Dear brother, I hope this gift is sufficient

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This work is based off of the song The Hanging Tree from the Hunger Games and events from the Dream SMP

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Tommy stood at the foot of his brother's shrine. It sat on the edge of the ruins of the once glorious L’Manberg.

The blues, yellows, reds, and blacks reflected brightly off the vibrant light of the moon. Stars danced in the sky to the ancient song of darkness and silence, for such elements engulfed the entire server at this hour.

No one stirred, no music played, no voices were heard, and Tommy was alone, so very, very alone. His only companion was the small burning candle he held, which was cupped in a small golden tube that went a short way up the candle. It prevented Tommy from having to hold onto the bare wax.

The flames bended in the smooth wind that wasn't even strong enough to ruffle the boy’s golden hair. The wax dripped down onto the side of the golden tube, but solidified before ever reaching his battered hands.

He looked at the place meant to honor his fallen brother. He had gone mad, but he was Tommy’s kin and he still loved him. He wondered if Wilbur felt way the same in his last days. Or would feel that way if their places had been reversed. Or if in whatever afterlife his brother was experiencing, he still remembered Tommy, and if he did, did he still love him?

Tommy didn’t want these thoughts to overcome and plague his mind tonight. This was his night to visit his brother and he didn't want these bantering thoughts of “Did big brother Wilby really love me” In his mind.

He thought of his brother and his hobbies, and their funnest times together. Wilbur liked words (Tommy was never too great with those). Wilbur liked fish (That one made him laugh). Oh, Wilbur liked to laugh (He remembers some of their funniest moments. And one of his most humiliating ones. He had gotten stuck in a piston and Wilbur thought it was so funny.) Tommy scoffs and smiles and thinks to himself. “Jerk.” And then, Wilbur’s love of music (He thinks back to when Wilbur would play, sing, and work on his songs for hours on end. And he never pushed Tommy away when he wanted to listen. Ever since he was little, he had always associated Wilbur with music, like a bird, he thought.)

Thoughts of his brother threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but Tommy choked them back, he wasn't going to cry on this special night. And Wilbur always liked gifts. If Tommy gave him a gift his older brother's face would light up in a way that made Tommy's heart grow warm.

Even now he wished he could give him… one… last… gift. Usually when people would visit a dead family member or friend, they would bring them a gift such as flowers, or photos, or just little things that meant something sentimental.

Tommy looked at his brother’s shrine. He had no gifts, he had nothing to give. Tommy thought about how Wilbur had always loved making new songs… new symphonies, even if he never finished them. And Tommy thought, even if he was standing in one of Wilbur's greatest unfinished symphonies, maybe he could give his brother one last song.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, his bright blue eyes flicked open and he opened his mouth. “For you Wilbur, and only you.” And then he sang.

“Are you, are you coming to the tree,-”

He paused for a moment. His voice wasn't as good as Wilbur’s, but this wasn't about what he sounded like, this was his only gift to give to his deceased brother.

“-they strung up a man they say who murdered three-”

Dream wasn’t hung but he was locked away in that prison. He had not taken all of Tommy’s lives but if he wasn't in that prison Tommy’s voice would not be flowing these words.

“-strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

Tommy thought of the L’mantree that used to be rooted proudly in their land of freedom, their special place of emancipation. And their national anthem played over in his mind, like a record of memory, playing on a record player of respect, running under the needle of loyalty.

“-Are you, are you, coming to the tree, where a dead man called out for his love to flee-”

Tommy almost laughed to himself thinking about Wilbur’s affection for the salmon changeling, Sally. He never told her to go anywhere but laughable memories are always fun to reminisce about.

“-strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

He thought of all the times he would meet Tubbo in their special bench and talk for hours as Chirp played, and they laughed and were free to just be kids.

“-Are you, are you, coming to the tree, where I told you to run so we’d both be free-”

An arrow was in Wilbur’s shoulder, they were trying to get out of L’Manberg, they had lost the election. “Go! Go! Go!” Wilbur commanded him, and he ran.

“-strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

“-Are you, are you, coming to the tree, where a necklace of hope, side by side with me-”

Tommy thought of how he would have done anything for his country and for Wilbur even if it cost him his life, which it had, both times he had died. They had never been under threat of being hung but if they were, he would have held his head high and stood next to his brother to the end.

(As Tommy sang he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him, he was lost in his song and thoughts of his brother. But they approached and had been there for quite a bit. Some of the members of L’Manberg had seen the light of the boy's candle and wondered what he was doing. But as they got closer, they saw where he was standing, they heard his song and almost took pity for the boy's loss, which wasn't just his to own. So here they are behind an unaware heartbroken Tommyinnit, ready to support the little brother of their first president.)

“-strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

“-Are you, are you coming to the tree, where I told you to run so we’d both be free, strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.

“-Are you, are you, coming to the tree they strung up a man they say who murdered three, strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree-”

On this next verse his voice was not alone, he heard voices all behind him, singing with him, it didn’t startle him, it only empowered him to sing a little louder.

“-Are you, are you, coming to the tree, where a dead man called out for his love to flee, strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

This was the last verse, and he hoped that it was a sufficient gift for Wilbur.

They all stopped, and he turned around to see the people who had come and sang with him. He looked into the eyes of Niki, Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, and Puffy. He didn’t know why but a single tear fell down his cheek.

And maybe, standing here amongst these people who had come to support him, he didn’t feel so alone, and maybe for once, in a very long time… he felt loved.

When he walked away from the shrine that night, the candle was left behind at the memorial for its flame to die out, along with Tommy’s thoughts and feelings of emptiness.

A hand reached forward and pinched the flame to extinguish it. A pale face stared at the backs of the figures, specifically at his brother. A smile spread across the man's face. “Thank you, Tommy.”