Chapter Text
The walls of the motel room are yellow and scuffed. There are socks scattered across the floor, and Tommy is asleep facedown on one of the beds, tennis shoes still on. The television is playing a monster movie no one is watching, and there are empty pizza boxes on the dresser. It’s chaotic, unsanitary, and cluttered, a far far cry from the sterile box that was Ranboo’s home for almost five months, and he’s desperately, achingly grateful for it.
Tubbo’s asleep, or pretty close to it, curled up at Ranboo’s side on the other bed, laying on top of the covers. He’s not too far from sleep himself. He’s got one of Techno’s t-shirts on, the one that says sic semper tyrannis in an overdramatic gothic script, and a pair of pajama pants that barely fit. The standard motel alarm clock announces that it’s almost three in the morning. On the tiny TV screen, two CGI monsters destroy half of Tokyo.
It’s perfect.
The door creaks gently, and a wash of cool spring air filters into the room as a man steps through. He’s got a maroon beanie shoved over dark curls, an oversized coat, a plastic bag in hand, and when he sees Ranboo he smiles wide and genuine. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey Wil,” Ranboo says, and grins. “It’s good to see you.”
“Fuckin’ good to see you too,” Wilbur comes to ruffle his hair. “How’re you feeling?”
“Okay. Good. Really good, honestly. Is Charlie coming?”
“Slimecicle? Nah, left him behind with the plane. Had to make sure someone was there if we needed to make a quick getaway.”
“I bet he’s pretty happy about that.”
“Downright pissed, but I told him he’d see you in the morning. Please tell me you have pizza left.”
“Only if you don’t mind cold pineapple.”
Wilbur snags a slice from one of the greasy boxes and sits down on the end of the bed, depositing the plastic bag on the nightstand. Tubbo stirs but doesn’t wake. “Where’d the old men go?”
“Techno’s keeping watch, I think. He’s worried we were followed. And your dad is making calls out back.”
Wilbur scarfs the pizza and his hand goes searching for another and comes up empty. “He told me he’s making arrangements with the Syndicate to get us all out of the country. Somewhere to settle down until it all blows over. Somewhere warm I hope. Niki has a place in Greece we could probably borrow, while she’s in the U.S. By the way,” he adds, taking the empty boxes and trying to shove them in the too-small trashcan, “she’s got your cat.”
“Enderchest?”
“Yeah, Phil gave him to her to look after while he and Techno were gone. Maybe she can send him to wherever we end up. I bet he misses you, dumb cat.”
“Aw, come on, you can’t call my cat dumb!”
“I call it like I see it,” Wilbur shrugs cheerfully and walks over to empty the plastic bag. “I stopped by the drugstore and grabbed some things. Phil said you needed burn cream, and I’ve got some painkillers too.”
“Thanks.” He begins to unwind the makeshift bandaging around his neck that Techno has done. He doesn’t have a mirror, but he sees Wilbur's wince as the burns come into view, layers of scar tissue and scorched black and white skin.
“Let me help,” he offers, sitting back down on the bed, and begins gently applying the cream to the back of Ranboo’s neck. “Fuck kid, they really did a number on you, didn’t they.”
“I’m out.” Ranboo rasps, because really, now, right now, it’s all that matters. “It’s over.”
“Hell yes, it is. We’re going to get you boys out of here.”
“Tubbo and Tommy--”
“Coming with us. They’re under Syndicate protection now too.”
Ranboo looks down a little sadly at Tubbo, brown hair covering his eyes, snoring quietly. “I told him I’d get him home.”
“He will, don’t worry.” Wilbur finishes with the cream and begins pulling out fresh bandages. “It won’t be long. But if any of the DreamTech people go looking for someone to blame, or your Doctor heads out for revenge, they’re the easiest targets. Phil will talk to their parents, make sure the situation is explained. It’s basically a vacation for them.”
“Still, I promised.”
“And you’ll keep it.” Wilbur grins gently down at the sleeping boy. “He’s a good kid.”
“The best.”
“And he probably won’t mind it. He’ll miss all his tests.”
“Sorry I can’t get to finals, I had to break a hybrid out of a high-security lab and flee the country.” Tubbo stirs and grins. Either he’s having a good dream, or he’s listening in on the conversation. Ranboo wouldn’t put it past him. He buries his hand in his friend’s hair and sighs dramatically. “Phil’s probably got so much school work for me to make up, doesn’t he?”
Wilbur laughs. “I doubt that will be a problem. Now that he’s got you back he’d probably give you a pony if you wanted it.” his voice drops an octave, suddenly serious. “They were so scared for you. They’ve been looking ever since-- you should have seen them-- when they realized-- I’ve never seen my Dad like that. Ever. Phil’s usually so chill, y’know, but I swear he’d have dismantled the whole Bay Area brick by brick if he thought it would get you back. Techno too.”
Ranboo feels something fierce and warm in his chest. Even though it was over, now, and he supposed it didn’t really matter---
They’d never given up on him. They’d been looking. They had cared.
“I used to count the days,” he admits. “I think it took me a month to think… to be afraid they wouldn’t come.”
“But we did.” Phil is standing in the doorway, having arrived silently in the way only he can. “I’m sorry it took so long mate.”
“It’s alright. It’s over,” he repeats as if he can’t quite believe it. Maybe he can’t. “It’s over now.”
Wilbur stands up and rifles through the bag for a rattling bottle of painkillers, and tosses them over. “Better take a few and get some sleep, kid.”
“I’m not tired,” Ranboo says and immediately gives a yawn of inhuman proportion. Phil chuckles and comes over to help him beneath the covers. Tubbo mumbles and smacks him in the face with an unseeing arm, which makes Wilbur laugh as he turns off the TV.
“Sleep,” Phil says. “We’ll be right here.”
And Ranboo, despite himself, drifts off, curled around Tubbo, halfway buried in pillows, smiling without meaning to.
And all is quiet.