#where it was going so they went on a picnic. also tommy goes to therapy and introspects some coping mechanisms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pparkerpoetry · 4 years ago

Text

Face Reality (Part 9)

Title: Confrontation and Avoiding the Truth (fear the strength of a father wronged)

Summary: A few of the boys go to confront their past. One decides to avoid it. And, at the end of it all, they fall onto Sam, their father. (Sam also kills a god, but that's unimportant.)

- Chapter One - Chapter Ten

Masterlist

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Occasionally, they’d all go somewhere, as a family. It was odd, such a big group traveling together, but they made it work. Other times, they’d travel in smaller groups, like when Sam had to go to the prison. None of them liked Warden Sam a whole lot, but they knew deep down that it was the same Sam that comforted them late at night. Tommy never went, though.

At least, not until now.

“Someone wants to visit the prisoner.” Sam said while they were all eating breakfast one morning.

The early morning chatter paused. Ranboo hummed a little nervously. “Maybe I’ll go with you today. I haven’t seen the prison in a while.”

Fundy sighed. “Who’s visiting him?”

“George.” Sam winced, knowing he didn’t particularly like the man.

“Guess I won’t go today, then.” Fundy mumbled, looking down and shoveling some more food into his mouth.

It was quiet for the rest of breakfast, just the clinking of forks against plates filling the silence. After Ranboo was done, he got ready, and met Sam at the entrance of their home. Right as the door opened, Tommy shuffled over.

“Could I come today?” He asked, wings circling around his body.

Sam nodded. “Of course you can. Are you sure you want to, though? You might have to see, uh, Dream.”

Tommy flinched at the name. “Yeah. I think I need to go.”

They left, then, and the journey was a soft show of how Sam and Ranboo cared for Tommy. They walked closer than Tommy probably would’ve liked, they bristled whenever they heard something. Tommy appreciated it, though, Ranboo could tell. His wings were relaxed and comfortable on his back rather than fluffed out like they were a while ago.

When they reached the prison, Ranboo caught a glimpse of blue on the horizon coming towards them. The three of them were safely inside before the visitor arrived, though.

As usual, Sam brought them to a little hidden room that could see the cell without being seen. Sam stood there whenever visitors arrived, so Tommy and Ranboo waited there while he guided the guests to the cell.

They watched as George walked over the bridge to look at Dream. Tommy looked down. He was starting to regret coming, so Ranboo put an arm around his shoulders. Sam came over a minute later, and they watched George.

The man had looked better. His posture was slumped, his hair swept to the side stiffly, like it hadn’t been washed in a while. He looked defeated.

“George.” Dream said, voice slightly wobbling in a way undetectable by anyone who was just casually watching the interaction.

George looked at the while mask for a second before sighing. “Dream. It’s been a while since I visited. Thought I’d see if you needed anything, make sure Sam’s treating you well. As well as he can, considering you’re a monster, anyway.” he shrugged, missing the way Dream folded into himself a little.

It was quiet. A painful, tense silence.

Dream broke it. “How’ve you been?”

“I left.” George said, looking up with tears in his eyes. “I left after the last visit and you didn’t care. I went with Karl and Sapnap, we had a fun time. Built a library. I was enjoying myself, but after everything you’ve done, I can’t be away from you. I hate you, but I still want what we had back.”

“George…” Dream groaned, silently begging him to stop.

“No. No, Dream. You are going to sit here and listen. After all the nights I’ve spent awake wondering if I should visit, you are going to sit here and acknowledge what you’ve done.” George snapped. “You spent years with Sapnap and I just to leave us at the drop of a hat for what, power? Why did you change? Was I not good enough? Do you hate me? Because after what you’ve done, I’m starting to think that there’s nothing left here for me.” It was silent again. When George spoke next, it was softer. “Say something, Dream. Say something, anything, and I’ll come back. I’ll stay. For you.”

“George,” Dream started, before trailing off into meaningless mutters.

He started begging. “Anything, Dream. Give me any clue that there’s a part left of the old you that I can save and I’ll stay. I promise.”

Dream stayed quiet, all the words he wanted to say biting the tip of his tongue. Instead, he said, “Then leave. See if I care. Our time is over, George. When I get out of here, I’ll be a stranger to the ones that I once loved.”

“I hope you burn in hell.” George whispered, turning away so that Dream wouldn’t see the tears he shed. He didn’t deserve to see how his words hurt. “Sam, I’m ready to go.”

Dream reached out a hand, but pulled it back. He needed to remember his plan. This was worth it.

“Bye, Dream.”

Sam had left Ranboo and Tommy to escort the broken man out, and once he came back, Tommy stood up. “Can I go visit him? I think… I think I need to talk to him.”

Even Warden Sam hesitated. “Sure.”

Tommy didn’t fill out the books, it wasn’t necessary. He finally stood above Dream, wings flared out as his anger grew.

“Hey Tommy,” Dream drawled. “Those wings are new.”

“Not really,” Tommy shrugged. “I just haven’t felt the need to tell you every little thing about my life, nowadays. No since you, you know, pushed me to almost kill myself.”

Dream wasn’t sure he liked how blunt Tommy was being. “But didn’t you hide things from me before? Isn’t that why you deserve that ending?”

Tommy scoffed. “Say what you will, Small D. I’ve got a family, I’ve healed, I’m happy. I’m not going to let you manipulate me when I’ve got the ending all heroes want and you’re here getting yelled at by George, for all I care, rotting until the ends of time. It worked back then, but not now.”

“But I’m your friend!” Dream crooned, trying to get under Tommy’s feathers.

“No you aren’t!” Tommy shouted, before pausing to calm down. “You hit me, you blew up my stuff, you abused me, Dream. You aren’t my friend. So what if it took an actual family and therapy to figure that out. You aren’t my friend, Dream, and frankly, I don’t think you have any.”

Dream hummed. “So you got smart. You gonna hit me? Get angry? Lose your temper and see how long it takes to hurt me?”

Tommy laughed at that. “No, I’m not. If you think I’m going to turn around and be as bad as you, then you’re dumber than I took you for. I’m not here for you, Dream. I’m here for me. I finally got myself back after all these years, and I came here to look you in the eyes so that you know how truly alone you are.” He paused as he started to turn around. “Y’know, I’d almost feel bad for you, if I hadn’t known that this was your own fault.”

Sam brought him back, and Ranboo smiled at the blond. “Do you feel better?”

The grin that Ranboo got as a response was telling. “I do! I feel like a big, huge man! I mean, I always was, but boy,” His wings stretched out further, proud, “I feel like I could take over the world.”

Ranboo thought about that for a while. How confident Tommy was, how relieved he felt. Ranboo wanted to feel that. Get that closure. He wasn’t sure he’d find it in Dream, though. They’d never spoken, after all. Not since Ranboo was accepted onto this server, anyway.

He found a way to get it when Karl was over one day, visiting. He’d always come alone, making an excuse as to why his fiances (husbands? Ranboo wasn’t sure if they got married or not.) couldn’t come.

They were having a picnic, all of them just hanging around snacking on food. Some of them couldn’t make it, but that wasn’t their fault.

Ranboo was sitting with his arms propping him up, staring up at how the wind moved the leaves of trees. It seemed so gentle, so relaxing, until the wind picked up and the rustling grew louder and violent. Karl was smiling, but the smile seemed to hide some uneasiness. He wasn’t sure what for, but he figured that if he'd been a time traveler in a unique timeline with little to no idea of what happened next, he’d be nervous, too.

His thoughts wandered to the green festival, how he’d been exposed as a traitor and almost executed by one of the men who wasn’t feasting in the meadow. He wasn’t sure why his mind brought it up, maybe because his mind picked up on the green around him, and as the laughter filtered into his hazy mind, they were contorted to screams.

“-you alright? Ranboo?”

Ranboo turned to see Karl looking at him funny. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“Okay,” Karl said dubiously. “If you say so.”

“Actually,” Ranboo spoke up, making Karl turn to him again. “Do you think I could go with you when you go back to your house? I think I want to visit, uh, Quackity.”

All conversation (or it seemed like it, at least,) stopped. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tubbo asked, looking concerned.

“Yeah!” Ranboo said, trying to sound cheerful. “I haven’t seen him in awhile. I want to see how he’s doing.”

“Sure.” Karl shrugged. “He and Sapnap went to the nether today, but you might catch them tonight. We have a spare room, too.”

So it was decided. Ranboo left with Karl that afternoon, but not without getting a tight hug from Sam and a package of snacks for the trip.

Quackity and Sapnap were already home by the time Ranboo and Karl arrived, and it was kind of comical how surprised they looked at seeing the enderman.

“Hey, Ranboo.” Quackity started slowly. “Karl caught me up with what happened to you after everyone gave up searching. I… I’m sorry, man. I really am.”

Karl ushered Sapnap out of the room to let the other two talk. Ranboo spoke next. “I’d like to say it’s okay, I really would. I just… don’t you realize what you did to me back then?”

“Of course I do,” Quackity exclaimed softly. “There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t regret how I acted. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, I know that being almost executed is pretty traumatic, I wish I could’ve been better, you were just a kid, but-”

“Hey,” Ranboo interrupted. “We all have regrets. I’m getting help, and I think you are too,” The nod confirmed it, “I don’t think either of us are at fault for what happened. I think we can put it behind us. After all, being on this server causes a lot of stress.”

“You can say that again,” Quackity laughed, and Ranboo noticed small wings stretch out behind him.

“Oh, hey, Tommy has wings too,” Ranboo mentioned.

“He, he what???” Quackity asked. “Wings? Since when?”

They caught up more after that. It wasn’t perfect, but when Ranboo went back home the next morning, he felt happier. He felt content, and safe, and he was glad he’d gone.

Purpled didn't get such a luxury that night. His mind was plagued with the horrors that he'd lived through not even a month ago, though he wanted nothing more than to finally rest.

It all started when he dreamed of waking up. It seemed realistic, and well, he couldn't bear the thought of not waking up, so he believed it.

He woke up quickly. What had he been dreaming of? He couldn't remember. He knew that it had caused the sinking feeling of terror in his bones, though, and knew it was real from the exhaustion in his body.

His room looked different. Had the walls always been red? He wasn't sure. Why did he… what was he here for? Hadn't he fallen asleep in the room that they all shared?

Hadn't he?

Purpled got up and padded over to the door. It swung open before him, but he didn't recall touching the handle. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. Yes, that was it. He was just tired.

He wanted to go to Sam. He'd had a nightmare, right? Yes. He wanted Sam. He wanted comfort. In his hazy mind, those were the same.

...When had he gotten to Sam's door? Hadn't he just been outside of his own room a minute ago? Nevermind that. Purpled wanted a hug.

He walked into the room. Sam lay there, still asleep.

"Sam?"

He did not wake. Purpled tried again, a little louder. "Sam?"

Nothing. Once more, "...Dad?"

Purpled was about to leave when something clicked in his mind. Why was it so quiet? Yes, why? Sam snored a bit, not loudly, but he was never this quiet. He walked over to the bed, and rolled Sam over.

Instead of a soft smile, there was blood on the corner of Sam's mouth, a blank stare, and red staining the sheets.

What was that weight in his hands?

Purpled looked down, and he was met with the glinting grin of a sword. He'd done this. He killed Sam. Why wasn't Sam respawning?

He backed away slowly. He had to check on the others, make sure they were okay, oh, god- he’d blacked out again. He’d done the one thing he was terrified he would, he’d killed Sam, oh-

The door to the room that they all shared loomed in front of him. Why was he dizzy? He stumbled into the room to see what had happened. Hopefully nothing, but oh, god-

Tommy lay on the ground, wing stretching towards the door, telling the story of a failed defense, feathers torn and dirty, stained red like Sam’s bed had been. Under one of his wings was Tubbo- but which had died first? Was it Tubbo, and Tommy was grieving the loss of the only friend that had been there since the beginning? Or was it Tommy who was the first to fall, selfless until the end, hoping that Tubbo might be spared?

Purpled didn’t know.

Ranboo and Fundy were next to each other, Ranboo’s head on Fundy’s lap as his purple blood spilled onto the ground as if in his last moments he was pulled close to Fundy, the one he’d spent so long saving and healing. Fundy’s eyes were blank, slumped against a bed, fur matted and tangled. Purpled wanted to reach out to fix it, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when he’d been the one to do this.

He tried to walk backwards, try to desperately deny that any of this had happened, but his foot caught on something and he tumbled onto his back- it was a wing, oh no, it was Tommy’s wing that he’d fallen over, and now he was looking into those dead, foggy eyes-

The hallway came into view, and it didn’t offer any solace to the boy born and raised in violence and abandonment. Puffy and Niki were by the door, tight in an embrace that held no fear because they would be together, even in death. It was a story of love that had been ended by Purpled’s blade, and he couldn’t bear to look at it, but everywhere he looked strengthened the burning feeling that he felt rising up his throat.

There- Eret, crown fallen, splattered with what Purpled really hoped was just… paint? He turned again, and Karl- wait.

Karl was alive.

“Karl, thank god, you’re alive, please, are you okay?”

Karl startled and scrambled backwards to get away from Purpled. His eyes were full of fear, but that was better than blank-

“This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Purpled squinted. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, Karl, I killed everybody! That means pretty much everything that could go wrong, did! Why didn’t anyone stop me? Don’t you guys have, like… I don’t know, overpowered armor and weapons? I’m still in my pajamas!”

Karl shook his head. “No, you don’t understand, Purpled- I- this, this shouldn’t have happened! I know time! I know vaguely how this timeline ends and this isn’t it! I don’t know how, but Purpled, you’ve altered time in a way that I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist!”

“What do you mean?” Purpled spluttered. “Mess with time? I’m barely an adult!”

“What are you?” Karl asked fearfully, and Purpled blinked, and just like that, everyone but him was dead in the house. It was quiet except for his horrified sobs that began to echo as he stepped past Karl to leave and get outside. He couldn’t tell if there were any trees there, or even if the sky was blue, but it all seemed so real despite that, like someone was trying to warn him, disguising the future as a dream.

Wait- no, he remembered. He really wished he didn’t remember, he wished with all of the bones in his body and with all of the coins that he could throw down any mossy wishing well that he could forget, but not for the first time, the world looked down on Purpled and sneered.

His heart rate began to speed up. He needed to get away, he couldn’t let that happen here-

He was gone before he’d even realized it. There was a bag, packed, and though it took some time to make sure that he wouldn’t wake up anyone as they stayed in their slumber, Purpled managed. Before he left for good, he wrote a quick note so that they wouldn’t worry, and walked by Sam’s room to hear the comforting sound of gentle snoring. During movie night (he’d miss that terribly, he decided, but this was for the better. The better of them, not him, but wasn’t that more important? Wasn’t everything he’d done to get to them, to help them, to make sure they never stooped as low as he had?) he’d usually find it annoying, but as he shut the front door behind him, he couldn’t find the strength to care very much.

He was leaving them, and they very well might hate him for it, but he needed to do this. For their safety. And, as the sun struggled to keep it’s grasp on the horizon, staining his hair the same color he’d feared so much, he felt at peace. He needed to do this. Maybe if he repeated it enough, the feelings that he had would become genuine.

By the time Ranboo woke up, hours later, the sun now mourning the loss of one of her creations, he wasn’t the first to see Purpled’s note. He was the last, to be precise. The last to look at the tiny piece of paper, scribbled in handwriting that could only be Purpled’s. The last to have their eyes filled with tears.

Sure, he thought he was doing the right thing, but surely, surely he had felt safe with them. Safe with the family that loved him so much, the family that would stop at nothing to find him again. The family that could crumble so easily and erase all the healing that had been done, just with the loss of one.

The searches that followed made Ranboo uneasy. It reminded him too much of what must've happened when he had disappeared, and he hated that it was happening again. His motivations had been more selfish, (not selfish. He wasn’t selfish for leaving when he was underappreciated. He just hadn’t realized his importance in the lives of others.) but he hated that he must’ve put this much sorrow into the hearts of the ones that searched for him.

It grew dark as the results came up empty. Everyone returned to the house, saddened and disheartened, but then- and Ranboo wasn’t quite sure if this was a stroke of genius or a hopeless dead end that cursed him even after all this time- he knew where Purpled had gone.

Where would he have gone to escape everyone? To make sure no one would find him? To be absolutely sure that they were safe from him? Well, he’d already gone there.

The End.

(of what? His mind whispered. Another just-healed life? A family? What was this the end of? Everything he’d been living for?)

Blindly, in a haze of panic, Ranboo ran outside. He didn’t know what direction to go in, he felt hands pulling him back but suddenly they were gone, and he was deep in the forest. It happened again, and he didn’t quite register just how many times it happened until he was hit by a blast of cold-

Had he just teleported?

Nevermind that, his thoughts reminded him. Nevermind your power, nevermind the past that the cold will bring up, you have a job to do.

He stumbled to the shore’s edge, not caring how armorless he was. Diving into the water was painful, but the headache that was growing and the exhaustion setting into his body distracted him from it. His feet brought him to the room that he’d stood at, and for a second he could feel all of the blood rush from his face.

There, next to a now lit portal, was the god that had been part of the reason he had been so alone, and he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, let Purpled go through the same thing. No one deserved the fate that he’d submitted himself to all those years ago.

And, next to the glowing wings, was a familiar purple sweatshirt, the person it belonged to looking devastated and broken.

Purpled looked up, and met Ranboo’s eyes. Neither were sure which pair of eyes held more emotion. Ranboo’s, full of shock that he was right, filled with pain that Purpled never thought to stay, telling the story of someone who’s lived out this ending and never wanted to go near it again, but has. Or, maybe Purpled’s, thought to be the least fucked-up of the bunch, eyes flooded with the memories that never let him rest, sick of it all and just wanting his family safe.

Purpled’s, which held the story of an apology. “I’m sorry,” it said, narrated in a tear-filled voice though no words were spoken. “I’m sorry that it had to end this way, I really am, but it’s better this way.”

“Then why does it hurt?” Ranboo’s responded, bringing up the regret that the story had brought.

The hesitation it caused as one foot lifted into the air was enough time. Ranboo let out a screech, somewhere between a shout of No!, and the warble of an enderman. He wasn’t sure which one it was closer to, but he knew that he had finally done something right as he felt the weight of Purpled collide with his, falling to the ground behind the portal instead of into the dark expanse.

“Let me go!” Purpled cried, the tears streaming down his face. He’d been so close to making sure they were safe, why did Ranboo stop him?

“No,” Ranboo growled, holding down Purpled as he struggled and tried to escape. “I’m not letting you go there. Not when it’s done what it has to me. Not when I know what it will do to you. Not when I know that I almost lost myself, and that I’ll lose you, too. I couldn’t bear to lose you. Not after all we’ve been through.”

Purpled went limp, falling into Ranboo’s arms as they both cried. It had been a long day, they were tired, and they wanted to go home.

There was the issue of the very not amused god, though. They’d gone way off script, and he was sick of it. He wanted control back.

___________________

Sam wanted his sons back.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew where they were. He knew almost immediately after Ranboo had gasped softly and ran outside toward where he knew the snowy tundra was. People tried to stop him, but the teleportation was new. Something they’d have to work on, certainly, but there was no time.

He set off a little while later. He trusted Ranboo to deal with it, but figured they could use some backup to get home. Sam used his trident, and flew through the air. It would’ve been enjoyable if he wasn’t so worried about Purpled.

While he wasn’t sure what he expected, but seeing an angry god standing over his two children wasn’t it.

“Get away from them.” Sam said, hoping he wouldn’t have to get into a fight with a deity. Fate wasn’t on his side though. When had it ever been?

“Get away?” The god laughed. “I am powerful. I can shift reality. Create matter. Do you know pain, Awesamdude? I am made from the very essence of pain, and if you interfere here, you will learn of it.”

Sam had the audacity to laugh. He was scared, but he laughed. “Pain? You think I don’t know pain? How much of an idiot are you?” The laughter cut off, replaced with a cold, chilling voice. “I know more pain and hurt than you’d ever know. My story isn’t controlled by you, and neither am I. Now, get away from them.”

The deity would have been pouting, mockingly, had he a face. “You aren’t controlled by me? You really think so?” He crooned, reaching a hand out towards Sam. “How long do you think you can pretend that’s true?”

Sam felt his throat close, his lungs contract. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t get the air he needed-

The air rushed into his lungs, only for walls of obsidian to be built, crushing him and leaving no space to move.

“How long can you escape me?”

As soon as he mined the blocks, more appeared. When they ceased, lava was poured onto the stone and he felt the heat through the protection of his boots.

“How long can you survive in a world that I run?”

When the lava was scooped up, it was quickly replaced with a skeleton, shooting an arrow through the weak part of his armour. Sam hissed, and fell back in pain, feeling the gunpowder rise up his throat. He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t. His boys would get caught up in the explosion and get hurt- Sam spared a desperate glance to them to make sure they were alright, but the deity caught it.

“How long do you think you can protect them? Who even are you to challenge me when I am the god of these lands, who writes your futures?”

A wave of rage rolled off of Sam with the strength of a thousand tsunamis at the thought of this slimy fingered fuck touching his boys, startling the deity and breaking the connection that had been held. Sam unsheathed his sword as he stood up, and pushed it into (what he assumed was) the body of the god.

“Me?” He snarled. “I’m their father. And if you think I won’t kill anything that’s standing in their way of a happy life, then you deserve everything that I want to do to you for preventing their safety.”

The god had a hard time breathing, but he spoke again. His head had no mouth, but the words were coming out slower, now. “I won’t die, if you do this. I’ll come back later, I’ll destroy everything you love. I cannot truly be killed.”

“You come and try.” Sam whispered into what he really hoped his ears were. “You come and try to touch a single hair on any one of my boy’s heads, and you see what happens. You can’t write my script because I’ve burned it in the flames that you’ve made of my past, so try and see what will happen if I see you again. I dare you.”

With that, the air was silent as the god disappeared, nothing left of him but a shining portal still lit and a message in the chat.

DreamXD has left the game.

He knelt down next to Purpled and Ranboo, who were trembling, still locked in a tight embrace. “C’mon, boys.” He sighed wearily. It’d been a long day, and he could check kill a god off of his bucket list. “Let’s go home.” He was holding his side and would limp back, but he repeated it.

“Let’s go home.”

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