"It feels like your 'friends' sure rationalized sending you out here to rot quickly. Honestly, I'd want to show then that they didn't break you, didn't make you come crawling back and begging for forgiveness. Make a life out here with your real friend and then they'll regret having sent you away."

"That doesn't-- I trust Tubbo, he wouldn't do that. But he did? And you're--you're not my friend, you're the one that brought me out here-- ugh this doesn't make sense, none of this makes any sense."

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Forget I said anything. Want to go mining with me?"

"...Yeah."

She starts digging a hole, but she doesn't seem to be going down it.

She swaps to a TNT block.

"Wouldn't it be more gratifying if you started your mine from scratch? It would be so thematically appropriate! Just drop your inventory in this hole. I'll give you a pickaxe after, no harm done."

"No it fucking wouldn't? I got these things myself?"

"C'mon, give it a try, it'll be fun! I do this all the time. See?" She tosses some cornflowers into the pit.

“Can’t help but notice that you’ve still got all your armor and tools, big P.” He’ll throw some of his more useless items in the hole, but not his armor or tools or food. 

"Mine weren't charity, big T."

“Neither are mine! I worked for these! What the fuck!!!”

"Oh, silly Tommy. You're so forgetful, don't you remember that you got them from Ghostbur? It's a good thing you have me around to remind you about these things."

“I don’t…” He trails off. 

None of this makes any fucking sense. 

He puts his armor and tools in the hole, along with the pumpkin pie Sam gave him. 

She looks at the pie curiously, gives it a taste. Shrugs.

hissssssss BOOM

"Want a starter pickaxe? Not charity, just a gift from your friend."

He yelps when the TNT goes off; he’s too close to it and the ground shaking almost knocks him over, his ankle twisting when he stumbles.

“Just give it to me for a minute and I’ll get stuff to make my own and give it back.”

She's kneeling instantly at his side, concern scrawled across her face. "Prime, Tommy are you alright? Here, have a golden apple, you could have been killed, don't scare me like that!"

“I’m fine, you’re so—” He cuts himself off before saying clingy. That’s Tubbo’s word. 

(Is it, though? It’s been three days and Paramin’s been waiting by his bed and Tubbo hasn’t visited him once.)

“I’m fine,” he repeats. 

"I care about your well-being." Not like that other so-called friends of yours, she doesn't say. That would be laying it on too thick. "Please eat the apple."

…He eats the apple. 

“Does everyone know where I am? Nobody’s visited.”

"I suppose Tubbo must have told them." Unless he didn't, she doesn't say.

"Maybe Tubbo doesn't know. Tubbo'd visit if he knew, right?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he knows. I told him where your new home would be when he told me to exile you."

"Wh-- when? But that doesn't make any sense."

"When we left. Anyway, enough talking, let's start that mine." She tosses him an iron pick and starts digging into a hillside.

"No, but-- I remember leaving, and you didn't-- That doesn't--" He shakes his head and starts digging with her. "Maybe it's just too far away? They wouldn't just all, abandon me like that. Would they?"

"Focus on the digging, Tommy. It's calming. I'm sure your old friends are having a grand old time now."