YELLOW || GLATT X GHOSTBUR [FINISHED]

Altruism. |CH2|

He looked at Schlatt who had kneeled down to pick a fragile flower from the ground. He seemed so different, in a way, he seemed... broken. This wasn't him, sure, he was a better person but this person wasn't Schlatt, it's like his humanity had been stripped away and replaced by an old record.

Wilbur hadn't realized how long his thoughts had been carrying him as they were currently treading down the Prime path, well, they were until they were stopped by an incredibly scared Tommy.

"W- Wilbur?". He stared at the ghost, eyes wide and filled with fear. His compelling glow brighter than ever.

"You can see me?", he looked to Schlatt and back at Tommy.

"Y- Yeah, who you lookin' at?", Tommy looked straight through Schlatt, not being able to see him. Schlatt pulled Wilbur to a side away from Tommy.

"Wil, those who miss you can see you, they care about you Wil.". Schlatt placed a hand on his shoulder smiling. Wilbur looked back at Tommy and then at Schlatt. "Can anyone See you?", his voice was laced with curiosity.

The smaller male exhaled ducking his head. "Nobody cares about me, Wil, I was a bad man.". Wilbur frowned, "and so was I", his voice cracked at the mere thought of knowing nobody cares, that nobody loved him, it was devastating.

Tommy interrupted them, "Sorry to interrupt your imaginary conversation Wilbur but who the hell are you talking too.".

Wilbur looked at Schlatt once more before closing his eyes.

"Nobody."

Nobody. Amazing how one word could come crashing down like an injured bird, a sense of pain overtook him, that's all he was, thats all he ever was. Nobody. He watched as Wilbur and Tommy walked on, so happy, though Tommy seemed rather confused.

He was alone, again. He'd been so lost in his broken mind, he hadn't heard Wilbur whisper in his ear before leaving. Maybe it was for the better. His heart couldn't of handled it.

"You're everything.".

He clenched his fist denting a broken brick wall, he was dead, he couldn't feel physical pain, unless he'd died to a wound, but he hadn't, he'd died a pathetic death infront of everyone.

He hurt.

He was given two choices at random before coming into the afterlife. Redemption and Altruism. He was selfish. He chose Redemption. Either way he'd have suffered. He wanted to change his choice, he wanted to help others, not himself. He'd been humbled and his personality had been stolen from him, his rights to who he was torn away effortlessly.

The sun was setting and he was walking along the grassy path hed built to his home, looking over the horizon, everything was so perfect. Various flowers scattered across the glossy meadows, fresh water lakes running around the hill. Nature. Nature is so beautiful. He sat up on the hill watching the moonlight rise.

He walked through the meadow letting his hands brush against the tulips and rose buds. Fireflies lit up the sky like fireworks gliding high. Something felt off though, he wondered what Wilbur was doing.

He exhaled seeing a tall man standing in front of a burning house, the grass torched and flattened. He watched as the male dropped to his knees.

He couldnt help it, on instinct he ran over to his home, now ashes. He saw the man, Wilbur, he was curled up on the ground outside clenching a hand to his chest in agony.

"W- Wil-" he muttered embracing the man, not even bothering to check up on the house. He could hear his mournful sniffles. His broken sobs and melancholy heartache.

"C'mon asshole, cheer up.". He was shocked at himself. He'd not said that line in so damn long. He could hear Wilbur laugh softly from beneath his arms. "Schlatt- the house- it's gone, and you're here trying to cheer me up by calling me an asshole.".

He rolled onto his back facing the stars letting out a low chuckle, Wilbur resting at his side, "You didn't even build it, what got you so worked up?". Schlatt moved his arm from around Wilburs waist and up onto his own chest. Everything was gone but it was okay, he cheered up Wilbur. That's what mattered.

"I keep feeling the same pain I felt as I died in my chest, it wont go away.".

Schlatt turned his head to face Wilbur, the burnt blue tinted grass grasping at his pale body. "You're not in pain right now."..

Wilburs eyes opened wide, he was right, but why, he'd been in agony the entire time hed been with Tommy but he felt safe here. By Schlatts side, it was so surreal. He nodded.

"I don't know why."

Schlatt smiled sympathetically. "I'll build us a new home.". Wilbur got up instantly, his face filled with glee. "Can I help!". Schlatt chuckled, "You rest, I've got it, its fine.".

He got up from the ground going to the remains of his dirt shack. It needed renovation anyway. He shoveled some dirt away opening an old, creaky chest, he heaved some oak logs over his shoulder and out of the shack before grabbing a sack filled with Cobble. He groaned letting his back adjust to the weight he'd carried. Pain, he felt physical pain. Not just emotional pain. This was weird.

He looked back at Wilbur who was staring up at the stars, what was he thinking about, the next minute he was up and heading away.

He got to work, placing cobblestone support beams and sturdy oak walls, finally, he placed in some carpet over the damp wooden floor, a bright yellow carpet. Why yellow. Yellow was a happy color, and thats all he wanted, all he'd ever wanted, he wanted to be happy, he wanted yellow. Yellow. Wilbur reminded him of yellow. In his head, it made sense, everything made sense, as incomprehensible as it all was.

He placed a flower pot on the open windowsill, placing a small dandelion inside of it.

It was complete, but he hadn't built it for himself, he'd built it for Wilbur. An act of Altruism, maybe it wasn't too late to change.