Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tubbo’s head was pulsating like crazy when he woke up, and that was only the second-worst thing about his situation. He was sitting in a small and filthy cage, experiencing one of the worst headaches of his life, and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Wilbur’s smug expression, quickly followed by Dream’s ugly ass mask.

He’d suspected for a while that the two of them were off working together. Tommy hadn’t wanted to believe it, but even he had admitted that he found the way his pseudo-brother just disappeared one day a bit odd. And also that he found the way Wilbur seemingly worshiped Dream for bringing him back from the dead unsettling. His friend had just refused to connect the dots. But Tubbo had no reason to bury his head in the sand about it. He had no attachment to his former president, and he never had any for the green bastard who ruined his life and the lives of all of those he cared about. As far as he was concerned, he would have been much happier had they both been burning in Hell.

The fact that he’d been right about them working together, however, didn’t change his displeasure with the situation at hand. Especially because his best friend wasn’t there, so he couldn’t even gloat about it.

Speaking of… it was a bit weird that Tommy wasn’t there.

Dream had made it clear countless times that the other teen was the only thing (because that’s what he saw Tommy as, an object, not a person) he gave a flying fuck about. And Tubbo and Wilbur just weren’t all that close. They’d been like family once upon a time. Back when the older had been someone he could respect. Someone who stood for something worthwhile. But that relationship had been buried far into the past. Currently, the only thing the two of them shared was an attachment to Tommy.

So why was he the one who’d gotten kidnapped?

They’d waited for him right outside of his lab (he knew that because his last memory before losing consciousness was that he hoped that his best friend wouldn’t notice him sneaking back into the mansion to steal some coffee in the middle of the night like a little gremlin), so it wasn’t even as if they’d gotten the wrong person by accident. Tommy never went in there. All the science-y stuff going on in that building gave him a headache, or so he claimed.

Instead of letting his thoughts run in circles in search of an answer he didn’t have, he decided to just ask for an explanation outright. The worst that could happen was that they lied to him about it, and he was ready for that. Readier for that than for the truth, to be honest. “So… why did you two bring me here?”. He made sure to steer clear of the big ‘K’ word. He knew that Dream especially had a very fragile ego. From what Tommy had told him about his many conversations with the man, he viewed himself as some sort of hero (maybe even as a god). So, outright accusing him of a crime wasn’t likely to get Tubbo anything but his anger.

Wilbur was more reasonable from that point of view; Tubbo was willing to give him that. He had never deluded himself into believing that he was saving the world when he was committing acts of terrorism. He knew that he was rotten to the core, and he embraced that. Perhaps with a bit too much fervor.

“You’re our new bait” Dream declared triumphantly.

“What happened to your last one?” he found himself asking. He didn’t need to hear them explain what- or better, who they were trying to lure in. He knew. There were quite a few people out there who would have been willing to go to his rescue. The ghost of his spouse, Jack Manifold, probably Technoblade now that they’d made amends… but none of them mattered to the two men in front of him. The only one that mattered was the one who would probably busy himself rallying the troops as soon as he noticed Tubbo’s absence: Tommy.

Everything was always about Tommy with them. Mainly with Dream. He didn’t remember Wilbur being quite so single-minded before. There used to be a lot more people he held dear back in the days. Niki was his best friend. Once upon a time, they used to spend all their free time together. And Fundy, his son, had once been his whole world. Where had those bonds gone?

Time sure did change people a lot. 

Tubbo himself was no longer the same people pleaser he’d been pushed to be in his childhood. He was stronger now, more confident. He was also more guarded, less trusting, and more hurt. Not all developments in his character had been positive. It would have been hard to come out of several wars as a better person. If anybody claimed they had, they were probably just as deluded as Dream.

Wilbur grimaced in response to his question. “It didn’t work” he answered flatly.

Dream let out a huff. “I said it that we had to go with Tubbo from the start. Even when we were having fun in exile, Tommy wouldn’t stop mentioning him”. Even with his face fully concealed, Tubbo could hear the frown in the green bastard’s voice, and he could easily imagine him rolling his eyes at the memory. The concept of the two of them having a genuine friendship and still caring about each other through the worst of times was alien to him. “I swear, Tubbo is all he talks about sometimes. It’s like he’s obsessed!”. That last part was very ironic, coming from Dream of all people. He was the last person who could afford to judge others for the intensity of their attachments.

Besides, Tubbo was pretty sure that his interpretation of the situation wasn’t entirely accurate.

He and Tommy were closer than they should have been; that was undeniable. For a long time, they’d only been able to rely on each other. Even now, they didn’t really have anybody else. Ranboo was dead. Sam had killed them, and Dream didn’t seem all that inclined to bring them back (they used to work together at some point, Ghostboo had cheerily admitted to it. But that had never mattered to the masked man, had it? Not even with Sapnap and George, who'd once called themselves his friends...). Michael was still too small to be able to support them in any way. He was a toddler; they couldn’t lay their burdens at his feet. The other inhabitants of Snowchester had their own things going on. They had plenty to worry about, especially now that Dream walked free; they didn’t need the stress of looking after two traumatized teenagers on top of it all. And their relationship with Techno and Phil was still a tentative one, born more of mutual convenience than affection or respect.

Under those circumstances, it was obvious that he and Tommy would come to depend on each other for everything. And, of course, in moments of distress, who else was there for them to think of and call out to? Were they supposed to rely on the adults who let them down again and again?

What they had for each other wasn’t obsession; it was a desperate need for companionship and support.

Instead of pointing out any of that, Wilbur sighed and nodded. Agreeing with Dream, like the blind follower that he was. “It’s always been like that” he muttered bitterly, throwing a resentful glance in Tubbo’s direction. “He should have followed me on the sixteenth, not you”.

He refused to think about the meaning behind those words. They didn’t feel like something he should have heard. The feelings behind them would have been better unspoken and buried. However, the only thing he could do now that they hung in the air was leave them unacknowledged.

Dream wasn’t of the same opinion, unfortunately. “I wouldn’t have let him” he stated firmly. All the childish annoyance from earlier was gone from his tone, replaced by something darker. Possessiveness maybe. Or that need for control that had consumed him long ago. It was always hard to tell with him. Partially because of the physical mask he wore, which made him hard to read, and partially because every time Tubbo met him, he was a different person. Always donning a different face. He didn’t even know if there was a real him buried underneath it all. But, if there was, he doubted he would be allowed to see it. He was but a minor inconvenience in the man’s mind. “It wasn’t his time to die yet. It would have served no purpose” he continued solemnly. The weird inflection he gave to the first sentence made it sound as if that wasn’t the first time he spoke those words. And also as if they weren’t the intended audience for them.

For a moment, it looked as if Wilbur was gonna argue against that point, but he ended up biting his tongue.

Still, even if he had managed to keep his mouth shut that time around, Tubbo figured that he could use that tension he'd just sensed. If he pushed them just right, perhaps he could cause a fight between them. And that would be the perfect opportunity for him to break out of his cage and make a run for it.

It wasn’t a properly thought-out plan, but it was all he had for the time being.

“Right, right. So… what’s your guys’ plan for when Tommy does come to rescue me?”. If they couldn’t even agree on what should have happened in the past, it seemed plausible enough to assume that they hadn’t discussed their plans for the future in depth. Sure, they shared a short-term goal, but would that be enough to keep them together? Tubbo hoped that the answer to that question would be a resounding ‘No’.

The two men who had kidnapped him suddenly looked like lost kids. They exchanged some empty glances; there wasn’t enough complicity between them for them to wordlessly understand one another, and they both straightened themselves up, as if preparing for a fight. It was amusing to see them so startled by such a simple inquiry.

“We’re gonna be immortal together, of course-” Dream hesitantly boasted. Only to immediately be interrupted by Wilbur, who seemed to find that idea ridiculous. “Tommy would never agree to that!” the ex-president correctly pointed out.

Unfortunately, if there was one thing Tubbo had learned about Dream, it was that he didn’t really care about what Tommy wanted. His obsession with the teen was genuine, but it didn’t mean that he viewed him as deserving of respect, care, or happiness. To him, Tommy was still just a toy. Not a pawn like everybody else. He wasn’t only good for a single use and then ready to be discarded. But he was also far from an equal.

And, while his opinion on Wilbur was extremely low at the moment (he couldn’t respect someone who joined forces with Dream, no matter how ignorant he might have been about the guy’s crimes. Learning about those wasn’t difficult; everyone around them had horror stories they were dying to get off their chest), he still held a certain degree of certainty that he didn’t view others in that same utilitarian way.

That said, for as stubborn as Dream was, he also knew when to be patient. And, apparently, Wilbur hadn’t outlived his usefulness for him, because he shrugged and backed down from the argument instead of holding firm and putting him in his place, as he was more than capable of doing. “We’ll see” he said neutrally.

That wasn’t good enough.

Tubbo needed them to be at each other’s throats.

“Come on now, Dream… I thought you knew Tommy better than that. Wilbur’s been gone for years, and he still has you beat?”. Openly mocking such a dangerous individual wouldn’t have been the smartest move under most circumstances. But if Tubbo wanted to get out of there quickly, he needed to take some gambles. Big Q would have been proud of him.

Luckily, his gamble paid off.

Dream swirled toward him in an instant, hands balled into fists, shoulders tense, clearly ready to maul him. Instead of lunging at him and making him regret ever opening his mouth, however, he launched into a rant about how wrong he was. Which was a show of restraint he would have never thought the masked man capable of. Then again, it hadn’t been long since he’d been broken out of prison, and Tommy had mentioned that in a fleeting encounter he’d had with the man, he’d looked as if he’d been heavily mistreated for months. It was possible that he hadn’t recovered enough for a fight, even with someone he considered to be weak, like Tubbo.

“I’m the one who doesn’t know him?! Wilbur didn’t even know his favorite color until yesterday! He thought it was red, when to anyone who’s listened to him talk for, like, five minutes, it would be obvious that it’s blue. Specifically, lapis, because it reminds him of Ghostbur. And before that, it was cobalt!” the only time he slowed down during that speech was to make sure he imbued as much disgust as possible in the name of Wilbur’s old ghost. Otherwise, he didn’t once stop to breathe or to give himself the time to recall a specific detail. That was how ingrained every information he’d listed out was in his mind.

Now, Tubbo knew that Tommy’s favorite color had always been blue. It had come up a few times when they were kids, and they were just sitting around, waiting for the crops to grow, or for fish to repopulate the L’Manburg River. And then again recently, since they’d been trying to bond once more after all the asshole in their lives had driven a wedge between them. He never knew the specific shade, however, so he couldn’t attest to the veracity of that part. Although when Wilbur gave him a questioning glance, as if looking for confirmation, he didn’t hesitate to nod.

What he did or didn’t know wasn’t important. As long as he could be convincing enough to keep the pissing contest between his captors going, that was good enough for him.

Annoyed by his ignorance being brought to light, Wilbur stepped forward as well. One of his hands flew to his hair, which he then tugged on rather roughly, something he’d been doing since forever as a way to ground himself. He knew that he needed Dream for… whatever vague goal he’d set for himself. Mainly because he didn’t have Tommy at his disposal, and he’d never been capable enough to accomplish much by himself. But it was obvious that he was quickly approaching his breaking point.

It was bound to happen. Their alliance wasn’t one that could last, not when they both had such huge egos.

Still, pushing down his frustration, Wilbur plastered a condescending smile on his face before speaking: “I know all that actually matters about Tommy”. That claim earned him a scalding glare from Dream and a baffled look from Tubbo. It sounded as if he believed what he’d just said, but it was a bit of an open secret that L’Manburg’s first president had only ever been interested in getting to know himself, and he did even that poorly.

He hadn’t always been a bad guy. Tubbo wasn’t entirely convinced that he was one now, either… or, well, that he would have been one had he not decided to work with Dream of all people. But he had always had his flaws, just like everyone else. And his main one was definitely how self-centered he could be. It led directly to his mental health spiral and his conviction that he was the villain in a grand narrative instead of just a guy down on his luck. He’d made himself into a beast to be slain because he couldn’t stand being unimportant for even one moment.

The reason why he and Tommy worked together so well was that Tommy had started off as the exact opposite kind of person, just like Tubbo. Both of them, back then, had gravitated toward strong personalities. Charming people they could stand behind, and whose ideals made at least a modicum of sense. They were little kids still when L’Manburg had been founded, both of them around nine, so it wasn’t surprising that their judgment ended up being as flawed as it did. They both had grown and changed since, and likely wouldn’t have made the same choices now. But his best friend truly had been an exemplary right-hand man because of how willing he’d always been to push himself to the side and let others shine.

Had Dream not spoken first, Tubbo maybe would have tried to say something along those lines. But the masked man was fired up that day. “And what’s that?” he asked mockingly. “Do you know that he can’t fall asleep when he’s alone because of your insistence on the fact that L’Manburgians had to always stick together back when he was still a child? Or that he sleepwalks almost every night? Or that he’s been hallucinating various things since he lived with you in Pogtopia?”.

Tubbo would be the first to admit, if only in his mind, that he also didn’t know about two of those things. The sleepwalking would have been hard to miss now that they lived together. He’d installed some bells on the door of his best friend's bedroom just to make sure he didn’t find him drowning in the frozen sea in the morning, like on the first night. The rest, though? Yeah, he was gonna find a therapist for him to deal with those.

“Because, at the very least, I do know that Tommy doesn’t want to become immortal with me, I just also don’t care about it. I mean, if I gave a fuck about what he wants, I wouldn’t have done half the things I did” Dream continued, in a surprising show of self-awareness. He was low-balling how many things he would have had to do differently if he cared about Tommy, but it was still more introspection than Tubbo had been expecting from him. He was almost impressed. “But is there anything you actually know about him?” he concluded his rant, metaphorically throwing down a gauntlet between him and Wilbur.

The tentative peace that had been there earlier between them was all but shattered.

Their eyes were firmly planted on one another, and Tubbo took the chance to reach through the bars of his cage with one thin stick in each hand and start working on the lock. He’d never been great at lock-picking, but he knew the basics, and he figured he had the time to figure out the rest.

“Those are… they’re not things I knew about” Wilbur admitted, cautiously conceding that first point. Something akin to guilt flashed across his face for just a moment, but it was gone before Tubbo could analyze it properly. Admitting fault and reflecting on his misgivings had never been the man’s strong suit. As long as he could talk his way out of every issue that arose for him, he probably didn’t think he was in need of changing. “But I do know plenty about Tommy. You seem to forget that he’s my little brother”. He wasn’t really. The two of them had once considered each other family, and maybe they both still did. But, legally, Wilbur only had one brother, and it was Tubbo. Not that either of them had ever given that title much thought. Even at their closest, they'd at most been familiar strangers. 

“Like what?” Dream demanded flatly, not at all impressed by the familial ties Wilbur flaunted. Whether that was because he knew them not to be real or because he didn’t consider family all that important was still to be determined. “Give me one thing”.

Tubbo pulled his hands back inside the cage just in time to avoid Wilbur catching onto what he was doing when he glanced in his direction, silently begging him for help. His pleading expression was far more pathetic than the teen remembered it being the last time they’d spoken. The older had improved his craft a bit, finally! Maybe he was capable of evaluating his own strengths and weaknesses sometimes after all!

He wasn’t about to help him out, though.

If Wilbur wanted to brag, he had to do so on his own merit.

So Tubbo just gave him the most neutral expression he could manage and shrugged. The irritation his refusal caused Wilbur wasn’t its intended effect, but it was a welcome bonus. It wasn’t usually his hobby to go around pissing off people with power over him (he knew how stupid it was to chase after momentary entertainment like that), but that day he was feeling particularly petty.

“I know…” Wilbur started, not quite meeting the soulless dots of Dream’s mask with his eyes. “That he used to sing to flowers to make them grow better”. It was to all kinds of crops (Tubbo knew because he’d been there by Tommy's side when he did it), and it was actually to speed up their growth, not improve their quality, but he’d gotten close enough. Dream didn’t seem as convinced, because he signaled for Wilbur to continue. After a couple more moments of him shifting in place and staring intensely at the wall, he finally had a realization. “I know he likes cows!” he blurted out triumphantly. The way he grinned so brightly made it seem as if he’d just uncovered a long-buried secret and not that he’d revealed one of the most well-known facts about Tommy. However, Tubbo did understand that, for a man like him, even small victories counted. He didn’t have a lot of those.

Dream was not impressed. His body language communicated that he was very close to throwing all his meticulous machinations to the wind and sending Wilbur right back to the Hell he’d fished him out of.

Despite everything, Tubbo did hope that Wilbur would be making it out of that collaboration unscathed. He had his problems with the guy, but there was nobody he despised as much as Dream. Not a single other person on that server managed to get anywhere close to being as despicable as that fucker. And, while he did hold some hope that Tommy’s pseudo-brother would one day see sense and have a change of heart, he didn’t with Dream.

He didn’t really want Dream to win that silly contest either. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction. But that outcome was, unfortunately, inevitable. The bastard had spent years stalking Tommy as if his life depended on it. After his little spiel in that creepy vault he’d built about the blond being the origin of all attachments and the key to everything, Tubbo was inclined to think that he truly believed it did. That, in his mind, his ascension to godhood was entirely dependent on the cooperation of the teenager he loved to torment. He was a weird one. And, while his idea of Tommy was… distorted at best, it was undeniable that he did know him well.

“You are such a poor excuse of a brother” Dream exhaled, disappointment dripping from his every word. Wilbur let out an offended squeak and geared himself up to debate that assessment, but he wasn’t fast enough. “But that’s okay!” the masked man’s tone shifted into something surprisingly cheery all of a sudden. The frustration from their conversation slid off of him in a second, like water off a duck. Maybe that too hadn’t been real; it could have been just another mask. “That’s why I’m here. I know what’s best for Tommy”. There was a small pause in his speech as he basked in the satisfaction that the last sentence had given him. “And for the rest of you, of course” he added, much less enthusiastically once he was done indulging in his fantasies. “I will build a united and perfect server. A happy family. I will save us all from the rot that the agency you lot insisted on displaying has generated”. Yeah, that man was delusional. And dangerous.

Unlike Wilbur, Dream did have the power to cause some real damage. He’d done so plenty of times before. Hell, he was probably the one who’d gone out and kidnapped Tubbo that day! He doubted that Wilbur’s scrawny ass would have had what it took to carry him… wherever they were. He’d figure out their location once he got out of the cage and the rudimentary base they were all buried in.

A few seconds went by in a silence so dense they could have cut it with a sword.

Then Wilbur let out a hysterical laugh and mumbled: “You’re actually insane. I think it was a mistake to team up with you”. His breakdown perfectly covered up the moment the lock to Tubbo’s cage clicked open. And it also enraged Dream yet again. Apparently, the masked fucker didn’t like being called crazy or something, because he punched Wilbur in the jaw without hesitation.

Tubbo ignored the commotion. He had a mission still.

As silently as he was able to, he pushed the door to his cage open and then tiptoed toward the exit. Once he was out of sight, he took a moment to orient himself (it wasn’t hard; they were apparently in a small alcove dug out from the side of the old sewers of L’Manburg that Tommy had built), and then broke out into a full sprint. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and those motherfuckers as possible.

Had he been religious, he probably would have said a prayer for Wilbur’s safety, but he wasn’t, and the man had dug his own grave.

-

He’d been kidnapped late into the evening, and it was already noon of the day after when he made it back to his (and now also Tommy’s) mansion in Snowchester. He was tired, hungry, and still rather tense from the day he’d had. And the last thing he expected was to find a gaggle of people there, fully armed and ready to go find him. Even with the shitty night he’d had and the very prominent headache he’d gotten from being knocked out, the sight managed to put a smile on his face.

Tommy was in the middle of the crowd with Michael in his arms. He was giving the others instructions since he couldn’t abandon the toddler by himself. Technoblade, Philza, Niki, and Jack Manifold, meanwhile, were all listening attentively. Even the last two, who usually couldn’t stand the blond because of some nebulous grudge they had against him, weren’t being snide or prickly. Their mouths were shut.

Tubbo called out to them once he was close enough, halting all the talking. Tommy immediately ran at him and wrapped him up in a side hug that he happily reciprocated. Jack Manifold bounced over to them to give him a vigorous pat on the back and admonish him for scaring them. The other three kept a distance, but Philza still nodded in greeting, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. He never had much of a relationship with his adoptive father, but it was nice to see that he still cared to an extent.

Before they could get carried away with all the celebrations, Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s shoulders and fixed him with a serious look. “We need to leave”. It wasn’t a question; he had no intention of leaving any space for arguments. “Wilbur and Dream are working together-” (he didn’t know if that was still true after the fight he’d caused, but it was far better for him if everyone there thought so) “They kidnapped me. And they were specifically using me as bait for you. I don’t think we’re safe here anymore. I think we should move as far away as possible. Maybe we can make that cottage we talked about. Get some cows or something. Just- we have to go”. By the end, his tone had gone from firm to desperate. He didn’t want anything to happen to his best friend. Now that he knew how real the danger Tommy was in was, if he dismissed it and something happened to the blond, he’d never be able to forgive himself. And, even if Dream and Wilbur parted ways, one of them was bound to screw them over again eventually. They always did.

Tommy glanced around at the other people present, clearly worried about what they’d say. Maybe wondering if they’d snitch on them. Tubbo shared those concerns; it was why he hadn’t mentioned a direction they’d go in, or anything really concrete.

Techno, however, positively surprised them both for once. “If anybody asks, you guys have a secret base in the Antarctic Commune with us. It should buy you a bit of time”. He didn’t push them for details, didn’t ask them to stay in touch. He just offered his support.

And, after seeing how low humanity could go to satisfy its selfish desires, that simple act of kindness pushed Tubbo to tears.

Going on the run wouldn’t be easy, but it was nice to know that there were people out there who had their backs.