closed his eyes, trying to muster up the strength to give himself the push, to just end it all and-
"You're really not thinking of doing this, are you?" A voice questioned Tommy's actions as the young man gave a sharp exhale, realizing that he had been holding his breath for far too long. Giving a slight turn of his head, out of the corner of his eyes, Tommy could see the almost faint silhouette of his best friend- Tubbo. Another trick of his mind, trying to tell him some stupid advice before he came to terms with his own decision. "Because, well-" Tubbo hesitantly laughed, a nervous tone evident as he scratched the back of his head. "I think we both know that there's no coming back from this. You know this is your last one." His voice dropped immediately at the mention of the last life, his eyes almost begging Tommy to stop, to reconsider.
Almost as if Tubbo actually cared again.
Giving a groan, Tommy turned his attention back to the lava, his face molding into almost a wince as he shut his eyes again. He was tired of talking to fake illusions of people trying to influence his decision. "Go away." Then a pause, an almost hesitation before he spoke his next words, almost hating the fact that what he was about to say was true. "I know you're not real. I know you're just a hallucination, just like the day before the beach party." He muttered, shaking his head, trying to tell his brain to snap out of it. "You're not actually here." Giving a quick glance back at where the almost hologram-like figure was, Tommy could see the image flicker, almost glitching out in front of him. Shaking his head with a sigh, Tommy turned his gaze back to lava. "Told you. Just a part of my fucked up mind." He gestured to his head with his pointer and middle finger, making a sort of circular motion that was like the childish way that one would normally indicate someone being crazy.
"Well, if I'm a part of your mind, that obviously means that there's a part of you that doesn't want to do this then, huh?" Tommy could hear in Tubbo's voice that his eyebrow was arched, his hands crossed across his chest. He knew his best friend was right of course, like he was about almost everything that he said about Tommy, but there was no way that Tommy would actually accept it to be true. But Tommy didn't want to accept that, not when he was at a crossroads that was so consequential at this one. He desired no outside input, and yet that seemed to be all that he was getting. This was his decision to make, his life on the line. Yet his mind kept pushing others onto him, this time it being Tubbo. "So then why are you here?"
"Because!-" Tommy shouted, standing up from his seated position on the bridge, his back facing the lava lake now. He could feel the blistering heat of the lake right up against the holes of his shirt, the warmth almost fueling the fire that was inside of his heart as he was arguing with a figment of his mind. "Because I'm tired, Tubbo. The War for L'Manberg's Independence, the election, Pogtopia, Wilbur blowing L'Manberg up after we just had gotten it back, Technoblade-" His voice cracked as he shouting, the teenager losing his composure as he continued to talk. "All of it was exhausting. But as long as I had the disks, and as long as I had you-" The young man stopped, giving a sigh as he stared at the Tubbo of his mind, the both of them knowing exactly what he was going to say next.
"That was all that I needed."
"But you still have me, Tommy."
"Do I?" Tommy laughed, his voice sharp and cruel as his tone grew colder and colder. "Because you haven't visited me- once. There's been a bridge through the nether for weeks, Tubbo. Weeks. I've destroyed it and rebuilt it over and over again. Day after day. Week after week. And yet, there's no visit from Tubbo. No care for your best friend, huh? Would much rather sit around your country and do useless and menial tasks than fucking come and visit. You know for damn sure if it was the other way around, I would have been with you every damn day. If I had even exiled you in the first place. And not to mention the fucking compass. You threw it away- like it was some piece of garbage that you didn't even want to associate yourself with!"
"That's not true !"
"Isn't it?" He shouted, feeling the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. Tommy was so close to losing it, the last bit of hope inside of him shimmering away as he took his anger out on Tubbo, trying to get the closure that he knew that he would never get in reality. He was arguing with a figment of his own mind, searching for clarity in a world full of murky answers. He was searching for closure that would never happen. "I know what Dream told me. I know what Ranboo told me. Accident or not, the compass is fucking gone. It's nothing! And doesn't that mean something? Doesn't that mean anything to you? Do you even fucking care?"
"Of course I care!" The fragment of Tubbo screamed back at Tommy, taking the young man aback. "Do you know how much I regret my decision, every damn day? Every day that I wake up in L'Manberg and see you not there? The fact that you can't be there for me and be my Vice President? To be my best friend? To have you by my side? To have you defend me when my cabinet accuses me of being Schlatt, the man that made me decorate my own funeral? Do you know how badly I want it to be us against the world again, Tommy? How I just want to leave it all behind? But I can't. I have an obligation, Tommy. I can't just drop everything for you. I have an obligation to-"
"To your country, yeah." Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes at the idea of holding a nation, holding an ideal of a country higher up than your best friend. How could Tubbo ever even begin to do that? "I would've sacrificed everything inside of L'Manberg for you, Tubbo. I would've let the entire country go to waste if it meant I still had you. But it's been nice to know that the feeling wasn't every reciprocated. Makes this goodbye easier." He muttered, turning his back to Tubbo, not bearing to look into his eyes to see the sadness and desperation inside of him.
"Tommy, wait-"
"Goodbye, Tubbo." Tommy closed his eyes, trying to force the figure of his best friend away in his mind, his feet inching ever so slowly closer towards the edge of the clifflike bridge, trying to force himself to make a decision. But there was a firm grasp on his arm, warm, real, and physical contact against his skin, something that he didn't truly believe to be possible from a figment of his imagination.
"No, Tommy. You still have so much to live for." Tubbo yanked him back from the edge, forcing Tommy to stumble a couple of footsteps away from the edge, the teenager still bewildered by the fact that a figment of his imagination had been able to pull him away from the edge, not realizing that maybe it was himself just forcing him to reconsider the decision that he was about to make. "You have the discs, you have-"
"The discs don't matter anymore." Tommy gave a scoff, unsure why this part of his mind wanted him to so desperately stay. He was starting to think that maybe that side of him that had allowed Wilbur and Dream to appear in front of him was right. What was there to live for? There was truly nothing left for him here. And so what if this was his last life? Not like many people left on the SMP truly cared what he did, or if he lived or died. Dream and Wilbur had made that oh so evident, and the people inside of the SMP had even shown him that.
In fact, most people would probably be grateful that he was gone. No more wars, no more trouble with Dream or any of his allies, no more loud and obnoxious children to worry about. No more swearing out BadBoyHalo, no more griefing or burning down people's houses. No more problems because of Tommyinnit.
"That's right." The silhouette of Dream formed again beside Tubbo, looking back and forth between the two teenagers. There was a slight look of shock from Tubbo as the man appeared in front of the two, but there was no reaction from Tommy- exactly what the figment of Tommy's imagination wanted."Nothing matters anymore. You know what the right decision here is, Tommy. You know that you have to jump."
"Tommy, no. Don't believe that." Tubbo pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation. He knew that this situation was do or die, that the decision would cost him his best friend. Tommy's own mind knew that there were better ways to go about this. "We can still fight. Keep that flame alive. Get the discs back and keep L'Manberg safe. We can compromise, work this out, you just have to-"
"Keep fighting?" Wilbur questioned, slowly appearing on the other side of Tubbo, looking at him through a villainous stare, giving a sharp scoff. "That's funny. Considering that you'd be going up against the all powerful god of this server, my good friend Dream over there. You honestly think that you stand a chance? Tommy." He turned to the teenager, his eyes staring into his soul. "Tubbo cares more about the country. We know this. L'Manberg was blown to smithereens by me after we had won a war. If you go to war with Dream, for the disks, L'Manberg will be blown up or burned down- collateral damage in this fight. Do you honestly think that Tubbo would give that up, just for you?" He turned and almost spat at Tubbo with hostility that Tommy hadn't seen before.
"Tommy, no. Please, you have to stay-"
"Jump, Tommy-"
"There's no reason to live."
"Shut up." Tommy muttered, his mind racing, overwhelmed by the thoughts that were overflowing in his mind on top of the three silhouettes in front of him that continued to argue about the decision that he was going to be making, on what the best course of action would be for him. They were part of his own mind, but also living people in front of him, trying to force for control of his life.
"Tommy, please stay-"
"Jump."
"What are you waiting for?"
"I said, shut up!" Tommy snapped, the three falling silent, allowing him some rest for the first time since the three had appeared in front of him. The silence was freeing, a breath of fresh air amongst the heat and the hostility in the conversation, and the natural environment of the Nether. In some way, Tommy wondered that if this is what death felt like. A never-ending breath of fresh air, the feeling of finally having tension dissolved. A silence that felt calm, a burden off of one's shoulders.
In the eye of a hurricane, it is quiet.
In that moment, the silence reminded Tommy of a song from Hamilton that Wilbur had so desperately tried to get him to love. Tommy hated the song, not seeing any relevance as to why the eye of a hurricane would feel quiet and peaceful when the natural disaster brought so much destruction, terror, and horror with it. He had seen nothing but the negatives of such a horrible thing. But now, now that he was in some sort of eye of his own hurricane, he supposed that it made some sort of sense.
In the eye of a hurricane, it is quiet.
The wars, the destruction, the pain that he had fought through to get to this eye of the hurricane made sense now, in a way. The peace inside was freeing, the silence golden. Tommy had never really understood why the eye of a hurricane could be appealing or silence golden before, but in this moment, it all clicked. It had all come together for him. The crossroads that he had once been at easier to make a decision on what path to go down. The hurricane was nothing but a clear sky in the center, hard to get through the musty clouds and struggles that one had to persevere through to get there. But once you did? It was worth all of the time that it took to get there.
In the eye of a hurricane, it is quiet.
In the eye of a hurricane, you could drift away, the destruction around you that brought so much death and so much horror to your life insignificant as you rose above it. The silence was peaceful, freeing. It was like floating away into space like he had imagined that girl astronaut Clara did, the void of deep black nothing in space allowing you to float away and stare at the bright twinkling stars. It was freedom, and escape from everything that had ever plagued and worried Tommy. It was an escape into an endless world of beauty and a place where he could be drifting away, at peace with himself. If death was a breath of fresh air, endlessly drifting off into space for eternity, maybe that was better than sticking it out, fighting through so much more pain and fury and emotion.
In the eye of a hurricane, it is quiet.
A deep breath in.
A deep breath out.
And Tommy spoke.
"You know what? I finally believe Technoblade." Tommy laughed coldly, feeling his feet slowly back himself towards the edge. "The story of Theseus? The one that he used as the example? The story that I've been following in some sort of twisted way? The warning that he gave me before the Withers spawned and everything started to fall apart before our eyes? He was right." Tears started to streak down Tommy's face as he stared at the three figments of his imagination- Dream, Wilbur, and Tubbo, his look one of defeat, tired of trying to fight against the truth of the words that he had heard so long ago. He could feel the edges of his heels almost teeter off of the edge into the nothingness of the air that was underneath the bridge, the lake of lava the only thing to catch him if he fell. There would be nothing, falling into the void, forever floating away into a place of quiet. The eye of the hurricane.
"Heroes don't get happy endings."
Tommy let himself go.