The Year We Had (MCYT AU)

45: Wreckage

Tubbo wasn't brave. Tubbo was scared.

Tubbo wasn't acting on adrenaline, or a will to live. He wasn't doing something heroic, to take down a shooter and save the school. He was doing something selfish, because he was scared of losing one of the only people who really mattered to him.

Sam hadn't chased Tommy when he had run. So Tubbo looked back at Tommy's phone where it lay discarded, and thought about who he really wanted to say goodbye to. The answer was not his parents, who sent him away to a boarding school as soon as he could hold a pencil.

Gunshots rang out. Again and again. Each one made him flinch, but he knew that what mattered wasn't in this classroom anymore. He grabbed Tommy's phone and shoved it into his pocket, gripping it tightly with each bang.

Every gunshot made him flinch. Every gunshot made him worry because Tommy was out there. Tubbo stood on shaky legs and ran out the door. Because there was no stopping Tommy when his mind was made up, but Tubbo would always be the one to follow him into the darkness.

"Tubbo!" Sam screamed, and this time, followed, instructing another student to lock the door behind him.

Tubbo didn't care. He just ran as fast as he could. All he could feel was his heart racing in his chest. He had heard the gunshots. He was scared to find what they had been shooting at.

The next corridor over, there was a door with a broken lock, swinging slowly open. Tubbo ran towards it, and didn't think about what he might find. He was glad that he didn't. Thinking would have made it so much worse.

Tommy wasn't here, but his brothers were. Wilbur was sprawled beside Techno, sobbing and pressing down on his chest. There was a puddle of blood beneath them, staining the carpet forever. He was saying something, but Tubbo couldn't make it out. It sounded like rambled apologies.

"Wilbur?" Tubbo asked, stepping inside. Wilbur looked up, and Tubbo gasped. His face was horrific. It looked as though he had been in a car accident. The cuts were deep and purposeful.

"Help him, Tubbo." Wilbur sobbed, gripping his brother's shirt tightly. Helplessly. "Please."

Tubbo was by Techno's side in an instant, pulling his blazer off and pressing it down harshly on the wounded. There was so much blood underneath him. Tubbo wondered how much could be left. "Help!" He screamed at the doorway. "Someone help! Help us!" There were tears on his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. How could he fix this? There was so much blood.

"Oh my god." Sam's voice. Tubbo looked up, and there he was, standing in the doorway. He wasn't still for long. "What happened?" He reached Techno and began to tie the blazer tightly around his chest, before reaching up and feeling for a pulse.

"Shot." Wilbur choked, gripping tightly onto his brother's shirt. "He needs help, Sam. Please."

Sam felt a weak pulse. Relief flooded through him. "He's still alive, but he's fading. I need to get him out of here."

Wilbur nodded, and moved to stand, only to fall back on legs that wouldn't hold him.

"Stay here." Sam said, carefully picking up Techno's lifeless form. "I'll send someone back for you. Tubbo, make sure he stays awake."

And then Sam was gone, taking Techno with him. It all happened so fast.

"Where's Tommy?" Tubbo asked, coming to rest in front of Wilbur, gripping onto his shoulder to keep him upright. His eyes scanned his features. Tubbo did his best to keep the look of horror away.

Wilbur didn't have the words to tell him. He just began to sob again, and gripped tightly onto his little brother's best friend. A silent apology for failing him, like he had failed their father.