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The waves slapped softly against the dock supports as Tommy looked over the wood planks. The smell of water and damp wood was heavy in the air, and it felt like L’manburg. Like home . The wind made him shiver, but he stayed put. Staring.
Tommy didn't know why he was back at the docks. It was stupid. The guilt that gnawed at him had to leave at one point right? He knew what he said was true, even if Phil didn't accept it.
Maybe you should apologize.
Of course not. What he said were his feelings. No need to apologize for that.
Tommy chose to hope that was right.
There was a pain in his chest anyway. Of course Phil wouldn't take that well. He almost hoped for it.
But did he?
Regret loomed over his head like Phil himself was eyeing him down. Standing tall, staring holes into Tommy’s back.
Tommy's skin buzzed with fear. What if Phil was mad? He hated seeing Phil angry. It always managed to make useless guilt bore a hole into Tommy's stomach.
Wilbur was always the one to fend off the flames of Phil's anger.
Wilbur.
He missed Wilbur. He missed when he would play the guitar for him. He missed the hard pat on the back he'd give when he was proud. Hell, he even missed Ghostburs stupid Blue.
Would Wilbur be proud of him for standing up for himself? Or would he be angry too? Maybe he'd stop talking to him. Maybe he'd leave.
Oh, Tommy didn't want that to happen. He clung to Wilbur as a lifeline. If he was gone… Tommy didn't know what would happen.
No one had seen Ghostbur in almost two weeks.
Tommy would never say it, but he was afraid. Afraid the last fragment of his brother was now truly gone. Afraid that his father would track him down and scold him for his harsh feelings.
Tommy's mind faded to nothing. No thoughts passed his mind, not even the fear he held before.
I bet you wilbur isn't coming back.
Tears stung Tommy's face. That can't be true.
"He's still here. I swear he is!"
Tommy sobbed, crouched on the edge of a dock. An overflow of everything piled up in his mind, a crushing feeling of loneliness.
He was still alive. He had to be.
Tommy just needed proof .
But where would he even find it?
He decided staying still wouldn't benefit him anymore, now that his mind was actually doing something.
He stood up from the edge, and before he turned around, a flash of Phil passed his eyes. To his relief, nothing was behind him.
He hurried off the docks, feeling a sudden dread just being there. Walking over the pathways through L’manburg, the air seemed stagnant. Actually, nothing seemed to move. No grass fluttered as he silently walked, no flakes of old, dried wood chipped off, not even the sound of animals.
Tommy stared at the planks as he walked. Old oak, patched with birch, spruce, and even jungle. Dry, untreated planks in awkward angles, covering holes of rotted and scorched wood. All of it seemed to fly under him even with his slow pace.
It felt… off.
It was all a weird contrast from the docks. Those planks were pristine, if not a little rotten. Beautifully built, planks all nice and straight, no chunks of awkwardly meshing oak or jungle.
These paths, paths Tommy had built, were hasty. Recklessly reconstructed after countless explosions and axe hits. Patch upon patch, it seemed like a weird collage.
Tommy stopped walking, shaking himself out of his thoughts. Why did his mind keep wandering, even when he had a clear-cut goal? Was it just pre-wired into his head? Maybe it was a ghost thing.
He looked around himself. Amid the buildings and flowers, he saw two people. One was sitting on the hill next to Niki's Bakery. They had their arms on their knees, talking to the second person, who was behind the counter of the bakery. They were rummaging, trying to find something.
He hesitantly walked over, fiddling with his nails. He didn't feel awkward, per se, but he did feel a little out of place. There was a high chance he was storming in on something important.
As he got closer, the figure on the hill got easier to see. It was Eret, looking… quite tired. They didn't notice Tommy getting closer, but when they looked up to look at the person inside, they stared at the ghost in front of them.
Tommy remembered Eret. The ringing of new memories sounded quietly in his mind, unlike the harsh waves of others.
There weren't many of them, but most of them seemed pleasant. During Manburg, they tried. Of course, there was the final command room, but… They didn't seem to be on bad terms, so Tommy knew that was a plus.
"Niki are you sure-" Eret froze with wide eyes.
In lieu of finishing their question, they slowly rose from their earthy seat. Their face morphed into one of pain.
"So it's true? You really are a ghost." They said sadly.
At that moment, Tommy remembered what Techno had said. His death hurt people. He had to come to terms with that. And here he was, standing right in front of someone else affected.
Tommy gave them a small nod. Before he could respond with anything awkward, Eret continued.
They put their hand on Tommy’s shoulder, probably thinking it would fall right through. Then they pulled Tommy into a hug.
"I tried to think of some way it couldn't be real… guess I have to accept it now."
"Im sorry…" was all that came out of Tommy's mouth. He didn't know why he apologized, but he felt he needed to. He slowly returned Eret's hug.
"No-" Eret started, pulling back. "None of this is your fault. It was a shit situation, and it… it ended badly." There was an unreadable expression on their face.
Tommy quickly nodded, resisting the urge to apologize again. Erets words made something warm form in his chest. Something small scratched at the back of his mind. He's not at fault? He… Maybe it was better to just believe Eret.
Oh, right. He had something to ask.
"I… I was actually here to ask you something." Tommy whispered.
"Shoot me." Eret gave him a small smile.
"Do you know where Ghostbur could be?"
Eret's expression went thoughtful. "Well… he could be in the sewers, ah.. his crane home. I'm not sure though, he's been gone for a while." They explained.
"Have you checked yet?" Tommy asked, his hope taking a small dive.
"I have. There's something there, but if it's him, he won't show himself to me. I sat there for hours and nothing happened."
Tommy thought for a moment. "It's definitely worth a shot." He felt excited. Maybe he could find him on the first try! Wait no, he shouldn't get his hopes up, just in case.
Eret smiled at him. "Well then, go try it. If anyone, Ghostbur would talk to you ."
Tommy gave the other a small smile, thanking them, and set down the path once more towards the new houses and the remnants of construction equipment.
It was a short walk in his mind.
It was a strange sight, really. A weight bearing crane looking over fully built houses. Though the lanterns were a nice touch.
The crane itself was small, rooted steady into the ground with strong foundations connected right into the sewers below. It was carrying a small load, the chain swaying in a way Tommy swore he only found a little scary. Inside, the small room of the crane was empty, save for a few 'windows,' some controls, and a ladder down. He heard flowing water down below.
He climbed down the ladder, and looked around. The water flowed out and down, past mossy iron bars. On one side, there was an iron door, outlined in stone bricks. A small light glowed inside, and Tommy felt a jolt of doubt.
Is he in there? What will he say? Will he be mad or something?
Will Tommy even find him?
Before he could think anymore, he stepped on the pressure plate in front of the door. He didn't exactly know when he started moving, automatically walking to what could be the best or worst part of being a ghost. The door opened surprisingly quiet, and he stepped into the small room.
He saw bubbling brewing stands near his right, and a disheveled bed in the back corner. Lanterns flickered languidly in corners and nooks where they sat. The barrels in the walls were open and messy, some of their items littering the floor.
"Ghostbur…?" He whispered, stepping towards the center of the room. Hearing no reply, he tried again. "Ghostbur? Are… are you here?"
He knew he probably wasn't very loud, but there wasn't much he could do about that.
He heard some quiet rustling, and the wooden door to his left clicked open. Grey-brown curly hair and a pair of dark eyes peeked past the door.
"Tommy?" Ghostburs eyes widened as he opened the door more.
Tommy nodded slightly, his eyes trained on the other ghost. Gold tear marks, a dark stain on his dull sweater, blue dyed hands… he was exactly the same.
Well, you don't really change when you're dead, kid. A familiar voice said.
It was easy to block out as Ghostbur smiled at him.
Ghostbur pulled Tommy into a hug, the sad smile on his face never leaving. "Are you okay?" His voice echoed.
Ghostbur's touch felt different from anyone else's. It felt less distant. More reachable. Like Tommy was actually touching Ghostbur, not just faintly hovering over his skin. He hadn't noticed the difference. Tommy wanted to hug him until the end of the world.
Tommy quickly hugged Ghostbur tight enough to make his arms ache. "I'm fine, of course I'm fine- Ghostbur everyone thought you were gone, are you okay?" He quickly rushed out.
Ghostbur pulled away, hand still on Tommy’s shoulder, and pressed a clump of Blue into one of Tommy’s hands. Where he got it, Tommy didn't know. What he did know was that he felt a little more calm.
For what felt like the first time since he stepped into the house, he took a breath. A steady, grounding breath.
Ghostbur smiled, then sighed. "I'm fine Tommy. I'm sorry I worried you." Ghostbur paused, taking a step away from Tommy. "It's hard to explain why I hid. Wilbur wanted me to protect you, and… I failed. It was my whole purpose- I didn't know you came back." He fiddled with his stained hands.
Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. "Wilbur wanted? What do you mean?"
Ghostburs expression softened, and then a teary-eyed smile spread across his face. "So you aren't a ghost…" He motioned to Tommy's body. "Oh- nevermind, I can explain later."
The blue stained ghost went silent for a second, leaving Tommy confused. He moved the Blue from one hand to the other, faintly worrying about its staining properties.
Ghostbur quickly wiped his face with a sleeve, and hugged Tommy close again.
"So! Please, let's catch up! How long have you been back?"
Despite his small amount of curiosity and confusion, they sped right past the older ghost's words.
Tommy talked of his time with Techno and Ranboo, the house in the nether, any small encounter that wouldn't make Ghostbur worry. Between stories, Ghostbur would talk about his house or his exploration while invisible.
Tommy messed with the Blue in his hands with half a mind to just stop moving it around already. With the mix of his already red hands, he'd leave this conversation purple.
It felt weird. It was like coarse sand, but it didn't fall apart like sand would. Plus, it got darker with every story, but he wasn't sad? Well, either way he felt better. Less of all of life clawing at him.
"What did your afterlife look like?" Ghostbur asked carefully after a long pause.
When Tommy looked up from the dark clump in his hand, Ghostbur was looking at him carefully.
"You don't have to answer of course, I've just seen it change from person to person." He held up his hands, making sure Tommy didn't feel pressured.
"It wasn't really interesting." Tommy shrugged. "Just static and figures playing solitaire." He huffed a laugh.
"Yeah, Solitaire was pretty fun." Ghostbur smiled at him. "Well, Wilbur’s was a train station. Whatever that meant mentally is completely lost on me. I'm pretty sure Schlatt's was an empty bar. Wilbur knows how he explained it but it's a little foggy for me." He shrugged.
An empty bar with three dumbasses playing solitaire in the corner. A voice chimed in with a laugh.
Tommy didn't listen. He was getting better at following Technos advice.
"Why was mine so boring?" Tommy smiled, clearly taking a joking tone with that comment.
They continued talking, shifting from sitting on the floor to the seats in the library, to huddling up on Ghostbur's bed. They talked for longer than Tommy would admit, talking about random things that didn't even slightly connect with the last topic, nor the next. Just jumping from one thing to another, simply talking.
---
They talked long enough for Tommy to fall asleep against the wall.
Ghostbur took as much of the Blue out of Tommy's now purple hand as he could, and moved the younger so he could sleep comfortably in his bed.
He quietly searched the barrels in his house for materials and another blanket, laid the second blanket over Tommy so he wouldn't get cold, then sat on the floor next to the bed. He fiddled with the gold nuggets and a small glass bottle he had grabbed, trying to think of what to do.
Maybe he should make Tommy a Blue pendant.