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The cool air of the night shifted around Wilbur. It was cold, but certainly not as cold as it had been before he was revived. Somedays it felt like that dark, cold, rancid train station never left Wilbur alone. Not even the smoke of his cigarette or the flame of his lighter could change that. No false warmth to be had here.
Wilbur stared into the never-ending hole to bedrock that became of his symphony. It's strange how nature has reclaimed the land. Massive vines climb from the depth to curl around the waving flag of a once proud country. The obsidian grid looks less and less purple every day. It reminds Wilbur, in a twisted way, of what L’Manberg originally looked like. Too bad there’s nothing left of that place at all anymore.
Wilbur heard a rumor recently that Niki had actually burned the L’Mantree at some point. He doesn’t remember that happening during the Manberg-Pogtopia war so he wonders when that happened. Although, it’s not like he’s seen Niki in a while so he can’t really ask for confirmation.
Niki. Hmm.
Wilbur’s mind drifts back to the sight of watching Fundy dive off the bridge that crosses the crater.
“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” Fundy’s voice shrill voice rang out across the bridge.
Honestly, watching that whole scene happen felt like a fast-moving trainwreck to Wilbur. There was nothing he could have done to stop Fundy. Wilbur doesn’t even want to think about the implication of Eret leading him to where Fundy was. He was supposed to see Niki in Pogtopia. Although thinking about it doesn’t make sense. Why would Niki be somewhere like Pogtopia when she could be out in the sunshine baking again? Maybe Pogtopia is fitting since people have told Wilbur that she lives in a city built underground. Sounds a lot like a more developed Pogtopia almost.
Wilbur lays back on the grass that surrounds the carter. The moon beams down into his eyes. Wilbur prefers the sun much more than the moon, but the moon seems to make time slow and the world freeze some nights. The sun brings bright colors and warmth, but the moon brings darkness and the cold. The moon controls the tides while the sun ensures that life can grow. Polar opposites in all ways.
Maybe that's why the darkest thoughts happen in the dark when everything feels still. Wilbur stares at the moon and its gathering of stars that smatter the sky like a thousand little dim lights. Never bright enough to outshine the moon or light a person’s path.
The grass near the path crunches with the sound of footsteps, but Wilbur ignores them in favor of watching the night sky and all that it offers.
“Wilbur?” A soft, quiet voice sounds out above his head. You know, that voice used to be loud and grabbed everyone’s attention no matter what. When did that change? Pogtopia?
Tommy’s face fills Wilbur’s view as Tommy leans over from above his head.
“What are doing, big man?”
Wilbur stares at Tommy for a moment. The weirdest thing since being revived was to see how much Tommy has changed and not changed. Tommy doesn’t take up space like he used to. He sits willingly on the sidelines until it's his time to jump in again. That’s so different from how he used to be. Constantly butting heads with Wilbur over everything. Most times simply because he was bored.
Tommy stares back at Wilbur. “Wilbur?”
Wilbur remembers that he has to answer Tommy’s question. What was it? Did he ask what Wilbur was doing? What is Wilbur doing?
“Nothing, Tommy.”
Tommy frowns. “Then why are laying in the damp grass in the middle of the night? Do you do that for fun now or something?”
“What have you never just laid in the grass in your free time? If you say no, then I know you are lying.” Wilbur pulls himself to sit up straight again as Tommy takes a seat next to him.
“It’s kinda nice out, innit?” Tommy starts.
“Sure, cold though.”
“It’s always cold to you, big man.”
“It wasn’t always.”
Tommy and Wilbur pause for a moment. Tommy has no idea what to say in response and Wilbur is lost in his mind once more.
“Did something happen? You seemed to be really fucking engaged in ‘apologizing’ to people the other day.”
“No. Not necessarily. I just recently thought about my place in this server. If there is a place at all.” Wilbur flicks the lit cigarette into the evergrowing depth of the once proud country. “I was actually thinking of leaving this server or maybe moving to a secluded corner somewhere. I’m saying my goodbyes in a way.”
Silence hangs strongly in the air.
“It’s not like anyone really is around these days. I’ve had to do a lot of searching just to find the people that I have talked to recently. It feels like there is no light in this server anymore.” Wilbur rambles.
Tommy thinks for a moment. “I mean I guess you’re right. A lot of people have left or fucking moved to far away places. I’m the only one around here most days.”
“You do know that I would follow you anywhere, right?” Tommy turns his head to face Wilbur. “If you leave, I will follow you.”
Wilbur’s head shoots up to stare at Tommy. Surprise shadows his face.
Tommy has always been a staple of Wilbur’s life. L’Manberg. Pogtopia. Manberg VS. Pogtopia. Paradise. Every single major event in Wilbur’s life. Tommy has always been there. Even in Wilbur’s darkest moments. Almost like a sun peaking in over the horizon after a long, dark night.
“Really? After everything?”
Tommy gives Wilbur a look, puffing his chest out to look larger. “Yeah! Of course. I’ve always followed you everywhere. You can’t fucking escape me now or some shit, big man.”
“Honestly, leaving this server doesn’t sound too horrible.” Tommy deflates and looks back down at his folded hands. “I love this server and every part of it, but it has a lot of fucking horrible and shit memories attached these days. I barely see Tubbo anymore after what happened to Ranboo. I see Phil every once in a while, but it’s mostly just me around here. Everyone is so busy or doesn’t talk to me anymore.”
Wilbur stares back at the crater.
“You know, I originally wanted us to go run away to a cottage far, far away when L’Manberg was done. Once the country was thriving and a new leader was picked after me, I wanted to go live my peaceful life.”
“Yeah? That doesn’t sound that bad right now, big man.”
Wilbur smiles at Tommy. It was just a small one. A fond one though.
Wilbur always knew that Tommy would follow him to the end of the line, but it's different to hear that confirmation directly from him. Most people Wilbur has talked to in the last couple of weeks have shown that they don’t want him around really. That there was no place for Wilbur because he had already left a gaping hole in the past. In saying these apologies, Wilbur has wanted to assuage these hurts and help himself recover from that time in his life.
Wilbur’s biggest issue has always been knowing if those around him wanted or needed him there. L’Manberg was a way to protect those around him but quickly turned into a game of power. L’Manberg was made for his son and his brother and his family. A nation to live together with no hindrance from outside forces.
Now that ideal is as fractured as the country that was built upon it.
Maybe it was time to let nature reclaim it and allow the hurt to pass. Maybe just maybe, it was time to leave it behind and grow anew much like the vines have reclaimed this nation of his.
“Tommy, I am sorry. For everything. Pogtopia. Dragging you into the wars. Into my depression. Even dying on you.” Wilbur rushed out in a big breath. “You deserve to know that more than anyone.”
Tommy’s eyes watered ever so briefly. This is something that he had not wanted from Wilbur, but would gladly accept. He thought Wilbur was going to skip over him in his streak of apologies. Tommy knew his role in Wilbur’s life. He would always be his follower. Wilbur was his rock and he has seen what it is like to live without that rock. He doesn’t want to do that again. He wants the Wilbur from before L’Manberg and early L’Manberg back. The one that wasn’t stressed about war strategies or policies or even the state of the country.
He wanted the Wilbur that he used to run after begging for him to play another song. To go another place. To tell another story. The person he traveled with and dragged to the Dream SMP. He wanted his brother back. Not the ghost, fake one. Not the deranged crazy one. Just Wilbur. His older brother.
Tommy subtly wiped his eyes. “Thank you, Wilbur. Thank you.”
Wilbur and Tommy shared a smile. Wilbur lifted his arm up as an invitation. Neither had completely clear eyes at this time, but Tommy gladly dove into Wilbur’s arms. It had been a long time since Wilbur had hugged Tommy like this. It was nice.
Wilbur gladly wrapped his arms around Tommy tight burying his face into his shoulder. His mind was not silent or peaceful, but it was a step in the right direction.
Later they would pack their bags together. Tommy would tell Tubbo where they were going and give an open invitation to visit them with Micheal at some point. Wilbur would find Niki and have a proper conversation with her. It would be tearful, but it was a long time coming. Niki would also receive the coordinates of their new home when they settle down.
Tommy and Wilbur would leave with what they can carry and a guitar slung across Wilbur’s back. Just like how they arrived. They would leave with more scars and trauma, but that was the purpose of leaving. That was the purpose of finding their peace after being dragged through hell in this server. They would go create their peaceful ending. Not necessarily happy, but content. Much like the great nation that they had founded and fought together over. They, too, would become like L’Manberg and grow after being devastated.