Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was cold out on the tundra, as it always was. The night time air kicked up drafts of fresh falling snow and caused them to dance in the air like ballerinas.

Ranboo thought there was no better place than here.

The snow had long sense melted through his suit jacket and was slowly burning his skin but by now he could hardly feel the sting.

His tears had frozen to his cheeks. His heart beat slowly like an injured bird within his rib cage.

From his perspective on the hard unforgiving earth, he could not tell were the snowflakes stopped and the stars began.

Some small voice deep in his heart futilely protested against his present condition, but Ranboo knew better. He deserved this, after what he had done, after he had hurt every one,

After he knew that even he couldn’t trust himself.

Ranboo knew he was going to die here, and he intended to do so.

Softly he began to hum. It was an old tune he remembered from his childhood, but he couldn’t remember who taught it to him. Who ever they were, they were long gone now. And soon he would be gone as well. It was his final requiem to a world he had scorned.

The final notes of his symphony.

The notes of his song floated away to the snow and the stars and Ranboo felt free.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Phil’s ear caught a brief hum as he was returning home from an excursion to grab more building material.

The melody was hauntingly somber, yet the music held a mourning type of joy in its notes. Phil was to to far off to hear the words of the song, yet as he approached he realized the lyrics were in another language entirely.

The language of the end people.

There was only one person Phil knew who was fluent in endspeak.

“Ranboo!”

Phil picked up his pace in the direction of the noise.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

There was a gentle hand on Ranboo’s cheek, far to gentle. A voice was speaking above him, a voice that was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

The hands were warm against his chilled skin.

The voice above him was concerned. Why were they concerned? That wouldn’t do.

“Its to late. you know its to late” he spoke, barely a whisper over his frozen blue lips. He meant it as a calming statement, but the figure above him only grew more concerned. Something burned against his skin.

The figure was crying.

The figure was pulling at him. Pulling him out of the snow and ice.

The figure was crying.

“Shhh shhh,,, d-don’t cry for me now. I- I deserve this. Let me h-have this,” Ranboo whispered to the figure as he was cradled in warm arms. The figure was talking to him now, but it was to far away to hear. Distantly he heard the melody of the song in the distance, as if something was calling to him. He knew it was time to go.

With one last look into the crying figure’s blue eyes and to the starry mess above, Ranboo softy hummed the final notes of the melody and closed his eyes for one final time.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ranboo woke up warm. He could feel every inch of his body, and it was warm. He could feel his blood rushing under his skin and it burned.

His eyes rapidly blinked open to see his surroundings. 

He was in a cosy cabin. The fire in the corner cast a warm glow across the wooden floors, and across the soft furs that covered his prone form.

He wasn’t in his bed at home.

He hadn’t died.

He was supposed to die.

His breathing was coming hard now. He was too warm. It felt like ants were crawling under his skin and he was very painful aware of his own blood pulsing in his veins. He threw the blankets off of himself and sat up, ignoring the wave of nausea that came with the action. He curled desperately into himself, digging his claws into the skin of his arms. Distantly he heard a figure startle and call for something, but for now Ranboo was too focused on his current predicament. Why was he still alive?

Why hadn’t he been able to do the one goddamn thing he had set his mind too?

Why hadn’t he been able to do the one thing that would give him some semblance of control in his life? 

control away from him.

His breathing was coming too quickly now, and the nausea from his movements was making black spots dance across his vision. By now a figure was pulling his hands away from their place on his arms, and another figure was approaching quickly from the ladder on the side of the room, wings out-stretched like an angel. 

How ironic, Ranboo thought before the spots fully consumed his vision and he collapsed sidewise into the figure restraining his arms.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Techno had been rudely awoken to the sound of his front door being slammed open. 

Grabbing a dagger from under his pillow he jumped down the ladder expecting an enemy but only finding a puffy eyed, panicked looking Phil with an unconscious teen in his arms.

“Techno-“ Phil breathed out, looking into the piglin’s eyes before turning his focus back to the teen in his arms.

Techno understood immediately. Something bad had happened, he didn’t know what yet, but it was bad and Phil was concerned. More than concerned, techno hadn’t seen him in such a state since-

Since Will had died.

Shaking that thought from his mind, Techno jumped into action. He quickly dropped down the ladder and grabbed his regeneration and health potions. He didn’t know the extent of what was wrong with the kid so he grabbed bandages and medicine and, after a moment of hesitation, a totem of undying. The kid could repay him later if he ended up using it.

He hurried upstairs to find Phil laying the kid out on the table. Quickly he handed the materials over to the man to watch him as he worked franticly on the boy. Techno could finally take in the boy’s condition.

He was always skinny looking yes, but now he appeared almost skeletal. His eyes were ringed with nightmare scars and bags deeper than any kid deserved. His skin was void of any color it had previously held, fresh scars coming in grey rather than a typical red or greenish tone. He was rigidly stiff as he lay on the table, looking almost frozen. With the totem resting gently in his palm, Ranboo looked so very very small and young despite his stature and demeanor.

Phil franticly dumped every ounce of healing skill into the teen that he had, yet his breathing was getting shallower still and his heart beat was fading out in time with the melody from earlier. Phil was just a bit too late, again. 

Seeing his friend’s distress and the rapidly deteriorating state of their enderman friend, Techno gently pulled Phil’s hands away from the boy’s chest and held him close as the totem began to glow gently before exploding in a vibrant display of greens and yellows. 

“Goddamn it.” Phil mumbled into Techno’s chest as color began to return to the sleeping teens face. Techno continued to hold him close in a rare display of physical affection. After a moment of watching life flow back into the kid on the table, Phil broke away from the hug and moved toward the kitchen. Techno fallowed, waiting patiently for an explanation of what the hell just happened. Phil ignored his questioning stare and went about fixing a cup of hot cocoa for the two of them, not saying a single word the entire time.

As Phil beckoned him to the counter with a cup of cocoa, Techno broke the stifling silence.

“Phil, You gotta explain what the hell just happened” 

Phil sighed deeply before looking away from Techno and toward the room where Ranboo lay.

“I-I found him laying in the snow. He-“ Phil choked back something before continuing,”He was trying to kill himself.”

Techno was speechless. The very thought of this kid that he had somehow grown attached to trying to do that of all things hurt his heart to think about. What had even brought the kid to that point? How had he never noticed any signs that this might be coming? His thoughts were interrupted by Phil continuing to speak.

“He was begging me to let him die, techno. It was awful. It was just like, just like-“ 

“-just like Will.” Techno finished as Phil nodded solemnly. The conversation frazzled out from there, both men staring into their cups lost in their thoughts and memories. Eventually the hot cocoa grew cold in their hands and they migrated off to their own tasks, too plagued with memories to even attempt to brave the nightmares sleep may bring.

Phil busied himself with moving Ranboo over to the cot-like bed by the fireplace. The boy was far to light in a way that hurt Phil’s heart to think about. He wasn’t frozen solid anymore due to the magic of the totem but he was still cold to the touch. Phil grabbed some old furs form a near by chest and laid them over the silently shivering boy, only noticing afterwards that he had draped him in an old cloak from his days in the antarctic. The image of this lanky teen parading around in the colors of the antarctic brought a brief smile to his face, before it quickly collapsed again. 

He had lost yet another son. Lost all of them to war, to conflict, to battles that he wasn’t there to help fight. He knew futilely that he had managed to save Ranboo just barely, but it still didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t known about his own turmoil before this whole situation had come about. He collapsed back into an old rocking chair that he had made just after he had joined this world and fell into a silent vigil over the teen that lay in front of him. The firelight dancing over his soft features made him appear younger than Phil had ever seen him. Far younger than he had ever acted to be. He was just a boy with an unknown past that sang lullabies to himself in a language that Phil didn’t know. A boy who took in stray animals and befriended any individual that showed him a modicum of kindness. A boy who had lost his home and his sister and his friends and his own mind to battles and war.

A boy who was just as drifting and delicate as the snow Phil had found him in.

Chapter Text

After two nights worth of constant watching, Techno finally convinced Phil to go get some rest, promising that he could handle anything that came up in the boy’s condition.

Oh how wrong he was. 

Not even three hours into his shift he was startled by Ranboo violently sitting up and throwing the furs off of his body.

“Phil!” He called up the ladder as he rushed out of his chair and towards the shaking boy. Ranboo had curled into himself and was digging his claws into the skin of his arms. Ranboo didn’t seem to be aware of the blood that was beginning to trickle down his arms, but Techno definitely was. Despite Techno’s strength, it was still surprisingly hard to wrestle the kids hands away from his arms. By now Phil had made it to the main floor, wings out stretched in defensive stance. Ranboo hadn’t noticed it seemed. He was still staring at- not at through- Techno. His breathing was coming hard and his pulling against techno’s hold was loosing strength. By the time Phil had made it over to the two, Ranboo had collapsed into Techno’s shoulder. 

Techno still had had his wrists griped in his hands and he was now staring desperately at Phil from his position on kneeling on the ground. His eyes spoke a thousand words to him. 

Tommy used to have fits like this back when he had stayed with techno. Not ones this violent of course, but techno could remember the many times he had woken up to Tommy throwing off his sheets in a frenzied panic that came from a nightmare. Tommy of course always ignored him afterward, trying to put up a cracked facade of strength that techno saw right through but never pushed past. Ranboo was still passed out against his shoulder and the fresh wounds were still dripping blood. He needed to help him.

“Philza, grab some bandages. He hurt him self.” Techno said to Phil as he gently moved Ranboo back to the bed. Phil nodded and grabbed the bandages from the kitchen table and started gently wrapping the wounds on Ranboo’s arms. After the stress of the brief panic had blown by techno sat back on his heels and sighed deeply.

“He’s bound to be up again soon. I doubt he’ll be out long,” Techno mumbled to fill the silence. Phil nodded and gently placed his hand on techno’s shoulder in reassurance before moving to the kitchen to cook up some early morning meal. 

They had really gotten into a mess this time. Techno thought as he climbed back into his chair. And if Phil saw him gently wrap his cloak over Ranboo’s sleeping form, he didn’t say anything.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The second time Ranboo woke up, it was to the smell of something savory floating it from the kitchen. He could tell it was day time now from the bright light reflecting in the widows from the snow outside. He felt different this go around. Gone was the oppressive heat of the room and in its place there was an unnatural yet not unpleasant energy coursing through his skin. 

Cracking his eyes open he took in his state. He was covered in a cape that he recognized as Techno’s. He didn’t remember when he had gotten that. 

Actually, he couldn’t remember why he was here in the first place. He remembered waking up in a panic feeling too warm. He remembered someone grabbing his hands and pulling them away from himself, so that at least explained the bandages on his arms. He remembered a man with wings descending down from the ceiling like some parodied vision of prime’s grace. But before that?

He racked his brain, but there was nothing but fuzzy landscapes and muffled voices singing a melody to distant to recognize. 

By now he had noticed Technoblade staring at him, a sort of grim expression falling across his face before quickly morphing into a facade of indifference as he noted Ranboo’s questioning glance.

“T-Technoblade?” He muttered barely audible to the man that sat across from him. The name felt like cotton in his mouth. His entire head felt like cotton. Techno just stared at him, in a way that made the back of his skull itch and burn in a way that he hated. 

In an attempt to avert his focus from the staring man, Ranboo decided to go grab a glass of water to numb the cotton in his mouth. 

He didn’t make it half way into a sitting position before he inferred how he ended up here.

His back stung. His bones hurt. His muscles ached. He felt as if he had been spun around a hundred times. Nausea hit him like a truck as he fell back onto his elbows. In his swimming vision he saw double the amount of panic on Techno’s face as the man rushed over to push him into a laying position once again. He didn’t fight against it as he was too busy fighting back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

After a moment and a few deep breaths, he tilted his head back towards Techno.

“Man, what kinda mess did I get into to feel like this?” He croaked out in an attempt of a joke that fell flat due to the absolutely pitiful state of his voice. He needed something to drink desperately.

Techno’s face dropped briefly in a way that concerned Ranboo greatly before he reached behind over to a side table and handed him a glass of water. Ranboo gladly took it and carefully choked it down trying desperately to not spill it despite his shaking hands. He looked like an absolute idiot right now. 

While he was looking like an idiot chugging water like a dying man. Techno stood and walked to the kitchen where Phil stood over a pot of potato soup.

“The kid is awake,” Techno said to announce his presence. 

“Oh! Is he doing- how does he look?”

“Hes-“ Techno sighed, “He wasn’t panicking this time. I don’t- he doesn’t remember what happened Phil. He doesn’t know why he is here.” Techno relayed. Phil sighed deeply. The bad conversation that he knew he was gonna have just got worse.

“I- what are we gonna do Phil? We can’t not talk to him about it because then it will happen again. But if we do tell him about it we run the risk of him having another panic attack? What do we do Phil? You know I’ve never been the best at the emotional stuff, and-“

Phil interrupted, “we’ll figure it out after he eats. I’d rather him have a panic attack here when we can help than for him to have one when there is no one around to help.” He ladled some soup into a bowl for him and into another two bowls, handing one to Techno before heading into the other room.

Ranboo’s eyes shot to him immediately. There was a false brightness in his eyes as he noticed the food in Phil’s hands. His arms shot out on instinct before he winced at the pain that came with the action. Phil smiled lightly at his actions before passing the food over to him.

It looked delicious. Ranboo hadn’t had anything properly prepared in, well he couldn’t quite remember the last time. Maybe it was back in New L’manberg with Tubbo and the rest of the cabinet. Maybe it was back at Niki’s bakery. It was a while. 

Phil and Techno sat in the chairs that were next to him. They looked nervous about something, probably something that had to do with whatever had happened to get him here. Whatever that was it was serious, and Ranboo didn’t want to commit to a serious conversation in his current state. So he decided to avoid that conversation by starting another.

“I-I don’t mean to pry, but since when have you had wings?” Ranboo asked between sips of his soup, looking towards where Phil sat. Phil startled a bit at the question but smiled gently. “Ive always had them, but they are a bit injured now since I joined the SMP,” Phil stated simply before continuing, “so you rememberer that from last night, what else do you remember?”

Fuck. He wasn’t gonna be able to avoid this conversation. The soup in his hands suddenly didn’t feel as appetizing as he placed it on the floor next to his cot. 

“i remember getting up to feed my cats in the morning, then going to do some chores. After that it kinda- er- blacks out?” He says awkwardly, fiddling with his hands. Phil looked at him to continue. 

“A-After that I remember waking up here and being really freaked out. I remember thinking your wings were ironic because you looked like and angel and I felt like I was dying.” Ranboo said in some sad parody of a joke that didn’t quite land. His hands were shaking again, he felt too perceived. Techno and Phil were both making a conscious effort to not make direct eye contact but he still felt trapped by their gaze. He took a deep breath.

“and-and then I woke up here. I figure I got hurt pretty bad judging by all this,” he said gesturing with his eyes down to his prone injured form and the bandages that covered him. Techno snorted in a way that seemed to say understatement of the year before Phil shot him a glare. Techno regathered himself and Phil turned his attention back to Ranboo. Ranboo was busy staring at anywhere that wasn’t him or Techno and fiddling with his hands.

Ranboo was definitely freaking out a bit, as anyone would after waking up injured with no memories of how they got hurt. He needed his book, that would tell him what was going on. 

“H-Have you seen my book? That might help me remember.” He asked the two men in front of him. Techno practically leapt at the opportunity to leave, giving Phil a look that seemed to say get this over with before heading out the door. Phil sighed deeply as if he were collecting himself before he spoke—

“This conversation is gonna be rough, but bare with me-“

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Techno stomped through the snow with the determination only found in those trying to avoid something incredibly awkward. That determined path set him in a direct line from his own front door into that small cobbled together pile of sticks Ranboo called a home. It would have been a comedic sight in any situation other than the one he found himself in.

The shack was in disarray. It was an absolute mess of disorganization. It wasn’t dirty, but the cramped space had very little area that wasn’t filed with tables and tools and storage. Techno hated it. Even he felt crowded in here, he couldn’t imagine how Ranboo managed with his much taller frame. There was a ladder that lead down to a basement type area that Techno prayed was somewhat more spacious than the shack that he began to climb down. He would start his search from the ground up.

Reaching the bottom most floor, Techno realized that his job would be a lot easier than he thought as the old, warn, leather-bound journal sat in the middle of the floor as if it had been dropped there. 

The lack of care in its placement was the first thing that set off alarm bells for Techno as he reached towards the book. In the few months he had known Ranboo he had never seen the book leave his side. The second thing to set off alarms was the tiny leaf of loose paper that stuck out of the book towards the back few pages. The last thing Techno wanted to do was leaf through this kid’s personal belongings, but the voices in his head were desperately screaming at him something about this paper in the back. It was too loud to understand completely but he gathered snipped phrases of “important” and “Ranboo” and most concerningly “Dream”. Techno was seeing red.

This was the second time now that Dream had been involved in something that directly hurt a kid he knew. He had known, of course, that Tommy and Dream had some type of history when the kid had showed up at his house all those months ago but he had downplayed it as old history when he sided with Dream to destroy New L’manberg. It wasn’t until much latter after Dream’s incarceration that he had picked up the full story of Tommy’s manipulation at the hand of Dream through his eavesdropping around the SMP. His allegiance with Dream, although temporary, became the only thing he regretted about that faithful winter day. 

Gritting his teeth he pushed away the violent voices in his head that screamed for Dream’s head on a pike and opened the page where the note sat. The page itself was rather unremarkable save for a line at the bottom that mentioned visiting the prison. But the note leafed in-between the pages of the book made his blood boil. 

The handwriting was a hard, clean print that stood in sharp contrast to Ranboo’s slanted quick cursive. The words were simple, and the meaning vague, a simple symbol portraying the writer’s identity. The note read:

Die a saint in peace, or live a sinner in torment. The choice would be yours, but it has already been decided. You and I are included among those who are doomed to live.

:)

The implications of the note left Techno fuming in rage. It was Dream that had caused this. It was Dream who had driven this boy to what had nearly been his end. Dream’s torment over him had backfired from his intention of manipulation. Dream had miscalculated in his efforts to create chaos through using this boy to do his bidding. Ranboo was shy yes, and a bit of a push over, but he would rather die than chose the option of lack of control over himself and his actions towards others. The fact that he had been pushed to that extreme made techno want to break into the prison and take Dream’s last life personally.

Techno felt like the walls were shaking around him. The voices in his head had become more coherent yet no less oppressive with their chant of ‘Blood for the Blood God’. He could not afford to freak out now. He couldn’t be rash. There were at least two kids who relied on Dream being alive for closure, and there were at least three individuals— four if you included himself despite his seeming apathy— who depended on Dream to bring back their family. To bring back will. He couldn’t freak out now, not with a kid that needed his help just over the field between here and his home.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ranboo was surprisingly calm after Phil had told him the events that had lead to him being here. He was far to calm for someone who had just been told that they had died, despite how temporary it had been. Ranboo was unmoving, still as a statue. The only movement was in his eyes. They were moving rapidly back and forth as if he were reading, thoughts flitting before his eyes like some screen play that Phil was not privy too. He had seen this type of frantic look in techno’s eyes when he was about to go into a fight, or in Wilbur’s eyes when he was attempting to decipher lines and lines of text and sheet music. Almost as if the pressure of overwhelming amounts of information were swelling into his mind in one great crescendo at the end of a symphony before bursting with a final refrain of-

“-Oh” Ranboo mumbled before he collapsed in, bringing his knees up to his chest and pushing his eyes into the fabric of his pants to prevent the inevitable tears from spilling down his already scared cheeks. He remembered now. The sting of the snow. The soft haziness of the stars. The stifling quietness of the open plane. He remembered what had brought him there, and he remembered the sifting melody that had carried him away. 

Phil had almost reached out to grab him, to hold the boy close like he used to do ages ago, but he hesitated, knowing that the feeling of being closed in would likely be less than helpful right now. So instead he sat and waited for Ranboo to lead the conversation.

“Im sorry” was not the response he wanted, but he wasn’t surprised by it. 

Ranboo’s eyes were poking out above his knees, staring Phil down with a type of intensity Phil couldn’t place. 

He looked scared. 

“Don’t apologize, mate. If anything I should apologize for not noticing sooner. You haven’t done anything wrong, I just wish I could have helped more,” Phil said out into the open.

“There was nothing you could have done,”

“yes there was. If I had payed attention more or-“

“No Phil you don’t understand, there was nothing you could have done. It- It was my only choice Phil!” Ranboo exclaimed. Phil was stunned into somber silence. What did he mean it was his only choice? In what world is death the only choice?

“Wh-“

“Phil!” Techno was busting in the door. Rage was flowing off his form in waves. In his hand a familiar leather book was clutched. Ranboo’s eye’s scanned between Phil and the door before landing squarely on the book in techno’s hand. 

“I- It was my only choice,” Ranboo repeated. He was shaking again, hands moving to grasp at his arms that were still wrapped in bandages. He felt suddenly queasy, the world spinning in violet hues before his eyes. By now Techno had passed the book and the note over to Phil who’s worry-lines were increasing in depth in his forehead. Ranboo barely noticed before he was gone in a shower of purple particles, gently drifting like the snow that had started up again outside the window. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

While confusion promptly spun into panic in one distant tundra, in another a startled half-n-half boy poofed into existence in the middle of a warm cabin before collapsing directly on to the floor in tandem with a dropped coffee cup from the one of the two residents.

“What The Fuck!”

Chapter Text

Snowchester was peaceful.

Snowchester was quiet.

Quiet was not something Tommy had experienced in a very long time. Every home he had ever had on this world had been loud. Wilbur’s guitar and the chants of the revolution had been loud. Bombs exploding under L’manberg had been loud. The cheering at the inauguration had been loud. The echoing ravings of a mad man in the cavern of Pogtopia had been loud. Wilbur’s bombs and techno’s withers had been loud. Even dream’s cackling over the smoldering ruins of Logstedshire had been loud. But here, in this cold icy tundra, it was quiet and calm.

Tommy had moved in with Tubbo after the resolution of the disk war. He was a bit wary of being so close to the prison, of being so close to him, but he resolved his fear by acknowledging that he could always insure that that son of a bitch would never escape. He was healing, in his own stubborn, Tommy-esque way.

The snow was his favorite part of this new home. It never snowed in L’manberg or Pogtopia or in Logstedshire. The closest he had come to snow out there was when he used dream’s trident to shoot himself up into the stars. The stars had been his only friend then, but out here he was surrounded by warmth through Tubbo’s warm smiles or puffy’s freshly baked cookies. 

But of course the hounds of conflict never heel and instead continue ominously in their drive forward despite all efforts to stop them.

It had been a regular day out in Snowchester, with Tommy collecting materials for his hotel and Tubbo chatting with him about some obscure scientific topic or build project that Tommy wasn’t too invested in past Tubbo’s excitement for it. The day was cold and the sun setting over the horizon of the bay was there indicator to head back to avoid the greater chill that came with the night as well as the mobs that were sure to start after them soon. Tommy and Tubbo entered back into their home after a brief ironic salute at the door to the snowman they had built earlier. 

Tommy all but collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, a deep sigh escaping him as the exhaustion of the day crept up on him.

Tubbo, giggling at his roommate’s dramatics, entered the kitchen to prepare something.

“you want hot cocoa?”

“yes Please!” Tommy all but gasped as he surged forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the counter, sending Tubbo into another round of giggles. As Tubbo went about grabbing the mugs for their drinks, Tommy eased out of his chair to go put on some music. 

He didn’t make it that far. 

Purple particles shimmered slightly in the air of the living room before a figured appeared directly in front of him. A 6’6” enderman boy that Tommy recognized as Ranboo. Startled by the sudden noise of teleportation Tubbo lost his grip on one of the mugs, sending it tumbling onto the tile floor while in the adjacent room Ranboo also crumbled down onto the floor as if his legs could no longer support him. Tommy rushed forward immediately while Tubbo popped out of the kitchen with concerned lined on his face.

“What The Fuck!” 

“I don’t know he just appeared!”

“Is he ok?”

“It doesn’t look like it,”

“-Oh Prime what happened to him?”

“-And since when could he teleport?”

Tommy and Tubbo stood on opposite sides of their friend who was laying unconscious on the  floor, both boys scanning over his body, eyes catching on his many many injuries in concern, music disks and hot cocoa long forgotten. 

Below them heterochromic eyes were blinking open in a frazzled manner as purple and black specks faded from Ranboo’s vision leaving two fuzzy approximations of his friends in his line of sight. Well this day just kept getting worse.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Elsewhere, Philza’s rage was only matched in strength by his concern.

“How dare that bastard!” Phil huffed staring at the note in his hand as he grabbed his cloak and all but kicked his way through the front door.

Techno grunted in agreement, so enraged that the air around him practically steamed. Phil could practically hear the voices chanting for blood in Techno’s head. 

“Ok, priority one, find Ranboo. Where would he have gone?” Phil asked, throwing his cloak over his shoulder and letting his wings puff out the slits in the back. He wouldn’t be able to fly anywhere with the damage on them as it currently stood, but the beating of his wings acted as a good physical proxy for his urge to beat in Dream’s skull. 

“He probably went somewhere he would feel safe with the end being closed off and all.” Techno replied, his sentences clipped and forced sounding. He was trying hard to remain composed, Phil could tell. With a silent nod they began to walk out into the tundra.

General searches of the perimeter and of Ranboo’s shack had come up empty, leaving the pair frustrated. His pets were too obvious a source of comfort. Phil had had a little too much experience dealing with panicked teens, and he knew damn well that if Ranboo wanted to avoid a conversation he would go somewhere that Phil and Techno were unwilling to look. That left two glaringly obvious individuals Ranboo would stay with. 

This of course left a separate issue, Phil had no idea where his youngest son and his best friend lived. 

Techno was once again looking frustrated, coming to the same conclusion as Phil, but now that look of anger held some sort of emotion that Phil couldn’t decipher. Turning his head to look to him Phil sighed.

“well, isn’t this just the best situation.” Phil breathed out. Techno huffed a slight air of acknowledgment before turning away to look into the snow, a tense quiet drifting between the two. It had become well dark now, stars clearly visible in contrast with the dark swaths of void. The emptiness reminded Phil of a city long abandoned from back before Wil and Tommy had come along. A world flooded and stunningly bright in decoration. Things were more peaceful back in that underwater city with its memories that sat stagnate in a folder that had been opened a life time ago. 

Memories from before war and conflict. 

Memories from before he and Techno had founded that magnificent empire up in the Arctic, all smiles and brute shows of power and arrogance. 

Memories from before that boy came into his life, a mess of yellows and soft music and hands calloused not from battle but from his guitar and his bardic charisma. 

Memories from before that other boy had roped his life into a whirlwind of  harsh reds and extravagant ideas of grander. 

Memories that Phil had almost forgotten in the anger and grief that plagued him in this world.

He was pulled from his reminiscing by his communicator buzzing against his wrist. Techno’s gaze was also pulled to the communicator, as if hoping it was a message from Ranboo. Phil knew it wouldn’t be him, but he couldn’t ignore the hope that welled in his chest. He quickly flicked his wrist up to display the message in front of him and Techno.

From TommyInnit: do not try to find him. If I find out you’re responsible for this, ill have your head.

Well that confirmed his suspicions, but it was concerning how quickly Tommy went to message him. Did Tommy really think this was his fault? Did he trust him that little? Phil typed out a quick response.

To TommyInnit: Good to know he is safe. We should come together to discuss his situation, I think more is involved past us.

From TommyInnit: What do you mean more is involved? What kinda vague bullshit is that?

Phil almost laughed at the sheer Tommy-ness of the response before responding.

To TommyInnit: I think Dream is at fault for this, but I’m not sure how exactly right how.

Tommy did not respond.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Thousands of miles away, Tommy dropped his communicator from his hands into the snow of the forest and SCREAMED.

Chapter Text

Ranboo’s awakening created brief chaos in the room as Tubbo and Tommy rushed forward to help their friend who lay on the floor. Ranboo was still dizzy and nauseous from his spontaneous teleportation and the rapid movement of those brightly colored figures in front of him was not helping. He felt hands lifting him up into a sitting position. Vertigo from the movement of color and the after effects of his teleport made him want to spill his lunch onto the hard wood floors, but he didn’t have enough in his stomach to do that.

Thinking about it, he hadn’t had anything to eat beside the few bites of soup he had had at Phil’s. He distantly felt the pang of hunger in his stomach but it was too distant and too hallow. It was almost comforting, that feeling of emptiness.

Tubbo noticed his state rather quickly. Back in the days of L’manberg, Ranboo would have days where this happened, when the stress of the walls or Quackity’s consistent yelling got to him. Ranboo had an uncanny ability to look at a person without actually seeing then. This ability to stare directly through a person and past them. This was not good.

“Tommy this is- this is bad” Tubbo whispered to the boy behind him as he crouched down at eye level with their enderman friend. Tommy was silent.

Noticing his friend’s uncharacteristic quietness he turned back to look at him, seeing as Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed in focus or anger, Tubbo couldn’t tell.

“Tommy?”

“I have something I need to do,” Tommy said simply before stepping out of the house, letting the wind slam the door behind him. There was a blizzard rolling in. 

Part of Tubbo wanted to run after Tommy, ask him what was happening, beg his friend to give him a bit of insight into what was going on behind those crystal blue eyes of his but he was held in place by the weak hand on his wrist and the soft hums of some song that Tubbo didn’t know. 

Both his friends were hurting from injuries he could never heal and it broke his heart.

Shaking the painful thoughts from his head he got to work, aiming for any kind of distraction from the thoughts. No use worrying over things he couldn’t change.

He grabbed two logs from the dry storage in the kitchen, shuffling them into the ashes of the previous nights fire. They ignited in a quick plume of dancing soft yellow and orange hues. 

Ranboo was still staring into nothingness as Tubbo wrapped a blanket over his shaking shoulders and — after a brief moment of hesitation — he wrapped his arms around his ribs and pressed the side of his face into the middle of the taller boy’s chest, listening to the low rumbles of this melody as the shakes slowly began to decrease in their shuddering intensity.

He almost fell asleep there, giving his friend much needed comfort in the glowing firelight. He was only awoken by deep guttural scream from deep in the woods of Snowchester.

He sighed heavily, pulling his way out from under the blankets and climbing up to the icy window. He was never one much for faith, but looking out at the snow and Tommy’s figure pulling out a sword and wildly slashing at the trees, and looking back at the hollow figure sitting in front of the fire place mumbling lyrics of a past that was locked away in the stars, Tubbo held out his hands and prayed to Prime above that his friends would be alright.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tommy was pissed. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, he couldn’t escape the hold of that stupid stupid man. First he had taken the disks, then he had driven his brother insane, then he had pressured his best friend into exiling him, then he had tormented his day in and day out for months until Tommy had considered ending it all. He thought he had been done with this— this game that dream was playing, but now there was a glassy-eyed boy in his living room who wore on expression of emptiness that seemed too much like a mirror of Tommy’s own as he had stood on that platform in the nether starring down at the lava below.

He hadn’t even noticed that his sword was out until he hit the tree in front of him hard enough to send the vibrations back into his joints and for the metal of the tool became stuck in the bark of the tree. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his breath was coming hard. A few calluses on his hand had busted open but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, the pain really didn’t bother him. He wiped the tears away from his face in an attempt of “saving his image” that almost worked if he ignored Tubbo’s somber gaze from the window.

He fished his communicator out of the snow and wiped the water off the surface before slapping it back on his wrist and marching back towards the house. He was ok. He had to be ok. 

Shaking off the coat he was wearing he made eye contact with Tubbo, somber eyes scanning him up and down. He still didn’t like how Tubbo was always able to read him. 

“Im Fi-“

“No you’re not,” 

“Ok yeah sure. Lets focus on helping the memory boy.” 

“Are you sure we can handle this? It seems really serious…”

“We’ll be fine he’s our friend. We can help,”

“Maybe Sam or Puffy could-“

“No, Tubbo, we can deal with this. Adults always mess things up!”

“Prime, can't you just learn to ask for help for once?!”

Before Tommy could bite back with a response Ranboo squeaked out a phrase that shook the two boys from their argument.

“Can you two please stop fighting?” The voice was soft, almost a whisper, and far raspier than either had ever heard before.

Distracting from the argument Tommy all but ran up to Ranboo, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

“Welcome to the land of the living Big Man!” That raised a snort out of Tubbo.

“Hi Tommy, It-Its been awhile hasn’t it,” Ranboo responded. His eyes still had that some what glassy nature too them, but he didn’t look as rough as he had moments ago. It seemed as though the physical touch was grounding him a bit, even though it was only a hand thrown half-hazardly over a shoulder. 

This was ok, Tommy thought, I can work with this.

Discreetly, behind the two, Tubbo shot a message to Sam.

From Tubbo: hey Sam! Ranboo is super freaked out and hurt looking right now and Tommy is really angry. Do you have any idea what happened? Tommy probably doesnt want me telling you this, so don’t tell him ok?

It took a long while for sam to respond and Tubbo had almost considered resending the message when the response came through.

To Tubbo: I’ll be over tomorrow morning. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sam had been in the main cell when the message came through. Dream had thrown his clock into the fire again. It was almost routine by now, sam coming to replace the clock, dream asking for updates about visits or to pass along messages. They were usually messages to bad or to George about this that and the other, sam really didn’t care. The last one was for ranboo, dream said that it had something to do with old business between the two and sam didn’t question it.

He didn’t question it until the message came through his communicator, pinging loudly against the quietness of the cell. 

“Oh a message, what's it say sam?” Dream cooed from the corner of his cell, a sly type of smugness in his voice. Sam was busy reading, putting the connections together in his head. Slowly he looked up and made eye contact with the man across from him.

“What did that message say?”

“What message?”

Sam’s sword was out now, he inched closer to Dream, anger rising in his voice, “What did the message to Ranboo say, Dream?”

Dream smiled, “Nothing he didn’t already know, just old buisness.”

“Uh huh, so old business is why Tubbo just sent me a panicked message about Ranboo being hurt.”

“Wait, what do you mean hurt?”

“Good bye Dream, if you had anything to do with this, just know that I will not stand for it,” sam walked to exit the cell, Dream’s eyes following him.

“Wait, Sam! What do you-“

And in an instant Sam was gone in a poof of magic, shooting a message back to Tubbo after reaching the warden’s stand. Collapsing back into his chair, Sam wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something. What was it with Dream and these kids? Why couldn’t things just be ok for once!

Sam felt angry, but more so he felt duty bound to these kids. They had been wronged one to many times, and he was going to end that.

Chapter Text

Ranboo woke up with a pain in his back. Soft early morning lighting sifted through the frosted glass of the widow pains. Smoke drifted up from the ashes of the fire of the previous night. Taking in his surroundings he noticed the heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he noticed Tubbo’s gently rising and falling chest on the dingy moss green couch next to him. He noticed to quiet humming coming from the kitchen and the tale-tale clinks and shuffling of activity. 

Tommy must be awake despite the early hour.

Ranboo rose from the floor with a wide stretch, cringing slightly at the loud posing of his joints. He still felt sore from his previous injuries, but that pain was mostly passing now, he thinks. He felt sorta numb to everything at this point. He felt— drifty.

He was barely aware of his feet padding against the wooden floors, leading him towards the kitchen. He hardly acknowledged Tommy as he pulled out the chairs to the kitchen counter, only staring at his hands in his sleep fulled unawareness. Luckily for him, Tommy broke the silence, passing him a hot cup of (hopefully caffeinated) tea, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Morning Big Man, you’re up early.” Ranboo hummed in agreement while taking a sip from his mug.

“I could say the same for you. What has you up so early?” Ranboo asks setting his mug down. This was small talk. Small talk was good.

“Couldn’t sleep, got productive.” Tommy responds simply, hopping in the chair next to him and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. They once again lapsed into silence. It wasn’t necessarily comfortable silence, the weight and confusion of Ranboo’s situation weighing heavily on the boys, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t abrasive. The silence lasted for a solid 15 minutes until Ranboo finished his cup. He moved to get up but was stoped by tommy’s hand on his wrist.

“I um- you can talk to me you know. I don’t exactly know what happened, but I’ve got a good guess, and I would like to help, if I can,” Tommy said, tailing into a near whisper at the end. 

Ranboo looked at him. 

Tommy looked back.

Ranboo understood better than anyone what had happened to Tommy. He had been one of the few that had actually visited him in exile. He was the first to know about Dream’s manipulation, but even he didn’t know all the details. For once, his mind offered up a memory of Tubbo walking back to New L’manberg, tears in his eyes, crying on Ranboo’s shoulder and telling him about that dirt tower he saw stretching up into the sky, and the absolute desolate state of the place. Ranboo knew that Tommy would understand his thoughts and actions better than anyone else.

But, he still hesitated, his brain telling him that Tommy had had it much worse, that he was weak for not being able to push through, for not being able to overcome Dream’s control over him. 

But Tommy’s gaze was so invasive. It felt like his eyes were worming their way into his skull and reading each of his thoughts. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the pressure of the gaze and the pressure of his rapidly moving thoughts pressing against his tongue. Maybe it would be good to say a little bit, if only to relive the pressure on his brain and against his chest.

Ranboo tore his gaze away violently, looking intently at the pattern in the stone top of the counter, nervously picking at his nails and biting his lip.

“Its all- weird,” he said at last.

“What’s all weird,” Tommy said, not drawing attention to the anxious fidgeting of the tall boy.

“Its just weird how normal everything is. Like the earth is still spinning, the sun is still rising, the snow is still falling. Its all so normal, as if nothing had happened at all.”

He continued, not making eye contact with Tommy, “I worried a lot of people with what I did. I made things worse, I hurt people, yet it still feels just like the day before. I- its so weird Tommy. I should have died yesterday but I’m still—here.”

Tommy took in a shuddering breath at that last part. It confirmed his suspicions of what had brought Ranboo here; the suspicions he had hoped so hard were wrong. Ranboo was still avoiding his gaze, his fingers picking more violently at his skin now. At this rate he was going to hurt himself.

“You need a distraction— A distraction from all this. It helped me a lot after I tried to- after I left exile,” Tommy got up from his chair at the table and moved towards a chest, pulling out his trusty axe and heading towards the door. Ranboo was confused. What did he mean by a ‘distraction’?

“So are you coming or not?” Tommy called over his shoulder, opening up the door. 

“Ri-Right behind you!” Ranboo called, fumbling out of his chair and grabbing his book as well as a pen. Both boys then headed out into the forest, leaving a note behind for Tubbo when he woke up.

BE BACK SOON <3 - TOMMY AND RANBOO

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Philza and Techno left towards the SMP as soon as the sun rose. They still didn’t know exactly where Tubbo and Tommy lived, but they figured they could at least visit the prison and pass the green bastard a message, hopefully rough him up a bit. 

It was a bit past 8:30 by Techno’s estimate when they finally got to the SMP, and from there it didn’t take long to find the prison. Phil and Techno had stoped a bit on the way to the large black stone structure, getting distracted by the large building that was covered in scaffolding, banners emblazoning the title of the building as the 'BIG INNIT HOTEL’. So, this is what Tommy had been doing after the so called ‘Doomsday’ occurred. The building was quite grand, and both Phil and Techno were impressed by it. Neither would admit it but they were proud of the kid, despite the rift that had grown between them. 

Walking past the hotel, they approached the larger structure, its walls oppressive against the skyline. 

“This sure is something,” Phil stated, breaking the silence and staring up at the sturdy Blackstone walls. Techno hummed in agreement. 

They walked into the doorway of the prison, staring into the purple void of the nether portal that would let them in. Phil took the liberty of buzzing Sam.

To Sam: we are at the prison, we need to talk.

From Sam: We? Also come on through the portal.

Phil didn’t answer, instead just walking forward, Techno following dutifully behind him.

The lobby of the prison was visibly a mess. Papers were scattered and the central desk was disorganized, a dreary looking sam leaning hunched over the desk, hands grasping his hair in strain. He obviously hadn’t slept, but he perked up at the sight of Techno and Phil.

With a yawn and a stretch he sat up to address the two. “Hey Techno! Hey Phil! What brings y’all all the way out here.”

“We have business with the prisoner.” Techno stated bluntly. Sam’s face fell, as if a sad realization had been confirmed.

“Is this about Ranboo?” 

“What do you know about Ranboo?”

“Not much, I just know that Tubbo was freaking out about him. I think it has something to do with the message Dream gave him when he came to visit a few days back. I was actually about to head towards Snowchester before you two arrived.”

Techno turned to Phil and mouthed ‘Snowchester?’ as Phil continued the conversation.

“Do you mind if we come with? I feel like we all have different pieces of the puzzle we need to share as a group.” Sam hesitated, thinking back on Tommy’s discomfort with the mention of his family. He knew that their relationship was rocky at best, but in the end it would probably be for the best to show them. After all, Phil and Techno definitely knew details about this that he didn’t, judging by the deep worry lines and eye bags on their faces.

“Not at all! Just follow me.” Sam stated, grabbing a small go bag of medical supplies and heading towards the bridge that connected Snowchester to the rest of the SMP, Phil and Techno following behind in a funeral brigade quiet.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The walk wasn’t long, the stone brick walls and snow-covered roofs sticking out against the skyline. Soft smoke billowing up against the skyline. The place seemed almost ironically calm to Sam, reflecting back on the chaos from the night before. As they approached they noticed something else.

On the edge of the forest where it reached the shore there were two figures. The shorter tugging at an axe that was buried deep into the bark of a tree. Next to him, sat on a stump, sat a much taller boy, hunched over in laughter at some sort of joke the other boy had made, a book and pen griped in his hands.

And not long after Sam, Phil, and Techno saw them, the taller boy saw them. His laughter ceasing as the trio approached. Noticing his friend’s sudden quietness and stare behind him, Tommy turned, stance defensive. As his eyes reached the figures, though, his stance deflated, and his teeth bared as he spat out a phrase towards the figures at the back of the group.

“I thought I told you two not to come here.”

Chapter Text

The cell had been quiet as ever since Sam left, leaving Dream to ponder his sudden aggression. Dream had known, of course, that sam wouldn’t read the note. He had insured it with the months of sending nonsense letters to George and Bad. He knew that the letter was his only way to get in contact with Ranboo, the Ranboo he wanted at least. 

The boy was interesting. His memory was bad, and he was far to trusting. He was far to innocent. It was almost laughable at how easy it was to climb into that boy’s head. He didn’t put up a fight in the way Tommy did. He held his conflicts internally. Dream had originally gone after Tommy because of his fighting spirit. For him it was fun to watch as everything around the boy collapsed, and the chaos that fallowed his boisterous extravagance. Ranboo, however, was completely different. Seeing this boy collapse under his hold, become more withdrawn, become more scared and more malleable— it gave Dream a rush he hadn’t felt before.

Despite what others may think, the strings dream pulled always had intent. He wasn’t there to hurt anyone, he was just there to revel in the chaos and destruction, sacrificing as many pawns as required to pin the king into a check. The newest news from sam had him rethinking.

Ranboo was interesting. The note he had sent was calculated. Remind the boy of their connection. Remind him of he things he feels so guilty about. Send him into that state where he is so so complacent, a servant to dream’s every whim. The plan had been simple, but apparently he had miscalculated.

How would he had known that Ranboo had grown more of a spine since they last met. How would he had known that he had broken the boy down enough to where his foundations were failing. His intent was never for Ranboo to be hurt. He needed the boy alive, he needed him. 

Frustration was piling high in Dreams head, the walls of his obsidian cell making him more and more angry with each passing pace. Reaching the end of the cell, he kicked violently at the chest that held all those books and he screamed out in frustration. He couldn’t bare to lose again.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The air of the forest was thick. Tommy looked like something akin to a deer in headlights, eyes blown wide in frozen panic. Yet he still held his stance protectively in front of Ranboo, puffing out his chest and holding up his head as if displaying his metaphorical antlers. 

Phil stood in stark conflict, almost inching away from Tommy. He knew that Tommy was angry and scared. He knew the boy held a very defensive disposition for what he cared about. Phil was still dealing with his own internal conflict over what had happened at doomsday, but he clearly remembers how Techno had stumbled back to their house that day and had explained how Tommy had left him, left his fight, to help L’manberg. Phil hated how he had seen it coming, even if Techno hadn’t.

Techno stood like a statue. He was desperately avoiding looking at Tommy, instead looking past and trying to catch Ranboo’s eye. Ranboo, alternatively, was scanning the people in front of him. He felt vulnerable out here, but at least these were people he knew. He was a bit wary of sam, simply because he didn’t know him that well, but he trusted him. With a deep sigh he swung his legs and stood up from the stump he was sat on, ignoring the eyes that all followed the movement. 

“Im going back to the cabin. Tubbo said something about a storm rolling in,” He was ignoring everyone, his words a hot knife through the tension of the situation. He didn’t look back, instead marching through the woods towards the cabin. It was up to them if they followed. They were all here for him after all. This was his fault. He worried so many people, and now there they all were staring at his retreating form. 

He had betrayed all of them, how could they still push to help him.

It didn’t make sense.

He came to a sudden halt in the clearing he had reached. They were definitely behind him, he could hear at least two people walking, Phil and Techno undetectable, as usual. He was pondering, question on the tip of his tongue as he turned to face the audience. Were they and audience? Or were they just unwilling participants in this shakespearian tragedy of his. He hesitated, the silence creeping into his brain, itching away like static. The air around him was humming in that way that made him feel like he was hearing music. 

Was he hearing music? 

No No No! Not again. He clapped his hands over his ears. 

He heard someone talking to him, crouching down in the snow. Since when had he been on the ground?

The music was getting louder, he couldn’t hear his thoughts.

“-anboo? Ranboo! Can you hear me? Tell me what you can see.”

In front of him he saw blond, red and white—Tommy— to his left green and grey and blond—Phil— standing directly behind Tommy was green again this time with black and dustings of red—Sam— and finally, standing in the edge of the clearing there was pink and royal blues—Techno.

He relaid this to Tommy, his voice inaudible over the notes of mellohi ringing in his ears. It was getting louder.

He clamped his hands harder over his ears, screwing his eyes shut and wincing in pain. It hurt so bad. A piercing headache ripping through his skull. 

“H-Hes in my head again. Get Out! Get Out! Get Out!” He was shouting, he could tell by the pain in his throat. He was loosing touch with his surroundings, the shadows encroaching upon him the trees. He was trying to breath in that way that Phil had taught him, but it wasn’t working. It was bad. 

He couldn’t think.

He couldn’t feel.

His head was pounding. He didn’t want to go into his enderwalk. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lose control. His vision behind his closed eyes swam purple, a white smile flashing in his view. He desperately pulled his eyelids open.

Tommy was still there in front of him. He thought it was Tommy at least. Maybe it wasn’t, he couldn’t tell. Noticing he now open eyes, swimming in panic and fear, this schrodinger character that stood before him reached out towards him. Ranboo flinched back on instinct, but the hand didn’t retreat, it reached forward, inching closer towards his chest as if going to reach through him, into his rib cage and grab his heart and pull it still beating out of his-

The hand rested gently against his chest. 

The pressure grounded him. This figure, Tommy he reminded himself, was real he was there.

The music got quieter.

His hand drifted, shakily, down from its squeeze against his skull and to tommy’s wrist. 

The music was gone. Replaced with squeaks of arctic foxes and bird chirps.

He let out a breath, deep and heavy. He felt like he had run a race. 

“Are you back to the land of the living big man?” Ranboo smiled and gently closed his eyes, letting out a huff and leaning into the shoulder of his friend in front of him.

“if I had a nickel for every time Ive had a freak out in a snow biome and ended up learning into someones shoulder, id have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but its weird that its happened twice,” Ranboo huffed out between gasping breaths, eventually returning to his normal breathing, Tommy’s hand never leaving its comforting position on his chest.

Chapter Text

Tommy’s hand finally pulled away from Ranboo’s chest, grabbing his wrist and tugging the taller boy up with him. It was a funny sight, Tommy pulling at this tired, yet still smiling, teen up like he was a sack of potatoes. As he rose up, Phil ducked under the teen’s arm, holding him up as if he was going to collapse. 

“Ill be fine Phil. I can walk.”

“You passed out last time mate, it was terrifying,”

“Wait last time? Do you have panic attacks often Ranboo?” Sam sounded genuinely concered. Ranboo sighed as he walked in tandem with Phil back towards the cabin.

“I mean- yeah I guess? How well would you deal with hearing things that aren’t there?” He asks sarcastically. He was tired and he really couldn’t force kindness into his voice right now. He could feel the concern of the party emanating in waves. He sighed again, exasperated.

“Could we just- could you guys ask me all your questions latter after I’ve taken an Advil for this godforsaken headache? And christ stop staring at me, it itches.” Ranboo could feel the anger that comes with eyes building with his headache. The party awkwardly averted their gazes. 

Finally a bit of peace.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tubbo had seen the group approaching from the forest. He had woken up not that long ago and had spent his morning staring out the window for Tommy and ranboo’s return. He was worried, but he didn’t want to interrupt what ever it was that the two were working out. He was honestly happy to see his two best friends bonding.

As the party approached, he briefly swallowed down his panic at the sight of techno. Techno had killed him once a life time and a presidency ago. His hand floated to the star burst scar across his jawline. But, to be fair, Tubbo had also attempted to kill techno, the scar from that failed execution running down from his hairline to his temple. It all evened out for the two of them in the end, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. 

Anxiety still bubbled briefly in the back of his throat as he moved from the window to the kitchen, grabbing six mugs and putting a pot on the stove for hot chocolate. Being productive was one of his strong suits— he ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he couldn’t just ignore his problems by working through them. The voice sounded suspiciously like Tommy.

Regardless, the table was well set by the time his door was kicked open and the group poured in.

“God damnit Tommy how many times have I told you to stop kicking open the door. Its bad for the hinges” 

“Sorry big T. Memory boy has decided his legs don’t work,”

“HEY! My legs work fine, best you can honestly expect from me,”

Philza pinched the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb, “Boys please.”

Tommy, and Ranboo who was still leaning on him, shuffled into the two chairs closest to the door. Phil and Sam taking the seats over one, leaving a space next to Ranboo for Tubbo. Techno was the last to join the table, having been distracted by the door and its hinges.

It was silent for a long moment as Tubbo ladled hot coca into their mugs. No one wanted to ask the first question.

“If no one talks I’m gonna fall asleep again,” Ranboo threatened. Tommy sighed in exasperation.

“Ranboo why are you so casual about this! You were literally just screaming in the woods about something that none of us can hear. Please just explain.” Ranboo’s eyes floated over to Sam, his lip worried between his teeth as if considering something.

“Ranboo what ever it is, no one here will be mad at you.” Sam said noticing the boy’s gaze. Ranboo barked out a laugh.

“You don’t know that. I know that at least two of you might get extremely mad at me.” He sipped from his drink.

“Please Ranboo just try us. I know I’ve done some awful things but no one here is presently mad at me for them.” Tubbo says, leaning into Ranboo’s shoulder. Ranboo leaned back into the weight.

Grounding.

He put his mug down on the table and closed his eyes, letting in and out two deep breaths.

“So, for the last few months ive- how do I put this- I’ve been hearing things that aren’t- aren’t there. And- and sometimes the voice in my head, it really freaks me out to this point where I go, like, catatonic. When this state hap-happens I basically become very easy to manipulate. I’ll do any task that anyone asks me to do, and because of my memory issues I wont remember it afterwards.” Ranboo took a breath, waiting for questions.

“yeah. I’ve defiantly seen you wandering around the SMP sometimes. Is that what that is?” Tubbo asks. Ranboo nods.

 “Well most of the SMP are decent people. I don’t think anyone  here would ask you to do anything too bad,” Sam comments. Ranboo takes in a shuttering breath. He looks at Tommy.

“One person would,” Ranboo murmurs. Tommy mouths an ‘Oh’. That was bad. Dream was defiantly bad, and Tommy knew that he would hold no bars against forcing a kid to do his bidding. 

“So he’s the one in your-“

“I helped him do so many things-“

“did you want to do them?”

“well no but-“

“Then how could anyone blame you?”

“You don’t understand Tommy!” Ranboo suddenly yelled. “I helped him! I burned down the community house! I- I had one of your disks! And- and I cant even remember how I got them! I can’t be trusted! I- I’m a Monster!”

The room was silent, save for the brief sound of sizzling of tears against skin.

Ranboo spoke again, quieter now, “All those awful things he did, I helped do. And I think I’m also trying to get him out of the prison. I-I just- I don’t want him to be in control of me anymore.”

His skin was itching again. His headache was pounding. The sudden release of all this pressure that had been building up in his skull had him feeling like he was collapsing. His claws were scratching at the bandages of his arms. The silence was deafening. He could only hear the howling of the wind outside, the storm having finally blown in.

In the end, it was Tubbo who broke the silence. 

“I think you’ve had enough excitement for the day big man. Lets get you somewhere more calm.” And with a simple nod, Ranboo was being lead away from the kitchen and the harsh weight of his confession. Tubbo lead him over to the moss colored couch and frost covered windows, and settled him down on it, pulling him into a tight hug as soon as he was seated.

“I don’t think your a monster, Ranboo. And- and id much rather you be here than not” Tubbo whispered into his shoulder as he held Ranboo close.

And with those simple words, Ranboo broke down. Tears were coming strong now, being absorbed by the soft fabric of his friend’s sweater. An involuntary sob broke from his throat and Tubbo pulled him in tighter. With Tubbo gently rubbing circles on his back, and the howling wind acting as a sort of melancholy lullaby, it didn’t take long for Ranboo to pass out on the couch. 

Tubbo pulled away from the embrace as his friend’s breathing leveled out. He eased him into a laying position, and laid one of the blankets over him. It always baffled Tubbo that Ranboo looked so very small when he was sleeping. Turning and pulling the quilt up a little more, Tubbo sighed and looked down at his friend, ignoring the arguing coming from the other room. 

And once he had insured that Ranboo was staying there, and that he wasn’t going to disappear in the night, Tubbo entered the kitchen.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The moment Ranboo exited the room, the table erupted in chaos.

“Sam! Dream is supposed to be in the jail! How does he still have contact with-“ Phil asked.

“I don’t know! Ranboo is banned from visiting the prison! All I did was give him a note-” Sam responded.

“And you didn’t think to check the note first?” Techno all but yelled in Sam’s direction. Before the warden could even respond. Tommy spun towards Phil and Techno.

“Now wait a second. You two worked with the bastard to blow up L’manberg. How am I to know that you didn’t help the man?” He shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the two.

“you really think we would-“

“- well I really don’t know at this point now do I.”

“I would never! How dare you” techno banged his fist on the table, and Tommy flinched at the noise. Yet he still held strong in his fiery gaze towards the two.

“Its not exactly a wrong assumption! You abandoned me with no problem. Phil! You were hardly ever here! And the second I’m gone you turned around and sided with that- with that monster and destroyed my home! The one thing I had left!” Tommy was full on yelling now. Tears creeping at the edges of his eyes. Before techno could respond, Tubbo cleared his throat from the doorway, calling attention to himself.

“Hey Tubbo. How is he?” Phil asks, Tommy and Techno both settling down in their chairs, carefully avoiding each other’s eye sight.

“He’s asleep. And you all are damn lucky that he didn’t over hear all that yelling.” His eyes glared across the room, staring down every single person. The guilt was overwhelming. The weight of what had just happened-the yelling and the fighting-

This wasn’t productive.

Tubbo sighed,”I get that you all are angry, that you have your own problems, but right now Ranboo needs our help. Get over yourselves!” And with that Tubbo crossed his arms and left the room, leaving the others behind to stew in their bad decisions.

Chapter Text

“He’s right,” techno says after a beat of silence. “regardless of our own issues, Ranboo needs help right now. We all came together over that. So lets go over what has happened.”

The group nodded, leaning together conspiratorialy.

“Ok who wants to start. Tell us all you know.”

Sam cleared his throat, beginning the conversation.

“So I’m not sure how much of this pertains but I know that not long after dream got locked up Ranboo came to visit him. He was really out of it when he arrived but I let him in all the same. After his visit I was reading through the contracts and they were all messed up. They had been replaced with ender writing that I couldn’t read.” Sam paused.

“yeah, Ranboo speaks ender sometimes, usually when unconscious according to Tubbo.” Tommy interjects.

“Wh-Why does Tubbo know that he speaks in his sleep?” Phil questioned, looking at the boy. Tommy’s face screwed up in an expression that almost had Phil laughing.

“I don’t know! Maybe they had cabinet sleepovers in L’manberg or something. I didn’t ask-“ Tommy responds in a confused half-stuttered squawk. 

“Regardless,” Sam interrupts,”I banned him from visiting not long after that. After he stopped visiting, Dream started sending these letters— usually to Bad or to Sapnap or George. I read them for the first couple of weeks he sent them out but they never had anything in them so I stoped reading them.” He paused again, collecting himself. The crew of the room could practically see the weight of guilt pressing on his shoulders. Phil patted a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“-so a few days ago, when he handed me a letter to give to Ranboo regarding ‘old buisness’” he put air quotes around that phrase, “I didn’t question it. I just handed it to him.”

“when abouts was this?” Phil questioned.

“it was around noon. Why?”

“So there is a solid 8 or so hours of lost time between when he got the note and when I found him. I bet the note set him off or something, so when he got out of that state, thats when he decided.” Phil said, tailing of somberly towards the end. Tommy interjected next.

“yeah what exactly happened. I mean, I know generally what happened based on what he told me earlier today but I don’t know the specifics.” Sam nodded along.

Phil took in a deep breath, hands beginning to wring in each other’s grasp. Techno placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a nod as if to say go on.

“i found him- I found him laying in the snow. He was practically frozen solid, water burns and hypothermia impacting every inch of him. And- and he was just laying there, humming a tune and staring up at the sky. I-I tried to pull him out of the ice but he just looked at me. And he was- he was begging me to let him die.” Phil choked out. 

He could feel the hot tears on his cheeks. No one was making eye contact. Sam’s face was shocked, mouth covered with his hand in shock. Tommy was staring intently at the grain of the table, head supported by the heals of his palms pressing into his temples. Phil could see the glisten of tears on his lash line, but they refused to spill. Techno had gone rigid, the story having no less impact the second time than it had the first.

“I managed to lug him inside but we were still to late— had it not been for one of techno’s totems, we would- we would’ve—“

“its ok.” Techno comforted. “I’ll tell the rest.”

“The kid slept for about two days straight. When he woke up he couldn’t remember anything, so I went to go get his memory book to see if that would help. It was there that I found this note.” He said, unfolding the paper from his left pocket and placing it on the table. After reading, Tommy muttered a brief why that little- and punctuated his thoughts with a hand slam on the table. Sam was much more calm in his reaction, but the weight of guilt on his shoulders increased.

“I came to confront him about it,” Techno continued,” and then he panicked and teleported here.”

“yeah- yeah. Not much has happened here that would have any weight but I think I can offer insight into- into Ranboo’s situation and-“ he paused, taking a deep breath,”- and dream’s motivation.”

“You don’t have to say any more than your comfortable with Tommy.” Sam reassured. Tommy muttered a brief thanks, sam through a tight smile. Then he began.

“Ranboo was a durable target. From the start dream had control over him because he knew that I had taken part of the fall for him when we destroyed George’s house. Ad this weight on top of his memory problems and fierce loyalty? You’ve got a peak target to manipulate.” Tommy was weirdly objective and almost scientific in his statements, all emotion suppressed in his tone.

“Dream would have known that Techno wouldn’t agree to his favor to let him out of the prison after the news broke of what happened to me in exile. You might be a traitor to me but your still a half decent guy-“

“-thank you?”

“anyway, he must have know that so I figure he is using what ever weird connections he has to Ranboo to try and get him to bust him out.”

A beat of science followed.

“so— what do we do?” Sam asked.

“we figure out a way to stop him. What ever way we can.” Tommy said determinedly. Despite the losses he faced, his leader’s spirit never quite died out. Phil found it endering.

“we can discuss more of a plan tomorrow once Ranboo wakes up. Phill and I ought head home” techno said grabbing his cape as he and Phil stood from their seats.

“see ya tomorrow I guess,” Tommy said, leading them to the door as they exited. Before fully leaving, techno turned to him and looked him dead in the eyes.

“make sure- make sure the kid eats something. I don’t think he has since all this stuff went down,” he stated before turning out the door.

“aww Technos gone all soft!” He called to the retreating figure. 

“shut up!” He called back before he and Phil disappeared into the tree line, leaving Tommy standing in the doorway chuckling.

Maybe— just maybe— this will all work out in the end. He thought before closing the door behind him and collapsing on the couch after moving Ranboo’s freakishly long legs out of the way.

Chapter Text

Ranboo woke up again around 4 in the afternoon. He had slept more in the last 4 days than he had in, well, weeks. This was his body making up for lost time, he supposed.

He reached out with a deep stretch, kicking out his legs into the figure next to him who batted at the limb.

“Jesus man stop kicking me! We get it your legs are long” Tommy squawked. Tubbo laughed a bit from where he sat in front of the fireplace. Ranboo smiled.

“See this wouldn’t be a problem if you had a longer couch,” Ranboo bantered back.

“They don’t exactly make you-sized furniture enderboy,” turbo quipped. The trio fell into easy conversation from there. A conversation full of quips and light jabs and visual antics— mostly from tommy. For the first time in a very long long while the weight of war and of fighting was off their shoulders, and they were just kids— kids who made dumb jokes and even dumber decisions.

It was peaceful. Ranboo hadn’t been this at ease in so long. Maybe back on his first days of the server, when his sister was showing him everyone and everything. Maybe when that blond ball of energy that sat before him roped him into his first major scheme— before the consequence of it held any weight. Maybe back even before this land when he stayed with those figures who were now so blurry he couldn’t recognize them or what connection they had to him, but he could remember the smell of fresh pies and a woman’s voice humming a sweet melody in ender speech as she rolled out crusts. 

He felt longing for that now.

“Hey Tubbo do you have ingredients for a pie here?” Ranboo asked, interrupting whatever conversation had started between him and Tommy.

“What- Are you into baking big man?” Tommy jabbed. Ranboo blushed shyly.

“Y-yeah actually. Niki and I used to do it all the time. I think I still remember some.” Ranboo replied.

“Well don’t keep it to yourself! Show me!” Tubbo exclaimed, dragging Ranboo up from the couch and towards the kitchen. Ranboo looked back at Tommy questioningly.

“I’m not baking anything but I can’t say no to free pie.” Tommy said getting up and fallowing the other two into the small kitchen.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tubbo was surprisingly good at fallowing his instructions despite Tommy’s constant badgering. He had set Tubbo on making filling, ignoring that Tommy was eating every fifth cherry that Tubbo pitted. Ranboo had taken on the harder task of making the crust, mixing the dough and making sure it was the right consistency. 

Eventually Ranboo had gotten into a rhythm of mixing and adding and adding and mixing, humming under his breath.

“Hey whats that song? I’ve never heard it before?” Tommy asked as he reached for another cherry, Tubbo batting his hand away this time. Ranboo hadn’t even noticed he was singing.

“O-Oh! Its an old nursery rhyme from when I was a kid. I don’t remember how I learned it but its in ender, which is why you probably don’t know it.”

“Can you teach it to me?” That caught Ranboo of guard. It wasn’t everyday someone wanted to learn ender speak, much less a lullaby.

“Uh— yeah sure,” Ranboo replied. Slowly but surely he began saying the lyrics which Tommy stumbled over repeating. His pronunciation was— well it was an accent Ranboo had never heard before to say the least. Eventually Tommy got all the words down are repeated the whole song back to Ranboo, enderian warbbles coming out strange on his foreign tongue. 

“How did I do?” Tommy asks looking up to Ranboo who was covering his mouth trying to keep in his giggles. 

“What! I’m new at this don’t laugh!” Tommy yelled.

“No No No! You did great you just messed up one of the words and it was really funny.” Ranboo insured through his giggles. “The line you said translates directly to ’24 black birds’ but  you missed a word and screwed up the order and ended up saying ‘420 black birds’. Which is really really funny.”

Tubbo giggled at tommy’s mistake as Tommy himself pretended to defend his mistake but anyone could clearly see his own suppressed giggles.

“Ender-speak is such a cool sounding language man. Its been so long since I’ve heard it.” Tommy said as his giggles finally passed and he leaned back in his chair. All the cherries had now been pitted and Tubbo was working on combining sugar and cornstarch to the filling while the crust baked.

“Yeah. I haven’t gotten the chance to speak much since the endermen around here don’t really interact with us much. No one here knows any besides Niki, and even then she only knows the few words I taught her.” Ranboo slunk into the chair next to Tommy, stretching out his back after spending so long hunched over the pie crust. His comment sent a spark of confusion across Tommy’s face.

“You do know that Phil speaks some? He’s by no means fluent but he can hold a conversation from what I’ve seen.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah he learned some when he was living off at a city called— prime I can’t remember what it was called. He lived there long before I was born. Some water city?” Ranboo’s eyes flashed in recognition.

“Phil lived in Endlantis? I remember so many tales about that place!” Ranboo exclaimed. It was true of course, he did remember tales and bard song about a cursed city that was flooded, but he couldn’t remember where he heard it. The memory was distant as fuzzy. A town center that smelled of cinnamon and chorus fruit. A lofty bard song of melodic warbles drifting above the ruckus of the city center. A figure, blurry and stiff backed, gripping his hand tightly as the two navigated the hordes of figures just as distant and fuzzy.

“You know,” Tubbo interrupted his memories, “I wish we could visit the end. To bad its closed off here.” The statement was simple but it set Ranboo spiraling into thought.

“The end is closed off? How?” Ranboo was suddenly stiff-backed and staring. Tommy was quick to notice the change in posture.

“I- I don’t know. I think Dream closed it off when he started this SMP.” Tubbo commented, looking between Tommy and Ranboo.

“If your home land is closed off could that me the reason your memory is bad?” Tommy asked.

“My memory has always been bad but I had a thought. If Dream has the end closed off, it would be super easy for him to control the people that typically reside there. If the end was open, his control would fade, meaning—“ Ranboo trailed off.

“—meaning we have a way to get the bastard out of your head without either of you dying!” Tommy exclaimed as the timer for the crust finally went off, sending Ranboo to his feet to add the cooked filling to the pie.

“Well. It looks like we just found the answer to my problem.” Ranboo laughed, true and solid, as he cut out slices of pie.

Served sweet and hot as the fire of determination that burned in the three teens’ chests.

They finally had a plan to defeat dream.

Once and for all.