Long Live L'Manberg

Chapter 16: One Last Chance

Wilbur bit his nails, pacing around what remained of the caravan. At the time of the accident, he was able to swoop in and grab Tommy's limp body and rush him back home for treatment. As much as he hoped for the best, a dreadful feeling loomed in the back of his mind. What if he was too late? What if his brother was already dead?

He sure looked it.

Tommy's typically rosy freckled cheeks were now pale and lifeless, large purple rings surrounding his under eyes. His knees were bruised, his hands clammy and cold. His shirt was removed, and a blood-soaked bandage was wrapped several times over the gash in his stomach. Tubbo clasped the bitter hand of his friend, continuing to shake and sob. It was all so unfair. Their story was finished and he never even got to say goodbye. To think he put so much trust in Tommy to beat Dream. It was all so foolish. What occurred an hour ago wasn't a duel- it was an assisted suicide.

"God, I'm such an idiot!" Tubbo wailed as he grit his teeth. "I can't believe we let him go through with this!"

Wilbur whipped around, not in the mood to argue. He raised his voice, his tone overburdened and fatigued. "What other choice did we have?! There's no way we could have stopped him if we tried! You know how he is." 

Tubbo winced in return, not appreciating Wilbur's sudden aggravation. "I know, but it isn't fair! It's like we were set up for failure!" The boy wiped his damp eyes, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the rain pattering on the roof. A frigid breeze rushed through the crack in the window making the hair on his arms stick straight up. Squeezing Tommy's hand, Tubbo forced his eyes shut in an attempt to hide his tears. 

"I wish it were me!" he blurted out in an emotional fit.

Wilbur's eyes grew wide as he darted over, a scolding finger shrewdly pointed toward the boy. "Don't you dare say that! Your life is worth so much more than this stupid fucking war, Tubbo!" his voice trembled, lingering with grief and frustration. "Tommy might have thrown away his shot, but you cannot throw away yours. Do you understand me?" Wilbur tightly clasped the boy's shoulders, eyes wide with concern. Tubbo nodded, drying his tears as his posture stiffened. An impulse caused Wilbur to pull Tubbo into a brief embrace, the boy hesitantly accepting. He knew Wilbur needed it after losing his brother so tragically. Wilbur let out a long sigh, his voice wavering, "I should never have trusted that boy with a bow."

"Why's that?"

Both of their heads jerked around to see Tommy, standing right up as he scrunched his nose in confusion. "And why are you two acting so mushy? Stop hugging each other already, you're making me sick."

Tubbo rubbed his eyes a few times to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Surely it was too early on in the grieving process to hallucinate. "W-Wilbur...are you seeing...what I'm seeing?" Tubbo pointed a clammy finger at Tommy who was currently in the process of getting dressed into his uniform, chasing around a stray cufflink that had rolled onto the floor.

Wilbur couldn't believe his eyes. Just a moment ago, he was sure Tommy's soul was lost. Now he's running around fully healthy? He launched himself over toward the boy, ushering him back over to the cot. "Tommy, what the hell?! Sit down, you're healing!"

"Not anymore, I'm not! I feel better, see?" Tommy lifted up his shirt, the blood-soaked bandage unraveling to reveal a healed scar where the wound had been moments ago. Yanking his undershirt down, Tommy proceeded to slip on his boots one by one. Tubbo cocked his head, his face white as a sheet as he took a wary step toward the boy who just cheated death. "So, you're just...alright? No injuries? Blood? Bruising? Just...nothing?" he queried in disbelief. "That's not possible, it can't be!"

"I don't really understand what happened either...it's tough to remember anything." Tommy's forehead creased as he remembered the bleak, barren darkness of his limbo. "Don't get your hopes up for the afterlife though," he chortled, Tubbo and Wilbur exchanging disturbed looks.

Buttoning up his overcoat, Tommy spoke as he focused on reaching the third button. "What's going on with the war? Have we lost?"

Wilbur sat next to him on the bed, gesturing for Tubbo to get Fundy from outside. The rusty springs in the cot creaked as they came in contact with both of their weight. He sighed in defeat, finding it exceptionally hard to meet his brother's eyes. "When Dream fired that arrow into you, we lost. L'Manberg is no more, and we are forced to give up everything at sunrise." Tommy furrowed his brow, tears glimmering in his eyes. This was all his fault. 

"But...there has to be another way, I'm sure of it!" Tommy pleaded, desperately grasping at straws. Were they really at a stalemate? Were there no other options to save L'Manberg?

"There isn't," was all Wilbur could muster up, his hand resting on his brother's shoulder. The door then creaked open, Tubbo and Fundy quietly slipping in through the entrance. His eyes met those of his soldiers, looking them up and down before sighing. "Gentlemen, it's time we discuss total surrender. No games this time."

The room was eerily still, none of the boys uttering a peep. They knew this was the right thing to do, the near-death of their own shaking them to their very core. 

"I understand this is disappointing news, but we have no resources or allies. It's time we resign, it would be foolish not to." He stood up from Tommy's medical cot, slowly making his way toward the end of the van. 

"You have to understand that from my standpoint, this is the best possible option. I would be risking the lives of not only my soldiers but my closest friends. I can't do that. Not after I nearly lost Tommy." The room remained silent, everyone in some form of non-verbal agreement. 

Everyone except Tommy. 

The blonde stood up abruptly, marching towards his chest and reaching for his discs. Cat and Mellohi shone brightly in the moonlight as he shoved the discs under his right shoulder, swung open the door, and left without a word. Wilbur chased after him, not at all surprised about his sudden defiance. He called out, desperate to not lose his brother again. "Tommy! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" 

At those words, the boy stopped dead in his tracks, jerking his head around to meet eyes with his brother once more.

"To make things right."