Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Lads on tour!” Ghostbur keeps chanting, but Tommy is having none of it, although he doesn’t respond. He does think of it, though, a thousand ways to tell the ghost to just stop running through his mind. He isn’t doing anything wrong, of course, but the unnatural excitement at this situation is just making Tommy feel angrier and more upset than he already is. Maybe he’s jealous that Ghostbur finds joy in the small things, like the bees landing on the cornflowers, or the gathering clouds above their heads. Maybe he’s jealous that Ghostbur is happy at all.

“It’s like we’re in a band! Who do you think we’ll meet on our tour, Tommy?”

 “Wil, can you quit that?” Tommy thinks, but it’s not like him. Too nice.

“Shut up.” Better.

“Look, we aren’t on tour or on a holiday or anything like that. We’re alone in the middle of nowhere and if you don’t shut it I’ll leave you alone in that cave-” That’s the one (he adds on the cave bit when he sees one). But when he turns around and goes to repeat that out loud, something stops him.

“Look, we aren’t on tour, or on a holiday, or…” He trails off because Wil- Ghostbur is looking at him with such confusion and sadness and gripping a little blue flower he picked up so tight the stem snaps, and his face falls even more.

“But… but this is a fun time, right?”

Tommy decides in that moment doesn’t want to ruin Ghostbur’s happiness when it won’t even bring back his own. And that’s not very Tommy-like, but he doesn’t care. It’s not like there’s anyone here to see him be nice for once, so he just brushes it off and keeps trudging through the grass.

“Sorry Wil. Yeah, this is a holiday. We’ll have fun.”

He tells himself it was worth it just to hear Ghostbur’s next chant - “LADS ON TOUR TOGETHER!” - so much happier and fuller of energy than Tommy thinks he’ll ever be himself.

And he isn’t even dead.

“Oh, it’s raining!” Ghostbur declares as the first drops start to sizzle on his skin. He darts under the nearest tree, hardly fazed when some gets through the branches, but Tommy keeps walking. “Tommy come under here! It’s nice and cosy!”

The rain starts to trickle down his neck and he scowls when he shivers. He can hear Ghostbur calling him still but he wants to be as far away from everything as possible before they finally settle. They’re already so far out, he might as well distance himself even more from Dream. Green bastard, none of this would be happening if he didn’t exist. Me too, though. I did fuck up, even though my exile wasn’t fair, maybe I was causing problems-“

“You’re getting all wet!” He feels a cool hand on his shoulder and can hear the hissing again.

“You’ll melt, go back,” Tommy mutters, and shivers again, but Ghostbur is having none of it.

“No, you come back too, please Tommy. You’re cold!” And before he can refuse again, he’s gently pushed under another tree with the ghost, who looks up at the branches. “I liked my other tree better but this one is okay.”

Tommy just nods and lets himself lean back against the rough bark, watching Ghostbur trying to tie bows with of some blades of grass.

And he won’t say it, at least not for a long time, but he’s thankful that someone cares.