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While Tommy had been busy getting beaten to death in prison, Tubbo and Ranboo had moved in together, adopted a child, and gotten married. The fact that they’d managed to do so in the span of three days was admittedly rather impressive. It did still sting, though.
Tommy had found out about all of those new developments a few days after being released. At first, he’d been too out of it and too easily overwhelmed to hang around people. But then the worst of it passed, as all things do in life. And his best friend was the first person he’d wanted to see. Tubbo, who’d never been the most socially aware, had wasted no time before showing off his marriage certificate and bragging about what a fantastic time he’d been having lately. He’d been particularly insistent on the fact that Snowchester, thanks in part to his new spouse’s funding, had grown into a proper town, with a top-tier defense system, and plenty of space for more to move in.
Truth be told, Tommy had stopped listening at some point. He was glad that Tubbo looked so happy, but a part of him couldn’t help but notice that he’d been left behind yet again. Once again, he had nowhere to belong, no one who would choose to be by his side, and he’d failed to make himself even an option, let alone the best one. He was stuck, watching from afar as the world kept spinning.
Because of his distraction, however, he mindlessly agreed to something his friend had said. He knew because Tubbo had beamed at him and had started happily moving about his living room, looking into his chests for valuables. Tommy could have asked him what was going on. Sure, maybe Bee Boy would have been upset that he wasn’t actually listening, but an infraction so minor was easy to apologize for. Really, it would have been the best course of action. Unfortunately, his brain wasn’t working with him that day. Finding a coherent thought among the dark clouds that had formed up there felt like an impossible challenge.
All he did in the end was stare at Tubbo blankly until his friend noticed his lost expression. Tommy had been expecting him to explain once he did, but he didn’t. He just smiled at him, showed off the satchel in his hands, brimming with diamonds, gold, and emeralds, and then pushed himself up and offered him his hand to hold. The blond took it, of course. He wasn’t heartless. He was, however, no less confused than before.
Tubbo dragged him all the way to a jeweler that had recently set up shop in Snowchester.
There, he received a whole lecture about rings. What stones were more traditionally combined with which metals, their properties, their value, and their current popularity. He was overwhelmed so quickly that he didn’t even ask why his ring size was being taken. He didn’t question it when Tubbo asked him what he would have liked, either (he just answered honestly by muttering that any of that fancy shit was wasted on him, like throwing diamonds to pigs). He hardly noticed that they were done, and only realized as much when he got slapped in the face by the harsh, snowy wind outside.
The sun had hardly moved, and yet he was already done with the day.
He turned to Tubbo to tell him as much, and that was when he noticed that his friend didn’t have a wedding band. Thinking back, Bee Boy had bragged by showing off his papers and talking about all of the convenient tax write-offs he could use them for, but he’d never mentioned a ceremony.
Was that what that mess of a day was about? Was Tubbo planning to celebrate his wedding with Ranboo properly? If so, then why was Tommy involved?
They hadn’t cared to wait for him while he was stuck in prison. From Sam’s recounting of events, he knew that they hadn’t demanded his release either. Not even that of his body so as to give him a proper burial (his brother hadn’t received one either, and he had always said that the two of them were the same kind of evil… was it really surprising that they’d receive equal treatment in death?). And Tubbo and Ranboo both knew he’d died. They’d been told. Everyone had. The Warden had been mighty efficient.
The urge to tell Tubbo that, to remind him that he’d left Tommy behind once, and he didn’t trust him not to do it again, was strong. But Bee Boy’s sunny smile as he ranted about whatever cheesy proposal plans he had in mind killed all of his anger and replaced it with nothing but guilt. If he ruined such a good thing for someone he considered to be his best friend to soothe his own hurt, then wouldn’t he just be proving Wilbur right? Wouldn't he be showing everyone that he was no different from his brother? That he, too, would do everything in his power to ensure that everyone around him was as miserable as him?
Tommy took a deep breath and, through gritted teeth, excused himself. Tubbo seemed disappointed to see him go, but he easily accepted his excuse of just being tired all the same. Once upon a time, he would have been able to spot the obvious lie. They’d known each other better than they knew themselves in their childhood. But that time had long since passed.
---
A few days had gone by since the ring incident when Ranboo showed up at Tommy’s door.
The two of them hadn’t hung out alone since early on into Tommy’s exile. As a matter of fact, they’d barely interacted at all in that time. It had been months since they’d done more than wave when they passed each other by on the Prime Path.
So, seeing Ranboo standing there, fidgeting nervously with their hands, while making an effort to hold Tommy’s admittedly always rather intense eye contact was quite the surprise.
Tommy didn’t know what to say or how to react to it all.
Thankfully, Ranboo spared him from having to find the words himself. They timidly broke the ice themselves. “Uhm… I heard you helped Tubbo pick out a ring…” they muttered. Their eyes kept trying to dart off and lock onto safer targets, but they seemed determined to hold on. The topic must have been of the utmost importance for them if they were willing to put themselves through that level of discomfort to address it. Tommy admired their spirit, and, as a show of good faith, decided to look elsewhere himself. As soon as his eyes met the floor, he heard the half-enderman let out a breath of relief. “Uhm, right, well. I was wondering… would you like to come with me too?” they resumed speaking, now sounding marginally more self-assured. It suited them much better.
The idea of entering that cramped jewelry store again and having to listen to yet more rants about how much better life had gotten for everyone else while he was trapped with Dream sounded awful. But it was true that he’d helped Tubbo already (or so Ranboo had apparently been told, because Tommy could only remember putting himself down and complaining for that whole trip). It would have been mean not to help his best friend’s spouse as well. It would give off the impression that he had something personal against the guy when he didn’t. He’d been jealous of him at first, but then he’d asked Tubbo if he was happy, and the moment he received a confirmation, he buried the hatchet. His bitterness hadn’t entirely faded then and there, but it had lessened enough that he could ignore it.
“Sure. I know everything there is to know about wedding rings” Tommy boastfully lied.
He though that his joke had been obvious enough, but Ranboo did not catch on to it. During their whole time in the shop, the lanky ball of anxiety deferred to him for every decision, which was a horrible mistake because they ended up choosing a smooth and simple golden band that he was sure his best friend would hate. It wasn’t entirely Tommy’s fault; at every step of the way, he’d tried to mention that he and Tubbo had very different preferences, but all his protests were met with a vacant stare and a simple nod, and then the conversation was redirected toward what he would have liked and what he could see himself wearing.
His ring size was taken once more. That time, he had noticed, and he had raised a questioning eyebrow at the shopkeeper, but they were busy doing their job and didn’t meet his eyes once. He’d considered asking Ranboo for a clarification instead, but the half-enderman seemed to be about ready to bolt at the first sign of something going wrong. Their anxiety was even worse than Tommy’s, and that was saying something!
That trip lasted slightly longer than the previous one, mainly because Ranboo wasn’t as assertive as Tubbo and seemed content to watch Tommy meander and quietly listen to him ramble about whatever was on his mind (even if most of his yapping was unrelated to the purpose of their trip) instead of yanking on his hand and manhandling him into compliance. And, while that laid-back nature of theirs had helped to keep Tommy in the moment, it also led to the unfortunate side effect of him pushing himself to be all chatty to chase away the doubts and insecurities that kept trying to creep back into his mind. They weren’t as strong as they tended to be when he was around Tubbo (probably because he and Ranboo had never been anywhere near as close, and their nonchalance in regards to his death hurt him less), but they were still plenty bothersome nonetheless.
“That was fun” Ranboo shyly commented once they’d stepped out of the store. Tommy had the feeling that he was only saying that to be polite. He knew that he wasn’t the easiest to deal with when he was feeling caged in, lonely, and anxious. Obnoxious and annoying was how most would have described him. “Do- uhm- how- I mean- how would you…?” the half-enderman stuttered, unable to formulate the question he wanted.
“Out with it, Boob Boy”. Tommy hoped that some light teasing would give them the courage they needed. It worked like a charm with him, and his brother, knowing so, had always abused the shit out of that fact. He’d always been a prideful motherfucker, and implying that he was inadequate for any reason was the safest way to ensure he’d do something.
Ranboo was different.
He didn’t take the bait with the sense of urgency Tommy had been expecting. He just bit his bottom lip and shifted his weight from foot to foot, worry clear on his features. It was clear that he wasn’t upset about the dumb nickname he’d been given, nor in any hurry to answer, but he was nervous. And his voice was quivering when he found it in himself to finally talk again. “How would you like to receive the ring? For the proposal, I mean”. He sounded small and uncertain, but, for once, he didn’t stutter.
It sucked to be made to help even more with a ceremony that he wasn’t a part of. And a proposal seemed unnecessary when Ranboo and Tubbo were already married. He figured they’d just either find a church or another pretty venue to renew their vows, but it sounded like they intended to go all out.
Still, for as wasteful as it seemed, he did ponder over the question for a moment before shrugging and telling them that, if it were him, he’d want something simple and private. No fancy restaurant date. No inviting all the friends and family members to watch. He’d been in the spotlight for so long (ever since his brother had made him into the face of their nation. Every adult that followed had pushed him under it a bit more too, but Wilbur had undoubtedly been the first) that he dreaded nothing more than having such a vulnerable moment be put on display for the whole world to see. He even admitted, while his cheeks burned something fierce, that he rarely felt like he was allowed to say no to things, and that it would have been important for him to be reassured of the contrary.
Ranboo wrote all of his answers down. Then, awkwardly waved goodbye at him once he was done, explaining that they had a few things to set up with Tubbo, but also assuring him that they would stay in touch. That was what they’d told him when he was exiled, and then they’d dipped two months in, so he wasn’t holding his breath.
---
A couple of weeks went by after his outing with Ranboo, with no word from either them or Tubbo. And then, out of the blue, an invite appeared in his mailbox. They’d asked him over for dinner. It was weirdly formal for them to send a letter instead of shooting him a message, and that made him suspicious. He knew that he’d been right in his assumption that it was connected to the stupid proposal when he noticed that they’d asked him to ‘dress nicely’. It was the first time they’d ever cared about his appearance, and there would have been no other explanation.
Now, the problem with that was that, well… Tommy didn’t own anything particularly fashionable.
He used to own a suit, just like he used to have three lives. Through wars, betrayals, and his various exiles, he’d lost both.
What he had in his wardrobe were a couple of shirts identical to the one he always wore and more or less stained (from blood, dirt, or other mystery substances he couldn’t even begin to guess about. The spots that glowed were probably from lingering potion effects, but he couldn’t be certain about anything ever), another pair of beige cargo shorts that he’d been meaning to get around to repairing eventually but were, so far, just hanging there, shredded, and several pairs of mismatched socks with plentiful holes. The nicest garment he owned was the blue pullover he’d recently made from Friend’s wool (he’d been chilling with Ghostbur for a day, and the ghostly version of his brother had seemed elated at the idea of him always bringing some of his and his sheep’s blue with him. He insisted that it suited him. Tommy didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or a grim but fair assessment of his pitiful state).
There was nobody he could borrow something from.
Most people in the server either wanted him dead or were content enough to ignore his existence. Quackity was the only one who’d come to mind that had some fondness left for him, but the man was tiny, a good head shorter than Tommy. There was no way anything he owned would fit him. He’d briefly considered the idea of looting his brother’s corpse in the vain hope that, once he washed out the stench of death, his old stuff would be presentable, but he didn’t have the guts to get anywhere close to the crater that had once been L’Manburg, let alone the button room his brother had made his final stand in. He’d once been brave, too, but it was clear by the many examples he had at the ready that the only thing he was still good at was losing bits and pieces of himself.
In the end, he resigned himself to scrubbing what he could clean, ironing whatever seemed too wrinkly, and hoping for the best.
He figured that the worst that could happen was that Tubbo and Ranboo would be disappointed in him and would kick him out. He doubted they’d let him in if they knew that his presence would spoil their memories of the proposal going forward. Maybe the half-enderman would have considered it; they were awfully polite and had a bit of a tendency to people-please, but he knew his best friend, and he knew that he took no shit from anyone. He wouldn’t have just stood there and let it happen.
Oddly enough, Tommy found that reassuring.
After having spent so much time with Dream (first during his exile, then in prison), being around someone as straightforward as Tubbo was relaxing. He didn’t have to wonder what the rules of every interaction were with his best friend, nor about what a smile could have possibly been hiding. It was… nice. Truly.
Tubbo and Ranboo did give him some odd looks, but they didn’t kick him out.
They’d prepared the table beautifully, with a colorful bouquet in the middle, nice silverware, and beautifully decorated ceramic plates. They’d even lit up some scented candles (they smelled of lemons; it was subtle enough that even with how sensitive Tommy had been after his revival, it didn’t overwhelm his senses) and spread them around the room to create a nice ambiance.
With all of that preparation, Tommy was surprised he’d been the only guest. He supposed that Ranboo had taken his advice on keeping things private, and he was kinda regretting giving it now. Such a waste.
Despite the nice suits both of his friends were wearing and the expensive-looking setup, the dinner didn’t feel any different from how he imagined their usual dinners to be. They chatted, drank some old ass wine that tasted vaguely of vinegar, ate plenty of take-out burgers, and had a generally good time. By the time they reached the dessert, Tommy had forgotten why he was there. The reminder arrived in the form of two simple golden bands resting on his slice of barely edible spaghetti cake.
His mind started buzzing.
Was there something he’d been meant to do? Was he the one who was supposed to hand those over? He didn’t know which one belonged to whom; they were identical!
He was so panicked that he barely noticed it when Tubbo started giving a small speech, and only agreed to whatever was being asked of him out of habit. Tommy had meant it when he’d mentioned that he wasn’t good at saying no to people. It had been ingrained in him early on that he was supposed to obey. When what was expected of him was something he disagreed with strongly, he went along with it still, but very begrudgingly. That was about all the resistance he was able to show.
Still, whatever he’d agreed to had seemingly drained the tension from his buddies. They were cheering and hugging him, even if he’d failed to understand what he was supposed to do with the rings. His worry hadn’t subsided, but it was nice to see them enjoying themselves despite his fuck-ups. So, despite his panic, he did eventually let himself be swept up by their enthusiasm.
---
On the day of the wedding, Tommy was standing by the altar in a white dress (Tubbo had picked it out for him. He assumed that his best friend didn’t want a repeat of him showing up in his crappy clothes at an important event. That, and he had been pretty horrified when Tommy had admitted that those were the best he had). The golden bands he’d been given to momentarily hold onto during the proposal rested on a cushion on Michael’s lap. Bad was waiting in his pristine priestly outfit to his right, looking patiently at the walkway Tubbo and Ranboo would soon traverse, hand in hand. Plenty of people were in attendance, quite a few of them that Tommy didn’t even know were friends with the two grooms, like Technoblade and Philza (both of whom seemed to be eyeing him with an undecipherable mix of emotions).
Standing there alone was nerve-racking.
Tommy only started breathing again when Tubbo and Ranboo showed up. They were wearing matching suits, and his best friend had even gotten a haircut for once. Instead of bushy curls covering most of his face, his hair had been combed back and was being held in place by a golden circlet that matched the finer details in both his and his spouse’s clothing. They looked great together. He probably would have been happier for them had he not still been wrestling with his jealousy.
They weren’t leaving him out that time around. He was there. And they’d gone out of their way to include him at every step of the way. But he knew that the wedding marked the end of an era. Soon, they would have their own sappy couple routine, and he would once more be left by the wayside. He would no longer be useful. No longer be needed. And nobody ever wanted to hang out with him beyond that point (aside from Dream, but he would rather have died again than be friendly with that guy).
Tubbo and Ranboo reached the altar, and they went to stand on either side of Tommy. That felt strange to him, but a quick glance around the place revealed that no one else was bothered by the move, so he just shrugged it off as a moment of ignorance on his part. He’d never claimed to be an expert in weddings, just about the rings used in them.
With his dreadful attention span, his thoughts wandered off when Bad started speaking. He only clocked back in when the demon addressed him directly. “Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit Soot Craft, do you take Tubbo Underscore and Ranboo Beloved to be your lawfully wed spouses, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”. His glowing white eyes were unwavering, his voice calm and steady; he clearly thought that he knew what he was doing, and, to his credit, nobody tried to correct him.
Tommy blinked.
Oh.
“… is this my wedding?” he asked dumbly after a good fifteen seconds of silence.
That managed to break Bad’s professional facade. His eyes went wide, his jaw went slack. The rest of the people present didn’t take it much better. He heard several gasps of surprise, Techno’s iconic ‘Heh?!’, a startled laugh from Phil, and a few assorted expressions of befuddlement. Tubbo and Ranboo, too, were looking at him as if he’d just hit his head and spouted off some nonsense.
“Are you- are you being serious right now?” Tubbo was the one to eventually attempt to talk to Tommy. He’d expected him to sound frustrated at his stupidity, but there was only mystified amusement in his tone. “You said yes. Several times. You picked your rings, and Ranboo even checked in with you on how you wanted the proposal to go down. And you’re wearing a wedding dress! How- how did you not realize until right now?”.
When he put it like that, it did sound like Tommy was a bit of a moron. And he was willing to mostly accept that judgment since, for once, it was deserved. But he wouldn’t just take it lying down. That wasn’t in his nature. “I died not too long ago, Tubbo. I’ve been dissociating through life for months now. I say yes to most things. That’s just… It’s what feels safest” he pointed out.
Immediately, the mood among the wedding attendees plummeted.
He hadn’t meant to sour everything, but miscommunication was what had led them to that point. Being direct was the only way he knew to fix things. Some people’s feelings would be hurt by the honesty; he was one of them. Shooting down his ticket to a cushy life surrounded by people only exacerbated his anxiety and loneliness, but it had to be done. Story of his life.
Tubbo conceded his point with a nod. “Well… now that you know… do you still want it? Because, if you don’t, that’s fine. I have a sword. I can chase these people out right now”. To demonstrate, he even pulled out a nicely-crafted enchanted netherite sword that had quite a few people looking nervous. Including Ranboo, who had gone even paler than they did at Tommy’s revelation.
“Wait- I still can?!” Tommy asked, surprised.
After messing up things repeatedly, he didn’t think he’d be given another chance to belong. He was usually the one to hand those out like candies on Halloween; nobody had thus far repaid the favor.
“Of course, Boss Man! You’re my best friend. There isn’t a world out there where I wouldn’t want you by my side forever!” Tubbo responded, happy as one could be.
That final yes was the first one he knew that he wouldn’t regret without a shadow of a doubt.