Work Text:
Tubbo had woken up this morning in one of his silent moods where he rarely spoke and drifted off into his head, staring out the window and not replying to questions. Michael had been fussy and loud, stomping his hooves to make the floorboards crack in the most anxiety inducing way. And Tommy had come to visit, armed to the teeth as he always was these days, demanding someone join him on a trip to Dream's vault to see if his old cow Henry was still there, only for the animal to die on the way back to the main SMP.
All in all, Ranboo was not having the best of days.
"Oh, gods," is all he can say. He'd just been trying to get Ghostbur's sheep Friend down a particularly steep side of the cliff, and then Tommy had yelled, and he'd turned just in time to see the slip, to hear - "Tommy, I'm - I'm so sorry, oh my gods."
Tommy doesn't seem to be listening. He's just staring, grey eyes wide, one hand clapped over his mouth, the other still clutching Henry's lead. It's such a painful sight, the utter shock and disbelief on his face morphing into grief in just one quick moment. Without a word, Tommy picks his way down the cliff face and slowly drops to his knees beside Henry, hands shaking hard as he places his hands on the cow's side, ridiculously gentle. Ranboo urges Friend to follow, and within a moment is at the bottom with the smaller boy, a couple feet away with no idea of what to do now.
"I…" he starts, before realizing there really isn't anything to say in a situation like this. There's nothing easy to come out with or any healing words that will reset time, and certainly nothing that will make Tommy feel anything but worse, so he steps back and pulls Friend closer and goes silent. Tommy is tracing his fingertips along Henry's side like he's trying to will a heartbeat into existence, and his bottom lip is trembling, and his face is set despite the way his eyes glimmer wetly.
"We need to get Friend back to Ghostbur," he said hoarsely. He gets to his feet, and a chipped iron shovel materializes in his hands from his inventory. His knuckles are white and his face is just as pale. "And I need to bury Henry."
Ranboo nods and ties the blue sheep to a nearby tree, busying himself with perfect knots so he can give Tommy space. He takes far longer than he needs to, dirtying his gloves scraping against tree bark, refusing to turn and simply whispering to the animal on the other end of the lead. "Hey, hey, hey," he hushes, scratching the top of Friend's fluffy head. "Be good, we're gonna get you home safe. You're gonna see Ghostbur again."
He pretends not to hear the soft hitches of breath behind him, pretends that when he glances round to make sure Tommy's ok he's not wiping his eyes with his sleeve as he glares into the shallow hole he's carved out of the earth. Ranboo is silent as he pulls out his own netherite shovel and taps the grass with it, catching the boy's attention. He whips round, startled, and Ranboo hands it to him, handle first. Tommy's face is red with tears and embarrassment and he takes the shovel silently, tossing aside his own and finishing the hole in record time as Ranboo looks away and hums a tune, combing his fingers through Friend's fur. Neither boy speaks for close to half an hour, even after Tommy's pushed Henry into the grave and sat next to it in silence, shaking, breathing shallowly.
He pretends not to see Tommy's knife flash when he cuts a piece of leather from Henry's body and wraps it up in a piece of cloth before gently tucking it into his enderchest.
It takes him half as long to bury Henry, and by that time it's getting dark. Ranboo glances at the dense forest surrounding them and - gods, he really doesn't want to rush the guy, but if they don't get a move on, they'll be following Henry straight into the grave. "Hey, uh, Tommy?" he starts. Even with as quiet as he tries to be, Tommy still jumps when he hears the taller boy's voice, eyes wide when he looks up in surprise. Ranboo winces apologetically. "It's late. We should go. Start heading back to the main SMP."
Tommy nods. He sways on his feet as soon as he's standing, unsteady as though he's about to collapse. "Sorry," he mumbles, one hand flying to cover his mouth as he visibly pales. "Fuck's - sake."
He stumbles off to the side out of view. Ranboo can hear him throwing up even from here.
When Tommy returns, a slight bit of colour has returned to his cheeks, and his hair is significantly wilder, tangled curls falling into his eyes. "We should head back, yeah?" he says loudly. Like nothing happened. "Yeah, yeah, 's dark, 's dark. Good news for Wil- Ghostbur, then, yeah? He'll be happy, I'm sure he missed Friend. Maybe he'll hang about some more if he's got someone to stay for."
There's a dark bitterness in his tone that Ranboo picks up on but doesn't point out. "Mhm, mhm," is all he says, and tugs the lead of the sleepy sheep to get him to follow. Tommy walks on ahead, shivering in his thin t-shirt and clutching the tops of his arms.
Nighttime is difficult to navigate, especially when transporting fragile cargo - which Ranboo supposes counts for both Friend and Tommy. Mobs spawn in every shadow, hissing and creaking and moaning and humming, and with every sound, Tommy gets more on edge. Eventually he starts to hang back by Ranboo's side, close enough that they brush shoulders with each step. It's after a skeleton appears particularly close to them with a round of rattling bones that Tommy squeaks and grabs Ranboo's arm, looking close to fainting, and the hybrid boy decides that maybe it'd be easiest to just stop for the night somewhere and wait for the sun to come up.
"I'll set up a tent," he says softly. "I have materials on me, torches too - you stay here and look after Friend while I set up and message Tubbo to let him know we're ok."
Tommy seems only too happy to agree, and hugs his knees and shoves his back against a nearby tree while Ranboo puts up a tent with materials from his inventory and lights torches around them to keep more mobs from spawning. "I'm done," he tells Tommy, a small spark of pride in his chest from having done it correctly. "You wanna come over and sit inside?"
Tommy doesn't answer. He's holding Friend now, cuddling the sheep like a teddy bear against his chest. Eyes far away. Ranboo recognizes that look in his eyes from Tubbo when he's upset and falters, trying to think of things to say as if there's anything that will make this better.
"Tommy?" he tries again weakly. "You ok?"
He sees Tommy's face crumple and eyes overflow with water before the boy buries his face into Friend's side, stifling his grief stricken sob in blue wool. Something pangs Ranboo's chest painfully, and he hisses through his teeth under his mask.
"Oh, boy," he mumbles to himself, suddenly feeling very out of place. "Oh, boy. Um…"
He eventually decides on sitting by Tommy's side, just a foot or so away, cross legged and uncertain of how to proceed. Tommy hates him, Ranboo knows that, he barely tolerates him because he knows Tubbo loves him and only let the Ender boy come along because he was scared to go alone, and yet. And yet. Here is Tommy, crying his eyes out into Friend's side and hugging the sheep close against his chest, practically cradling him like a child. Ranboo should say something. He's so bad at situations like these. What do you say when someone loses a loved one just like that?
It had been different when Tommy had died because Tubbo had been in disbelief for two days afterwards until he'd finally started to realize that maybe this wasn't some big early April Fool's prank all along. And Tubbo keeps his emotions hidden no matter what they are, refusing outside help unless it's absolutely forced upon him. Tommy… Tommy, Ranboo doesn't understand. "You're alright," he murmurs, feeling silly and uncertain. "Uh. I'm sorry."
At that moment, Friend squirms in Tommy's arms and pulls himself away, shaking himself off and tottering a few feet away. Tommy protests loudly, a few whines of despair escaping him as the sheep leaves him, and for a moment Ranboo can see his blotchy, tear streaked face, the grief shining across his eyes. Then he curls into himself in a tiny ball, trembling, little shaky sobs wracking his body as he shatters even further.
Ranboo's never felt so helpless.
"It's not fair," Tommy suddenly says, and his voice is so broken and small and undoubtedly childish. He sounds ten years younger. "It isn't fair, I was this close, I was this close to being happy, Ranboo. If that fucking bastard hadn't kept Henry in that stupid vault in the first place then this never would have happened. This never would have had to happen."
Ranboo stiffens, because he knows how important his next response will be. "Well - well, maybe it wasn't the real Henry? Maybe it was just a fake."
A pained, keening wail leaves Tommy's mouth. "But then Henry's still fucking dead! And now I have to mourn him all over again!"
His next few sobs are louder, and Ranboo feels like he should do something, but still he just sits and frantically wracks his mind. "Well, we - we have Friend, at the least. This trip wasn't for nothing."
Tommy curses loudly, shaking his head against his knees. "Oh, fantastic, we saved my dead brother's pet sheep, woohoo," he cheers sarcastically, hiccuping and wiping his face with his sleeve. "I'm sure he'll be real fuckin' grateful, won't he, bloody hell…"
Ranboo swallows. "Well, you can… find something else to make you happy? Can't you?"
A shaky sigh. "No," Tommy moans miserably, sounding more childlike, more soft. "Dream's still around, he'll just destroy it."
"I mean," Ranboo says, shifting on the spot. "Dream's in the prison, now."
Tommy suddenly sits up, angry desperation written across every line of his face. "No, because he's - he's gonna break out. I told you this. I told you this. No one believes me, but he's gonna break out, and then we're fucked, but he's gonna break out and he'll come after me, Ranboo. He's gonna take everything I love and break it right in front of me like in exile. He's not even here and Henry's dead. Fuck's sake." He clenches his fists, more tears falling from his eyes and shining in the torchlight. "Fucking Dream. I hate him. I hate him. I'm going to kill that bastard, I should have just finished him off when I could, I hate him, Ranboo, I hate him so fucking much -"
And then he's crying again, this time openly, not even bothering to cover his face. Ranboo shuffles slightly closer, awkwardly, almost afraid of Tommy turning and snapping at him. He holds his hand out without looking and doesn't say a word when the smaller boy takes it. They bask in the relative quiet. Tommy shakes with cold and grief.
"Hey, Ranboo?" the boy whispers. He sniffles and scrubs his face again, staring at Friend eating grass not far off. "You know how - you know when people ask you, Ranboo, "say when it's too much?""
Ranboo nods.
Tommy's breath hitches, and he clutches his stomach, hopelessness filling his eyes. "It's too much."
Oh.
"Is there anything I can do?" Ranboo asks softly. His fingers trace the back of Tommy's hand.
Tommy yanks his hand away like he's just realized what he'd been doing. "No," he says sharply. "My fucking pet is dead. I loved that stupid cow. Which was stupid of me, of course, cause everything you love on this awful goddamn server gets killed or blown up, doesn't it? I don't know why I even fucking tried."
He curls up again after his outburst. Ranboo breathes in, breathes out.
"I've, uh, lost some pets too," he says. "My skeleton horse Ranbone, my bird Ranbird, my own cow Ranmoo, my cat -"
Tommy interrupts him with, surprisingly, a sudden giggle. "Don't tell me," he wheezes softly. "Rancat? Catboo?"
Ranboo laughs with him, grateful for a reprieve. "Jeffrey," he admits, which immediately makes Tommy burst into peals of laughter. "What! It's a good name!"
Tommy shakes his head, but goes silent after a moment. Ranboo continues. "Yeah, uh. I lost them. Some during Doomsday, some to my own idiocy - still hurt either way. It sucks losing someone or something you love. I'd know. But really, all you can do is cling to what you have. You have… you have Tubbo. And your discs. And of course, you're welcome to stay in Snowchester at any time. You'll always have a home or a place to stay with us." He sighs, staring at his hands. "It might not seem like much, but when - when I joined this server, I had nothing. I didn't think staying here would even be in my best interest at first. And after Doomsday, I was, uh… don't tell Tubbo this, but I was considering leaving again and never coming back. Burning all the evidence of ever having been here. But now look at me. I'm married and have a son and friends and allies and a home. You've had that too and you can have it again. It just might take time and it might be difficult and it might hurt, but it'll be worth it. Y'know? You just have to… rebuild."
Friend makes a small bleating noise and turns around, padding over to Tommy and plopping down across his legs. Tommy gasps softly and pulls Friend closer, letting the sleepy sheep rest across his chest, his head beneath the boy's chin. Tommy blinks more tears away, sniffling and wiping his face.
"Your pets have dumb names," he mumbles, and closes his eyes.
Ranboo smiles. He didn't expect much else to come from him, honestly. So he's surprised when Tommy speaks again, not looking at him, hiding most of his face in Friend's wool again.
"I was kind of the opposite of you. I… I had everything when I came to this server. I had both my brothers, I was on good terms with Techno and Phil, we had a place to stay, we had big ideas and plans for the future, we had tools and we grinded for supplies and Fundy was young and played pranks with us and we didn't even know the small area we liked to stay in would later become L'manberg. We were just happy. And Henry was one of my oldest cows, he was my favourite, and I loved him the most - I didn't even see him die. Didn't have anything to bury." He takes a shaky breath. "At least he got a grave this time. And we saved Friend, so that's something."
He slowly gets to his feet. Friend has fallen asleep and is snuffling softly, so Tommy carries him too. "Anyway. I'm taking the tent for me and Friend. If you want your own, you'll have to build another one. Goodnight."
Ranboo stares at him in complete disbelief as Tommy smirks and darts into the tent. "Are you kidding?" he says aloud. "I hate this server."
Tommy only laughs in response.
They pack up and leave the next morning. As they do so, Tommy passes by Ranboo and quickly mutters something that he would have missed if he hadn't been paying attention.
"Thanks for lending me your shovel," is what he says. "And for listening to me talk. And for not making fun of me."
Ranboo's surprised Tommy's mentioning last night's events at all. "Yeah, of course," he whispers back. "Are you alright now?"
Tommy nods, face crimson with embarrassment. "I'm cool. Now we never talk about this or anything that I said or did last night ever again." He glares at Ranboo. "Agreed?"
Ranboo nods, biting back a smile. "Agreed."
They're silent on the way back. But the sun shines brighter.