Chapter Text
Tubbo could hear Fundy rushing down the hallway before the man even appeared in his doorway. The president let out a long sigh and set his pen down.
“Not now, Fundy,” he growled. “I'm working, okay? I have to get these reports in, I don't have time for-”
“Something’s wrong with Phil,” he breathed, and Tubbo paused where he sat. He looked over at the fox, at how tense he looked, almost pleading. Desperate.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
The last time Tubbo had gone to see him was on the 23rd day of his house arrest (Phil called it captivity but that's not what it was, he wouldn't call it that). After Techno escaped and Tubbo helped Philza heal from the arrow wound (the arrow wound that he caused, dammit Tubbo, what are you doing, it's for the greater good it has to be for the greater- ) Phil had grown despondent.
At first he was angry, he refused any help and told them to leave him alone. But then he was just… silent. There wasn't even anything spiteful about it, he was just done. Tubbo couldn't visit him after that, he just couldn't. It was painful to see such a cheerful man like that.
Besides, he was busy as hell. He had work to get done. And Philza clearly didn't want to see him, so… so he’d deal with it on his own. Philza was a god, he’d be fine. “What does ‘something wrong with Phil’ mean, Fundy.”
“Just come on. I don't know how long Ranboo can keep Ghostbur in line.” That had Tubbo on his feet, and then they were walking down the hallway.
“Explain,” the president demanded.
“He's just- he's been acting weird, Tubbo. I think it has something to do with him being a sky god, he hasn't been outside and now he's erratic and- I don't know.” They turned the corner and walked up the steps to Philza’s house, finding Ranboo standing on the steps with his arms around Ghostbur.
Friend was waiting anxiously outside, pacing back and forth. Ghostbur looked crestfallen, and he realized why when he walked inside. Philza was curled in on himself, made impossibly small in the corner of the room. His wings functioned almost like a shield, blocking him from the rest of them.
One of them was bent at an angle that made Tubbo sick.
“What the fuck happened to his wing?” he demanded. Fundy shrugged.
“He um- he tried to escape a while ago.” Tubbo stared at him incredulously.
“He what? And I wasn't notified of this?” Fundy recoiled.
“Tubbo, you were busy, and Quackity was supposed to tell you. I'm- I’m sorry.”
“Tubbo, what's wrong with Phil?” Ghostbur demanded, upset.
“Philza, what's wrong?” Tubbo tried, ignoring Ghostbur for now. “Phil-” a vase of sometime flew past their heads and shattered against the back wall.
“Get the fuck away from me!” the god growled, peeking out from behind his wings. He looked… feral. Like an animal. Fundy was right, Tubbo realized quietly. It's the sky. It's captivity. Hes fucking terrifed. We never should have kept him trapped like this, he's… His dirty blond hair was falling in his face, hat discarded, black eyes glittering.
Yet again Tubbo remembered how this man was the Angel of Death. He was 1000s of years old, he was powerful. And now he was just… this.
“Phil what's wrong?” Ghostbur asked, clearly starting to panic. “Phil what’s-”
“You're not my son!” Philza snapped, and Tubbo felt the world slow around him. He felt Fundy tense. Ghostbur was shaking. Philza shook his head soon after, whimpering, putting his head in his hands.
“You're not my son, it's not- it's not real!” he insisted to nobody in particular, sounding more desperate than Tubbo had ever heard him. Ghostbur looked at all of them questioningly. Ranboo tried to soothe him by babbling little excuses, but none of them really heard what he was saying.
“You l-look- you look like him, you look like my son and y-you talk like him and you act, you act like him but you're not, you're not him! Wilbur’s dead, everybody that's ever loved me is dead, stop- stop haunting me!”
“I don't- I don't understand,” Ghostbur whispered. “What did I do wrong, did I do something wrong? Why is Phil upset, I didn't- I didn't mean to make him upset! I didn't- I didn't mean to.”
“Phil, please,” Tubbo pleaded. “Just- you're scaring him, okay? You're scaring Ghostbur, and that's not- that's not true, everybody who loved you isn't dead-”
“Oh shut the fuck up!” Philza shouted, glaring. “You don't get to tell me you love me, you don't get to tell me you give a fuck, because you don't! Just- just get out, get the fuck away from me, all of you. T-Take that- that… that thing pretending to be my son and fucking go !” Tubbo didn't want to leave, not really.
He didn't want to leave Philza alone, but he was pretty sure that the man would start trying to rip their heads off if he stayed any longer. So against his better judgement, he left, taking Ghostbur behind him, trying to explain that he didn't do anything wrong in the simplest terms he could manage.
Philza just shuddered on the floor, wrapping his arms around himself. He needed the voices to stop, he needed to escape .