Chapter Text
“And here’s a book we made detailing his bedtime routine, waking up routine, and mealtime routines, along with a list of his favorite and least favorite songs, books, and activities- we color coded it last night to make it easier for you guys, ha. And his books are in that bag, his toys are in the duffle, and we made sure to put his snacks in there too… oh! And all of his outfits are folded and organized in the duffle on top of the toy duffle. Is there anything I’m forgetting…” Ranboo looked over at Tubbo for reassurance.
The book was placed into Puffy’s hands, and she made eye contact with the —obviously painstakingly sketched— portrait of Micheal on the cover. She sighed, “Uh, I sure hope not.”
“Oh!” Tubbo suddenly remembered, “His bath supplies are in the shower caddy bag. We included detailed instructions on bathtime in the fourth chapter of the care manual.”
Puffy was beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed… and she hadn’t actually seen Micheal yet.
“So, where… is Micheal?”
“Hmm? He’s right here!” The dads stepped aside as if they were stage curtains revealing the opening act— and there he was, The Star; A tiny zombie pigman standing between Tubbo and Ranboo, in a knitted yellow sweater and brown corduroy pants, blinking up at her.
“Hi, Micheal!” Puffy knelt down to his level.
Ranboo placed a hand on Micheal’s shoulder, saying, “His vocal cords are damaged, because he’s half zombie, y’know? He… doesn’t actually speak.”
“That’s fine! I’m looking forward to spending the week with you, Micheal!” She smiled at him, and she could’ve sworn he smiled back.
After many rounds of hugs and kisses for Micheal and reassurances that they would be back no later than one week, (actually maybe five days… maybe three days… you know what? Maybe we don’t need to leave at all!) Tubbo and Ranboo were out the door with hastily wiped away tears in their eyes, and Puffy was left with a U-Haul truck’s worth of Micheal’s stuff.
And Micheal.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the SMP to find out that Micheal was out of house arrest, and Fundy was the first visitor.
Puffy and Micheal were making bead necklaces at the coffee table when there was a knock at the window.
Chapter One of “Micheal’s Biography” as Puffy came to call it, made the first rule of Micheal-child rearing very clear,
Always keep doors and windows locked.
She was beginning to realize that maybe Micheal’s isolation had less to do with the danger of Micheal going into the outside world, and more to do with the danger of the outside world coming to Micheal.
In a world where wars started over kidnapping pets and your neighbors walked through your house as if it were a museum, who could blame them for taking such precautions?
“Hey! Puffy? Are you home? Puffy?”
He was going to have to be dealt with eventually… but better to get it over with now.
“One second!” Puffy took a breath and went to the door.
Seeing her unamused face, Fundy said, “Hey! What’s up? I heard you’re… babysitting,” nonchalantly attempting to nudge his way into the house.
“Yeah, I am. What do you want, Fundy.”
“What! I just want to see little Micheal, it’s been a long time! He’s probably all grown up now! Puffy—“
“I promised Tubbo and Ranboo I would take care of him, and you’re on their no-visit list. (She wasn’t lying, actually.) So, please get away from my house.”
“Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll… get away from your house,” He made a show of backing off, before knocking against the door one last time, shouting, “Hey, Micheal! How are you, buddy!”
Puffy slammed the door and locked it back. “Sorry about that, Micheal, I—“
Beads were spilled out on the wooden floor,
and Micheal was gone.