Chapter Text
"You're moving to fucking Utah?"
Tommy was pissed.
Puffy would have told him to think things through, to take a minute to breathe and process what he was being told. She would have told him all the shrink advice in the world.
But Puffy wasn't here right now.
No. Right now, he was sitting next to Wilbur Soot, his brother in everything but blood, the one saving grace this world had ever known.
And he was moving to fucking Utah.
Tommy was so fucking pissed.
"Tommy, you're blowing this out of proportion. It's not that big of a deal."
Except it is. Because Utah is nowhere close to Esempi. In fact, it's an entire continent away.
"Wilbur what," Tommy has to stop himself before he says something he'll regret, "what the hell is even in Utah?"
Wilbur shrugs, and God Tommy has never wanted to sock him in the face more.
"Gas stations, Arby's."
He doesn't even care. Tommy's entire world is falling apart over the promise of his best friends absence and he doesn't even fucking care.
"Wilbur we can get you fucking Arby's without having to move to Utah. "
Wilbur just shrugs again.
Tommy feels like crying, he feels so achingly hopeless.
"So that's it then?"
"Pardon?"
Tommy furrows his brow, sniffing as he looks to the forest floor.
"You just up and leave to Utah? That why you been so nice to everyone lately? You think you can just apologize for what you did to L'manburg and expect everything to be okay?" He can't help it, he's yelling.
"Tommy, L'manburg was a dumb fort I made back in the eighth grade, it's not-"
"WE MADE!" Tommy shouts, standing on the picnic table they're sat at.
Wilbur's eyes widened.
"Its the dumb fort that we made Wilbur. Not just you. It was mine once as well." He wants to cry.
Wilbur furrows his brow, shaking his head in confusion.
"Tommy, it was a wooden fort we made in the woods with some friends. It was a game , why does this still matter so much to you?"
Why?
Why would it matter so much to the kid that had been slung from home to home for the past eight years of his life like an unwanted dog?
Why would the first constant he ever had in his life, that he made with his brother, his family, why would that ever matter to him?
"You really don't know shit do you?" He can feel his heart pounding, his knees shake.
He hops down from the picnic table.
Wilbur stays quiet. It doesn't last.
"I'm sorry I burnt it down."
"It wasn't even yours anymore."
"I was really drunk, and upset, and I needed to-" Wilbur desperately searches for words, but Tommy won't accept them. Instead he looks to Wilbur, confused as to how he could ever defend this.
"Tommy…" he says it softly, in that tone he uses when things get a bit too real.
"That fort tore people apart. It tore you apart."
"It was our home." Tommy hiccups.
Wilbur cringes, clenching his fists.
"And now you're leaving this, you're leaving all of it-" he waves his hands around frantically, "for Utah!?"
Wilbur looks like he could almost laugh.
"I just, I need this Tommy. I need to go, to get away. I need to distance myself from the people I've hurt, so they can grow."
"Yeah!? Well I've experienced your distance before Wilbur. I know what happened when you went to the mental hospital and it was shit. As far as I'm concerned, your leaving only left me vulnerable.'
And he wasn't wrong. After Wilbur's attempt he had been hospitalized, for his own safety. Yet all that did was open up new gates for Tommy's bullies to lunge at him fully. Without Wilbur there to lead him down the hallways, Tommy started picking fights again.
Started fighting Dream.
And then Tubbo joined the student council, and it had all gone downhill from there.
Tommy had been at an all time low, resigned to only hang out with his mean foster brother. Though he knew Dream was just using him for a laugh, it was better than being all alone. Even if the older would throw him around the house, and made a habit of stealing more of his things.
It was always too much, and Wilbur wasn't there.
But then he got out. Wil came back home and Tommy felt relief.
And now he was leaving again, on his own accord.
"Tommy there isn't anything left for me here, look. Look!" Now it seemed like Wilbur's turn to jump up on the table, throwing his arms out wide.
"My name is Wilbur Soot! King of kings; look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains."
And he was right. All Wilbur had worked for he had destroyed. Physically and emotionally. This town had been his personal hell since day one.
Tommy knew this.
He sighed.
"You're my best friend Wil."
Wilbur smiles at him.
"You're going to be okay Tommy."
He doesn't feel okay.
"It's not the end of us, Toms. Our shenanigans can't simply be stopped by an ocean separating us. I'll never stop bothering you with dumb memes. I'll visit in the summer. Maybe you can visit me too. Feed cows, I know how much you love them."
Fuckin Americans.
"I don't want to feel like I did before."
He whispers.
Wilbur looks at him deeply, reaching out a hand and holding it tight.
"Tommy Theseus Danger Careful Kraken Innit…" he squeezes his hand for good measure. "I will never leave you to feel that alone."
And Tommy believes him.
And he feels grief.
And he feels lost.
A month later Wilbur gives him a package while they stand outside the airport.
"Just so you don't forget about me." Wilbur rubs the back of his neck embarrassed. Tommy wants to say how he doesn't think there's a world in which he forgets about Wilbur Soot.
"Thanks man." He says instead.
He decides to open it then.
Inside there's a leather bound journal that Tommy had always watched Wil scribble in from the day he met him back in middle school. It has his initials burned into the front, and it rests rough in his hands. It feels wrong to carry it.
Next there's a tape player, headphones, and a collection of actual tapes. Not just any tapes, Wilbur's tapes.
"I didn't know if you'd even really like them, but you always say you love listening to me play and I know you like some of my songs so…" he's wringing his hands anxiously.
"I love it." Tommy says quietly, watching the last thing tumble out.
It's a flag.
It's the flag.
Tommy wants to cry again.
The original L'manburg flag sits in my hands, scorched a bit at the edges, yet still intact.
"You… You said it all burned with the fort." He whispers, holding it as if it's gold.
"I lied."
"You do that a lot.'
"... I know."
And then they hugged.
"Stay brave Lionheart, you are L'manburg's legacy. You're… You're my little brother man. I love you. Please don't let Dream get to you again." He whispers in the blondes hair.
"I won't Wil." He whispers back.
And that was it.
Wilbur was pulling away, walking to the front doors. To Utah .
This really all did just feel like one big terrible game.
On the ride home Tommy listens to the tapes, particularly to the one where he can hear Wilbur lightly strumming his guitar and humming out what seems to be the melody of Hallelujah. Till Tommy hears him sing out a deep mournful, 'my L'manburg'.
He hears the brunette plucking away at strings, trying to figure out how certain words sound in the song. There's faint laughter beyond Wilbur's own voice. A collection of it.
Must have been during a L'manburg club meeting. It sits heavy in Tommy's stomach.
All until Tommy hears Wilbur call someone sunshine in a bright happy voice Tommy hasn't heard in years.
And the world doesn't rest so heavy.
Because it was all a game, because Wilbur was still only one call away.
Distance has a funny way of making the heart grow fonder.