Chapter Text
A stream of crystal currents welled down the river, rushing waters shaded by trees of weeping willow. Bright flowers bloomed along the banks, lush with greenery and the croaking of small frogs concealed within. Their calls were accompanied by birdsongs and the near-silent crunching of leaves as a new figure stepped tentatively forward, grinning bright and watching the creatures hop through the shrubs.
The figure knelt down, hands sheathed in oversized rubber gloves that wrapped themselves around a glass jar. Unscrewing the air-hole riddled lid, they reached forward and brushed through the shrubs in search of the ribbiting toads. They hopped away from their grasp, however, fleeing immediately into the rill.
Disappointed, but no less determined, the gloved child edged closer to the water, reaching into the liquid to feel the pressure of the current behind the material. They outstretched their arm, trying and failing to pick up one of the polliwogs with a pout.
"Remember to be careful by the water, Ranboo!" a distant voice called, leading the figure, --who recognised himself to be the subject of the voice's warning-- to gaze towards the shouting.
"I will!" he assured the origin warmly, as if it were more than a blur in the otherwise vivid world.
Returning his focus forwards, he leapt to his feet and crept a few footfalls down the line. The frogs settled on the mudbank wouldn't deter him, and Ranboo grasped onto one of the low hanging branches for support before leaning outward. He could reach further into the river now, outstretched hand mere inches away from the critters that had attempted to escape their newfound friendship.
He strained to grasp ahead, tongue poking out from his mouth and fingers wiggling in the water.
"C'mon, almost…" he mumbled, pushing against the dirt before finally managing to scoop up a small toad in the glass. Ranboo gaped and raised the container, beaming with pride and starting at the encased animal.
"Hi there! My name is Ranboo! I'm gonna call you… Polliboo!" he giggled at the idea, watching his new pet bound around the glass with a heart full of glee.
That is, until it sprung abruptly from the jar due to him forgetting to replace the lid.
He startled, releasing his grip from the branch in a hurried attempt to catch his new companion. Though without the tree's support, he found himself tumbling downward, splashing into the water with a panicked shriek.
Scalding pain crashed over his body, encompassing him on all sides. He scrambled to escape the river's confines, but where he should have been able to clamber to his feet, a haunting shadow blocked his path.
There'd been no sign of it mere seconds before-- no glimpses of movement or sloshing through the reservoir. But as if by magic, it now towered over him. Its face was obscured by a mask, off-white and scored, depicting only an eerily wide smile and small holes for eyes. A hooded cloak covered the rest of its form, and with a stomp of its foot, a weight slammed down onto Ranboo's chest, effectively pinning him under the current's wrath.
Alarms roared in his head, heart slamming against his ribs. His arms shot up to shove the force away, nails attempting to dig his nails into his attacker's leg, only to find his movements feeble and claws still smothered by thick gloves.
His chest burned, and adrenaline flooded his veins in a failed attempt to quell his agony. Kicking and thrashing, tears filled his eyes, only to be washed away by the rushing stream. Even still, his masked assailant didn't let up, and the water soon filled the space in his screaming lungs.
The intense saturation was drained from the world alongside his struggles, fading back into reality with a weighted daze. Ranboo found himself staring at the wall with unsteady breaths, mismatched eyes slowly coming into an unblinking focus. Sun beams flirted through the curtains, and he could make out the dawning calls of Arctic terns ringing through the chilled air.
He'd been taught to think that waking from a nightmare was a noteworthy event. Springing up from the covers with a rapid intake of air, looking around frantically through teary eyes and wild shouts-- things of the like, but he could never recall them ending in such a way. Then again, with a record like his, he supposed that didn't say much.
Heaving out a weary sigh, he pushed himself upright, allowing his blankets to fall to his lap.
"It was just another dream…" Ranboo reminded himself groggily, before the double meaning of his words clicked and a dry chuckle passed his lips. "Heh, another Dream. Yeah, yeah, very funny."
Though now cognizant, a muted stinging still adhered itself to his skin, phantom pains like pins and needles that remained even as their universe melted away. He had to scrub at the sensation in order for it to fully repress itself; wondering why it had hung around, and why he'd dreamt of it to begin with.
He could only assume it had to do with his recent research regarding the Ameles Potamos, otherwise known as the river Lethe, and the subsequent goddess from which it was named. It had taken Ranboo hours of reciting facts simply to be able to retain the basics; such as its course around the cave of Hypnos, and how it was one of five streams that spanned through the Underworld. With all the effort he'd put into planning his codename, it was no wonder the knowledge had infested his subconscious.
Comments to his own mind put aside, Ranboo swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose to his feet. He shook out his hands as he padded over to the window, trying to dispel the lingering tension that clung to his body. It formed knots in his shoulders and left a pit in his stomach, but he chalked it up to anxiety and tried not to turn it into another endless cycle of dwelling.
Peering outside, the day was still young. An early morning with a sky nearly as white as the niveous landscape itself. Fresh tracks dented the flat expanse of snow in the distance, crossing the bridge between Techno and Phil's cottages then pivoting North towards the forest.
"I guess they're out today," he mused, "Probably just needing some alone time after the Syndicate has expanded. Hopefully I haven't bothered them by being around more."
He dropped the blinds.
"Is that a stupid fear? I mean they invited me to join, clearly they don't mind me around. Wanting time without the weird neighbour doesn't mean I'm disliked. They tend to make it pretty clear when they dislike someone, after all," cue each and every time the duo had admitted to adamantly hating at least half of their acquaintances, and Ranboo shook his head to put a stop to his tangent.
"Maybe I'll just visit Tubbo today," he tried instead, "see how he and Micheal are doing. Yeah, that sounds good. I'll do that."
With his mind made up, Ranboo strode over to his dresser and dug through the drawers until he found the outfit he was searching for. His layered winter wear seemed much more appropriate for the conditions he'd be traversing, considering he'd be spending the majority of his day in either the icy tundras or Snowchester. It would certainly keep him warmer than his suits, of which he likely wore too frequently regardless.
Though he did have a penchant for formality, his fashion was admittedly also influenced by the fit of the wear. They, and now of course, his arctic attire, were the only uniforms tailored to his measurements. With his Ender ancestry promoting his unusually tall stature, and also leaving him so rangy and thin, it was practically impossible to find well-made clothing that checked all his required boxes. Therefore, he held onto anything designed for him like a crutch.
The hybrid was all too used to dealing with ill-fitting clothing outside of those times, his pajamas being no exception. The sweats he'd been given apparently once belonged to Wilbur, and though they were comfortable enough, they fell just short of his ankles in length. On the other hand, his shirt was from Techno, and it was somehow far too big and nearly too short at the same time.
Tossing said pajamas aside, Ranboo pulled on his arranged garments and went about the rest of his routine. When it neared its end, he shrugged the thick blue shall over top, and placed his crown upon his head. Boots were the final step, and he slipped them over a pair of warm socks before clipping his height-adapter beneath his left shoe. His white leg had always been marginally shorter than his right, leading him to fasten a platform to the soles of one cleat in order to mend the discrepancy.
"There we go, that should be good!" he said, pushing himself up now with a proper stance.
Grabbing his supplies from a crate and double-checking possibly too many times to ensure that his inventory contained his memory books and other necessary items, Ranboo waved goodbye to his many pets and departed from the house. A bitter gust replaced the warmth of his cabin as soon as he stepped out the door, already making him shiver when the contrast struck.
"Sure is a cold one today," he noted dully, "Not that it's ever particularly warm…"
Ranboo cringed at the daft notion but pressed forward regardless, trudging through the snow and down the undefined path towards the portal. Upon reaching the obsidian frame, he stepped inside and allowed the purple swirls to encase his form, waiting with the typical bated breath for the stomach clenching drop that came with shifting dimensions. Though everyone adapted to the feeling, it never ceased to return, and he hopped down from the threshold when the universe transformed around him. Crackling fleece became unearthly maroon under his feet, packed like stone but with a pliant give more akin to dirt. Similarly, once icy conditions crashed into scorching ones, making any fabric-clinging snow evaporation in a near instant.
The trek through the Nether was especially smothering due to all the extra layers, but Ranboo ignored it easily enough by tuning out everything except his plans for the day ahead. With his sleeves hiked up and mind elsewhere, the eerie bubbling of lava became but a distant memory.
"So first I should probably talk with Tubbo by himself, without Micheal. Parents still need time as friends. Ah, that's still so weird to say… " Ranboo chuckled as he spoke aloud, finding it easier to keep his train of thought aboard its tracks that way. "Y'know, I wonder if that's how Phil and Techno feel about me. Not that I'm like, their kid or anything, but I'm a kid, to an extent, and I'm with them, so of course they need to chill without me there."
He gazed upwards as his boots clicked across the stone platform, the uneven canopy of red arching high overhead.
"Wow, am I really still on about this? You need to get a handle on how much you worry," he smacked the ball of his hand to his forehead, facepalming in self-ridicule.
Spending the rest of the voyage reprimanding his thoughts, Ranboo continued onwards. Out of the Nether, past the portal's landing strip, around the remains of a fallen nation. It wasn't long before he was crossing the soulsand bridge and the climate once more turned frigid, finding himself entering the colony of Snowchester. He passed through the looming spruce, brushing the low hanging branches out of headway as they sagged with powder.
The mansion he and Tubbo commissioned from Foolish to was still under construction, its large scaffolding scaling all other buildings in the distance. It would be a considerable amount of time before the project was complete, but Ranboo was in no particular rush to move into its grounds. So for the moment, he disregarded its presence and focused instead on finding the first house established in the commune. Small, but homely, he climbed the wooden stairs along the side of the lodge and announced his arrival with a knock upon the door.
A series of clatters resounded from upstairs, followed by indistinct, jittery shouts and the door swinging open a few moments later.
"Ranboo!" Tubbo greeted, "Sorry about that, Michael got excited about you being here and tried to climb down the ladder to see you. I guess he must have spotted you through the window, or something."
"Oh, my god. That's adorable," Ranboo couldn't help but laugh.
"It was, but he created quite the ruckus. I think he even knocked a few books off the shelves."
"I heard, I heard. Good to know the kid missed me?"
Tubbo gave a nod and moved aside to allow Ranboo in, "He sure did. I didn't know you were coming by today, though."
Accepting the silent invitation, he stepped inside and let the door fall closed behind him. "It was kind of a spur of the moment thing, I was bored and wanted to see how you guys were doing."
"Awe, did someone miss us?" he teased, nudging the other boy with his elbow.
Ranboo rolled his eyes, "Like you're one to talk, you're the one who had the idea to build a house for us."
"The idea is amazing and you agreed to it."
"I mean, I guess," he shook his head. "Anyway, what are your plans for the day? I didn't interrupt anything too big by dropping by unannounced, did I?"
Tubbo waved his hand, "Nah, I don't have anything scheduled until later this afternoon. Tommy's coming over for the night, and I'm hoping we'll be able to properly catch up. In the general sense, of course, but also because we still don't know much of anything about what happened at the prison, and well… he refuses to get into it."
"You've gotta give him time," Ranboo advised, "He hasn't been out very long, and he's been through a lot. It won't be easy for him to open up about what he's feeling. Especially when Dream probably used those very things against him."
"I know that logically," he sighed, slumping back to lean against the wall. "I just wish I could do more for him. I mean, my best friend died and I was too caught up in denial to even wrap my head around it. But now he's back, and even more traumatized, and just-- I don't know. I'm worried about him, Ranboo. He was already in such a bad place once while in exile. I still remember finding that pillar and thinking he'd jumped, finding out he hadn't, then learning he'd planned to anyway? Sometimes I can't help but think: How many times am I going to lose him before it's permanent?"
Ranboo was briefly stunned to silence, unused to seeing the usually hyper teen so troubled. Too often were his feelings concealed behind humor and frenzied antics, that for them to peek through was an event to stun all onlookers.
"I'm sorry, Tubbo…" he attempted to console, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It has to be hard to go through this again. You're worried about Tommy, and that makes sense. But you have a lot on your own plate, too, and you shouldn't try and bite off more than you can chew."
Tubbo laughed wearily, "You're mixing your metaphors…"
"They go together well!" Ranboo justified, though quickly steered himself back on topic. "And it's still true. You can't take all of his hurt upon yourself, that won't get anybody anywhere. He's gotta be willing to recover, and he'll do that at his own pace. The healing process isn't something you can rush through, and it certainly isn't some perfect, linear thing."
Slowly, the other boy nodded, pushing himself from the wall's support with a sigh. "You're probably right, oh prolific one. I'd apologize for dumping this all on you, but you'd probably scold me for that as well."
"You know it. Now how about we go see Micheal before I keep him waiting any longer?"
Tubbo managed a smirk, "Race you up the ladder?"
"Oh, no you don't--"
In an instant, the two were speeding across the room and clambering to reach the climbing rungs before the other. The duo pushed and shoved, giddy laughter filling the air and tense atmosphere left in the dust. In the end, Ranboo pretended to trip over his feet at a playful jostle, leaving the ladder's span wide open for his opponent. Tubbo quite literally jumped at this chance, swiftly hopping up and scaling the notches, making sure to announce his victory all the while.
"Ah-ha! I win!" he declared, swinging open the latch to Michael's nursery and climbing in. "Do you hear that, bud? I'm the superior father!"
Ranboo simply smiled and followed his ascent. Yeah, fine, he could have this one. Just for now.
Upon reaching the top, he closed the trapdoor to prevent the toddler from escaping and turned to face the room. The area stayed as he remembered designing it; decorated with an array of soft whites, yellows, and blues, along with plenty of family photos and childhood stories lining the shelves. They provided character and comfort, as well as a form of entertainment.
A squeal interrupted his thoughts as Michael tried to draw his attention, the small piglin racing over and bouncing on his trotters. Raising his tiny arms expectantly, he let out high-pitched, excited snorts, black eyes beaming with recognition.
"Awe, look at you!" Ranboo cooed, lifting Michael from the ground and holding him to his chest. His son plopped his head against his shoulder, resting comfortably in the familiar, protective grasp.
"Shit, that is too precious."
"You're telling me," the Ender hybrid agreed, grinning as Michael turned to grasp for the shimmering metals upon his head. He barely managed to graze Ranboo's left horn, it being adorned with a golden band much the same as Tubbo's. "Noooo, Michael. That's not for you."
Tubbo chuckled and tapped his own ring, "He does like to mess with those. I feel as if maybe we should have thought about their obsession with gold before attaching it to ourselves."
"I'm sure it's fine," Ranboo said, plucking his crown from his head and holding it out to the aureate-loving child. It was a sort of bargaining chip, usually working to satiate the kid's instinctual desire to hunt down other jewelry. The crown was big and shiny, and Micheal grunted jovially before taking it into his hands, leaning against Ranboo to admire the diadem further.
"One of these days you're not gonna get that back. It'll be the start of his little hoard."
"I'll take that risk."
Michael shuffled, and Ranboo crouched to let the piglin down, letting the kid hobble off with the oversized headpiece balanced crookedly atop his skull.
The two laughed, and Tubbo looked at the taller teen. "So did you end up asking Techno the questions we had about piglin? But you know, all sneaky-like?"
"Hm?" he questioned, "Oh! No, dang, that totally slipped my mind, I knew there was something I was forgetting. Besides, like, the usual... I did subtly talk with him about zombification a bit, though! From the sounds of things, the infection hasn't spread to Michael's brain much, if at all, which is great news. He doesn't show the classical signs, other than not minding the soul torches we have, so he's still plenty intelligent and could be very capable."
"That is great news! I'm glad Micheal isn't destined to be all goo-brained as he gets older. Superficial rotting for the win, I guess. Just maybe ask about the other stuff later if you can?"
"I will," Ranboo confirmed, and from there, the rest of their visit flew by.
Only hours later were the two able to put the energetic toddler down for a nap, Micheal having chosen a book before tugging Ranboo by the hand in his tactile way of asking for a bedtime story. It was impossible not to oblige, and not even halfway through some nonsensical tale about a village rising and falling in less than a day's time, Micheal was already asleep. Ranboo retrieved his crown and the duo left their son to rest in the nursery, sneaking down the ladder and back into the main area of the cabin.
"I can't believe you got him to nap that easily," Tubbo said, and Ranboo chuckled at the other's shortcoming.
"What can I say? It's my fellow arcane charm."
"Whatever that means," he jeered, but found any further comments interrupted by a rhythmic knocking from the front entrance. His eyes fell upon the clock, device still reading high noon, "Is Tommy here already?"
Stepping over and pulling open the door, they were greeted by none other than the unruly blond himself. His very stance was defensive, holding himself too upright; attempting to be prideful and strong but instead overcompensating his fears. Dark, restless lines had etched themselves under his eyes, and though Ranboo had grown used to seeing the burn scars blighting Tubbo's face, Tommy's still-healing contusions were a bitter sight to behold.
"Hey there, Memory Boy. What're you staring at?" Tommy quipped, one eyebrow raised as he joined them in the lodge.
"Nothing!" Ranboo said quickly, "Just, like, you're here early?"
"I wasn't really keeping time. Just kinda figured, hey, close enough, you know? May as well bless my good friend with some extra hours in my presence. But I guess you're here, too. Hopefully I'm not interrupting whatever the fuck you had going on," the humour flickered from his tone, "Which I totally wasn't, right?"
"You weren't, you weren't. Don't worry," Ranboo assured, "I was about to get going, anyway."
"Right, obviously," like a switch, his light returned, and he sighed dramatically. "I still can't believe you went and got married while I was gone, Tubbo. Not to mention adopting some kind of child. What the hell, man?"
"Platonically married," Ranboo chimed.
"And Micheal has been around since mid February," Tubbo added to the correction.
"Fucking specifics, man. Whatever. I don't even know how long ago February was anymore."
The two hybrids exchanged a glance, unsure of to what extent the statement was satire or legitimate.
"Anyway," Ranboo broke the budding silence, "I'll head out, let you two hang. Have fun with the fact that I'm basically your new brother-in-law, and don't wake your nephew too soon. He's napping upstairs."
Aware his phrasing would cause at least some level of amusing chaos, he bid his friends adieu and promptly began his journey back home; palpable confusion and hearty laughter erupting from the building he left behind.
The rest of his day passed without incident.