Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur ran through the rain, the puddles of water soaking into his sneakers and socks as he clutched the school bag full of books and papers close to his chest. He ran under as many overhangings from the shops as possible, but inevitably, he was soaked. He craned his neck over the bag, hoping the rain jacket over his shoulders would block out any water and keep his belongings safe and dry, not wanting to have to explain to the librarian why some of her books were ruined. Wilbur looked up towards the sky, the sounds of a child crying from not too far away filled his ears. When the sound of a man yelling followed as he passed by an alleyway, he couldn’t help but turn around and peek in to see what the commotion was.

His eyes caught sight of two children, likely no older than three years old. The taller of the two was covering his head with his arms, as the older man, one Wilbur couldn’t see in the shadows but could see a bulky outline of something around his head, shouted insults and obscenities at him. The other child, one with large animal ears and horns protruding from his head, was pulling on the adult’s shirt, loudly sobbing and begging for him to calm down.

The one on the floor, the one with lanky arms and legs, briefly looked up, to the side, and back down again before looking back to the side, his mismatched eyes glowing in the night sky, nearly mesmerizing Wilbur as they made eye contact.

In a split-second, the boy was up from his corner and sprinting to Wilbur, crouching behind him, one eye peeking out to watch as the older man’s head whipped over to stare at the boy with wide eyes, his brows immediately furrowing further in anger, but this time, it was towards Wilbur.

“I don’t know you,” the man said to him.

Wilbur ignored his statement and shook his head, pushing the child further behind his back. “Hand the other one over or I’m calling the cops.”

The adult laughed, his sly grin growing further, but within his distraction, the smallest found an opening to escape, running into Wilbur’s chest and clinging to him tightly.

“I see,” the man paused to look over the scene before him, “Oh well.”

“‘Oh well?’” Wilbur said in disgust, looking down at the innocent children under him, both shaking. “You hurt your children like that and your response to them cowering to me is ‘oh well?’” His voice rose in anger, the audacity of the man before him clouding his head with anger. He was only fifteen, why did he know more about how to treat a child than this adult?

The older man scoffed, “Only one of them is my kid, and I could easily force you to hand them back over. But, whatever, ha-”

He was cut off by the smallest of the group, the boy having let go of Wilbur to sternly face his father, “Stop it, Daddy!” The little one stomped his foot to the ground and stared up to his father. Wilbur looked to the child’s face and saw how his eyes were a deep black with no white or iris to speak of.

A low laugh left the man’s mouth, this tone thick with malice and insult, “Think you can use your powers on me, Tubbo? You know you can’t manipulate me, baby boy.”

The boy, Tubbo, Wilbur presumed, gasped in shock and grabbed back on to Wilbur’s leg, his eyes returning to normal. “Go, take ‘em. Not like a child can take care of them.” With that, the man turned heel and left out the other end of the alley, leaving Wilbur bewildered and utterly soaked, as were the boys clinging to him.

“Okay, hmm.” Wilbur paused in thought, “Do you mind if I take you home? I don’t know if Dad will keep you but this isn’t, uh, unusual for our family.”

The taller boy said nothing, but Tubbo did, “Is your daddy nice?” to which Wilbur gave an affirmative hum. This made Tubbo beam up at him, his eyes wet with tears still but a clear, excited smile on his face. With permission, Wilbur gently picked him up offering his hand to the black and white skinned boy beside him, who took it gratefully.

By now, the storm had cleared up to just a small drizzle, allowing for them to take a slower pace and settle into an excited but quiet conversation, Tubbo introducing him and the other boy, Ranboo.

“So are you brothers?” Wilbur asked.

“No! Do we look like brothers, silly?” Tubbo teased with a giggled, his fluffy, gray goat ears wiggling at the side of his head, his small hand covering his mouth as his eyes squeezed shut with joy.

“Well, I have two brothers, and I look nothing like them. You can be brothers and not be from the same mommy or daddy.”

Tubbo hummed gently before shaking his head, “No, me and Boo aren’t brothers, he’s just my friend!” Wilbur let out a little chuckle before nodding, watching as the little tail Tubbo sported, lifted out from under his yellow t-shirt.

Wilbur looked down at the other boy at his side, his unusual but certainly not strange appearance. His body was half black and half white, the distinction between the sides clear but uneven, like a child had tried to draw a straight line with distorting goggles on. Each side had freckles and the tips of his fingers were coated unevenly with the opposite’s color. His eyes were a stark red and green with no white and diamond-shaped black pupils. Ranboo was tall, his fingers and teeth were sharp with rounded horns atop his black and white striped hair, adding a contrast from his seemingly demure personality.

“How old are you, kiddo?” Wilbur asked, looking down at Ranboo, whose height made it so his head reached Wilbur’s waist. Ranboo tensed and wrapped his long, slender tail with a black and white tuft at the end around his own left leg, his long, pointy ears pointing downwards.

“We think he is five, like me, but he could be six.” Tubbo’s tone was lighter than before, milder and concerned.

“Oh! Okay. You’ll have to tell me more later.” He beamed between the two before announcing that they were almost there. The group had turned onto a street of smaller, one story houses that had a little bit of the front yard but a little more in the back. It looked nice, especially for couples wanting to settle down or for small families. Though, Wilbur knew his family wasn’t considered small. A single-floor house with two adults, a teenager, and a preteen could hardly be considered spacious, but Wilbur had lived there all his life and truly was used to the way they lived. His older brother was the most recent addition to the house, having moved in four years ago. They all knew how to work around each other and Wilbur could only hope that they were able to house the new children.

Wilbur walked into a driveway, one lined with small lanterns shoved into the ground and a red SUV sitting on the pavement, feeling the gentle sway of Ranboo’s tail brush against the back of his calves with subtle excitement. That, or anxiety, but Wilbur couldn’t figure out which.

Chapter Text

Wilbur twisted the handle of the front door, it easily gave in and revealed the comfortable living room and entryway to a kitchen. A couch was set to the right, it clearly used but loved nonetheless. Across from it was a television set into the wall playing the news. The living room was certainly not clean, with toys, clothes, and the occasional plate or cup lying around, but the pictures on the walls added to the atmosphere of somewhere people called home. Tubbo looked around, and wandered over to one of the picture frames and observed the family inside of it. One boy to the very right looked like a younger Wilbur with bright pink tips in his hair, far different from the faded red tips he had now. At Wilbur’s feet was a blond boy with fluffy white wings, looking to be about Tubbo’s age. Two other figures stood in the back, one much older than the rest and a curious looking teenager with bright pink hair that fell straight to his shoulders.

“Dad? Can you come here?” Wilbur called, taking off his slopping wet shoes and putting them on the mat in front of the door, hanging his raincoat on the tree-shaped coat hanger beside the door.

Philza entered the living room from the left, the wall that hid the kitchen blocking his view of the front door. Rubbing his hands on a navy colored dish towel, he spoke, “You’re home awfully late. Wher- Oh.” He paused when he caught sight of the two children, one in Wilbur’s arms and one clinging to his thigh.

“Wil, you can’t just- what?” Phil sounded exasperated, wanting an explanation. Wilbur smiled sheepishly and went into the kitchen, motioning for both the kids to sit at the small, wooden kitchen table as he dug into the fridge.

“I found them while his,” He pointed to Tubbo, “dad was yelling at the two. He was being violent and basically just told me to take them. I couldn’t leave them in the rain and I figured you’d at least know someone who would take them in.” He pulled out a water bottle and split it between two plastic cups, handing them to the kids.

“I mean, I probably do but... what? Not that I adopted Techno legally but are you sure this guy isn’t going to want his kid? What about the other one?” Phil looked to Wilbur for an explanation, wringing his hands to rid himself of the building anxiety.

“It was clear he wasn’t going to take them back. The other kid, from what Tubbo told me, lived with him since they were babies. I don’t think he has parents.” Wilbur looked over to Ranboo for confirmation, to which the boy just shrugged and shook his head shyly.

Phil sighed heavily, looking between the two. “I’ll set something up for the night. But I have to talk to you more about this.” He crouched down between the two, adopting a more friendly and softer voice, “Are you hungry? Cold?” Tubbo nodded at both.

“And sleepy,” Tubbo finished, proven by a small yawn that left his mouth after.

Philza smiled at the adorable boy before him, quietly standing. “I will make you two somewhere to sleep for tonight, and we can decide what to do in the morning. Sound good?”

Both boys confirmed that the suggestion sounded okay, after which Ranboo hopped off his seat at the table and went over to Tubbo to, somewhat awkwardly, hug him from behind in comfort. Phil left the room, leaving the two to talk to each other in hushed whispers.

Wilbur set out two plates, both with a sandwich and a bowl of applesauce each. Tubbo lit up, happily digging into the food, his feet swinging back and forth with a rapid pace off the edge of the chair. Ranboo, however, was more timid; sniffing the food and waiting for a while until after Tubbo started to allow himself to eat a bite. Though, his pointy ears pointed upwards as he took a bite of the turkey and cheese sandwich, his tail staying firmly against Tubbo's waist, but the fluffy black-and-white tip vibrating slightly.

After a couple of minutes, Phil peeked his head in the kitchen doorway, facing his attention the two five-year-olds. “Are you done eating? C’mere?”

Tubbo hopped down, taking Ranboo’s hand as he walked into the living room, following Phil’s lead. There was a love seat covered in several blankets and leather, the already cozy-looking fabric of the navy couch just exemplified by the welcoming temporary bed for the boys.

Tubbo springs on the couch, being consumed by the white comforter that enveloped his tiny body whole. Ranboo pressed down on the edge of the blanket, watching as Tubbo’s face came back into view with a cheery smile. Ranboo climbed in, opting for the baby blue fluffy blanket to wrap around himself. He buried his face in it, just his eyes peeking out from over the top. Phil and Wilbur smiled at them, Phil guiding Tubbo so he laid his head on one of the pillows. He tucked the comforter in under the toddler so he was comfy, doing the same for Ranboo. Once making sure the kids were okay, Phil and Wilbur left, flipping off the light switch as they went, leaving the boys in a lightly lit room, the beams from the moon filtering in from the window.

Ranboo sat up after a few minutes of silence, turning to face Tubbo. “Bee?”

Tubbo moved himself into a sitting position, looking to the taller, “Hm?” he hummed. The other looked to the side, staring at the gray carpet.

“I’m scared…”

Tubbo smiled gently, a sweet look in his eyes. “That’s okay,” He said in a whisper, crawling over, so he could hug Ranboo tightly, letting him lay down so they could cuddle together.

The night was quiet, the children finally able to have a night of restful sleep and each other’s company.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Tubbo was awoken to the sound of sizzling in the kitchen, the smell of some sort of meat filling his nose. Tubbo wiggled out from his blanket prison and waddled into the kitchen, the back of his fists trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. He watched quietly as Philza, dressed in a gray robe and slippers, made some breakfast on the stove, pouring some tan pancake batter into a pan and waiting for the bubbles to form and pop. Tubbo carefully tugged on the end of the robe, Phil spun around to be greeted with two large, yellow-green eyes staring up at him with pure, innocent excitement. Phil smiled, the wagging tail behind the boy, catching his eye and making him chuckle at the sweetness of the scene.

“Hungry, little guy?” He asked, getting a thrilled nod and harder tugs on his robe in response. Phil laughed and picked Tubbo up by the waist, setting the little guy on the counter. “Don’t touch the pan or plates, they might be hot, okay?”

Tubbo nodded with enthusiasm, making grabby hands towards the slice of ham Phil was about to place on the bread that sizzled away in the pan. Phil chuckled, amusement clear in his eyes as he tore off a piece and handed it to the hungry child who eagerly chomped it down.

As Phil continued to make a breakfast sandwich, one that smelled absolutely delicious to Tubbo, footsteps feel from the upstairs in fast succession. Tubbo jumped, the sound making his ears and tail stick straight up as he looked to the older, blond man for answers.

“Tommy! Quieter, please,” Phil called, but by the time he was finished, a head was already peeking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean ‘quiet,’ Dad? You never care that I’m loud!” The new boy, around ten-years-old, if Tubbo had to guess.

“Tommy, your brothers are sleeping and we have two visitors.” Phil flipped over the sandwich, not looking at Tommy.

“Visitors? What do y-” Tommy cut himself off as he noticed the small child sitting on the counter, shoving the last bit of ham into his mouth. Tommy gasped and ran over to Tubbo, whose eyes went wide at the speedy child who’s white wings had opened up to half their wingspan during Tommy’s excitement. “You’re so cute!” The winged boy cried, lifting up one of Tubbo’s hands uncomfortably to inspect the child.

Phil sighed as he watched the scene, carefully swatting away the hand that was holding Tubbo’s wrist. “Be gentle, Toms. You’re too loud, and he’s so small, you can’t just yank him ‘round like that.”

Tommy groaned, “fine, fine, but do we get to keep him?”

Philza rolled his eyes at the seemingly unusual question. “I don’t know yet, I’m talking to Mr. Karl right now about what to do.”

“What’s Karl got to do about this?”

“You’ll see when the other one wakes up. I don’t think we have the space nor do I have the ability to care for a child like Ranboo.”

Tommy seemed to contemplate what Phil had said before getting distracted and jumping onto his toes to peer at the stove. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I’m just making everyone’s favorites. It’s going to be a stressful day. Can you go wake up your brothers for me?” Phil set the sandwich on a plate before turning to the fridge once more.

“Wil is already up. He was showering when I headed down. I’ll go get Techno, though!” With that, Tommy burst from the kitchen and back up the stairs, leaving Phil to let out an amused chuckle.

“That was Tommy and you’ve already met Wilbur. Technoblade is my oldest. He can be scary, but he’ll warm up to you guys, I promise.”

Tubbo giggled as Phil ruffled his hair, “Can I call him Techie?”

Philza’s eyes squinted with amusement, “You can ask him, Tubs. Though, I bet you’d call him that regardless.”

Tubbo let out an affirmative ‘mhm!’ before getting distracted and making grabby hands at another slice of ham.

“No, no, Tubbo, let’s get you a real meal before you fill up on ham. What do you and Ranboo like to have for breakfast?” Phil poured a whisked up egg into a pan, letting it sizzle as he cleaned off a potato in the sink.

“I never eat with Boo so you’d have to ask him, but one time I heard him ask for cereal! I like eggies, though! Daddy always made them with sausages when he was feeling nice.” Tubbo swung his feet off the edge of the counter in pure excitement, his tone rising to a near squeak with a small giggle to finish off his statement.

Phil furrowed his brows, confused as to why Tubbo seemed so casual about what his father was like. Based on what he and Wilbur had discussed, Tubbo understood his father was unkind, but the childish naivety that Tubbo held must have spared his brain from realizing exactly what his trauma meant. Phil shuttered at the thought of Tubbo’s realization when the child was older but pushed it to the back of his mind, trying to focus on the present and getting the children the help they needed.

Flipping the eggs onto a plate, Phil added a chopped and seasoned potato to the pan along with a few sausage patties, the smell seeming to lure in a face Tubbo had never seen before except in the picture he had seen a few days prior.

The teen was tall, his head nearly touching the top of the doorway even with it already being larger than normal. His skin was tinted slightly pinker than a normal person’s and his hair was a vibrant pink, his roots matching the rest of his head, meaning it was natural. It reached down to his waist in a wavy pattern. Large rings and chains adorned his body, most of them gold-plated and a few had little jewels attached. Though, even more adorned than his fingers were his ears with several piercings, probably six or seven in each elongated, pointed ear.

“Who’s that?” The newcomer said pointedly, his speech slightly slurred from the dulled down tusks protruding from his mouth.

Before Phil could respond, Tommy burst in, “Tubby! He’s staying with us and his brother is in the living room. Right, Dadza?”

Phil smirked at the nickname, one that Tommy had used once when he was six and it just stuck, each child using it on occasion. “His name is Tubbo and Tubbo said they’re not brothers.”

Tommy huffed, not liking being told he was wrong. He opened his mouth to state such but was interrupted by a quiet voice coming from behind him and Techno.

“‘M hungry. Where’s Bee?”

Tubbo gasped in excitement at the sight of Ranboo, near ready to jump off the counter himself, had Phil not set him on the floor fast enough. He hugged the taller boy with a vice-like grip, the thirty minutes that they had spent apart being too much. “I’m right here! The, uh, old man is making us food!”

Tommy elbowed Phil at the nickname to which Phil let out a huff and shoved the plate of eggs into his hand so he would leave the already crowded kitchen.

Ranboo looked up to Phil with a soft, sweet smile, his tail lifting higher as he finally woke up enough to smell the kitchen.

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

The day as a whole flew by like none the Soot household had felt before. Between meeting the new children, trying to decide what to do, and the constant need to watch and protect the little ones from anything that could remotely scare them, the rest of the family was exhausted. Tommy and Phil were the only ones who had yet to take a nap or rest their heads for any period of time; Tommy because of his seemingly abundant energy and Phil because of the constant phone calls and planning of what to do.

Wilbur trudged down the steps, the effect of sleep still in his veins as he finally woke up from his hour-long nap. Reading the clock that hung over the TV, he saw the time was around 4 o’ clock, just in time to help out for dinner. Wilbur stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes laying on a sight he could only describe as precious.

Philza had Tubbo in one arm, the toddler resting comfortably on his hip as Tubbo’s head laid on his shoulder, eyes shut and if Wilbur strained to listen, he could hear little baby snores, too. Ranboo, however, was curled up under the electric stove where the bottom was open to hold pots and pans. He leaned against the painted wood side that connected to the lower cabinets, his pointy ears squished against it at a funny angle. His mouth was slightly opened as he slept, the day of questions, explaining, and making sure he was healthy clearly wearing him out.

Techno sat at the small dining table that only sat three people so, more often than not, it was used as a temporary desk for any of the members still in school. Wilbur pulled out a chair beside Techno’s, making sure to lift it so the wooden legs didn’t scratch against the floor and wake the sleeping children. Wilbur glanced at the book Techno was reading and upon seeing it was just a textbook, became uninterested and turned to his father.

“Dad? Any updates?” Wilbur whispered.

Phil nodded happily, “Mhm, in fact, one of my friends just down the street said he was glad to take one in.”

Wilbur smiled, knowing full well which friend Philza was talking about, “Oh, Mr. Karl, right? He and Tubbo will get along, that’s for sure.”

Phil shook his head, glancing down at Ranboo, “I don’t think we can handle Ranboo’s mental state right now. As much as I hate separating them, I talked to Tubbo about it, and he relented and agreed as long as they could see each other a lot. I feel like Tubbo will be able to handle the unpredictability of our family more too, ya know?”

Wilbur sighed and nodded his head up and down as he looked at the mismatched child and sighed, pity filling his stomach as he worried about what another change might do to the boy. Lost in thought and mind muddled with emotion, it took Wilbur a second to notice the small flower with a rosy color that had sprouted in the young boy’s hair, twisting up and around one horn. Before he could stop his powers, another one sprouted, this one a baby blue with many buds that rested upon the un-squashed ear.

“Columbines and verbenas…” Wilbur whispered, just barely audible.

“What?” Techno hummed, only half interested in what Wilbur had muttered.

“Nothing, nothing, I just lost control for a second and,” he pointed to the sleeping boy under the counter. Techno’s straight-lined mouth gently tilted up into a soft smile. The pink-skinned one gave Ranboo a strange look that Wilbur couldn’t quite place. One between contemplation and understanding.

“Columbines and verbenas? So sympathy and healing?” Techno said, his question more rhetorical than genuine.

“I guess. I wasn’t thinking when I made them but it does make sense, doesn’t it?”

Phil finally turned around to face the two who were talking, “Mr. Karl is coming to pick up Ranboo after dinner. We think it’s best if he leaves sooner rather than later.”

The two seemed to contemplate this information for a bit before Techno stood up and went towards the stove where chicken was sizzling in the pan. He grabbed the spatula and flipped over the done pieces, earning an earnest thanks from his father. As the meat began to sizzle and pop, it seemed to wake the boys from their slumber, both stirring nearly at the same time. Ranboo crawled out from his hidey-hole to silently observe the food, his eyes crinkling with delight as he smelled the spices of a delicious, warm meal. Tubbo, too, was awake but opted to just watch the meal be made, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

However, the tiredness soon passed as rice and chicken were put on a plate, and he was set down, so he could take it, running off to the dining room table to sit next to Wilbur while he ate. Another plate was made and Phil held it down towards Ranboo’s height, so he could take it. Ranboo looked to the plate and the Phil, his eyes confused and uncertain. He didn’t reach out to take the plate, just quietly holding his own hands behind his back.

“This is for you, kiddo,” Phil explained softly. “You can take it.”

Ranboo seemed almost confused as his trembling hands took the dish, his nails clinking against the ceramic until he could get a solid grip on it. Phil heard what he could only assume was a “thank you” but it was so demure, it was hard to be sure.

Once everyone had gotten their plates, it wasn’t a quiet meal by most standards, but for the Soot family, it was far more hushed than normal. Minus Tommy’s unawareness, which caused him to shout a few times before getting reprimanded by Phil, so the loud boy didn’t scare the children after Phil saw Ranboo jump at the yelling.

According to Tommy, dinner didn’t end soon enough as he wanted to run around and play with Tubbo, but to Wilbur, Technoblade, and Philza, it was far too short. The ringing of the doorbell was too loud and the goodbyes to Ranboo weren’t genuine enough. They had grown to love the boy and even though Karl lived just a few houses down, the loud, fat tears Tubbo shed that night from his new bed in Tommy’s room was just too heartbreaking.

The tears would dry, the flowers in Ranboo’s hair would wilt, the boys would see each other, it would all come together in a circle, but at that moment, it was just an overwhelming blur of change.

Chapter Text

Ranboo curled up in the back of the car, having refused to sit up front with the strange man that had taken him away from Tubbo. While the man who had taken him in had explained that the new person was good and was going to take care of him, Ranboo couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was wrong, he realized; he didn’t have his best friend. His comforter, and it scared him. Half the time when he was taken in somewhere, the caretaker beat him half to death. He was terrified history would repeat itself.

Relax, it’ll be okay.

A voice in his head seemed to say. Ranboo jumped up at the sound, subtly looking around to see the source of the feminine voice. He realized it did not sound at all like the man driving the car, nor did it sound like anyone he could remember.

Deep breaths. In and out. Just like Bee said.

The voice continued to ring in his head, and Ranboo listened to her instructions, taking deep breaths to clear his mind.

You’re doing great. Close your eyes. Remember Tubbo told you this story? I’ll tell you again, so you rest.

Ranboo, once again, listened and let his eyes flutter shut as his mind made words he, himself, was not thinking.

There was a boy, in fact, there were two. When one fell, the other lifted them up. When one was hurt, the other patched them up.

Ranboo listened to the tale, one he had no memory of. Though he had no recollection of ever being told the tale, it filled him with the warm feeling of familiarity, one that wrapped itself around his body, seeping through his skin and into his heart, calming its rapid thumping.

The boys always knew there was a villain looming over them, one who threatened to attack at any moment, but they didn’t worry, they always knew that if they had each other, it would be okay. The boys played and laughed and enjoyed their time together, nothing could break their bond.

But, of course, all good things come to an end.

Ranboo jumped at the addition of a new voice, quickly noticing how Karl’s eyes glanced back at him with worry. The new voice was lower, and Ranboo had trouble telling if it was a male or female. The tone was harsh, waking him from his peaceful moment with the force of all the speed of a train. The calmness did not return, the voices arguing back and forth without a care to how the mean demeanors from both voices seemed to affect Ranboo.

Before Ranboo could get them under control, or at least try to, Karl parked the car in the driveway and opened the side door, his arms open for a gentle invitation for the mismatched boy.

“Want me to carry you? Or you can walk, either’s fine!” The man said, his fluffy hair and brightly colored clothes adding to the comforting air around him. Despite this, Ranboo trusted his instincts and shook his head, worry churning in his stomach as he climbed out of the car on his own two feet.

Karl smiled sweetly and led him inside, staying near the younger boy in order to ensure he was alright, the taller man noticing that it almost looked as if Ranboo would curl over and heave out his dinner at any second.

Having safely made it inside without incident, Karl grinned brightly down, “Have a look around, I know it isn’t much, but if you want to stay with me, that’s okay. Or I can show you your room. Either works for me.”

Look around, make sure there are no stinky bottles.

No! Go to your room so you can hide.

We have to make sure he’s safe!

Ranboo cringed as the voices once more made themselves known to his conscious mind, unsure of which of the two to listen to. He wrung his hands as he weighed his options, the temptation to burst into tears right at the forefront of his mind.

And so, he did. His mind snapped as the emotions from all he could remember flooding to the front as he fell to his knees and sobbed. He knew he would get a beating for crying, he knew this would only end in trouble, but with the female voice coaxing him to “cry it out,” he knew there was no going back.

Ranboo could barely make out the sounds of the world around him as he heaved and sobbed, unable to make out the blob of what he assumed to be Karl sitting beside him, not touching him, just a presence to be there.

He wept for what felt like hours, his bones shaking with the effort to keep his body upright, and his muscles straining from trying to keep breathing, even after he was hyperventilating. When his racing heart seemed to settle and his hands began to shake less and less, Ranboo finally collapsed onto a heap on his knees, his eyes finally focusing on the kind but worried gaze of the man who had brought him here. Karl’s eyes were nothing like the ones his father had held, no menace and anger; but of warm acceptance and the want to help the child. Ranboo fell into the warmth, feeling the soft cloth of a hoodie wrapped around his trembling body. That was all he ever wanted, an adult to help him calm down, or even an adult to not hurt him when he cried. The two voices fought each other, one stating that the man was safe, and the other begging Ranboo to run and hide away from the man, saying all men were the same and Karl was going to do the same to him. Ranboo, too exhausted to care, let the man comfort him, his eyes growing heavy as his body gave out, his fear still strung in his heart, but his brain’s need for a break from the anxiety won out, allowing him to finally rest his head.

Chapter Text

Tubbo waddled into the bedroom, a small blanket that smelled vaguely like Phil, tied hanging around his shoulder as his fists clenched the end close together in front of his chest. A sniffle left his nose as he used his fist to wipe at his eyes, his noise making the larger figure in the bed beside him wake up slightly.

“‘Il?” The young boy whispers, his tiredness causing his lips to not form the ‘ph’ sound that began the name.

A voice groaned from the bed, his throat thick with sleep and tiredness and he turned so his back was no longer to the younger boy. Sleep-crusted eyes opened to blink at Tubbo, a small smile gracing the father’s face.

“Yes, kiddo?” He asked.

Tubbo looked to the side, suddenly interested in the soft carpet beneath his socked feet. A shaky breath left the boy, tears now freely streaming down his face as he opened his mouth to try and form words.

Phil sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he spoke, “Tubbo? Honey, can you hear me?” His tone was sweet and calm, the words seeming to bring the tired child back down to the present. Tubbo still cried, his sniffle clear but his words choked as he tried to explain what was wrong.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want to come up here?” Phil patted the side of the bed beside him where there was more than enough space for the tiny, barely three-foot child. Tubbo seemed surprised but the expression was brief as he climbed on the bed with the help of the wooden bedframe which allowed him to put his foot on and clamber onto the bed.

Phil moved back to avoid touching Tubbo, afraid it might upset the child more but was proven wrong as Tubbo rolled over and into Phil’s side as Tubbo wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, his crying now silent and the tears only dripping every few seconds.

“N-nightmare,” his little voice managed to squeak out once his crying had slowed enough for his breathing to clear up and his throat to feel less constricted.

Phil sighed in sympathy, remembering when Tommy had gone through the same thing. Wilbur never got bad nightmares, only light ones that would leave him curled up at his father’s side but without crying. Phil layed a comforting arm across Tubbo’s back, summoning his wings slowly so as to not spook the younger one. He kept one tucked into his side but spread the other across the smaller’s body, the primary feathers separating and splaying across Tubbo’s back.

Tubbo seemed surprised by the sudden feathers, confusion apparent across his face as he turned his head to face Phil, observing the silvery black wings that seemed to glitter in the moonlight. He reached up to feel one of the smaller feathers, his touch tentative and soft.

“Wings?” He asked quietly.

“Mhm. I can summon them, unlike Tommy,” Phil explained. “Are they okay like this?”

Tubbo nodded and smiled a little, wiping the now-dry tears from his cheeks with a balled-up first.

“Do you want to talk about the nightmare, kiddo?” Phil asked, voice dripping with sweetness and caring, making Tubbo feel much more at ease with all the comforting presences around him.

Tubbo hummed for a moment before he nodded, “Mhm. D-daddy was there. And so was Ranboo…” there was a pause and Phil was about to speak before Tubbo continued, “and I think it-it was a memory. Daddy had a lot of the bad stuff and was g-gonna hit Ranboo so I-”

Tubbo broke down into tears once more, his once quiet sobs now enough to wake even a deep sleeper if they were nearby. Phil, wanting to quiet the child before he woke up anyone else in the house, gently patted Tubbo’s hair avoiding the small, dulled down horn protruding from his head, just the tips able to make it out from his mass of fluffy hair.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m he-”

Phil was cut off and Tubbo shook his head, “F-first night wi’out Ranboo,” he said between sobs.

“This is your first night without Ranboo?” Philza asked to confirm. Tubbo nodded and hummed a ‘mhm’ into his sleeve as he tried to wipe his dripping nose.

Guilt swirled in Phil’s stomach as he realized what being without Ranboo meant to Tubbo. He bit the inside of his lip, trying to find a suitable replacement for the time being while they decided what to do about the two boys. Phil looked around the room before realizing nothing was of use.

“I know he’s not here but we will see him tomorrow, okay?” Phil reasoned with Tubbo. It took a moment but Tubbo nodded shyly, digging further into the blanket’s and Philza’s wings.

“No leave.” Tubbo demanded, his voice tiny and thick with emotion as he gripped onto Phil’s arm. Phil knew the grip was barely anything and the worst pulling away could do was leave some scratch marks down his arms but pulling away barely crossed his mind as he caught sight of the deperite eyes in front of him.

“I won’t, Tubbo, I promise. I’m right here for you.”

Phil was going to continue but was cut short as his door opened, a sleepy looking Tommy stepping in.

“He cryin’?” Tommy asked as his eyes tried to adjust to the dim lighting of the room.

“He was. Are you staying?” Phil whispered back, watching as Tubbo sat up to look at the newcomer.

“Sure.” Tommy quipped shortly, grabbing a nice chair from the corner of the room and pulling it over to the side of the bed, curling up loosely to fit.

“‘Ommy,” Tubbo whispered happily, a small smile gracing his puffy face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here, calm down.” He awkwardly patted Tubbo’s head just a little too roughly but Tubbo only minorly flinched away, neither of the older people noticing.

Tubbo yawned and laid back down, now facing Tommy. Phil was soon out like a light, snoring as Tubbo was not long after.

Tommy, however, was up a bit longer, debating with himself before finally opening up his wings and laying one across Tubbo, resting just on top of Phil’s before drifting off to sleep once more.

Chapter Text

Ranboo paused and looked at his room. It had been a few weeks since he had arrived but the room still felt so unfamiliar. Mornings came and he’d wake up and search for someone, any adult to tell him where he was and who he was. It all felt so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time. He knew a few things, at least. Tubbo was coming over and the man, Karl, he reminded himself, was going to keep teaching him how to write before then.

Ranboo lifted his arm to play with his hair, the bells jingling on his wrist, a gentle reminder of the tags on the bracelet he wore. He squinted at the words and pictures, remembering the lessons Karl had taught him and the pictures aiding his memory. A crude drawing of him with his name under and another drawing with ‘Karl’ written with scribbly handwriting. He lifted the other tag with a purple background, this one had five drawings and names, each with Tubbo and his family’s names under them.

He smiled as the faces came back to his mind and his surroundings became more familiar and less anxiety-inducing. Karl had been a good teacher so far but he was still young and needed to learn through experience. Ranboo rolled over in bed as he looked out the window that was beside his bed, the bottom just cracked open enough to let a breeze through. He always enjoyed having it open, even when it rained, though he had to make sure the screen was down and he wasn’t on his bed.

Rolling out of bed, Ranboo shoved on some new clothes that Karl had laid out on his desk the night before, a loose button up with little red lilies on it and some khaki shorts. He didn’t bother with socks or shoes, just quietly slipping into the hallway as he peeked his head around the corner of his bedroom and the living room. Seeing no one was there, he slipped out, using all his strength to pull at the glass doors that led to the backyard. He cringed at the squeaking noise, pausing to see if there was any movement.

When he heard none, he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding and slipped out, small feet attached to legs that sloped like a cat’s stepping out onto the cool concrete of the porch, eyes adjusting to the brighter outside. It wasn’t quite day, however, more dusk while the sun had yet to even rise. Stones crumbled under his feet, the pain minor and the sensation almost calming as wind gently played with his hair, the freshly cut stands only able to be lifted in the front where it was longest.

Ranboo breathed in the fresh air, nature being a newfound appreciation to him, something he had never really experienced before. Any time he was out of the house, he was in the city with smog and sludge, only ever able to focus on the gripping fear as larger hands squeezed and pulled at his arms and ears.

Phantom pressure ghosted over his body as Ranboo shivered at the memory, opening his eyes, ones he wasn't sure when he closed, he stepped further into the lawn, grass squishing pleasantly as he did. The wind was stronger out here and with a calm pace, Ranboo let his feet carry him to the garden, resting on the raw and wooden edges. Nails dug into the soil and fell between his fingers, a soft sigh leaving him as his small palms held just a bit of the dirt. He crawled further into the small garden, knees wet and dirty but the little one couldn’t bother to care. Short fingers prodded at the fruit and vegetables, nose sniffing the herbs and sweet smelling berries, mouth tasting a seemingly ripe raspberry before spitting it out after realizing it was covered in a layer of cobwebs.

“Ranboo! Ranboo!” A muffled voice called from inside the house. Ranboo frowned as the moment was broken, his ten minutes of silence and peace broken. Footsteps approached from behind him as he turned his head around, Karl out of breath and running over to him.

“Kiddo! You can’t run off like that,” His tone was kind and not at all overwhelming to the child, the somewhat familiar presence a little bit of solace from his happiness being broken.

“Sorry, Mr. Karl…” Karl smiled at the words, kneeling beside Ranboo as he gave him a sympathetic look.

“It’s alright. Do you want breakfast?”

Ranboo nodded and stood up, knees aching from having so much pressure on them. Taking Karl’s hand, they walked inside, Karl quickly handing him a paper towel to wipe himself off with.

“Grab your notebook and sit at the table, we can work while you eat so the sooner you finish, the faster we can visit Tubbo, alright?”

Ranboo nodded once more and gathered his books, pencil, and notebook, one he had decorated with an assortment of stickers. Well, Karl had done most of it but Ranboo told him which stickers to use.

Karl brought in a plate of eggs, grin wide at the sight of the boy and his compliance as he set the plate in front of Ranboo.

“Ready to get started, kiddo?”

Chapter Text

Tubbo awoke with a large yawn, mouth stretching wide as he rubbed his eyes clear from his sleep. The first thing he noticed was the warmth unlike any other he had felt before. It was soft but unusual and as he sat up, he watched as two pairs of wings fell off his body with gentle grace. Further investigation showed that one pair belonged to the older man beside him, the black feathers connecting to his back. Tubbo was shocked at the sight, never having known the other owned wings. His eyes followed the white pair and as he expected, they belonged to the dirty blond preteen who was curled up in a plush chair. The position was clearly uncomfortable but allowed his wings to spread out. One across his own body and one across Tubbo’s.

As the young one sat up, Tommy stirred too, the movement causing him to wake up. Tommy yawned and ruffled up his own hair, a few bones popping as he tried to get the crick out of his neck. When he finally opened his eyes, he jerked his wing back and off of the bed where it had been abandoned once Tubbo sat up.

“Oh, uh, hey! Don’t look at me like that. It fell on it’s own. It wasn’t meant to go on you,” Tommy stated harshly but his tone held no malice or anything that would upset the younger one. Tubbo, too baffled to really process the sudden outburst so early in the morning, just sat there, unknowing of what to say.

The noise caused a groan from the oldest beside Tubbo. Large, black wings flexing and unflexing before retreating into Philza’s back as they disappeared completely.

“Mm, mornin’,” Phil hummed as he sat up, a smile gracing his face as he saw his kids beside him.

“Morning, dad!” Tommy said, bordering on too loud for such an early morning.

Phil stretched once more before swinging his socked feet over the edge of the bed and standing up. “You two want something to eat?”

“Yes, please!” The bravado in Tommy’s voice was strong as he stood up from his chair and headed to the slightly ajar door of the bedroom.

“You, Tubbo? Something quick before we go and see Ranboo?”

Tubbo nodded and climbed off the bed, needing minimal assistance from Phil. “Mhm!”

The trio made their way downstairs, Tubbo gripping hard to Phil’s robe as they went to the kitchen.

“What would you like?” Phil asked as he began to get some basic ingredients out of the cupboard.

Tubbo hummed in thought, still new to all the options in front of him. “How about,” he held out the word to stall, “eggs!” His fists curled tightly at his sides as he beamed up at the father-figure with pride at being able to make the choice for the first time.

Phil hummed and nodded, grabbing the egg carton, some spices, and some day-old bread. Tubbo waddled over to the dining table, an extra seat with several pillows being added to the worn, circular table to make a spot just for him. Tommy saw his struggle and picked him up, plopping the child right on top of the pile of pillows before sitting in his usual seat across from Tubbo. Wilbur and Techno soon joined the pair at the table, just as Phil finished up the last plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Phil sat at the other side of Tubbo, Wil being on the other side, and all of them dug in, Phil spreading out butter on Tubbo’s toast, not yet trusting a five-year-old with a knife after having to raise two children who were once that age.

Once almost everyone was finished eating, Philza stood and collected the plates, “Tommy, Tubbo? Go get your shoes on. We should head out soon.”

Both children nearly burst out of their seats, Tubbo more than excited to see what was essentially his brother, and Tommy excited to see the boy who seemed like more than a viable playmate, even if he was way younger. Once dressed and ready with some assistance from their older brothers, the two ran downstairs and outside to see Phil on the porch, car keys dangling from his pointer finger.

“Ready?”

“Of course we are!” Tommy exclaimed, running off the porch and to the van, Tubbo falling far behind him with his tiny legs but still trying to keep up. Phil smiled fondly at the two but quickly ran over as Tubbo tripped over the curb and just barely caught himself before he fell to the concrete sidewalk. Phil breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the car, letting an impatient Tommy who had been tugging on the handle, into the car. The trio got in, Tubbo without a car seat despite Phil knowing full well that it was advised that the child should have one. The seatbelt dug into Tubbo’s neck but he couldn’t bring himself to care as the car pulled out of the driveway and into the uneven street of the neighborhood.

The ride to Karl’s house was short but Tommy was determined to put on music anyway, stealing his father’s phone and connecting it to the car as he loudly played his favorite songs.

Tubbo froze at the music, mind wanting to react and cry but body not complying, simply freezing with slightly wider eyes as the noise blasted through his ears. Instincts told him to cover his ears but his body just...wouldn’t. Fingers shook in his clenched fists as his mind finally was able to block the sound out. With the sacrifice of blocking everything and anything he could sense out. Tubbo felt as though his body wasn’t here, the panic lifting in a strange way as his brain tried to figure out what to do.

Tubbo was so out of it, confused, light, and weighted at the same time that he didn’t hear either voice calling his name or the hand gently shaking his knee, trying desperately to get him to react.