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Kill him.
He's in the way. He's useless. You need to kill him. You have to kill him, Ranboo. Kill him. Kill him.
Kill him.
Why aren't you listening to me? You and I both know that you don't have a choice. You're Enderwalking, aren't you, Ranboo? You have no say in what happens to you when you're Enderwalking. But guess who does, Ranboo? Guess who does have a say? Me, Ranboo. Me. And you know what I'm telling to you to do? I'm telling you to kill him, Ranboo. I want you to kill him.
I want him dead.
I'll be nice this time, okay, Ranboo? I'll let Tubbo live, how's that sound? Maybe that's not me being nice, though. Isn't it going to be funny, Ranboo, when he walks in on you murdering your son? Isn't it going to be funny, Ranboo, when you look at him, and he knows that it isn't you? But it will be you, Ranboo. You're the one doing it, you're the one killing him, hurting him. You're the one killing your own kid, right? That's what's happening, isn't it? You still can hear yourself think right now, can't you? You can hear yourself! You're really just too weak to stop me.
Fucking pathetic. That's what you are, Ranboo, you're just fucking pathetic. You'll be crying when you kill him, and Tubbo gets to see that. Tubbo gets to see some useless Enderman who can't even control his powers sobbing over his dead son's body. Isn't that funny to you, Ranboo? That's funny to me. That's real, real funny to me. I think that I'm going to keep you aware. That you'll get to know exactly what's going on. You can't stop me from doing this, Ranboo.
Nothing can stop me. You had a chance, and you fucked it. You fucked up so badly, Ranboo. You're going to regret keeping me alive. You're going to regret stepping onto this world. You're going to regret ever thinking that you could ever have a normal life. Did you really think you could escape from me, Ranboo? Did you ever think that you could actually get away from me?
You were wrong, Ranboo. You were so wrong.
Now.
Kill him.
Ranboo stares at the ground, wide-eyed, nearly hyperventilating. Blood is covering the floor, splattered on his hands and his face, covering his shirt, soaking his clothes. He stares at the body in front of him, the small, small body. Michael lays in the floor in front of him, blood pouring from his body. There's too much of it, there's too much blood, there's so much blood, there's so much blood and he did this, he did this, he did this he did this this was him he did this this was all him he killed his son he killed Michael he killed him and he was too weak to stop himself he couldn't stop he couldn't stop he couldn't..
Ranboo sobs, a silent scream ripping from his throat as he doubles over, reaching up to cup his face, tears streaming down his face, burning down his cheeks as he sobs. He cries, screams pouring out of his throat with every passing second as he keep his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, refusing to-
Look at him. Look at him, Ranboo.
Look.
Ranboo chokes out another sob, feeling his hands being pried away from his face, unable to blink as he stares at Michael's broken and bloodied body. He's dead. Ranboo did this, he did this, all of this was him, he did this. He killed his son. His son is dead, and it's all his fault.
You did this. Didn't I tell you that you'd do this? Is it as funny as I said it would be?
Ranboo curls up in on himself, resting his head against the ground, cupping his ears with his hands, screaming silently into the ground. He can't hear anything other than the voice in his head, he can't hear anything other than Dream, he can't hear anything other than Dream's cackling voice, his scornful laugh, the way he giggles with every word said. Ranboo sobs, feeling his hair fall in his face, resting against the blood-stained wooden floor. Michael is dead, and it's all his fault. Ranboo killed him. He should have been stronger he shouldn't have been so weak. He should have been able to fight against Dream.
He should have been able to prevent this.
He's so stupid and useless and worthless, there's nothing good about him, he's so useless and disgusting and he's a murderer and awful and terrible and horrible and-
"Ranboo?"
Ranboo snaps his head up, turning to stare up at Tubbo, tears pouring from his face. He looks down, stares at the-
There's no blood.
There's no Michael.
Michael is in Tubbo's arms.
Michael is okay. Michael is alive.
Ranboo breathes out, feeling his entire world stop spinning, only briefly. He's still crying, he's still sobbing, he can't get himself under control, but he's doing better. He's doing better than he was a few seconds ago. His son is alive, his best friend is okay. All of them, they're all alive, that's all that matters. "Ranboo, hey, come on," Tubbo's voice is soft, his eyes even more so. "It's okay, big man. It's alright. Did you..have a nightmare?"
A nightmare is not a strong enough word for Ranboo to describe what hell he's just went through. Tubbo moves a little closer, and Ranboo gasps, stumbling back, trying to keep as much distance between his best friend and his son as he can.
"No," Ranboo chokes out, shoving both Tubbo and Michael away from him when they try and get closer. "No, get him away from me. Get him away from me. Get away from me."
Ranboo cannot let himself hurt them. He can't hurt Tubbo or Michael, he won't. Never again. The voices fill his head all over again, all sounding like Dream, all sounding like that man, that horrible, horrible man intent on ruining his life for no reason other than it would be funny to him. Choruses of killkillkillkillkillkill fill his head, his vision blurring, tinted red as he stares firmly down at the ground, refusing to look up, just in case he loses control. The voice doesn't stop, constantly repeating one word and one word only- Killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillki-
"Ranboo."
Silence follows, echoing throughout his head, his ears ringing far too loudly for the world to be silent, and yet it still is, yet it's still completely quiet. He tears his eyes away from the ground, peering up at Tubbo and his son, their son, their adopted son that they found in the Nether together, and he breathes. Michael is sat down in front of him, Tubbo sits across from him, moving forwards.
Tubbo has just put Michael in the most danger that he has ever been in in his entire life.
Tubbo is trusting him.
Tubbo is trusting him, he's trusting Ranboo because he...why? Why would Tubbo trust him, why would he trust him after all the things that he's done, after all the horrible, awful things that he's done?
Ranboo doesn't know.
But what he does know is that he isn't going to betray that trust. He isn't going to betray Tubbo or Michael or anyone that he loves, for that matter. So Ranboo pushes back against the voices, beating them down into submission, forcing them back, squeezing his eyes shut as silent tears trail down his face. It hurts. Crying hurts, forcing the voices back, that hurts, too. It all hurts so much, and Ranboo feels like he's being ripped apart, like he's being ripped to shreds, like he's dying, and yet he does it anyways. He does it because he loves them. He loves Tubbo and Michael, and even though they're not here right now, he loves Tommy and Techno and Phil and Ghostbur and so many other people, he loves them all. Ranboo has to do this, if not for himself, if not to get control over the Enderwalking, for the people he loves. Ranboo breathes out once again, opening his eyes, locking eyes with Tubbo.
Tubbo smiles gently at him from across him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Hey, boss man. Knew you'd come back to us," Ranboo holds his son, squeezing Tubbo's hand far too hard. He sobs, screwing up his face as he closes his eyes, feeling his heart pound in his chest. The voices in his head are gone, everything is silent other than Michael and Tubbo's soft breathing, the sound of their furnace downstairs rumbling to life. "Ranboo," Tubbo's voice is louder now, a little less soft. Ranboo opens his eyes, looking at his best friend. "You know that I trust you, right?"
"You shouldn't-"
"Shut the fuck up," Tubbo narrows his eyes, and Ranboo does exactly as he says, snapping his jaw shut. "Thank you. Anyways," Tubbo smiles, raising an eyebrow at him. "I trust you. I trust you with my life," he pauses. "I trust you with Michael's life. I trust you, Ranboo. I love you, too. I know that you wouldn't hurt them."
"He'd make me," Ranboo whispers, shaking his head. "I don't have a choice, Tubbo, that's why I'm scared. I- I'd never do anything to either of you, I wouldn't. He would."
Tubbo nods, falling silent for a few seconds. "We can work on that," he murmurs, tightening his grip around Ranboo's hand. "I promise, Ranboo, he isn't going to fucking control you for much longer. I'll skin that motherfucker alive. Him hurting Tommy was bad enough," Tubbo looks away. "That should have been my first sign that I should just go into that goddamn prison and slit his throat," he breathes out. "But I didn't listen, and then Tommy died because of that," he looks back up. "I am not going to let anyone of you get hurt again. I am not going to let Dream kill the people I love. He described you as a puppet, right?" Tubbo smiles. "Strings can be cut without damaging the puppet. He called me a pawn, once," he snorts. "But pawns, Ranboo," Tubbo's eyes flash, full of danger, "pawns can be the only thing you need to win the game. And I'm very, very good at chess."
Ranboo nods, swallowing. He reaches up, wiping away his tears, wincing when he feels his face. His tear scars are awful, and he wishes so desperately that he didn't have to have them. That crying didn't make him scar himself. He hates it. "You really shouldn't curse like that in front of Michael." Ranboo offers a weak joke, his lips tugging up in a soft smile when Tubbo laughs, throwing his head back.
"Nah, he'll be fine. Won't you, Michael?" Michael turns his head back, and Ranboo can't help but feel his heart melt. He's got his son and his best friend right here in front of him, and the both of them, all three of them, are okay. Not in the emotional sense, not even in the physical sense, but...they're okay. They will be okay. "We'll cut your strings, Ranboo, and then we'll fucking sew them onto him before I put my knife in his throat, okay? It'll be checkmate all over again, and I'll make it happen. I promise, Ranboo, I'm not going to let him hurt you for much longer." Ranboo nods, looking away at the ground.
"Keep Michael in your room at night," he whispers. "I don't want to hurt him. Please," he looks back up, his eyes pleading. "Please, Tubbo. I'm being serious. I don't want to hurt you or him. Keep your door locked at night. If I go into an Enderwalk state at any point," he breathes out, "I'm giving you permission to kill me. You don't want to, I know, but if it has to come down to it.." he trails of. "I would rather you kill me and be safe than me hurt you. Okay? I know you're not even going to consi-"
"If you pose a genuine threat to anyone else who I love, I'll kill you," Tubbo says. "I'll kill you if you get out of hand," he looks away. "But only twice."
Ranboo has three lives in this world - he can die two times and be fine. The third time that he dies, though, he'll be gone forever.
"And the thir-"
"No."
"Tubbo.." Ranboo shakes his head. "Promise me that-"
"No," Tubbo says, this time a little more firmly. "No. If I have to take your third life, Ranboo, I might as well be taking mine, too. No way in hell am I killing you a third time. I'll figure something out. I'll fucking lock you in a pit at the bottom of the ocean before I kill you, Ranboo. I can kill you twice, but the third time?" Tubbo shakes his head. "I won't do it." Ranboo nods, ducking his head.
"I love you, too, Tubbo. Thank you. For everything."
Tubbo beams at him, moving forwards. He wraps his arms around Ranboo, and Ranboo lets him, resting his head on Tubbo's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Michael worms his way in between them, and Ranboo laughs a little, holding his best friend and adoptive son closer to him. "Love you too, boss man. We'll figure this out, okay? You don't have to worry that much. So long as I'm around, nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing that I won't be able to fix. I'm going to stay with you for the rest of the night," Tubbo murmurs. "No amount of arguing is going to get me to leave, so just deal with it. You're my best friend, you're one of my closest friends in the entire fucking world, Ranboo. I'm going to do everything that I can to make sure you're okay. Alright?"
"Alright," Ranboo agrees, breathing out, feeling his heart calm down in his chest, feeling his head stop spinning. "Thank you, um, again. It..it means a lot."
"Don't thank me, dumbass. I'm just doing what's right."
They sit there, hugging each other in the dark of Ranboo's room. And although his chest is still tight with terror, he can ignore it so much easier when he's got his best friend with him.
Ranboo knows that he doesn't have control of the voices, of his Enderwalk. He knows that. But now he knows that he really does have people to fight for, people he wants to love and keep alive and safe.
Ranboo is going to make sure that nothing happens to the people that he loves ever, and if that includes breaking some of his moral rules, then so be it.
But for now, Ranboo just sits in the embrace of his best friend, and he can pretend that things are okay, knowing that one day, he won't actually have to pretend.