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Ranboo doesn't understand why they're laughing.
He can't understand why they seem so... joyful - so delighted by the news that they've just received.
They shouldn't be happy, should they?
…
They should be sad, shouldn't they?
"Tommy is dead." Ranboo tried again, forked tongue feeling considerably heavy in his dry, desert-like mouth and inevitably preventing proper wordplay. His throat was rough and scratchy too, and his eyes burned with confused, festering droplets of salty water.
His brain was muddled, his hands were shaking, and his mismatched face was morphed into a look of complete distraught.
"Dream beat him to death. He died. He's dead, he's-"
"We heard you, Ranboo," Techno snorted around another belt of deep laughter, hand slapping down against the shimmering end-table as if to show off how amused he really was. (Ranboo didn't feel too impressed by it.) "You don't need to go and repeat yourself; XD knows that we've heard enough about Tommy to last us a lifetime."
"Oh yeah, can't get away from the kid." Phil agreed easily with a chuckle.
The blonde appeared a little more subdued than his counterpart, fingers twitching slightly, and Ranboo was certain he'd seen hurt flashing through Phil's sea-blue gaze, but again, perhaps not.
Perhaps the playful smile and the carefree expression that Phil was wearing, perhaps his relaxed demeanor and thoughtlessly shrugging shoulders, was more than enough to solidify the fact that – even though he might not be so openly happy – he certainly wasn't sad about the circumstances.
Ranboo's heart squeezed.
"Tommy is... he's- he's just gone," The hybrid's gaze flickered to the other person in the room, his eyes searching and desperate, "Niki...?"
There was a pause, a breath, a sigh.
Niki glanced up towards Ranboo, a slight tilt of her lips, and she tucked a piece of bright pink hair behind her ear. "Surely you know that it's not true, Ranboo. You can't seriously believe that Tommy died, right?"
What?
What?
"Niki-"
"And we all know that Tommy can't die anyways. He's got, he's got 'plot armour,' hasn't he? Nobody could kill him. Not even a nuke could take that child out."
There was something in her tone of a typically soft voice, something surprisingly dark and festering that screamed of hidden agendas and a rhythm of mistrust. She knew something, something that had happened – something that she wasn't telling them.
What had she done?
Ranboo, despite his much-preferred calm nature, wanted to grip onto the young adult and shake her till she set free the skeletons in her closet. He wanted to scream and howl and refuse to let go until he received some sort of emotion that wasn't just ignorant dismissal.
He'd take anything that made him feel better about his own misery and regret.
Why didn't they care?
Why didn't any of them care?
"But-" Ranboo's voice was thick and layered, filled with blistering emotions, "But I thought he was... he was your family?" His gaze flicked to Phil, "Your son?" It shifted to Techno, "Your brother?"
Another belt of roaring laughter and amused chuckling rumbled from the two men.
"Wilbur was my only blood son."
"Tommy was the hero in my ancient scriptures, nothing more, nothing less."
Oh. Of course.
Wilbur's loyal pet.
Technoblade's little Theseus.
Both titles and insinuations had Ranboo's stomach-churning rather uncomfortably. He sort of wanted to curl up into a tiny ball, to curl under the covers of his makeshift bed and squeeze his eyes shut until the only thing he could see was empty darkness.
Endless, bounding voids would be far better than the reality he was currently stuck in.
"He was just a child-"
"A reckless one at that," Technoblade dismissed with a nonchalant wave. "Always getting himself into trouble, picking meaningless, government-aided fights and sticking his nose where he shouldn't. I'm honestly surprised that somebody didn't take him out earlier."
A laugh.
"Oh gosh, I wish that somebody had. It would've saved me a lot of trouble." Niki sighed.
Ranboo wanted to scream. He-
"But he wasn't all that bad, was he?"
The hybrid's eyes widened, and he glanced at the speaking blonde. Perhaps this was it, perhaps Phil was going to say something at least somewhat redeemable, perhaps-
"When he was away in exile, he was pretty good. A lot quieter and more subdued – probably my favourite version of him, and I gotta say, the server was a whole lot calmer."
A twisted, dark heart shattered into thousands of despondent pieces.
"Phil! Scared me for a second there. XD knows that I thought you were going to praise the damn gremlin for a second." Techno snorted good-naturedly, a mixture of surprise and delight laced along the tips of his linked words.
Ranboo just blanched.
He'd really thought... really hoped that the conversation might shift towards something else, that the three conversing adults would have a sudden change of heart and their eyes would open to just how insane it was that Tommy had died.
Because Tommy really had died.
He was gone.
Forever.
Tommy had died, and Ranboo seemed like the only one to care.
Tubbo was dismissive, playing it off as a fluke or a glitch in the system. Jack Manifold didn't really mind, not if he got to keep the hotel he'd recently claimed. Foolish hadn't even known Tommy well enough to push forth an opinion on the situation.
And the people that were originally supposed to be Tommy's 'found family' could care less altogether – unbothered if he was dead or alive or, hell, completely non-existent.
Ranboo didn't get it.
Not in the slightest.
Because surely, surely Tommy hadn't been that bad, had he? He hadn't been entirely terrible or evil – and certainly not deserving of a death so cruel and violent, a death so unfair and savage.
He hadn't been that bad; Ranboo knew that for sure.
But perhaps the others just couldn't see that? Perhaps they hadn't seen the real Tommy, the one that he was when he dropped his hard, put-on exterior of 'annoying gremlin child with pyromaniac tendencies and horrendous morals.'
The Tommy underneath, who enjoyed flower-picking and quiet, evening walks.
"Ranboo! My friend!"
There was a tired, thin smile pulling at Ranboo's lips as he paused on the prime path, steps faltering and his body turning slightly so he could face the teen behind him.
"Yeah, Tommy?"
Truthfully, Ranboo had been expecting some sort of comment, some sort of insult or mean term – it wouldn't be something new, and it certainly wouldn't be something surprising.
"Here! Got you a flower."
Hold on. That wasn't meant to be... "What?"
"I know you like 'em, big man, and I just thought I'd pick you up one while I was passing by." Tommy's brows scrunched, "Unless you don't want one?"
That... that wasn't what Ranboo hadn't been expecting whatsoever, but he certainly wasn't complaining.
"No! No, I'd love one, thank you," He admitted, letting his posture relax as he gently took the held-out Allium from Tommy's fingertips.
The Tommy underneath, who had a heartwarming affinity for all things cobblestone.
"Hold on, Tommy- I'll be with you in a second, okay? Just gotta dump all of this junk."
The two teens had been heading over to Tommy's recently opened hotel together, wanting to talk business and about renting rooms (well – more so Ranboo wanted Tommy to stop looking so alone all of the time and decided to indulge in some classic hotel rivalry.)
Tommy's brows raised, but he shrugged." Sure, mate. Do what you want."
Ranboo nodded, immediately beginning to search through his inventory and deposit spare stacks of cobble into an open chest nearby. He didn't really need it, after all, so there was no point in holding onto it-
"Hey!"
Ranboo's heart rate spiked, and his mouth went surprisingly dry. "Uh-"
Tommy snatched up the cobble. “You’re calling this junk? This beautiful cobblestone' junk!?' I'll have you know that this is the best block available. Even better than diamonds and netherite combined! You-!"
Oh.
Ranboo smiled. "Well... I mean... you can have it if you want?"
There was quiet for a moment, Tommy's cheeks flaming an embarrassed pink, and his hands twitched. He seemed hesitant and awkward but soon nodded. (Ranboo found it pretty endearing, not that he'd say it out loud.)
The Tommy underneath, who had sobbed into Ranboo's chest after a particularly rough flashback.
Harsh, tumbling hiccups erupted from Tommy's trembling lips, his fingers twitching and curled desperately into the dark material of Ranboo's suit. He was sobbing and whimpering, distraught and in pain.
Tear tracks soaked his sunken cheeks, dripping at a constant, unrelenting pace and wetting the torn collar of his classic shirt.
Ranboo just let out a soft coo, his hands drifting up to run gentle fingertips through blonde locks. He was gently massaging at Tommy's scalp, scratching and rubbing in soothing manners.
There wasn't much he could do – wasn't much he could say in a situation like that, especially when Tommy point-blank refused to open up completely. But Ranboo could still offer a physical reprieve. He could hold the younger teen, hug him and gently rock him until Tommy's cries had somewhat died down.
He could do that much, at least.
"I've got you, Tommy. I've got you. I'm here."
Technoblade, Philza, Niki – they'd never seen that side of the teen; that much was clear as they laughed and joked about the youngest's brutal passing. They were so casual, so calm, and collected about a sixteen-year-old child being beat to death by his manipulator and abuser.
Ranboo desperately wanted to scream and scream until they faced the daunting reality.
Not that they ever would.
Truthfully? Ranboo had high doubts about them ever-changing, about them ever thinking even somewhat differently about Tommy – about the teen who had left the world far too soon for everything that he's gone through.
After everything he'd sacrificed and everything he'd done, Tommy was still treated like a villain, and it wasn't fair.
He could offer himself up one thousand times over, and yet it still would never be enough. Tommy would always be the faulty best friend; he'd be the traumatised teen who only knew how to lash out, he'd be the younger brother of a war criminal and a danger to society in himself.
He'd never be Tommy.
A heavy sigh pulled from Ranboo's lips, the hybrid glancing up to survey the meeting room. They were still talking fondly amongst each other, murmuring about deaths and false claims but still keeping up a cheery tone.
Ranboo let a tiny smile tug across his scarred face.
They'd never change, and Ranboo still had sturdy appearances he had to keep up, no matter how much he might not want to.
This was for Tubbo and Michael – for his family.
Ranboo couldn't spare a dead man's feelings any longer.
"Yeah," He muttered, gaze flicking up to meet Technoblade's. "It's good that he's dead, isn't it?"