Chapter Text
Tubbo was supposed to find Tommy.
He stared up at the stars from his plain bed TFC made for him, a lump in his throat. He was too wary to sleep, even though he heard TFC loudly snoring from his bed across the very humble house that didn’t even have a roof on it.
What was he still doing here?
He followed his compass until he ran out of bread, but that was when he saw the first signs of civilization, and-
Tubbo just panicked. He was ashamed to admit it. He panicked, and just dug deep into the earth where he was positive nobody would find him, until he could come up with armor, weapons, and a plan.
But of course he was found, even though he made sure to be careful-
Tubbo’s eyes flicked to TFC. The ‘hermit’(?) was snoring so loudly, practically dead to the world. He’d even taken off his wooden peg-leg before bed.
Tubbo could run, and even if TFC woke up, he wouldn’t be able to follow him in time.
…So why didn’t he?
Tubbo huffed, turning a glare back to the stars like they could give an answer.
Tubbo could’ve found Tommy by now. Why wasn’t he looking? Where was that urgency from MCC?
The lump in his throat grew. He knew the answer, even though he wanted to deny it.
He was scared.
He was scared of what Tommy would do, seeing him again after a year , after the last interaction they had was Tubbo exiling him from his own country-
- Gods, a country Tubbo left behind to fend for itself at the drop of a hat, after everything he gave up to defend it.
Tubbo pressed his palms to his eyes, his chest shuddering with the effort of trying not to cry.
What was he doing?
-
Tubbo was…different, in the way that Tommy was different.
It was quiet and peaceful in TFC’s little corner of the server, but every once in a while a hermit would fly over on their way to the shopping district, and every time, Tubbo would throw his arms up in front of his face and freeze up.
The first time it happened, TFC paused in his crafting to look Tubbo’s way, but the kid was still like a statue. TFC frowned, hobbling over and hesitantly reaching out. “…Kid?”
There was no response. Tubbo didn’t even blink, his chest heaving with fast breaths. TFC touched the kid’s shoulder, and Tubbo flew away from him, tripping over his feet and landing hard on the wooden floor.
“Woah! Hey, woah-“ TFC startled at such a quick response. “Tubbo, relax. You’re alright.”
He didn’t dare try to touch him again, even after Tubbo clutched his face where it was scarred, his eyes wide and distant and looking through TFC instead of at him.
“Tubbo,” He tried again, using his pickaxe as a crutch to lower himself to the ground to sit across from the trembling kid. “Hey, look at me.”
Tubbo’s wide lapis eyes flicked to TFC’s face, though his gaze was still distant and hazy. TFC grimaced.
He’d seen this before.
Iskall got like this sometimes whenever they were presented with PVP, though very rarely. TFC, even, would sometimes catch himself stilling at the sight of an end crystal idly bobbing in the Overworld whenever one of the other hermits were messing around with them, memories of 2b2t flashing before his eyes.
But… rockets? That was a new one. TFC trailed his eyes over the big scar on Tubbo’s face that he was clutching, violent and spread out like-
….Oh. Like a firework.
Gods.
TFC took a breath, and reached over to pinch Tubbo’s arm, hard enough to make the kid jolt.
“Ow-“ Tubbo choked out, flinching away, but the fog cleared all at once from his scared eyes.
“Sorry.” TFC said, genuinely. “You back with me, kid?”
Tubbo blinked hard, a good few times. His chest was still heaving for breath, but his trembling lessened.
“…Y-yeah,” Tubbo mumbled, shakily. TFC nodded, an understanding look on his face.
“…Makes me come back,” TFC explained, miming a pinching motion again. “Falsie does it for me if I’m gone for a bit.”
Tubbo swallowed, surprise flashing in his lapis gaze.
“What…what does it?” Tubbo asked, his small voice vulnerable. TFC sighed and leaned back where he sat.
“End crystals.” He said. Tubbo blinked in confusion, though he didn’t voice it.
“…Does it stop?” The kid asked, his voice so small that it made TFC’s old heart hurt.
“…’Fraid not.” TFC quietly said. “Been…near twenty years since 2b2t, still…still gets me.”
Tubbo’s eyes widened.
“Y-you were—you were on 2b2t?” He asked, his voice hushed like it was a terrible taboo. TFC cracked a small smile at the kid’s expression.
“Yeah,” He nodded. Tubbo’s eyes were so wide, his expression both awed and near-horrified.
“You’re—you’re still alive?” Tubbo asked, blunt enough to make TFC laugh.
“Still kickin’,” TFC affirmed, shifting where he sat. “Short a leg an’ got a jacked-up arm, but still kickin’.”
Tubbo nodded, looking almost awestruck.
“Yeah…same…” The kid mumbled, a bit of an afterthought. TFC watched him, taking in the kid’s furrow of his brows, the twist of his lips as he thought. He looked…really young. As young as Tommy, even.
“It doesn’t go away,” Tubbo repeated quietly, pulling his haunches closer to his body. “Does it…get better, at least?” He asked, changing his earlier question. He sounded so weary, so much more tired than a kid his age should be.
TFC smiled a little, his eyes kind.
“…Yeah. It does.”
-
Tubbo seemed to act differently with TFC after their first little talk. Differently in general, really.
He gradually grew less wary around the old hermit, quicker than TFC expected, not that he minded. He talked more, though there were many times where the two of them just sat in a comfortable silence, doing their own separate things.
It was…nice, having someone around. TFC grew to like it more than he thought he would, loner as he was.
He learned pretty quickly after Tubbo got comfortable enough that the kid was whip smart. TFC came up from the mines one day to the sight of Tubbo knelt in the grass and fiddling with a redstone contraption outside the humble home, so complex it made the old hermit’s head spin.
“What’cha got here?” TFC asked, leaning on his pickaxe to give his peg-leg a rest.
Tubbo replied by flipping a lever, and the sound of many pistons firing in a pattern preceded the frame of machinations opening a door. He looked up at TFC, and the old hermit saw a look of pride on the kid’s scarred-up face.
“Locked-combination piston door,” Tubbo replied, getting to his feet—er, hooves?—and brushing grass blades from his haunches. TFC hummed, impressed even though he didn’t understand it.
“I remember Mumbo working out one o’ those.” He mused, and Tubbo whipped his head around.
“Mum— Mumbo Jumbo?” He asked, and TFC blinked up at him.
“Yeah, Mumbo Jumbo,” TFC said, amused. “You heard of him?”
“Heard-“ Tubbo reeled. “Of course I’ve heard of him! He’s one of the best redstoners ever!”
TFC smiled wider. “Yeah, he’s real talented…you wanna meet him? Talk a bunch a’ redstone gibberish?”
Tubbo stared at TFC like he’d just offered him an enchanted golden apple.
“Mumbo Jumbo’s on this server?” He asked, almost faint. TFC chuckled.
“Yeah, he’s a hermit. He was about your age when he joined.” He explained. Tubbo’s mouth fell open.
TFC watched the kid think it over, practically buzzing with excitement.
“If—if he doesn’t tell anybody I’m here,” Tubbo said quickly, “Can he—can I meet him? Can he keep a secret?”
TFC ‘hmm’ed, scratching his beard.
“Ya know, I got no clue.” TFC replied honestly. “But I’m sure he’s considerate enough to try.”
Tubbo again lapsed into silence, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked to his piston door again.
“…Okay.”
-
TFC was attempting to organize his mining chest when he heard an ender pearl be thrown, and Mumbo tripped into sight, nearly falling over. TFC snickered.
“Oi, you’re not any better,” Mumbo defended, his ears going red as he made his way over. “Why did you even ask me to use ender pearls?”
“Ah, yeah,” TFC groaned as he straightened, groaning as he cracked his back.
“Can ya keep a secret, Mumbo?” He asked seriously. Mumbo blinked down at him.
“Er— sure?” Mumbo replied, confused. TFC ‘hmm’ed and closed his chest.
“Got a new hermit on the server.” He said casually. Mumbo balked.
“Wha— what?!” He asked, his voice higher. “I didn’t see a join message—Xisuma didn’t even say anything!”
TFC shrugged. “They tricked the system somehow. They’re a smart kid.”
Mumbo tugged on his tie, nervously smoothing his suit jacket. “I—we should tell Xisuma if there’s a new hermit on the server-!”
“No.” TFC said simply. “He doesn’t want to be known yet. Can ya respect that?”
Mumbo floundered, looking towards TFC’s house.
“I—I guess?” He finally said, though he seemed very nervous. “Why doesn’t he want to be known? How did he even get here without us noticing?”
TFC just shrugged again. “I didn’t ask. They just want to stay hidden for now. But he wanted to meet you.”
“Me?” Mumbo asked, incredulous, his face going a bit pink. “W-why me?”
TFC motioned to the piston door in his lawn that Tubbo was fiddling with. “You think I built that?”
Mumbo blinked, as if he was noticing the redstone contraption right then.
“This—” He moved over to the piston door, circling it with wide eyes. “This is my design! I—oh, Void, I must have made this when I was a teenager!”
TFC huffed, amused that Mumbo was able to pick up on that so fast. The more redstone-aligned hermits on the server never seemed to run out of ways to surprise him.
“Yeah, the kid’s smart. And a big fan of yours.” TFC said, and Mumbo went pink again, clearing his throat and tugging on his collar.
“Ahem—well, I…suppose I wouldn’t be against meeting them…” Mumbo said hesitantly, his flatteredness thinly veiled. TFC chuckled.
“Tubbo, ya can come out now.” He easily said. The door to his humble home creaked open, and Tubbo poked his head out, wearing an iron helmet and chestplate from the short supplies he’d managed to gather while living with TFC.
Mumbo’s eyes widened, and he stepped more into view from behind the piston door.
“Oh—hi there!” Mumbo smiled nervously. “Tubbo, was it?”
Tubbo stepped out from behind the door fully, looking nothing less than starstruck.
“Uh—y-yeah, that’s me,” Tubbo stammered, taking a step closer. “Oh my gods—i-it’s such an honor to meet you, I-”
Mumbo went more pink, uttering a tittering laugh as he smoothed back his hair. “Wow! Um—I didn’t realize I had such a superfan!”
TFC watched in warm amusement as the two got close enough to awkwardly shake hands, Tubbo staring at his hand afterwards like it had been turned into diamonds. Mumbo mentioned Tubbo’s mastery of replicating his design for the piston door, and then the two were immediately off, chatting incomprehensible redstone terms and ideas at such a fast rate like they had been friends for ages.
TFC had never seen the kid so animated, and Tubbo even broke into bright smiles the longer he and Mumbo brainstormed. It made something inside TFC’s old heart warm.
Tubbo’d fit in just fine.