Cigarettes in the Snow

The death of a friend

Tubbo sighed, leaning his arms against the railings of his porch, feeling the cool breeze as another layer of snow fell over Snowchester. He looked out at this world he's built, his land, his nation, his home..?

It has to be his home..right..? His family was there, his son was there, and though he felt joy with them, the sinking feeling in his heart never seized to exist, making itself present more and more throughout each passing day. He loved his family, he was working on their house together, but at the same time, he just wanted to run away from it all, never looking back. Away from all the responsibility, all the commitments, all of the pain. But he knew he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't handle the feeling of missing his friends. 'Friends'. Tubbo has friends. He has Tommy and Ranboo and Jack. But aren't friends the people you open up to..? Are they really his friends or just people he stands around. Do they care? How could they care if he can't even bring himself to care? But..they need him, and he needs them. Right?

The world went still for a moment, and then reality sank back in. Tommy was gone, just like that. The sinking feeling in his chest began to start again, even worse than before. Is this what it's like to lose someone, to mourn, to grieve? Tubbo wouldn't know. Was this feeling because of Tommy, or just his heart hurting a little more than usual? He stared at the snow, it stared back. Empty. Tubbo closed his eyes for a brief moment, only to quickly open them again. He steadied himself and walked off his porch, he listened as the hardwood floors creaked under his feet. Slowly he made his way over to Tommy's grave. He placed a hand on the gravestone, feeling the cracks in the stone on his cold fingertips.

"He's gone. He's really gone." Tubbo thought as he felt his eyelids get heavy and eventually close.

Tubbo stood as hours passed, the breeze picking up and slowing back down over and over. Barely moving an inch.

"Tubbo!" Ranboo called out from a distance, making Tubbo jump and quickly open his eyes.

"..Hey," Ranboo said making his way over to Tubbo. "Are...Are you doing okay?.."

"..."

It fell silent for a moment. Ranboo felt the need to change the subject as to not pry, considering the death of one of their closest friends happened earlier that day. "So...where is Micheal?"

"..Shit."

—

Tubbo opened the trapdoor to see Micheal playing with some blocks on the floor.

"Bo!" Micheal exclaimed.

"Hey kiddo, sorry I was gone so long." Tubbo apologized, though his apology was intended at Ranboo, who was visibly worried Tubbo left him alone for so long.

"Is okay! Play block!"

Ranboo made his way up the ladder, "No blocks right now Micheal, it's bedtime."

"Okay!!" Micheal said with a big smile on his face which made both Tubbo and Ranboo smile in return. For a moment Tubbo felt the feeling he'd been searching for, peace. Though only for a quick moment. He longed for it to last longer. Tubbo climbed into bed next to Ranboo, Micheal in the middle of them. He felt a strange feeling. The feeling of in-between. At peace with the world, while simultaneously wanting to destroy it all.

—

A crash echoed throughout the office. Tubbo accidentally knocked over some files that laid on his old desk. He looked around at the abandoned building, half destroyed, the other half barely standing. Tubbo didn't know why he brought himself here, it was the middle of the night after all. Ranboo might be worried about him. But he needed to leave, to just get out for a second. So why, why did he bring himself back to his old presidential office. A place with a bad history, where he made mistakes he wished to move past. Maybe because he knew he could never truly move on. He was searching for something, he just didn't know what yet. He felt stupid. He brought himself here just to rub it into himself that he'll never be anything more than a tyrant, just to return empty-handed to a family he didn't deserve. He started walking back until something caught his eye. The trash bin.

A pack of Schlatt's old cigarettes was in there. Tubbo remembered throwing them out. He hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It reminded him too much of Schlatt. So once he became president he had thrown them out immediately. Now he found himself staring at the pack, contemplating his choices. He knows he shouldn't. There's no point anyway, it won't fix anything. But was it about fixing things, or finding a temporary escape to help him get through the day? He thought back to Micheal. Micheal gives him an escape, though only for a moment. He needed something longer, something he could rely on to help him feel at peace again. Even if it was a temporary peace.

He needed an escape.

He needed something..

He needed anything...

"..."

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes and ran.