wipe the blood off your face (it may stain)

Time Would Come To An End

Something was off with the SBI.

It wasn't noticeable at first, but Tommy had learned how to pick apart their anxious tics and habits.

The main thing was that they were avoiding him, though.

Something was wrong.

Tommy was pretty sure he hadn't done anything. Things had been going even better. The talk with Phil really paid off and the man seemed much warmer to him. Wilbur was keeping to himself a little, but that didn't seem to be any fault of Tommy's. Techno had been Techno, and Tubbo and Ranboo had been goofing off with him just like old times, minus the crippling amount of bills they used to deal with.

He had been actually getting along with everyone.

Which was weird for him, but a good weird.

It was nice.

Then, for the past week, there had been a smoke that hung over the air that choked everyone with tension. It was like Tommy had done something wrong, and he had been racking his brain for anything for days, but nothing came to mind.

It was even weirder that they didn't seem mad or upset with him, only nervous.

...Okay.

There would be murmurs he would hear from them, but the moment he entered the room, you could hear a pin drop. It was as if they were schoolgirls exchanging secrets. Tommy didn't get it.

He thought things had been going well. He thought that they had all gotten into a rhythm and accepted their fate, for now, at least. Tommy would try his hardest to make sure they would get back to their normal life eventually, even if that meant killing a Hero or two. Or three. He wouldn't really complain.

Things felt as normal as it could be in their situation. He was genuinely starting to befriend the SBI again, so he didn't understand what he did that caused them to avoid him.

He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling and spiraling. He didn't understand. It was like no matter how hard he tried, they would always be mad at him. The second that the boat didn't rock any longer, another wave came by and ruined his unsteady friendship with at least one of them.

Tommy stared up at the ceiling for a while, trying to understand something that he probably never would get.

And that led him to getting a little angry.

Because, really, he knew he messed up badly, but come on. He had been doing everything he could to try and make it better. They needed time to heal, and that was fine. But days of healing had turned into weeks and weeks were becoming months and it wasn't like they didn't have the free time to heal from it or whatever. Tommy didn't really know how it worked; he took his pain out in the constant thought of revenge that hung over him.

The point is, why was he being blamed again for something he wasn't even certain he was guilty of? They had avoiding him for no real reason that Tommy was aware of. If they were angry with him again for something he did, that was reasonable, but at the very least they should communicate about it – which was something they all severely lacked doing.

He scoffed at the thought and rolled around to the right side of the bed, staring at the wall.

Then he heard the door open. He was turning around to see who it was, but the person in question jumped onto him before he could do it.

He grunted at the impact and immediately knew who the culprit was. "Tubbo, what the fuck?"

"Don't be mad at me! You're the one who's late."

"Late?" He pushed Tubbo over to the left side of his bed, ignoring the grunt from his friend, and ran his fingers through his now messed up hair. "Late for what?"