Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t know where he was or how he got there. His whole body burned and itched. He couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t feel his hands. With a worried gasp, his eyes flew open. He stood up. His head weighed a thousand pounds and the world tilted. Soon enough, his eyes were closed again. The snow continued to eat away at his skin through his thin clothes.

This time everything was made of pain. He was laying on a bed of broken glass that cut into every inch of his skin. He was certain that his fingers would be lost to frostbite and his skin had been melted off by the snow. Waking up a second time, he took it slow.

The sky was a dull winter grey. Storm clouds blocked out the sun, threatening to somehow make his skin worse. Trees branched over him to create a mock blanket from the skies above. He was convinced that they were a cage to trap him in this suffocating snow. When he turned his head to find his fingers, his head still pounded like before. However, all ten fingers were graciously encased in thick leather gloves, untouched. His feet, however, were soaked by snow that had fallen into his boots.

He slowly sat up and looked at his surroundings once more. He was in a forest of tall evergreen trees. A fox was chasing a rabbit away to his right. Food, he realized. The sight of the fox pouncing on top of the rabbit made his stomach growl. Maybe he could scare the fox away, leaving something for him to eat. No, there wasn’t any dry wood to make a fire.

Although the reminder of food had gotten him up on his dizzy feet, he still had nothing to eat. He leaned against the tree for a moment to right himself when he smelled it. It stung his nose with an iron edge. Immediately, he knew what it was. He checked himself over from head to toe until he found the wound on the back of his head and his fingers came away purple.

A gust of wind weaved through the trees and blew snow into his face. He looked up to see the dark grey clouds hanging over him now. He would have started to find food, but when the first flakes fell onto his face pain quickly followed.

He still didn’t know where he came from, so he spun in a circle, looking for a familiar place. Empty-handed, he followed straight where he now faced, barely noticing his own limp.

He lost count of the days after the third. He only remembered that day because that was when he finally found food. Somehow, underneath all the snow of the ongoing blizzard, he found a sweet berry bush. He piled as many as he could into his shaking fingers and ate what was left. Within the next hour, he promptly threw up. Now he learned his lesson and ate the berries sparingly, one at a time.

A few days later he came across a frozen river he had to cross. It was a balancing disaster and he nearly fell twice. The only thing that kept him upright was the promise of more pain.

When he reached the tundra, he was so tired. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion but his brain had told him to keep scratching the water away. The storm had finally stopped but its cloud still loomed over him with the promise of more. More pain, more difficulty trekking this endless gap between snow and safety, wherever that may be.

He had run out of sweet berries days ago and his stomach had never let him forget it. It was so tempting to close his eyes and rest, but to lay down would just make his condition worse. Never mind that the itching would keep him wide awake until nothing was keeping him on this plane any longer.

One step after the other, he willed himself to keep going. He thought of freshly roasted chicken and a warm cup of tea. After he ate he would sleep in a bed under the weight of blankets that was more than him.

The snow started falling again. Each step into the frozen blanket made him stumble. He kept going. He was walking up a hill. He had reached the top of the hill to find something glowing. There was a chimney chuffing smoke out of a cabin. There were lights. There were people.

“Yes!” he cheered and threw his hands up into the air. There would be food. There would be tea and more blankets than he weighed. He could eat and sleep and rest. He could get out of the snow.

He stumbled down the hilled and slowly climbed over the fence. His burns and exhaustion kept his body from matching his enthusiasm. It was a miracle he stayed straight and true. Upon his entrance, he heard wolves barking and howling. There was a small building next to the cabin where he could hear them scratch and jump at the sound outside. He was the sound outside, he realized.

He kept trudging through the snow that the occupants refused to shovel. He didn’t feel any itching anymore and hadn't for days. He had gone numb a long time ago and wondered if there was any hope in saving his skin or if it would scar.

The wolves continued to bark and scratch at the wooden house that held them in. The doors could burst open at any moment and he would be dog food. A crash of a door slamming open brought his attention to the two cabins joined by a bridge.

A figure stood by the staircase staring him down through a mask of bone. The teeth of the creature it belonged to stuck out menacingly, ready to catch any swords that dare come near its wearer’s face, he supposed. A cloak billowed around the stranger’s feet.

Warmth. He had forgotten all about it. Even strangely forgotten that he somehow wasn’t cold. The idea excited him so much that he kept wading through the cursed snow to get closer to salvation. Reality came to him when he heard a click. He looked up to find a loaded crossbow pointed directly at him. Unconsciously, his hand went up to the cut on the back of his head that had stopped bleeding eons ago.

“What are you doing here?” the man called over the wind. It was thrashing this way and that, threatening to tear out the stranger’s pink braid.

He was speechless. Partly because he hadn’t talked in days. Partly because he never thought that the first person he came across wouldn’t welcome him into their home. He stopped walking and stared at the snow, thinking.

The only answer that came to his lips was, “I don’t know.”

Are you here to hurt me? Who are you with? Where did you come from? What is your name? Do you know who I am?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Panic swelled in his chest at this revelation. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t even know his own name. He had nothing with him but the clothes on his back. He didn’t even have memories. Who lost memories?

“Are you hurt?” The final question ended the moment of silence between them. He broke his gaze on the ground to see that the stranger had lowered his crossbow.

Once again, his hand reached up to the back of his head and brushed the wound gently. “I don’t know.”

It all came back in an avalanche. His skin burned everywhere. He hadn’t eaten in days. His stomach was twisting in on itself and his head was pounding from every little thing wrong. Everything was so heavy and numb yet on fire at the same time. He needed sleep.

The stranger had run down the stairs and caught him before he had fallen into the snow. Arms were wrapped around him in a sad excuse of a hug. The stranger shifted to have him leaning on him instead. One careful step after the other, the two of them scaled the stairs and barged into the house.

“Phil!” the stranger yelled out into the empty room.

Pounding, pounding, and more pounding. He was crashing. This was the end of it. He had trekked on for so long only to be knocked off his feet at the end.

The stranger threw him into a wooden chair that almost buckled at the force. He pulled off his drenched and stained shirt. The lights were blinding. He could shut his eyes now. There was no reason not to sleep.

“No. Keep them open,” the stranger ordered. He blinked rapidly and tried to sit up straighter. “Philza! I need regen!”

A moment later another man was barrelling down the stairs. His dark wings nearly hit the top of the doorway when he walked in with a potion in each hand. “Holy hell.”

The avian- Philza, hurried over and started applying the potion to his arms. He could feel the skin knit back together until he blissfully felt nothing. No pain or burning or itching. The masked stranger was now pulling off his shoes, socks, and more. He would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t hanging onto consciousness by a single string.

He closed his eyes again.

“What color are your eyes? ” a different voice asked him. “Open them so I can find out.”

He obliged to find the avian looking up at him. He stopped what he was doing, the potion dripping from his hands onto the floor. He, himself, couldn’t look away. He kept staring Phil in the eyes, frozen in place, until Philza blinked the awe away and moved back to work.

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” he barely croaked out and sat up a bit straighter. Philza shook his head, refusing to look back up at him. “What’s wrong with them?”

The masked stranger came downstairs with a bundle of clothes in his arms. He met his eyes and asked again.

“Nothing,” the stranger scoffed. “They’re just different colors.”

“What colors?” He shifted uncomfortably as Phil opened the next potion.

“Green on the black side,” the stranger pointed to each eye he was referring to. “And red on the white side.”

His now naked hands lifted to his eyes. He was two different colors? His hands reached his hair and fisted them, nearly panicking. “And my hair?”

“Same thing. Black and white. I’ll get you a mirror later.” The stranger handed him another potion and ordered him to drink. It tasted fruity like watermelon. He nearly choked on it when his free hand felt something growing out of his head. “Yes, you have horns. Like I said, I’ll get you a mirror later.”

His hands continued to explore his head to find long thin ears covered in rings and chains. It confused him even more. He had no idea what kind of person he could have been that would have allowed him to wear so much jewelry. He looked at the pile of clothes amassed on the table to see a few thin rings that must have fit under his gloves. He looked between his two hosts to compare them to him. Phil had nothing on his but simple clothes. The mask, however, had gold fixing its imperfections. The stranger was nearly wearing as many earrings as he was. There was so much gold on this stranger; more that was on him.

His gaze was caught by Philza leaving both potions empty on the table in favor of the small kitchen across the room. He was so excited to have something other than berries but he was so tired… The wafting scent of stew let him stay awake for a little longer as the avian placed a full bowl in front of him.

He forced himself to stand up to put on the clothes that were too wide yet too short for him to properly fit into. He looked from Phil to the masked stranger and realized he was taller than both of the men. He sat down without another thought to eat his food while the two discussed in not so discreet whispers behind him.

“He was just outside?” Philza asked in hushed tones.

“He set the dogs off. He had no idea what he was doing.” He imagined there was a nod between the question and the answer.

“And he didn’t know anything?”

“He doesn’t even know his own name, Phil.” There was a moment of silence before the masked stranger used his normal voice once more. “No. You are not adopting a fourth wayward boy.”

“You weren’t wayward,” Philza muttered under his breath. “You were…”

He looked back at the two of them with broth dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away before it fell onto his borrowed shirt. The masked stranger was staring after Phil as the avian walked up to the table and sat down. His eyes followed the man the whole way.

“Wayward,” the stranger supplied.

Phil elected to ignore him. “You can stay with Techno and me for as long as you need to.”

Techno threw up his hands in defeat. “Phil-”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he interrupted. “I don’t even have a name.”

Philza glanced from him to Techno while he kept his eyes on the skull mask. Techno met his gaze.

“Beauregard. It references your eyes.”

That was all Philza needed to get up and start rambling to himself about a third bed while Techno dished himself some stew. The two of them ate in silence while he tried to keep his eyes open for Philza to be done. When the avian called his new name, Beauregard was relieved to notice that the potions Phil and Techno had given him were already taking effect. He was healing quickly and was as grateful as ever to fall asleep comfortably in a bed for the first time since he forgot everything. Nevertheless, Beauregard still slept soundlessly for days, letting his body heal before anything else would be done.

Chapter Text

Beauregard didn’t want to get up when he finally opened his eyes. While he had learned he didn’t need it, he had grown rather fond of the warm cocoon of blankets he spent quite some time in. He realized he had no idea how long he slept, but when he woke up the sky was golden and the sun was just above the hills.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and willed himself to at least roll out of his bed with a blanket or two wrapped around him. The blanket only fell just past his knees. His feet were bare but unbothered by the cold tundra morning.

The clock on the wall was inconveniently placed across the room. Although, as Beauregard trudged up to it with a yawn, he did realize that it was truly morning. In fact, it was just past dawn. He didn’t expect Techno or Philza to be awake at this hour. Nevertheless, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen in hopes to find something to eat.

Both Phil and Techno were in the kitchen drinking tea, fully dressed.

“It’s not even an hour past dawn…” Beauregard looked at them with concern written in his mismatched eyes. Both of his hosts nodded. Techno didn’t lift his eyes off of his book. Phil pointed to the food on the counter silently, taking another sip. “How long have you been up?”

Techno shrugged while Philza looked up at the clock on the wall. “About… two, three hours?” Techno nodded.

“How?” Beauregard picked up the plate of bread and bacon. He stood there eating his breakfast. The small kitchen table still only had the two chairs it was accustomed to, leaving Beauregard nowhere to sit.

“We’re two outcasts living in the middle of nowhere,” Techno finally spoke. “Being self-sustainable takes time.”

“And so does staying fit for combat,” Phil added in. He got up and passed Beauregard to wash out his mug in the basin.

Techno took his eyes off of his book to look Beauregard up and down. “You clearly wouldn’t know.”

Beauregard’s mouth dropped open, full of food. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re skinny as shit with no muscle on you.” Philza was by the door now, layering coats and furs and shoving his feet into thick boots. When he opened up the door, a cold gust of wind furiously cut through the room as if it was waiting to charge. “And drink some water. You’ve been sleeping for days.”

Before Beauregard could respond to Phil, it was just him and Techno in the room. The silence was suffocating but Beauregard managed to sit down across from the man. He had barely noticed that Techno was no longer wearing his mask but glasses instead. There was no denying that the stoic warrior was human. His face and hands were littered with scars that Beauregard didn’t have a chance to notice when they first met. One even ran through his right eye, leaving it useless and red.

Techno caught him staring and met his gaze. Beauregard swallowed awkwardly but couldn’t find it in himself to look away. Despite his allergy, he would have much rather been drinking water as Philza told him to. Now, however, Beauregard noticed the golden ring through Techno’s nose. He blinked and lowered his gaze to his half-eaten food only after Techno had returned to his book.

“Where are my things?”

“Your things? You arrived with nothing but the clothes on your back.”

“Yes, but I had rings and shoes.” Beauregard looked down at his hands and flexed them uncomfortably. He didn’t need to look at the tan lines to know that he was used to wearing them. Techno grunted but didn’t answer. Beauregard pressed on, “So?”

“They’re in my house across the bridge.”

Beauregard thought of the wind whipping the several feet of snow across the plain. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Techno set his book down to put away his mug just like Philza had.

Beauregard curiously pulled the volume across the table to take a look at it. He didn’t understand that bumble of symbols grouped across the page. There were diagrams that made even less sense and a few colors he didn’t understand the point of. “What language is this in?”

Techno laughed. “‘What language is this in?’” He mocked. “English. We’re speaking it.”

“This doesn’t make any sense to me,” Beauregard admitted with honesty that surprised even himself.

“It’s just an old book from a friend.” The words sounded bittersweet. Beauregard was focused on something more shocking than that.

“No, not like that.” Beauregard squinted at the pages, scratching a spot behind the horns he still hadn’t had a chance to look at. “I can’t read it.”

With that, Techno walked over and looked over Beauregard’s shoulder. “So you don’t know your name and you don’t know how to read. I’m surprised you know how to speak at this rate.” Beauregard has several things to say about that comment but elected to stay silent. “Hell, Beau, if you can’t read, I’ll teach you.”

He picked up the book again, skimming over the pages as if to verify that it was really English.

“Oh. Uh…” Techno’s demeanor had changed from teasing to generous so quickly that it had taken Beauregard aback. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. No problem. It sticks teaching you how to fight on Philza.” There it was. The character who wasn’t quite ready to welcome a stranger into his home. Beau suspected that he was going to stick around for quite a while longer.

Techno left shortly after. Their conversation was over but a promise was made. Beauregard quietly finished the rest of his breakfast without interruption and soon found the courage to find Philza across the bridge, or at least his rings. He was already getting jumpy without them.

The journey was quick and simple. Beau waited for the wind to die down before he pulled his blanket tightly around him and cleared the bridge in a matter of steps with his long legs. This door was taller than the other, so he didn’t need to crouch to enter the cottage.

Unlike the other building that was made to be lived in, this one was much more cluttered and storage-oriented. Beau wondered how Techno could call this his home if there was barely any space to live in it. No wonder he was having tea across the bridge.

Beau found his things set down on a chest below a window. He carefully started to slip his rings on, guessing which ones went onto which fingers by using the oddly shaped tan lines he still had. It was noticeable that he had at least a ring for every finger, except for his ring finger. Maybe he was alone with or without memories.

Carefully, he felt his boots to see if they were dry from the snow before he slipped them back onto his feet. He was already feeling sturdier.

Beau spotted Philza climbing up the ladder by the amount of noise he made. The avian was carrying a sword and some armor carefully as he navigated the ladder up from the basement one-handed. Beau offered help and with Phil’s nod, carefully took the objects from his arms.

“What are these for?”

“Well, Techno just caught me with the audacity to tell me I have the short end of the stick. So now I’m teaching you how to fight.”

“I don’t… I don’t need to fight.” Beau stared at the wooden sword in his hand and tried not to think about the amount of damage a real one could do.
“When you don’t remember who you are, you don’t remember who your enemies are. So you’ll have to protect yourself from everyone.” Philza shut the trapped

door underneath and turned to face Beau. “Come one now. We don’t have all day. Hit me.”

Beau quickly shrugged on the ill-fitting armor and picked up his sword. He had no idea how to hold it but he improvised as well as he could. He swung it at Philza with full force, stumbling into it and hardly hitting him. He caught himself before he fell over. It was obvious that everything he had just done was wrong. Yet, like it wasn’t obvious, Phil lifted Beau’s sword and said, “No.”

He sighed. Of course, it was wrong. He didn’t even know how to read. Philza shouldn’t expect him to know how to fight.

“First of all, you’re not holding it correctly. Don’t stack your hands on top of each other.” Philza moved around the sword and next to Beauregard, moving the amnesiac’s hands with his own. “Place one right beneath the quillons and one above the pommel. This balances it.”

Beau nodded, barely understanding what he was being told. Phil told him to swing again, so he did. He fell forward even more than before and barely caught himself before he fell into the wall.

“That was even worse than before!”

He held no reaction that Beau nearly fell flat on his face. “Because your footing was worse than before. It’s complete shit.”

“So are you going to tell me what was wrong with it?” Beauregard drew up his shoulders as Philza watched him.

“No. you tell me.”

Beauregard was starting to notice why Techno and Phil got along so well. Neither of them knew how to answer a question in a way that actually helped him.

“I had the wrong leg out?” He genuinely had no idea what he was doing. No one could answer that question when their only experience was two disastrous swings.

“You had a lot more than the wrong leg out,” Philza explained. He kept explaining and Beau kept trying. With each chaotic swing, Phil pointed out where Beauregard went wrong and told him how each correction benefitted his technique. They were done when the sun had risen above them and Beau was slick with sweat, panting. He would have jumped in the snow if he could to cool off, instead, he sat on the stone wall of the bridge now that the wind had died down.

He was watching the horizon with no real story to find in it. Techno had let his dogs loose in the morning and they were running around, enjoying themselves. A few bears and livestock were wandering around for food as well. Phil has brought him lunch at one point. Since then it was just Beauregard, his potato, and the few dogs that begged for scraps.

Across the plain, Beau could see a black dot climb down the hill and leave a just as dark trail behind him. The dogs raced towards the figure. It sheathed its sword in response, holding its hands out to the excited pack. Barks and howls climbed over Beauregard’s thoughts.

Was it Techno? Was it someone who was after Beau? He hadn’t noticed where Philza went after he had brought his food, but he wished he had now. He rose from his seat on the fence, eagerly trying to spot some sort of detail of the person walking through the crowd of wolves. That’s when he realized.

Techno had arrived home wearing blood not of his own.

Every inch of him was covered. Most of it was black but there were no mistaking the streaks of red and green that covered his clothes as well. Although Beau tried to pretend the purple on Techno’s sleeve was a trick of the light, his gut dropped.

“Oh, my gods! Are you okay?” Beau raced to Techno as soon as he had climbed the stairs.

He took off his mask and looked himself up and down as if he were checking for ticks in the summer. Shrugging he looked up at Beau, “Yeah. Meet me in the kitchen in twenty. You’re learning how to read.”

“Welcome home, Techno.” Beau turned to see Phil climbing the opposite set of stairs.

“Philza.” Techno nodded in greeting and disappeared inside.

“Is he okay?” There was no point in hiding the panic in his voice. Techno had come home covered in blood and there was no way for Beau to know what was his and what wasn’t. The worst part was that neither of them cared like it was normal. Surely it couldn’t be normal to arrive home bathed in blood.

“Of course he’s okay. He’s Techno.” Philza frowned at the bloody footprints left in the walkway. “He does this every week.”

Oh, dear gods. It was normal.

“There was purple blood on him.” He continued when Philza didn’t answer, but rather stood there, waiting. “I bleed purple.”

“That you do.” Silence still stood between them, blocking out any answers to Beau’s questions. “I’m assuming you’ve never heard of the blood god or the angel of death.”

Beau shook his head. He hadn’t heard of anything.

“Well… many villages know of them. They know of them well. They’re sort of a legend. But not one you tell your kids at night so they behave. The stories are too bloody for that. The blood god and the angel of death were brothers, though some knew of them as father and son. The god’s prayers demanded blood to be spilled. The angel would protect those he called family with the strength of a thousand men. It’s said that they slaughtered all of the natives until the only towns left were the ones they were from. No one has seen them since.”

Beau stayed silent, glancing from the blood trail across the yard and Philza’s ebony wings. His mouth suddenly felt dry as he opened it to say something. No words followed.

“Don’t worry.” Phil passed Beau to cross into his own home. “Techno wasn’t wrong when he said you’d be my ‘fourth wayward boy’.”

He was left standing alone on the bridge. Beau had been taken into the home of a bloodthirsty god and a possessive immortal. They hadn’t killed him yet. They had offered him so much more than death. So why did it feel wrong?

Beau stayed outside for what he planned to be the rest of the day, petting the dogs that had welcomed him in the morning and unconsciously avoiding Philza and Techno. Soon enough, Techno had come out of Philza’s, asking if he had to teach Beau how to tell time as well. Blood couldn’t wait, and apparently learning to read couldn’t either.

Something was wrong. Pain shattered against his cheek and later his shoulder, pinning his arm to the ground. All Beau could see was dark, but he could still hear the world around him… barely. A voice was fading in and out of his head.

“Beau! Beauregard!” Philza.

He forced his eyes open and sure enough, Phil was hovering over him, wings tucked in tight. He held out his hands and pulled Beauregard up. Techno was standing behind the avian, watching Beau carefully. He was sporting an expression that had his brows furrowed and eyes focused on Beau, which was something that Beau realized in the past few days was him thinking.

In their few lessons together, Techno was not nearly as laid back as Phil was, but just as patient. He didn’t teach by pointing out all of Beau’s mistakes but by guiding him through what he should know from the very beginning. Now, towering over both Beau and Phil, Techno was about to point out a mistake.

“Wha- what happened?” Beau cautiously brought his hand up to his stinging cheek. Looking past the two men before him, he noticed that the sky was dark and littered with stars. He was outside with no recollection of how he got there. His shirt was wet and- oh gods. Oh, gods oh gods. There was blood on it.

Beau jumped back as if it would help him put distance between him and his stained shirt. Philza immediately caught him and pulled him back onto his feet before he fell over the wall and into the snow. Beau started clawing at it instead. The blood had to get off of him.

“It’s just chicken blood. You’re fine. Everyone is fine.”

“The chicken isn’t.” Beau looked at Phil, eyes wide with panic.

“Damn right my chicken isn’t,” Techno spoke up from behind them. Philza cut him a glare but the god kept going. “You barged out of the house, completely purple, and started killing chickens, mumbling to yourself. You weren’t speaking English either. That’s for sure.”

The night was silent beyond crazed chickens and Beau panting. Slowly, he calmed down with Philza and Techno beside him. The night was alive but the air was still. No one dared to ask the questions hanging between them.

What was Beau?

Chapter Text

If Beau’s violent sleepwalking continued, neither Philza nor Techno told him. Then again, Beauregard didn’t tell them he had decided sleep wasn’t worth the life of Techno’s chickens or worse… the dogs. He figured it was easy to stay awake seeing as he was not human. Although his species was unknown to him, it quickly became clear regular sleep was a luxury rather than a necessity.

With these sleepless nights, he had picked up a few projects of his own. The first and most important one was sneaking around the house without waking Philza. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to the others. However, Beau still hadn’t found the heart to tell the angel that he was allergic to water so telling him he didn’t need sleep either could wait.

During the night, he read whatever books were laying around downstairs to practice what Techno had been teaching him. Most of the time the words were difficult, but they challenged him in a way that truly helped his progress. Usually said books were Techno’s personal books that he had left from his morning tea.

Tonight, there were only Phil’s enchantment books. Beau flipped through the pages. He was aware that the spells were written in a different language that had its own alphabet. There was no way for him to understand it but the curves of the foreign letters were almost calming to him. There was something familiar about them.

He moved on to the last book, hoping it was in the only language he recognized. Surely enough, the pages were filled with strange yet understandable symbols. Beau glanced at the cover before he dove into the book. It was a word he didn’t know how to pronounce. He set the book down and pulled out the notebook he had learned to carry around. On a page filled with random words he brought to Techno, Beau copied down ‘Ghasts’ with as much detail as he could muster.

The notebook was nothing special. It was small and bound in leather. Beau knew how to spell fewer words than he knew how to read, but he kept it close to him anyways. It was useful for all of Beau’s projects. The book was currently open to one of the many pages filled with words Beau didn’t understand. Others were filled with things he had done during his days there. His spelling was comprehensible at best. If Beau were being honest, he was afraid of forgetting again and he’d rather have a difficult time translating his poor writing than start another life from scratch.

With a candle lit beside him to provide the little light he needed, Beau sat down at the kitchen table, the book about ‘ghasts’ in hand, and began to read. He read and read and read until Philza groggily made his way down the stairs. Beau barely noticed until the avian grumbled a good morning and scared the nether out of him. He dropped the book and scrambled out of his seat to steady the candle before he managed to light the house on fire.

Philza chuckled before he turned to light the furnace. “What has you up early, mate?”

“Uh… late,” Beau stumbled over his words as he fell back into his chair. “I couldn’t sleep.”

As Phil continued his morning routine, Beau looked over everything he had written down from the night. Most of his notes were the never-ending list of confusing words. Some, however, were little annotations of another list he had been keeping. It was no secret between the three of them in the tundra that Beau had forgotten everything about himself, including his ethnicity and, well, species. He dedicated an entire page of his notebook to things he had picked up about himself while learning how to simply live again. His allergy to water and odd sleep schedule were nothing to be kept off of the list. He also kept a list of physical traits as mirrors weren’t kept around in Philza and Techno’s home. The latter having to dig one up as a special occasion for Beau to know what he looked like.

He still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of having horns or a tail. It was quite ridiculous since it wasn’t like he grew them overnight. He simply forgot about them. In all honesty, he found everything off-putting, especially his own features. He had a white patch that covered half of his face and his arm down to the tips of his fingers. It’s what he assumed made his left horn white and eye red. He understood it was probably natural and just something he inherited from his parents, but the idea of being uneven scratched at the wrong part of his brain.

The creak of the cottage door broke Beau out of his train of thought. Fortunately, he was not as jumpy this time around. Techno had arrived completely dressed and ready for the day ahead, nowhere near as sleepy as Philza still was. Mask in hand, he turned to Beau and arched a brow in question. “Up early?”

Once again, Beau shook his head. “Up late.”

“Well get some shut-eye before your eyes start stinging. You can’t read like that.”

Beau shook his head again and pulled his notebook closer to him. “I don’t need to sleep as often as you guys. I’ve been up for a few days now.”

Philza was the first one to speak up, turning off the furnace and handing a cup of tea over to Techno. “At least tell me you’re staying hydrated, Beau.”

Beau swallowed nervously. He didn’t want Phil to be mad at him for keeping his allergy to himself for so long. “I’m… I’m allergic. That’s why I was so sick when I came here. From all the snow.”

“Have you not been sleeping since the chicken?” Techno asked while Phil searched for something in the kitchen. Beau nodded, busying himself by playing with the book in front of him. “You sure it’s not stress or somethin’?”

Before Beau could answer the question, Philza was holding a glass of water out to him. He stared at it, arching his brow as to why his host had just handed him the one thing he was allergic to.

“Drink it through the straw. I doubt you’re entirely allergic to water. It’s too important for a living creature to not need. Maybe your skin is just averse to it.”

Beau looked from Phil to Techno and to Phil again. He cautiously brought the straw to his lips and took a sip. It didn’t burn or itch or make him want to claw at his insides. He felt… fine. He actually felt really good. Maybe he was dehydrated.

Phil had returned to the worn-in kitchen before Beau had even realized he was missing in front of him. He handed Beau a potion that the guest didn’t question.

Techno cleared his throat to gather their attention before he announced that he was going out to his vault to take stock of things. Without thinking much of anything beyond leaving the house, Beauregard quickly asked if he could tag along. The now masked man laughed to himself, one could say almost nervously, as he and Phil exchanged looks. The avian nodded.

The room was still. Beau felt as if his fate was just decided between the two of them. He sat frozen in the chair, looking at a spot in the kitchen between the two of them.

“Bundle up tight, Beau,” Techno left the room before something else could be said.

He turned to Philza, looking for that something to be said.

“If you start feeling funny, drink that health potion and come back before you get worse.”

A nod was all that went between them as Phil turned around and once again disappeared upstairs. Beau sat down in his chair, clutching the potion to his chest, wondering what in the world made the blood god nervous to bring Beau along. He knew he wasn’t helpless although he was close to it. However, if it were truly a danger, Techno would have decided against Beau coming along. So what was in this infamous vault?

Ten minutes later, Techno burst into laughter when Beau came out with what he believed to be Phil’s entire winter wardrobe.

“He wouldn’t let me walk through the door with less,” Beau’s voice was muffled by the scarves Phil had wrapped around his face. There was no denying that he was melting inside, proving that Beau did in fact, not sweat.

Somewhere in his laughter, Techno found it in himself to come up to Beau to help him pull off a few layers. “You don’t need that much on you,” he barely managed before he started cackling again. “If it was really an issue, I’d put you on Steve.”

“Who’s Steve?”

Techno nodded over to the polar bear being climbed by wolves in his sleep. Beau let out an audible, “Oh.”

This time, stepping into the snow was nothing but a crunch under his boots. When he first arrived, the snow was just below his knees. Now it was well above them from the frequent storms that had kept him inside. He felt fine with all of the layers Phil had ordered on him, but just in case the potion was tucked inside one of his pockets. He had also brought his notebook along. However, with his fingers in thick gloves and the snow much higher than he remembered, it wasn’t looking like Beau would have the chance to ask Techno about his list of words after all.

The walk to the vault was shorter than he expected, although he didn’t really know what he expected. Maybe an elaborate trek across the snowy plains that required inside knowledge to find the end of. In reality, the vault was simply built into the hill on the opposite side of Philza’s home.

There were no dogs or polar bears on this side of the hill, but it was clearly lit up by torches as Phil and Techno’s territory. The only mobs visible were tundra rabbits and wild chickens. It was peaceful if one didn’t know who resided on the other side of the hill.

Beau kept his eyes on the horizon, watching the sunrise above them, as Techno went ahead and opened the vault. An untamed wolf wandered over to a white rabbit under the golden sun. Beau only realized that the animal was hunting the other for food when the red spilled across the snow. He winced, thoughts immediately jumping back to the chicken and the horrors that his sleep brought to others.

Watching the wildlife had become too much for him, so he decided to see what Techno was doing inside of the vault. The moment he lifts his eyes off of the snow, he regretted that very choice.

It was difficult to run through the feet of snow, but Beau made it work. He had no destination in mind, only the thought to get out and away from the vault and Techno. Death was in that vault, piles upon piles of death, waiting to be brought upon people. The vault was overflowing with it and Techno had casually mentioned that he needed to count it this morning. As if he were counting the season’s crops.

Beau had managed to forget nearly everything about the world around him, but the fear that the vault struck was unmistakable. Techno was storing wither skulls. Those were one of the rarest harvests in the verse, only surrendered by a few wither skeletons of hundreds that would need to be fought. It only took three and some soul sand to summon a wither that could destroy towns on its own. Techno had hundreds. He could make so many withers, and destroy so many towns. He could kill so many people and still have the free hands to stand back and watch.

His name echoed over the hills and startled him. The stick he was avoiding was now right in his way. He tripped over it and tumbled down into the snow, pain meeting him faster than the ground did.

Beau quickly reached into his jacket to search his pockets for the potion Phil had given him. Shakily, he pulled it up to his lips and drank it, barely avoiding coughing it up as he panted from his panic.

He couldn’t stay in a home cared for by bloodthirsty gods with a stockpile of wither skulls. He had nowhere else to go and water was already seeping through his clothes. He had to figure out something before Techno found him and killed him. He had to… he had… had to…

Someone else was there, making the snow crunch under their feet. “Oh, Beau.” Techno stood over them not a second later. It was easy for Beau to notice that the god wore no armor and wielded no weapons. Was he not going to kill him?

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have already done it and Philza would be displaying my head on a pike.”

Beau shrunk into his furs more, realizing he had spoken aloud. Techno reached out an empty hand. He stared at it.

“Can I help you up?”

Oh. That’s all he wanted.

He stared at it for a moment longer before slowly extending a shaky hand. Techno’s steady grip pulled him back onto his feet in no time.

“Those skulls…” Techno started to explain but his words faded into nothing. He looked down at his belt and unsheathed sword. Beau visibly jumped and started backing up until Techno held out his sword for Beau to take, realizing how unsafe he still felt even without the apparent danger. “Those skulls are from when I took on… odd jobs for the diamonds. Now, I’m in retirement with Philza. We live here in isolation peacefully. I keep the wither skulls so no one else has a chance to use them against anyone and well… Phil and I aren’t exactly known for making friends.”

Beau looked down at the sword in his hands. He understood that Techno was doing his best to make Beau feel safe, but in reality, it was a mock safety. He only had a few days of training under his belt when the man beside him was a legend. Techno didn’t need a sword to kill Beau and Beau was more likely to kill himself with one rather than his opponent.

He had no words to say about Techno’s past or the vault filled with death, but he did have a few things to say about the snow working away at his skin. “Can we go back now? It hurts.”

Techno nodded and led the way back home. Phil was there, waiting on the bridge for them. Beau walked straight into the house, more focused on trying not to itch than saying hello. Either way, the other two followed him inside silently and Philza walked off before Beau could tell him he had fallen into the snow.

He started peeling his layers off painfully after he set Techno’s sword down on the kitchen table. Philza had a rule against such things, according to Techno, but Beau was too itchy to care. Nor was he quite ready to talk to him again.

When Philza came downstairs, he graciously was carrying regeneration potions in his hands. Beau took them from him wordlessly and started to apply them to his rash.

“So,” Philza broke the uncomfortable silence that suffocated the three of them. “What did you think of the vault?”

Beau only glared at Philza for bringing it up. He didn’t want to talk about it at all. He wanted to go upstairs into the room that he had just started to make his own, and curl up with one of Techno’s dogs. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Techno, however, was more than willing to talk to Phil. “He ran.”

Over in the kitchen, Philza was setting water on the furnace for their second cup of tea of the day. Beau could have sworn he heard Phil laugh to himself over the crackle of the fire. “Beau ran. Beau ran, Beau ran, Beau ran… Ranbeau.”

The words blended together and he muttered to himself. Beau wasn’t sure when they had turned from comprehensible words to a nickname, but it was already a reminder of his cowardice. He hated it.

“No, no…” He set an empty potion bottle down with a thud. “Please no.”

Philza continued chuckling to himself, offering Beau tea with a straw. He and Techno slipped easily into conversation that Beau imagined came from their years of knowing each other. He, on the other hand, quickly drank his tea and slipped upstairs away from the commotion to sort out his thoughts.

Over the next few days, it was obvious that Beau wasn’t as recovered as he claimed to be after he discovered the wither skulls. Techno and Philza- mostly the latter- had tried to coax him downstairs for lessons, if not to read or spar, then to at least eat. After a while, the knocks only came with his meals and one of Techno’s dogs to keep him company. That was better than nothing, Beau supposed, but he still didn’t want to talk to either of them.

By the end of the third day in isolation, Techno had asked to come in. Beau only accepted him because he was the guest and Techno, the host. The retired warrior was carrying quite a few things in with him that confused Beau. He sat up while Techno placed most of them on the edge of the bed. He turned to greet his dog yapping at his heels.
“So… I, um… have been gettin’ the feeling that you want to leave.”

Beau remained silent. He hadn’t really thought about leaving the cottage. He had shut down the past few days and tried not to think much of anything. Despite Phil and Techno’s constant nagging for him to come downstairs and do something, he had been sneaking into Phil’s room where he kept his books and borrowed a few to read. His list of words he didn’t understand was growing. He still wouldn’t ask Techno about them.

“If you do end up leaving, I got you a few things to stay safe. They’re yours if you stay too.” Techno stood there awkwardly while Beau leaned forwards and sifted through the things, just as silent.

When he had mentioned he wanted Beau to stay safe, he wasn’t joking. The pile included everything Beau would imagine he ever needed. Each armor piece and tool shined with their enchantments. Among the pile, Beau picked up a compass that pointed past Techno and through the door. He walked up to Phil’s window to see that it was pointing to the beacon outside.

“If you ever need help or accidentally make enemies, you’ll know your way back.”

Beau nodded, looking down at the compass and turning it over in his hands. It was nothing special, just a plain compass. There were no engravings or special symbols, but it was a place he could go. He tucked it in his pocket and went downstairs.

As seemingly always, Philza was in the kitchen making something for the rest of them. He looked up from the furnace. He glanced at Beau quickly before looking behind him, where Beau assumed Techno was following.

“Are you leaving?” Philza turned back to Beau.

He was silent for a moment as he sat down at the table, but when he pulled out the compass to turn it over in his hands again, he nodded. There was really no danger in leaving. Out there he could find his past, find a place where he felt safe, or if all else failed he had an invitation to come back and stay. “I want to see what else is out there. Maybe I can learn who I am.”

Once again, instead of answering him, Philza disappeared up to the second floor. Beau was too preoccupied with inspecting the compass to care until the avian had come back downstairs. In front of him, Phil held out a golden chain with a small green emerald cut into the shape of a heart. Beau looked up at him.

“It’s a friendship emerald. I only give them to the people I trust most in the world. If you ever come across someone else with one, you know you can trust them and they will trust you.”

“Phil that’s your last-”

“I’m standing by this one, Techno,” Phil cut him off and gestured for Beau to take it.

The fact that Phil had enough trust in his character to make a promise not only to himself, but other people he had yet to meet, shocked him. Nevertheless, Beau took the chain from Philza and hung it around his neck. The emerald was small enough for most people to only notice it if they were looking for it. Beau still tucked it under his shirt in fear of it falling off.

That night, they ate one final meal together as one makeshift family that never was. Techno took the liberty of making his potato stew. Beau thought it was poetic that the first thing he ate here would also be the last.

He decided to leave that night, despite Techno trying to convince him to stay for one more to avoid hostile mobs. Beau insisted that he should get a head start wherever he would be going. When he said goodbye to Techno and Philza, he could notice how solemn each of them was, like they had done this before and had failed yet again. The look in Phil’s eyes told Beau that he should hug him goodbye, seeing as they may never meet again. And maybe, if it weren’t for the vault, he would have.

Chapter Text

Beau walked through the next two nights and days. He didn’t stop in fear of the snow seeping through his clothes and burning away his skin. He wasn’t all too sure of where he was heading either. When he left Phil and Techno’s home, he had chosen a random direction and stuck to it.

Oddly enough, something felt right about wandering aimlessly. He was so grateful to have had a warm cottage appear on his path earlier. It worried him that he had nowhere to go in a sea of cold, but the calmness of having no destinations or responsibilities chaining him down outweighed the negative feeling. It scratched the right part of his brain to explore with no place to go. So he kept walking, finding himself collecting the flowers and blades of grass that were brave enough to peek through the mounds of snow. Bored, he had woven them all into a flower crown he now wore on his head. The weight of it was comforting. It was all comforting. It felt right.

The sun was slowly rising over the hills. It had just crested above them and spilled its golden glow across the tundra. It was beautiful. Beau could watch it rise and fall every day. However, right now he needed to move down this hill before he lost his balance and fell over instead. He would have worried about leaving a trail of footprints away- some part of him demanding not to be seen- but the arctic snow swept them out from existence before he even had the chance to brush them away.

At that point, he had run out of food. He really didn’t know how to pack for travel and was now learning the hard way to always bring more than he thought he needed. And with more luck than he ever bargained for, a small village with smoke puffing out of its chimneys had just crested over the horizon. It was built right next to a frozen river that he was pretty sure winded around the tundra all the way to the cottage. He was so close, yet so far, and would have run if he weren’t afraid of toppling over.

The village was small and quaint. Not many people were out and about, but those who were looked at Beau like he had five heads. Well, he supposed to them he did, seeing how distinctly hornless, tailless, and tan they all were. The moment someone in iron armor saw him they started approaching him. He stopped in his tracks, hunching over to look smaller. He didn’t want to be seen. Was he in trouble?

“Papers, please,” the guard asked with their hand out. Beau didn’t have any papers. He had his memory book but he doubted that was what the guard was asking for. Not everyone had memory books. The guard cleared his throat, “Documentation, please.”

“I… I don’t have any,” Beau stuttered over his words. “I just got here.”

The guard sighed in disappointment but somehow narrowed their eyes in what was probably suspicion. Beau thought back to what Philza had said about everyone being his enemy. “Follow me,” The guard ordered and rested a hand on his sword.

The guard strode down the streets Beauregard had just walked through until the two of them reached a large building resting on top of a hill, overlooking the town square. The guard knocked on the door for a smaller woman to open up. She glanced from them and up to Beau. From his perspective, Philza was short, even though Techno said Beau was only half a foot taller than him. This woman was small.

“Can I help you two?” she croaked with nerves. It calmed Beau to know he wasn’t the only one anxious about this strange situation.

“New in town. Needs papers.” They walked off without another word.

She looked Beauregard up and down as if to determine how much of a threat he was. He wasn’t wearing any of his armor nor were any of his tools stored outside of his bag. The only thing threatening about him was his height. Which, he supposed to this woman, was very very tall. They locked eyes for a moment and Beau couldn’t find it in himself to look away. His whole body tensed in anticipation and something inside him told him to scream and alert the others. He didn’t understand why. She was just a person.

The woman broke eye contact first and opened the door further to allow him in. Beau bent over to pass under the door frame. He was a lot taller here than he was at Techno’s. Or the people here were a lot shorter than Techno and Phil. Beau didn’t think it was natural to grow a foot in two days. So yeah, the people here were shorter.

The woman herded him through the front door and to a bench that sat awkwardly in the middle of the hallway. It was rickety and an eyesore and Beau barely fit on it. The old wood creaked under his weight to the point where he knew if he sat down completely, it would break. So, Beau stood up on his feet again, uncomfortably bending over due to the short ceilings instead of breaking furniture he could not afford.

She came back a moment later with a stack of papers that made Beau’s heart fall into his stomach. He had to read all of that and fill it out himself. Beau forced himself to blink his worry away. It would be good practice he hadn’t been getting the past few days. It was still better than wither skulls.

He shakily took the quill from the woman and started his best reading the paperwork. The legal wording made no sense to him but he made the best out of it. He wasn’t sure they’d let him leave if he didn’t sign everything. He was internally grateful that “sign” was one of the first words Technoblade taught him to read, however many rules of the English language it had broken.

It felt like he was there for hours, struggling to read with squinted eyes and signing his name with shaking and anxious hands. But eventually, he finished it all. Beau handed it back to the woman, who was looking at him distastefully for all of the time he had spent with what must be the most simple task for those who were completely literate. One glance at his chicken scratch and she was already shaking her head in disapproval.

“You can’t leave your species blank!” Her voice is louder than it was before when she was tired at the door. Now she was loud and annoyed by the inconvenience that started her day.

“I… I can’t,” Beau said under his breath. There was no way that she understood what he said but he hoped silently to the End that she did. Inevitably, she raised her brow expectantly and Beau spoke up again. “I don’t know my species.”

“Well, you need to put someth-'' The slam of a door shut her up as she whipped her head towards the stairs leading to the second floor. She closed her open mouth when a small person stumbled down the stairs, rubbing their eyes under their absurdly long bangs, somehow exposing their small horns from beneath their bed head as well. Beau found it comforting that their hair covered their eyes. He wouldn’t get caught in them as he did with others. Although, he found himself wondering what color they were.

“Cynthia, it’s so early…” His whine was almost a mumble and still gravelly from sleep. Oh, End is was adorable. The sound made something turn on in Beau; some desire to start… purring? He shoved the instinct back down quickly before he could make a greater fool of himself. “Why are you so loud?”

Cynthia looked from him to the newcomer and back again. “Well someone new arrived in town and he’s having trouble with his paperwork.” She looked back down at the page as if to confirm it was still there. “He doesn’t even have a last name!”

“I don’t care.” He crossed his arms. “I was sleeping. You’re loud.”

“Will all respect sir, you’re the mayor. You should be up at a respectable-”

“I am up.” The mayor closed the space between him and Cynthia, taking the paperwork from her. “You woke me up from my beauty sleep. I’m not happy.”

The mayor finally took the time to look at Beau through all of the hair in front of his face. He looked Beau up and down before growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Hello, cutie.”

“I- uh… who? Whe- w-what?” Oh no no no no. Beau was not supposed to like that. Nope. He doesn’t know this person. This person doesn’t know him. They just met. He isn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Philza and Techno and-

No. He was supposed to be on his own. He was not supposed to be with the wither skulls.

Either way, Nether that was awkward. Beau scratched the back of his head for the sake of doing something with his hands, wincing when he accidentally found his cut with his nails. Beau averted his eyes from the mayor by looking at the floor instead.

He heard a few scribbles made on paper before the mayor started reading his name out loud… painfully. He was stuck on the first syllable, reading out every single vowel on its own. It made Beau smile, not because the mayor was failing, but because Beau wasn’t alone in not understanding.

“Beauregard,” he spoke up finally. Somehow finding it in himself to look at the mayor who had just called him cute in the face. He was still grateful his eyes were covered.

“That’s too much work,” he whined. Beau caught himself halfway through laughing that the mayor was complaining about pronouncing a name. Yet, Beau couldn’t be mad at this small, cranky, yet precious and somehow very much huggable person.

He didn’t dare say any of that aloud. Although his instinct told him to keep this one around. Maybe Beau could stay here for a while and figure things out. There certainly had to be a place to stay temporarily to see if he truly would be welcome in this small town or not. He certainly wanted to be.

“You can call me Ranbeau,” he offered without much thought. Sure, he hated that name with a passion when Philza mustered it up in all of his teasing. It wouldn’t be so bad if this one said it though. And he was certainly being proven right as the mayor sounded it out, quill scraping across the page and accent skewing the word a little. Yes. Coming from him, the name was fine.

He handed the papers back to Cynthia, who gave an aggravated sigh in return. She flipped through the pages quickly before ripping off the top one and handing it back to Beau. He looked it over while the mayor started walking off in a different direction than where he came from.

Assuming this was the paper that Beau was expected to carry everywhere, it had everything on it from his name, which was scratched out in favor of his nickname that the mayor misspelled as much as he mispronounced it- to a rough estimate of his outlandish height. He noticed immediately that crosses were going through the blank spaces where he was expected to put his surname and species. This tiny detail accepting him for not knowing who he is made him smile. The scribble of a signature he could barely make out at the bottom made his smile broaden.

“Tubbo,” he read aloud.

Tubbo spun around on his heels to face Beau. “Yes?”

He froze in his hunched-over spot in the room. He didn’t exactly plan on grabbing Tubbo’s attention, not exactly processing that it was his name either. Beau looked over to where Cynthia was, grateful that the spot was now empty and her office door now closed. That gave him an excuse.

“Is there somewhere I can stay?” He wouldn’t deny that his voice was small. He noticed over the past few days it shrunk when he was forced into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with. He hated it but there was nothing he could do about it. He was still learning how to exist… again.

Tubbo nodded, also glancing at the empty doorway where Cynthia just was. “I can show you. I know Cynthia would hate doing it. There’s a hotel just outside.”

Once again, Beau was led through the town hall doors that were way too short to be any sort of convenience for someone his size. Now, however, he was being led out of the building and being welcomed to stay. There were people raising families here, whom he was sure he could befriend. There were no wither skulls kept as a safety net or armor stored casually in basements.

The mayor led him across the square to a small three-story home that he imagined ran as the small hotel Tubbo mentioned. Of course, a town of this size wouldn't need some grand tourist attraction for all to see. Very quickly he was set up with a room on the second floor- seemingly the only one checked in and started settling in.

When Beau walked through the gates this morning, he thought he would only stay here for a night, giving himself the rest he needed and the day to refill his supplies. However, looking out onto the square and seeing the people happy to interact with one another, the only weapons being carried by the scarce guards protecting their people, Beau knew he’d like to stay longer than that.

Yes, looking across the square to the building on the hill where a sleepy mayor stayed- where he stood right now chatting with a golden man in a fish hat- he could stay here a while.

Chapter Text

Tubbo, as most leaders were, was always busy puttering around the village. He knew everyone he crossed paths with. He put a smile on for all of them. Beau could tell most of them were fake- just a mask over anxiety like the one he had mastered in the past few days. While Tubbo was catching up with everyone, Beau was meeting all of them. It was a lot more energy-consuming than wading through itchy snow. Most of the people he introduced himself to were people he had met on his own. He had taken up the hobby of exploring the village when nothing else came to his mind.

However, during one of the few times he was with Tubbo rather than running into him, the mayor had taken the time to introduce him to the town builder, Foolish. Together, the three of them made the only people who weren’t human in this small arctic town. L'Manberg, Tubbo had called it.

The builder in question was somehow taller than Beau. He towered over the amnesiac by at least a foot. It made sense that Foolish rambled on to Tubbo about raising the ceilings of town buildings. It was painful for Beau to even think about how much his back hurt hunching over all day.

The two of them got along quickly. They bonded over their inconvenient heights and lack of human heritage. Foolish was apparently a sentient totem of undying. Beau didn’t really understand his story, but he had a sense that it was somehow similar to Techno and Philza’s. His gut told him that he had just once again met a being of legend. But that was okay because Foolish was nice. He even brought Beau to realize that he had a knack for interior design in his past life and surprisingly in this one as well.

Despite all of the people that Beau had acquainted himself with the past few days and the potential friend he had made as well, he was alone right now. Staying up in his room the previous nights, Beau had busied himself with writing down people’s names and descriptions in his book. And after he found a mirror tucked away in the closet he started taking notes on his own appearance, too, not fully understanding that he existed physically. But tonight, those actions had grown boring and repetitive. His armor and tools were still shining in his chest from disuse and Beau couldn’t help but notice that the moon was full tonight. It practically lit the whole town in a glow. The part of him that enjoyed wandering across the tundra lit up again, calling him out into the peaceful moonlight. He shrugged on his shoes. Beau supposed he could wander around L'Manberg tonight. It didn’t seem there was any reason to stop him.

The air was even colder at night, welcoming Beau with its open arms. He knew it was because he was inhuman, but the fact that he differed from everyone around him was still off-putting. He didn’t wish to be seen.

If anyone was outside with him, they could hear his shoes against the cobbled pathways. The dead silence was a stage for the sounds echoing off of walls. The echo covered the second set of feet in a light blanket. Beau couldn’t hear them because he was entranced with the giant moon staring down at him. However, if someone were looking for them, they would easily be found.

It finally caught Beau’s attention when a guard rounded the corner, iron armor clanking together with each step. Oh, End. He got himself in trouble again. Was he not supposed to be outside at night? He had his papers with him. Or- No, they were still there. Beau could feel the folded paper on the inside of his jacket.

When the guard finally caught up to Beau, he recognized him as the guard who escorted him to the town hall on the first day. With a glance from the guard, Beau reached into his jacket and handed him the papers.

“Alright, Ranboo.” Beau didn’t understand why the words were laced with venom, but he could smell it in the air. Did he do something to insult the guard? Did he do something wrong? “I’m assuming you don’t know about the curfew seeing as you’re… here.” The guard gestured and Beau nodded. No one had told him about the curfew. He thought the streets were quiet because everyone was sleeping. “Well, normally protocol is to escort you to the barracks until curfew is over. But since Tubbo likes you, he won’t fire me for waking him up.”

He waited for Beau to turn around and start them off instead of leading the way himself. Beau was happy that he had figured his way around town. Otherwise, this would have been a very embarrassing interaction.

The front door was still small and the ceiling was still too low. He noticed that the guard stumbled looking for the redstone lever that turned the lights on.

Beau thought it was odd to turn the lights on. He could see the hallway perfectly fine. He didn’t need a light to make it easier to see things. In fact, it made everything too bright to properly see. Beau had to squint against the bright lights before his eyes slowly adjusted.

Now it was the guard’s turn to lead Beau through to their final destination. The two of them entered the room Beau had noticed Tubbo heading into when they had first met. It didn’t take him long to notice that it was a small room filled with diagrams of explosives and books strewn about on different surfaces- the bookshelves, the desk in the center of the room, and even the floor. They were all flipped open to random pages that Beau could barely make out the details of. The many diagrams that weren’t tacked up onto the wall were laid across all three of the chairs sitting in the room, some even spread out on the floor. This office was Tubbo’s, he realized. End, how one tiny person could create so much mess.

With nowhere to sit in all of the debris, Beau stood in the middle of the room. The guard stepped back to press a button hidden behind a poster. Beau pretended not to notice but marked it to write in his memory book later, just in case.

“If the normal protocol is to lock me up until dawn, why did you bring me to Tubbo?”

The guard shrugged, returning to Beau’s side defensively and watching for the door. “Orders. He wanted an excuse to see you… and I don’t trust you.”

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to him that others might not trust him. Not only was he peaceful, but he really did not know his way around a blade or bow. But then again, not everyone could tell that just by looking at him, especially if they were judging him by appearance alone. His thoughts went back to his horns just before he jumped as the door creaked up behind him.

Tubbo walked through the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind him. Beau could see he had just rolled out of bed. His hair was all messed up like before and he was very obviously rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As if that weren’t enough for the whole room to know he had just been sleeping, he yawned wider than Beau had ever seen a living creature do so.

Once again, a tickle rose in the back of Beau’s throat that he associated with the idea of purring. He would be honest he hadn’t tested this theory out, but it certainly was not the time to do so. He coughed it up instead.

The sleepily cute mayor shuffled across the dirty floor to plop right into his chair on the other side of the desk. Beau could feel Tubbo looking at him, but the hair hanging in front of his face brushed the uncomfortableness away. The blushing, however, Beau cursed it a thousandfold. Maybe he should grow his hair out ridiculously long so no one could see him blush. That wasn’t that bad of a plan.

“Ranboo here was out past curfew.” The guard gestured to him. He could feel a cold glare being cut in his direction. He kept his eyes on the floor. It was better than looking at them.

“I don’t care. I was sleeping.” Tubbo slouched further into his seat. Beau could barely see him over the desk.

“Sir-”

“Just let me sleep and let him do whatever he wants,” he groaned. “He’s too anxious to murder someone anyway.”

What… what was that supposed to mean? And why did Beau have the sudden urge to prove him wrong? He didn’t want to hurt anyone. So why was he getting the nearly overwhelming urge to do so?

He kept staring at the floor, blinking as his surroundings slowly faded in and out of focus. He didn’t even notice when the guard left the office. Beau just needed to ground himself with something and panicking wasn’t working. Was this what happened before he killed Techno’s chicken? There weren’t any chicken’s around, only Tubbo.

He could barely hear Tubbo shuffle things around on his desk before he cleared his throat and called the name he gave Beau, “Ranboo?” The sound brought him back into reality. He snapped his head up to look at Tubbo, who had now sat up in his chair and looked much more awake. “Why were you outside?”

Beau blinked. He could simply say he couldn’t sleep. It was also an option to say he just wanted to look at the stars. There was no reason for Beau to tell him the truth about his sleep schedule. He probably shouldn’t, not knowing who knew him in his past and who didn’t. Either way, Beau ended up telling him the truth.

“I sleepwalk. It’s not normal sleepwalking. I get very aggravated and violent.” Beau lowered his eyes from Tubbo and back to the floor. He could see the buttons on his jacket and decided to play with them to busy his shaking hands. “Last time I did it, Tubbo… I killed a chicken. I don’t want it to escalate and hurt a person. So, I don’t sleep.”

Once he finished, Beau looked back at Tubbo. “Everyone should be able to sleep, Ranboo,” Tubbo sighed. “It’s not right that you can’t for the safety of others.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Tubbo continued.

“I know someone really good with redstone. Maybe they can modify your door and windows so you’re not worried about getting out.”

Beau nodded. He stared at his multicolored hands, remembering he wasn’t human. “I don’t… I don’t think I need that much sleep actually. I’m obviously not human… I’ve been awake for a while and I’m not that tired.”

“Do you have any idea what you are?” Tubbo rounded the corner of his desk to meet Beau. Beau didn’t notice that he had stood up. He shook his head quickly before following up with a verbal answer. “Well, do you know what your parents are?”

He stilled for a moment, staring at a wall. He hadn’t even thought of having parents. There could be people out there looking for him. He could not only have a past but a family. Why was he sitting here in a small town where he stuck out like a sore thumb? He wasn’t going to find what he needed here-

“Ranboo?” Right. That’s what he was in town for. To give Tubbo a chance like he gave Techno and Philza. To make friends.

“I don’t remember my parents,” Beau said softly, realizing that was the first time he had mentioned the idea of them aloud. “I don’t remember much of anything, actually.”

He shrugged awkwardly, reaching a hand behind his head as pain spread across his skull. He had started itching the cut again. He needed to stop. Tubbo on the other hand was humming to himself, looking Beau up and down like he was a puzzle that needed to be solved. Beau didn’t move, especially when Tubbo pushed his hair out of his face to look him in his mismatched eyes.

Tubbo’s were blue. Beau couldn’t help notice that they were as blue as the arctic sky on the odd day it didn’t storm. Tubbo looked away, wandering around his office again. On instinct, Beau’s gaze followed those unfairly pretty eyes and watched them shift with the light. The farther he walked away, the darker they became. Almost like the hot chocolate the tavernkeeper made him when he first arrived. Beau didn’t understand how they changed colors so dramatically, but he could watch it all day. His bone-chilling anxiety that came with it could take a trip to the Nether for all he cared.

“You look like an enderman.”

“A what?”

“You know, those big tall black creatures that teleport.” No, he had never heard of these creatures. Beau shook his head although Tubbo wasn’t watching. “They have glowy purple eyes. Which you don’t have, but your green one reminds me of them.”

Tubbo was squinting at the books lining his walls. He took as long as Beau would have to read each spine, sometimes pulling out one that met his requirements. “Not many people know much about them. I’ve never looked at these before, but maybe these books can help.”

He pulled off some of the blueprints littering the desk and chairs to set down the armful of books. Unceremoniously, the posters were tossed onto the floor, threatening to wrinkle and crease. Tubbo paid no more mind to them.

Unsure of what to do, Beau sat down across the desk to face Tubbo in his mayoral chair. He picked a random book and started flipping through it, searching for any words that would resemble “enderman”.

“These words are hard,” he admitted aloud.

Tubbo nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it, big man. They’re just floating all over the page.”

“They aren’t floating. They’re just hard to read.” Beau looked up from his book to see Tubbo rubbing his eyes. That’s when he noticed the red scar on the back of his hand running up his arm. Beau had been so distracted by his eyes earlier that he just now saw that another one curled over the line of his jaw. “Tubbo…” he started. A protective instinct welled up inside him but he decided last minute to push it down. It wouldn’t be fair to directly ask Tubbo about his scars. When the mayor grunted in acknowledgment he realized he had to think of something else quickly. “Why are protocols so strict in L'Manberg?”

“To keep bad people out,” was all he offered before turning the page. His voice had gotten quieter and he hadn’t directly addressed Beau like he usually did. It was time to change the subject.

He reached across the table to point to something in Tubbo’s book. “You don’t need to flip through the whole book. There’s a place in the back that lists where everything is.”

They reached for the corner of the page at the same time, their hands brushing together. Tubbo’s scar was stiff and smooth. Beau couldn’t hold his question back any longer. “Tubbo, how did you get-”

“A fire,” he cut Beau off and looked up at the supposed enderman.

He shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have asked. That was rude. Now Tubbo was going to think he’s a bad person. No no no. He’s ruined everything now. He’s going to have to leave.

“You can touch them,” he mumbled. “They don’t hurt.”

Relief washed over Beau. He didn’t mess up. Tubbo still liked him.

In fear of upsetting him again, he reached out to pet the scar on the back of Tubbo’s hand. It was still stiff and smooth. His fingers gently passed over the ridges that were made in the heat of the fire. Beau felt frustrated suddenly, over the fact that Tubbo had to go through that. He wanted to bring him somewhere cold where fires never existed.
“You blush purple.”

Beau hadn’t even known he was blushing, but with Tubbo’s directed attention towards it, he definitely blushed a much brighter purple. He had pulled his hand away from Tubbo’s, staring at him like he was trying to convince himself that the words that came out of his mouth were very much real. However, Beau already knew they were.

“Scar for scar!” Tubbo yelled with a volume that he shouldn’t have at this time of night.

“I don’t- I don’t…” Beau claimed, but Tubbo was already climbing onto his chair and reaching across the desk for Beau’s face.

“Yes, you do!” Tubbo cupped his chin and ran his thumb from the bridge of his nose down his cheek.

There it was, that desire to vocalize the comfort his touch brought him. Instead of satisfying it, Beau kept quiet and leaned into his hand. There was no denying that Tubbo has built up years of calluses on his palms and they were not the most comfortable thing in the world. They scratched at his skin while Tubbo pet his scar. He could hardly hear Tubbo mention how soft his skin was before his heavy eyes drifted shut for the first time in ages.

He could feel something jabbing into his shoulder repeatedly. It was light when he first woke up from it. But when it took him a moment to fully regain consciousness the jabs hardened and quickened.

“Ranboo.” Oh, that was… that was Tubbo. “Ranboo, I found a jackpot.”

He groaned as he pulled his arms out from under his head, rubbing his eyes open. “How long… When did I fall asleep?”

Tubbo had moved from his seat across the desk to next to Beau on the other side. Beau noticed that whatever clutter was on that chair had moved to the other one. He was propped up in the chair oddly, his back pressed against a corner rather than the back of the chair and legs pulled into him, creating a makeshift table for the book in his lap. After he had finished poking Beau awake, he rested his arm on the back of Beau’s chair as if he was too unwilling to pull away.

“An hour ago when we were showing each other our scars- Look!” He pulled away his hand to point at the diagrams of mobs littering the spread of his book.

Beau sat up and felt that his hair had been messed with. He reached up to feel the disaster that was most definitely there. He laughed to himself, “Were you petting my hair?”

His question went ignored as Tubbo reached blindly for Beau’s face and ended up hooking his wrist under Beau’s chin and pulling his whole face closer. “Look! Endermen! It’s all here!”

Now that Beau looked, it indeed was true that all of the diagrams and paragraphs of information on the pages in front of him were about nothing but endermen. A few diagrams had horns similar to his. None, however, had a white patch of skin or a tail.

“What does it say?”

Tubbo almost jumped into his answer before Beau even had a chance to finish his sentence. “Well, they're from a different dimension called the End. It’s similar to the Nether except it’s really cold with floating islands and just endermen and like two other mobs. Okay so, it’s nothing like the Nether, but it’s not part of this world. Some endermen have horns but it doesn’t look like any of them have tails. They speak their own language. It’s a bunch of growls and other sounds. There aren’t actual words. There’s also a hive mind of non-sentient endermen that serve a dragon. The dragon gives them the power to teleport somehow. That’s how some get into the Overworld. Also, they can unhook their jaws. Can you unhook your jaw?”

He turned to Beau expectantly, waiting for him to show off his cool inhuman features. Instead, Beau asked his own question, “Uh, no. I haven’t actually tried.” He leaned in closer to the book and Tubbo, curiously asking, “Does it say if they purr or not?”

Tubbo skimmed over the page again. Beau doubted he was reading thoroughly based on how difficult it was for him earlier. “Not directly, but I bet it’s part of their language.”
The anxiety Beau had built up waiting for an answer flooded away. It was normal. Hopefully, it was normal for him to feel so protective over those he liked too.
“Endermen don’t have tails or different colored eyes though. Maybe you’re part enderman,” Tubbo offered, more talking to himself than Beau, however.

Beau nodded, not truly listening to Tubbo but lost in his train of thought. He had an idea of his heritage, now knowing that he was part enderman. It was great. It was fantastic even, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. To him, it was amazing that he slept without hurting anyone. He slept soundlessly according to Tubbo. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

As Beau looked out the window, he noticed dawn was approaching. The sky started to brighten although there was no sign of the sun quite yet. The sun was always brighter than the moon. Beau couldn’t wait to watch it rise.

Chapter Text

“Ranboo!” Tubbo burst in with a smile louder than his voice.

“Wha- Tubbo?” Beau quickly snapped his memory book shut. He was sitting at his desk, still hunched over it from staying up all night and writing yesterday’s events in it. Yes, someone had set redstone locks on the door and windows, but that didn’t mean they would hold. So, he stayed up. “Tubbo, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you to L'Manberg's annual water festival!”

So that was what all of the chaos had been about the past few days. Beau wandered around as he always did. For the past week, he noticed that more people were out than normal. They were all working together to set up various activities that Beau didn’t entirely understand. He was too embarrassed to ask what all the preparation was for, but he offered to help all of those he could until the water became involved…

And there was so much water.

Now Tubbo was inviting him to participate in these very wet activities.

His skin already itched.

He didn’t want to upset Tubbo.

Tubbo was holding a bunch of small white flowers in his fist. They weren’t the prettiest. Some were crushed and others were missing petals. Beau felt the weight of a very dead flower crown on his head. Oh, End. Now he had to go.

“Okay.” It was a small and soft response that barely made it to Tubbo. Beau withdrew from his desk and closed the distance between them.

Tubbo was still waiting by the door, beaming up at Beau. He gave Beau the flowers before turning around. “Let’s go!”

“Uh, yeah,” Beau responded. He spun around to quickly grab his memory book off of his desk and tucked it into his pocket. It was better on him than left unattended in a room that wasn’t all his own.

The mayor practically raced down the stairs in a way that wouldn’t hold any political hierarchy. Beau chuckled at seeing it. It quickly faded when he realized why Tubbo didn’t care so much.

Tubbo was young. Beau didn’t have his own age to compare it to. But, it was so apparent regardless. He shouldn’t be responsible for an entire village. Why did so many adults appoint a child? Tubbo didn’t deserve that-

“Ranboo?” Tubbo was calling him from the tavern below. Beau hardly noticed that he had stopped in the middle of the staircase until Tubbo had snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah! I’m coming!” He reassured him and started down the steps again to find Tubbo speaking with the tavern keeper.

“Water festival?” he offered small talk.

Beau nodded. He looked over at Tubbo to find him still smiling.

“Tubbo, you never took me to the water festival when I moved here,” he turned to the hybrid accusingly.

“We were five. I didn’t even know what the water festival was.”

The tavern keeper laughed and took his glasses off to clean them. They reminded Beau of his own eyes. One lens was blue and another red. “Thirteen years later isn’t a bad place to start.”

Tubbo was five thirteen years ago. That meant he was mayor at-

“You’re eighteen?” Beau blurted out before he could stop himself. He shut his mouth as soon as he realized what he said.

“Well… seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in a few months though.”

“You’re mayor at seventeen…” Beau still couldn’t believe it. He knew he had just realized Tubbo was young but putting a number on it… he was shocked.

“Yeah,” he shrugged it off. Beau not only blinked himself out of his stupor but at Tubbo’s lack of care. “Let’s get going, Boo.”

He nodded quietly, following Tubbo out the door. Beau spared a glance over his shoulder at the tavern keeper. As young as Tubbo running his own business. Why couldn’t they all just be kids? Was he a kid, himself?

How old was Beau?

He glanced down at his hands as if they had an answer. Only, he was met with gloved hands and white flowers.

Right. Tubbo was outside waiting for him at the… water festival…

Beau let out a deep sigh that he hoped no one around him caught. Stepping outside, he pulled a few flowers out of the bouquet and started weaving them together into a new crown.

Despite his odd mood downstairs, Tubbo was nothing but grin outside. It was clear there were topics he wasn’t comfortable talking about with Beau. He should ask him about that later on. But now, he needed to find something in this water festival that wasn’t wet.

As soon as they met up once more, Tubbo dove into telling Beau all about the event. “The ice hasn’t melted yet so we could go ice skating. There’re also some snowball fights because that hasn’t melted either. And there’re these flavor ice treats on a stick. I forget what they’re called but they’re really good. So where do you want to start?”

Beau was silent for a moment, tracing the details over his half-made flower crown. His eyes shift up to Tubbo and quickly back down again. He had this whole day planned and Beau was allergic to all of it. “I’m… I'm allergic to water… Like endermen.”

Tubbo remained placid for a moment, staring out into the street. Beau could tell he was processing what had just been shared with him but it seemed to be taking him longer than Beau would have thought. It was like Tubbo’s whole definition of Beau had changed. Oh, he hated watching this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally broke the silence but his voice was still quiet.

Beau forced himself to look at Tubbo while he answered. “You were so excited for the festival. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“No- That’s not what I meant… Wait!” A smile grew on Tubbo’s cheeks once again. He reached for Beau’s hand and started to pull him through the streets, up the hill, and next to the town hall.

Running while hunched over was difficult, to say the least. Beau was tripping over his feet. However, it was more because of the rush he felt from holding Tubbo’s hand than actually maintaining his balance.

Around the corner of the house, there was a small pen filled with small wooly animals of various colors. Upon seeing Beau and Tubbo, the creatures called out. An older man was sitting outside of the pen, waving at the two visitors.

“These guys don’t have any water!” Tubbo announced, proud of himself and looking up at Beau expectantly.

“What are they?” Beau glanced from Tubbo to the animals. The old man scoffed.

“They’re sheep!” A weight in Beau’s gut grew when Tubbo let go of his hand. He climbed over the fence instead of using the perfectly functioning gate two steps away. Tubbo shoved his face to one’s. It made the resemblance click for Beau. Especially when the sheep’s horns knocked into Tubbo’s. “And they’re really really soooft.”

Beau stepped over the fence easily with his long legs. He crouched down to let a black sheep sniff his hand. Soon enough, it was licking his hand and trying to nibble at his fingers. Beau took his hand away to see how soft its coat was.

Oh, End, was Tubbo right. Beau’s hand was lost into the cloud of wool immediately. He didn’t want to ever take it out. The sheep leaned against his legs, thoroughly enjoying the scratches. It was too awkward for Beau to bend over that way so he let himself fall over and sit on the ground. The black sheep happily followed him, now sprawled across his lanky limbs.

Never had another animal brought him so much joy at once. He hasn’t been this happy since he stumbled onto the cottage in the tundra. However, he was half delirious and hanging on by a thread to truly enjoy that feeling. This was right in front of him. And here he was, completely in the moment of petting the sheep. Beau barely noticed that he had let go of the mental dam he’d been building up the past week he had been in L'Manberg. Beau was purring.

It earned him an odd look from the man watching over the sheep. His eyes were wide and his mouth was gaping wide. The hay he had been chewing on fell out of his mouth and onto the muddy ground.

Humans didn’t purr. It wasn’t natural to them. He was weird and strange for doing it. It wasn’t right. He needed to stop reminding them that he was a creature known for killing them all because then they’d kick him out just for the fear of him turning against them. But he wouldn’t. He liked it here. He wanted to keep these people around him longer.

Beau silenced himself and hung his head in embarrassment. Through his bangs, he could see Tubbo watching him. He had a similar face that the shepherd did, but it wasn’t the same. Tubbo’s mouth was hanging open, but it was almost curling up into a smile.

Was he about to laugh at Beau? Maybe… maybe he should leave town. Maybe this place wasn’t right for him after all.

“They’re the softest thing in the world…” Beau said to whoever was listening. It was quiet and barely audible. He was still hiding himself.

There was a third hand petting the sheep now. It had to be Tubbo because Beau didn’t notice the shepherd get off of his chair.

“No. I don’t believe it,” Tubbo’s words were kind. Beau hummed his confusion, looking up at Tubbo. He repeated himself, “I don’t believe it.”

Beau was still confused.

“Your hair is the softest thing in the world. I would know.”

Oh. Beau pulled a hand away from the sheep to feel his own hair. He thought for a second. It wasn’t really that soft in his hands but if Tubbo thought so… Oh.

The man in the chair choked on his drink before spitting it out onto the ground. Tubbo and Beau exchanged looks and burst into laughter over the sheep. Beau forgot to check if he was blushing or not.

The two knocked their horns together, which snapped Beau out of the fit. He was happily smiling and petting the black sheep while Tubbo continued to laugh. The shepherd was muttering to himself about something Beau couldn’t care to listen to. Watching Tubbo laugh was too entertaining.

He was bent over, clutching his stomach. If he leaned forward any further, he would fall over into the sheep. Tubbo’s face was red because of how long he was laughing. Looking at the right angle, Beau could see through Tubbo’s hanging bangs and see that his eyes were squeezed shut. That was the only part about this view he didn’t like. He couldn’t see Tubbo’s eyes.

Something fell onto Beau’s arm. It stung as it seeped through his sleeve. He wanted to bring up his claws and gouge it out. It was so itchy. Another drop found itself on Beau’s leg and one more on his head. He hissed in pain. It was getting to be too much.

He noticed that Tubbo was no longer laughing and someone was pulling the sheep off of his lap. He was more focused on convincing himself to keep his hands still than notice was happening around him. That was until someone had grabbed his hands and yelled at him to get up before he melted in the rain.

The person pulled him through a gate, around something, and into a house. The ceilings were so short that Beau had to bend over. The two of them didn’t stop there though. The person led him upstairs where Beau could stand up straight. After another set of doors, they stopped next to a couch. Sitting down was a joint effort of falling and the person pushing him down.

The itching was unbearable. Sure, he had gone through it before, but it had been so long since he had to face it. He had learned how to protect himself from it. Beau had learned how to live without it and now it had come back to fight with him for it.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo. Tubbo was the one who brought him inside from the rain. He was standing in front of Beau with a towel in his hand. He was holding the towel out to him, Beau realized. “Ranboo, can you dry yourself off?”

He shook his head. It hurt too much to move. His skin was on fire. It made no sense to him that he had walked for five days like this, but now, five minutes in, he was paralyzed.

“Can I dry you off? I’ll be gentle.”

He wasn’t watching Tubbo anymore. It was easier to ignore the itching when he focused on the corner of the coffee table in front of him. He nodded anyway.
Beau noticed that Tubbo wasn’t doing anything. He turned his head to look up at him to ask what was wrong. Yet, he still couldn’t form any words.

“I… Uh… I need you to take your shirt off.”

Without truly processing the words, Beau reached for the hem of his shirt. He swallowed, hoping to resist the urge to pick out his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his shirt over his head. Luckily his fingers never grazed his skin.

The towel Tubbo used was almost as soft as the sheep and was definitely softer than his hair, according to Beau. As soon as Tubbo was done, he was talking to Beau again, “Is there anything else you need?”

He nodded and managed to explain what he needed, “Healing potion…”

Tubbo nodded and hurried away quickly.

Beau was already feeling better. With the water gone, his skin wouldn’t worsen. Yet, the sting was still there and Beau very much wanted to scratch at it. Tubbo shouldn’t have left him alone.

He wasn’t going to let Tubbo come back to a blood show. He didn’t care how hard it was to fight the itch or how tiring it was becoming. It didn’t matter if Tubbo would be coming back with a potion of healing either. Right now the mission was to keep the couch clean and that meant sitting still.

Beau threw his head back in frustration and sat on his twitching hands. He wouldn’t let it happen.

“Ranboo! I’m back!” Beau could hear Tubbo’s hurried footsteps. Such loud feet from such a tiny person. “Please tell me you’re still intact.”

Beau gave him a frustrated nod and thrust out his hand, waiting for the potion bottle. Once the cool glass met his hand, Beau opened it and threw it back. He took the bottle away from his lips with the taste of watermelon still on them. Only then did he realize he asked for the wrong potion. The healing potion would take a while to set in, while regeneration would have given him instant relief. Beau wouldn’t ask for it now. He was already burdening Tubbo and his couch.

“Do you want me to get you some food?”

Another shake of Beau’s head. His fingers shook from the itching. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

Tubbo nodded and sat down next to Beau. The enderman barely noticed how close he was, just brushing up against his arm. “Is it always this bad?”

Beau didn’t know what “it” Tubbo was referring to, so he answered for both possibilities. “No. The itching didn’t bother me that much before, but it’s been so long since it’s happened that everything feels so much worse. It’s never… uh, made me want to do anything before.”

Tubbo nodded, contemplating what was just said. There was so much nodding and shaking heads today. Neither of them were able to form their words well enough it seemed. It was awkward with nothing being said between them.

Beau lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head just as Tubbo reached across him to smack it out its path.

“Don’t do that! You always wince when you do, like you’re opening an old wound.”

“Oh…” Beau’s hand fell into his lap. “I think you caught onto that faster than I did.”

“Come here.” Tubbo shifted himself perpendicular to Beau but was still facing him. His arms were open wide in an invitation.

Beau bent over his feet uncomfortably to take off his boots before getting them on the couch. He fell into Tubbo more than anything else. They were both lying down. Tubbo was on his back underneath Beau, hands already in his black and white hair. Beau was lying on his stomach. He was resting his head on Tubbo’s chest, face turned to examine the back of the golden couch rather than the rest of the room. Tubbo’s shirt felt nice against the rash on his cheek.

Beau finally gave into scratching, shamelessly rubbing his face against Tubbo’s shirt to do the job for him. Tubbo’s hands stopped their petting and stilled Beau’s head.

“You’re going to poke my eye out, big man.”

“Sorry,” Beau apologized. “It still itches.”

“The healing potion will kick in soon. I won’t leave until it does.”

Beau sank deeper into Tubbo’s comfort. “Thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable quiet as Tubbo continued to stroke Beau’s hair and Beau started to count the diamond shapes in the couch’s pattern. Tubbo was the first to break the blanket that had fallen over them.

“Ranboo… You haven’t known many people. Have you?” The question was soft, contemplative, and almost… guilty.

Beau almost shook his head but stopped himself. “No. I don’t really know anyone. I forgot most of them. Honestly, I’m not really sure I know anyone. The people who found me in the woods were kind. They helped me get better and taught me things I never thought I’d need until I found L'Manberg.” Beau grabbed a fistful of Tubbo’s shirt to pull him as close as he could. “But it wasn’t home. That’s why I left.”

“You don’t- Do you…” Tubbo stumbled over words and paused to what Beau believed was to organize them. “Do you think L'Manberg could be home?”

The question took Beau aback for a moment. He wasn’t expecting a question like that- or a question at all.

He hadn’t gotten to know the town or its people well. Yes, he explored the town often, but he never went inside the shops and introduced himself to the people. They were too much for him most of the time.

Tubbo chuckled.

But when it came to Tubbo, he knew it would be worth staying. Out of all the people he'd met the past three weeks, Tubbo was the best of them. He never failed to brighten Beau’s day and Beau hoped that he had at least some similar effect to Tubbo’s. It wouldn’t be fair if Tubbo did so much for Beau and he couldn’t do anything in return-

Something had changed with Tubbo. Underneath Beau, he felt different. Beau looked up at Tubbo to see his face red. Beau would have thought he was blushing, but it looked a lot messier than that.

“You always brighten my day, Ranboo.” His fingers left Beau’s hair to brush over his dark cheek. Beau could tell that Tubbo was looking into his eyes through his curtain of hair, but as always, it didn’t force him to stay. He was halfway to taking Tubbo’s hand in his own when the other broke the silence. “I need to get up now.”

Beau scrambled out of Tubbo’s lap to the opposite end of the couch again. Wordlessly, Tubbo sprung up from his seat and nearly ran out of the room. Beau sat there alone with nothing to do, listening to the sound of rain on the roof. As soon as it ended, he pulled on his boots and found his shirt lying to dry next to the fireplace.

“Goodbye Tubbo!”

After a moment with no answer, Beau followed the stairs down to the first floor and made his way back to the tavern, where he’d still be alone but at least he’d be in a space that was almost his.

Chapter Text

There was no denying that Beau had gotten sluggish over the past few days. His eyes had gotten heavier and his movements were slower. Beau could manage to stay awake for a few more though. After that, however, he’d need to figure out something fast. Maybe there was a nice dry cave a decent walk from here. There he could sleep without the worry of hurting anyone while he would be unconscious. In all honesty, Beau was surprised he had stayed awake for this long. He had dedicated some of his time to learn more about endermen, but he couldn’t remember if he had found anything about their sleep patterns. Part of him thought his was normal. The other part hoped he was right.

Despite all of this, helping Foolish was still a priority for him. The golem was repairing village roofs from all of the winter damage now that some of the snow had melted. With no proper occupation in L'Manberg, Beau decided that helping where he could would be how he gave back to the community. Perfectly enough, while Foolish was taller than Beau, it was still dangerous for him to keep all of his tools on the roof with him as well as tedious to climb up and down the ladder every time he needed something different. That was where Beau came in. It was his job to be climbing back and forth to get Foolish what he needed. He was a tool runner of sorts.

At the moment, Beau was sitting on the ladder, talking to Foolish about the change in seasons. The sun was shining above them, something odd in L'Manberg that neither of them had seen since the day Beau arrived in town. He was excited to watch the world change around him, seeing as he forgot all of his years before.

He wore a new flower crown he didn’t remember making. Although he did remember his first one dying very well. This crown was made of small white flowers that Beau had never seen before. He had no idea where they grew or how he came across them, but setting eyes on the crown made him smile regardless, and the weight on his head was just as comforting as ever.

“Ranboo, can you hand me the plank?” Foolish looked up from being hunched over the roofing. Beau nodded as he climbed down from the ladder and picked up a board. Before he climbed back up the steps, Foolish spoke up again. “Is your name really Ranboo? I know that’s what Tubbo calls you, but you seem to refer to yourself as something else.”

Beau stopped at the bottom step, staring up at Foolish. That question came out of nowhere. There was no way he was expecting it. And how did Foolish even know that his name wasn’t Ranboo? “What?”

“You talk to yourself sometimes. I don’t mean to listen in but it gets quiet and you’re the only one talking.”

“Oh…” Beau climbed the ladder and handed Foolish the plank. He sat on the edge of the roof, looking over the adjacent building to the town square. “But yeah. You’re right. My name is Beauregard. You can call me Beau.”

“And he calls you Ranboo?” Foolish readjusted his shark hood while he watched Beau nod. “He’s not supposed to do that…”

“I don’t mind it. It’s just a nickname.”

Foolish was silent after that. He didn’t speak again unless he needed something and he avoided Beau’s gaze as much as he could. Guilt for not knowing what he did built up inside Beau. Was Foolish mad at Tubbo for giving him a nickname? Was he mad at Beau for not sticking up for himself? He didn’t mind the name at all. It felt right coming from Tubbo. It felt like… he didn’t know what else it felt like.

As if it were summoned, Beau’s name sounded from down the street. He scooted his way to the edge of the roof and found Tubbo staring up at him. Normally the mayor was sporting a scheming grin that Beau would never be able to trace the actual intent of. Today, however, there was no grin. In fact, from a distance, Beau could almost make out a frown. That certainly wasn’t good. So Beau climbed down the ladder to meet Tubbo face to face.

“What is it Tubbo?”

He watched the other intently as Tubbo forced his gaze away from Beau and towards the ground. Tubbo almost ran a hand through his hair, catching himself last second as he realized that it would pull his hair back from his face. Instead, he decided to scratch at his swirling scar. He was acting a lot like Beau did when he was nervous about something. When Tubbo finally looked up, he looked past Beau.

“Do you want to go on a walk?”

Beau turned around to find Foolish, seemingly minding his own business on the roof. Then he understood that Tubbo wanted them to have their privacy. He nodded and started walking towards the forest. Tubbo quickly caught up and fell ahead of Beau, faster than normal- probably because of what Beau thought was nerves. Beau couldn’t deny that he was picking up some of his negative emotions but tried to shove them down in order to help the mayor with his own. He hoped it was working.

“Tubbo?”

He skidded to a halt, looked over his shoulder, and started up again.

A moment later, Beau asked again. “Tubbo, what’s wrong?”

“Just a little further out, boss man.”

Beau looked around to find nothing but leafless trees and sticks crunching under their feet. They were far enough from town that he wasn’t entirely sure if he could find his way back. They were definitely deep in the forest to have a private conversation.

“Tubbo, what’s going on?” When Tubbo didn’t answer this time, Beau quickened his pace to catch up with him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Tubbo jumped at the contact and Beau pulled back. He still got an answer, however, as Tubbo turned around to face him.

“They don’t like you, Ranboo.”

“Wha- what?” The villagers didn’t like him. They didn’t want him in their town. He’d have to leave L'Manberg before Foolish thought he was a pushover and Jack thought he was a monster and didn’t want to host him anymore. It was only a matter of time before he fell asleep and killed everyone anyway. Beau guessed it was best for him to be exiled before he did any damage.

“They think you’re going to do more harm than good…” Tubbo was shaking now, just like Beau. “I don’t want you to leave, Ranboo. But they want you to. I want you to stay. I want them to want you to stay-”

Tubbo cut himself off to look up from the ground. As soon as he faced Beau, Beau looked away.

Of course, it didn’t work out. Of course, people in L'Manberg thought he was dangerous. Of course, he was a monster and a threat and some walking nightmare that all the mothers hid their children from. Once he fell asleep he was going to kill all of them. There was no stopping it. It practically already happened. He was a monster- a monster- and gross and disgusting and an ender plague in this world. He didn’t deserve Tubbo’s affection, or Foolish’s concern, or Jack’s cheerful greetings in the morning. Sooner or later he was destined to destroy it all but somehow he’d already done it. He ruined his own future before he even knew it was there.

His face burned before he realized why. “Tubbo?”

Tubbo was going to say it. He was going to ask Beau to leave and never come back. And of course, Beau would leave. Would he even have another choice?

“No, no, no, no, no- Ranboo…” Tubbo was standing over him now. He didn’t remember falling, but now he was on his knees. For once, he was shorter than Tubbo. He didn’t have the energy to acknowledge it.

“I don’t want you to leave, Boo. I want you to stay. I really really really want you to stay.” Tubbo pulled down his sleeve to wipe Beau’s face.

He was crying, he realized. That’s why his cheeks itched and he felt like a mess inside and out. His legs itched too from the wet ground. Instead of standing back up and figuring himself out, he wrapped his arms around Tubbo. Beau wasn’t entirely sure what made him decide to do it, but he was sighed in relief once Tubbo relaxed and finally hugged him back.

“I’m sorry I told you all of those awful things first.” Tubbo rested his chin in between Beau’s horns. Beau could feel Tubbo’s breath on his hair. “I have a plan. You’re going to say in L'Manberg.”

Beau nodded his head and pulled Tubbo in tighter. He never wanted to let go.

Chapter Text

From beyond a place he could reach, someone was calling him. He wasn’t sure of where he was or how he got here; only that he was here. Colors surrounded him, but no detailed shapes could be made of any of it. The sound was so distant from him like it had been muffled by a wall. He had no idea if it were a cry or a coherent thought. It kept repeating itself, short and sweet, calming and relaxing, over and over.

Something touched him. He flinched, drawing the afflicted arm closer to him. The word was clearer now. It was clear enough for him to recognize that it was one word at the least. He blinked away the cloudiness of his vision to see that it was coming from below him. Tubbo was calling Beau’s name.

Tubbo was underneath him, tucked up in blankets and arms reached out to Beau. The touch from before was Tubbo. He had taken his hand away when Beau jumped at it. His hair was a mess and his eyes peeked through his shaggy brown tufts of hair.

Beau quickly forced his eyes away before he got caught in Tubbo’s.

The room he was in wasn’t familiar to him. While he had just moved out of the tavern, he had spent enough time in his new room to know that this was not it. Unless he had crossed into some mirror realm, this room was a reflection of his own. Almost like it was across the hall like… like Tubbo’s room…

Oh, no. Oh, End no. No, no, no, no, no. That couldn’t have happened. That was impossible. That was dangerous.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo softly called out again.

Beau nodded in response, looking across that room to try and prove to himself that he did not just do that. In defeat, he took a deep breath and looked back down at Tubbo. “I know where I am.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Beau nodded once more.

“Can I check to make sure you’re okay?”

Another nod.

He felt a weight lift from his head as Tubbo shifted underneath him. He had taken off his flower crown and was now setting it on the table beside the bed- the bed that both of them were in. Tubbo sat up to look Beau up and down for scratches. Beau stayed on his hands and knees, still in shock from what he just accomplished- something he shouldn’t of.

To make Beau’s new status seem more legitimate to the people who lived in L'Manberg, Tubbo had convinced him to move in. Beau of course didn’t stay directly with Tubbo, but in the room across the hall- the room across the hall that Tubbo had locked him in the hopes that Beau could get some decent shut-eye tonight. And just as predictably as ever, Beau didn’t plan to get any sleep. However, he supposed he passed out from exhaustion at his desk.

Beau had never fallen asleep in L'Manberg before. So, the locks that Tubbo had placed in Jack’s hotel went untested. The similar locks that tried to hold Beau in tonight clearly did not work.

Somehow, unlike the chicken, Tubbo remained unharmed. Somehow, Beau had held himself back in his feral state enough to not cause any true damage. Somehow, Tubbo wasn’t mad at him. Somehow, he was more concerned with the idea of Beau hurting himself while he was sleepwalking. Somehow… somehow…

Somehow Tubbo was dragging Beau under the covers with him.

“Move your giant legs so I can fit you under here.”

Any motion of his own accord still eluded Beau, but he managed to pull his knees to his chest with the help of Tubbo’s encouragement. Soon enough Tubbo had one arm wrapped around Beau’s waist, pulling him in further, and another under his head and playing with his hair.

“I once knew someone who sleptwalked all the time- Well I still know him. He just doesn’t know me as well anymore. They weren’t doing anything bad when they walked. He was just looking for comfort. He never got any when he was awake so they were always looking for it when he was asleep.”

Tubbo gently moved his arm acting as Beau’s pillow before continuing with his story.

Beau didn’t understand the significance of it, other than to tell Beau he wasn’t alone in causing mayhem when he slept. He supposed it was comforting, especially now that his eyes were once again falling too heavy to keep open.

“The thing was that he was really vul-ner-able when he was asleep so his instincts would take over. Those who showed him comfort were safe because that was what he needed when he was asleep. But if anyone or any animals hurt him in his sleep, he’d fight back. That’s why we don’t have any free-range chickens anymore. He used to walk about town and run into the chickens when they were asleep.”

“What happened to him?” Beau mumbled through his drowsiness.

“Well, we grew apart. We were really close until one day he just…” Tubbo's voice faded out as Beau became more aware of his surroundings.

He was lying down next to Tubbo with Tubbo’s arm around his waist and hand in his hair, in Tubbo’s bed. This wasn’t part of the plan. No, Beau got his own room for a reason.

“Tubbo…” Beau couldn’t get the words out.

“Did you forget what happened, boss man?” His words were sleepy. Obviously, Beau had woken him up for a second time. Still, his fingers managed to scrunch up a fistful of Beau’s hair in a sad attempt to pet him again. “You enderwalked in here. You can stay. You obviously wanted to.”

“But-“ he argued just before Tubbo cut him off again.

“Shhh…” His hand left Beau’s hair to weakly splay across Beau’s jaw, effectively shutting him up. “You were seeking comfort. It’s fine. I don’t marry just anyone.”

Of course, Tubbo wouldn’t marry just anyone. Beau would be concerned if he did. They married so Beau could stay in L'Manberg. The status of being the mayor’s husband would make him nearly untouchable. Naturally, Beau would have to feed into the role and help Tubbo out with the job, but that was worth it because it meant Beau could stay. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye to the one person who made him smile.

Beau gently freed himself from Tubbo’s hold to turn around and face him. He would’ve said the words he’d finally put together, that platonic husbands didn’t hold each other as they fell asleep when there were two perfectly good bedrooms, but Tubbo was already sleeping again.

The picture in front of Beau took all of his words away. He could tell Tubbo was asleep simply by how at peace he looked. His fringe had fallen all on one side of his face, leaving the entirety of his scar uncovered. His cheek was squished against the arm he was using as a pillow.

Before Beau knew it, he was purring again. As if on instinct, Tubbo stirred and fell more into Beau. Beau froze, worrying he might wake up Tubbo for the third time. After a moment of silence, Beau relaxed. Tubbo had rolled into his chest and grabbed a fistful of Beau’s shirt as if he was afraid Beau would simply fade away. Beau carefully wrapped his arms around Tubbo and placed his chin between his horns just like Tubbo had done to him earlier.

With this, Tubbo mumbled something in his sleep that Beau couldn’t quite make out. Yet, it was something about bees and his love of them. The action made Beau chuckle to himself nonetheless.

There was something about holding Tubbo in his arms that felt familiar. Every touch they shared screamed at Beau in a way he couldn’t translate. Regardless, Tubbo was already his home. It didn’t matter if he was in L'Manberg or living in a cabin full of wither skulls. Beau knew he would find peace with him just about anywhere. After months of not knowing who he was before he woke up in a forest alone and forgotten to even himself, Beau didn’t really care about it at all. His past didn’t matter when his future was just in reach. It was Tubbo, after all. Even if Tubbo wasn’t his past either, it didn’t matter. Tubbo made Beau happy and that was good enough.

Maybe Tubbo was right and Beau would be okay if he closed his eyes. He had already done so earlier and hadn’t harmed a soul. If things went south, he knew that Tubbo would bring him out of the enderwalk before he would even have the chance to walk out the door. Yes, he could sleep here. Next to Tubbo, he was safe.

With one last moment of clarity, Beau pulled Tubbo closer to him, relishing in his touch. His purring vibrated through the bed, but Tubbo didn’t seem to care. It was just them two in the house until the sun rose. Even then, Cynthia wouldn’t dare wake up Tubbo in fear of the tiny wrath he’d bring upon her. They were effectively alone.

In a cloud of sleepy thoughts before unconsciousness pulled him under to the rest he deserved, Beau shifted in the bed one last time, placing a kiss right between Tubbo’s horns, not even knowing what it meant or how hard he had worked to do it again.

There was no chance that Beau heard what Tubbo muttered in his sleep next.

“I missed you, Ranboo.”

Chapter Text

The bed underneath him shifting was what woke Beau up. First, he noticed that the room was still dark. No candles had been lit and the sun was still hiding from the moon. What he noticed next was that Tubbo was the one moving the bed. Tubbo loved to sleep in and get after Cynthia for waking him up every time she dared… And he was getting out of bed before dawn?

Blinking, Beau saw Jack in the doorway with a candle in his hand, intently watching Beau wake up. His gaze quickly turned away to the floor when it became apparent Beau caught him. What was going on?

Jack lifted his eyes from the ground to turn and look at Tubbo who had now pulled his shoes on. “We found it.”

Tubbo nodded and pulled his jacket off of a pile of blueprints he must have thrown on top of earlier. He quickly threw it on, fumbling with the buttons. Beau wanted to get up to help his husband with his coat, but he was cozy in bed and Tubbo hadn’t noticed he was awake yet. “Get them ready.”

“Tubbo?” The name was barely audible to himself. Beau doubted that Tubbo had heard it. He shut his eyes and curled in on himself when he heard footsteps walking toward the bed. He felt something on top of his head as someone pulled the blankets up over him and brushed the hair out of his face.

“Go back to sleep, Boo. I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Tubbo pulled away from him and Beau hated it. “I know it might be hard, but try to sleep while I’m gone.”

“No…” Beau whined and turned himself over. He caught a glance at an empty doorway and then back to Tubbo’s now buttoned winter jacket. Jack was gone. “I can help. The deal was that I’d help. I can help.”

He moved to rub the sleep out of his until Tubbo caught his hands.

“I know we agreed on that and I know you can help. But this is something I have to do myself, Beauregard.” He brought his hand up to Beau’s face and stroked his cheek with his thumb. It comforted Beau enough for him to close his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it over dinner tonight. I won’t hide anything then.”

Beau nodded in Tubbo’s hands, trying not to fall back asleep while his husband was still there. He started mumbling, “We need to talk.”

He could feel Tubbo brushing away the hair in Beau’s face and pressing his lips to his forehead. He caught Beau’s chin and tilted it up for him to open his eyes and look directly into his. Even in the low light, the colors were still dancing in front of him. Beau could watch them for hours. And he would, as soon as Tubbo was back in his arms.

Realizing that he had just involuntarily caught Beau’s attention, Tubbo shoved his hair back into his face. “How’s that for a talk?”

Beau turned purple as Tubbo kissed him again, this time on the nose. He shoved his face into his pillow before Tubbo could get a good look and tease him. He repeated himself, although there was no way for Tubbo to make out what he had said. Tubbo whispered one more goodbye and left the room before Beau lifted his head again.

Knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, Beau didn’t even try. He waited until he heard Jack and Tubbo walk down the stairs to at least give Tubbo the idea that he tried to get more sleep. After the front door shut rather abruptly and loudly, Beau got out of bed, pulled the blankets together, and grabbed his crown before leaving Tubbo’s room with the door shut behind him.

Looking at his flower crown after last night’s events, he could tell he had fallen asleep in it. One side of it was nothing but crushed flowers and the crown itself had been bent into an odd oval shape that wouldn’t match his head. Later, he would go out and get some new flowers for another crown. As much as he loved this one, it was time for something new. Maybe one day, he’d make something permanent for himself, seeing as now he couldn’t be comfortable without it.

Lazily, Beau hung it on the end of the banister and found his way to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the cabinets were empty of anything he didn’t have to cook. He realized that he had lost all sense of cooking with the rest of his memories. He found himself disappointed by it, to say the least, leading him to think it was something he really enjoyed beforehand. After eight minutes of painful searching, he found bread in the cabinet above the furnace.

So with that, Beau had a slice of bread for breakfast. It wasn’t bad and it wasn’t the greatest thing ever. If it weren’t for Jack showing up at Tubbo’s door just now, he and Beau would still be in bed, and hours from now, they would be making the pancakes that Tubbo was so excited for. Apparently, that would have to wait another day.

He sat on the floor in the quiet house, waiting for something that was never going to come. Beau was alone in the house after all. Maybe he could get a pet. There were plenty of wolves wandering the tundra he could tame. Maybe he’d even find a stray cat to adopt in the village. No, this was just a one-time thing. After Tubbo took care of this, he’d be included. Nevertheless, he felt alone. He was alone after all.

After hours of milling about, going over his memory book, and even polishing his unused armor for yet another unnecessary time, Beau thought of what he could do outside. From Tubbo’s living room, he found himself looking through the window and wondering where Tubbo may have gone.

Out there, in the town square, Tubbo was ordering people around. Everyone seemed to be there; everyone except Beau. Tubbo had said that he wanted to take care of this on his own, but in reality, he had just wanted to do it without Beau. That was fine. Beau could understand. It was fine that Tubbo still wanted to do some things himself even though he agreed Beau could help. It was nothing, right?

Beau shut the curtain before he walked away from the window. For the rest of the day, he was in his room, boring himself with every minuscule task he could find. At least it was something to do.

Tubbo came back home at sunset. He came by Beau’s room to find him.

It was obvious that he had a long day. His hair was plastered to his face by rain that Beau had failed to notice. He had pushed his bangs back in a desperate attempt to see, however, it stood up around his horns and made him look ridiculous. His jacket was soaked and his pants weren’t better off. Each step he took was heavy with exhaustion.

When Tubbo stood there silently for a long moment, Beau spoke up for the both of them. “Tubbo, have you eaten anything today?”

He quietly shook his head.

“Tell me you at least drank water.” The continued silence was answer enough. “Why don’t you dry off and I’ll figure something out.”

Moments later Beau found himself staring at the furnace in the kitchen trying to figure out what in the End he could make for Tubbo, who hadn’t eaten anything at all that day. Empty of ideas, he stepped back to carefully pour him a glass of water. He was stressed that his husband hadn’t taken care of himself at all and accidentally splashed some water on his hand. Beau quickly dried it off and ignored the sting. Tubbo needed something to eat.

There was bread in the cupboard that Beau quickly pulled out. If he couldn’t use the furnace, he could certainly make a sandwich.

The sandwich he made was very sad.

Tubbo eventually made his way to the kitchen in dry clothes and messy hair, clearly toweled dry. Despite the quick attempt to do so, it was obvious that he had put effort into pulling his bangs in front of his eyes. He sat down at the table and immediately started eating from the plate in front of him. Already life was filling him up again. He had truly needed that food.

Beau sat down next to him at the table. He could be eating something right now as well, but he was more concerned with Tubbo. Seeing that he hadn’t yet taken notice of the water he set down for him, Beau nudged it his way. Tubbo set down his sandwich in favor of chugging the water.

“No! Not too fast or you’ll be sick,” Beau pried the glass from his lips and miraculously stayed dry while doing so.

“I promised to tell you what was going on.” Beau could tell that Tubbo was watching him through his sheet of hair. However, eye contact was easy to ignore.

Beau shook his head. “I want to talk about last night first.”

Tubbo nodded and gazed down at his plate. He tapped his fingers against the table. Beau could hear his foot keeping the rhythm underneath as well. “Well, you’re my husband.”

“We married platonically so I could stay in town.” He pulled his legs up so his feet were on the edge of the chair and his knees were against his chest. Beau felt small but safe. He was nervous about what Tubbo would say. They did marry platonically. However, if Beau was being honest he didn’t want it to stay platonic… at all. Yes, Tubbo kissing him on the forehead made him feel like the whole world revolved around him. And the kiss on the nose? Beau had wished it was just a little lower all day.

“Then you’re my beloved,” Tubbo barely choked out the words. When he finished, he stared defeated at his half-eaten sandwich.

Beau didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand what it meant, so he asked. Beloved was never a word he had heard before and it was definitely a word that Techno didn’t teach him. He wondered how it was spelled; at least how Tubbo would spell it.

“It means I want to ki-“

A deafening shout came from outside. He’d heard it before, way out in the middle of the tundra. Where he was fed, healed, and taught. That wasn’t right. They shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening. It wasn’t right.

He stood up from his chair to look through the window, leaving Tubbo alone at the table. Pushing back the curtain, there it was; The impossible.

“How-” Beau tried to force the words off of his tongue but the air was trapped in his lungs.

“Oh… um…” Tubbo set down his sandwich and joined Beau at the window. “That’s what I was doing today. The anarchists have threatened L’Manberg’s well-being for a while now. Some men finally found them. They’re going to be executed for their crimes.”

“That- that’s what you were going to talk to me about?”

Beau turned his head to quickly see Tubbo nodding his head his sandwich as if he was refusing to see what was out the window.

“Threats are a crime?” That hardly seemed fair. Either way, there was no way Tubbo would successfully execute them. “Tubbo, they’re gods!”

Tubbo turned away from Beau, refusing to meet his eyes. He turned around to what Beau thought would be to eat his food, but instead, he passed the table and headed towards the door. Beau didn’t want their conversation to be over.

“You can’t kill gods!” he yelled after his husband.

Tubbo stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. His mouth was forced into a frown. Oh End, Beau wished he could see his eyes, too. Beau couldn’t tell if tubbo was angry or sad or worse. His eyes would hold all the emotion. Beau wished he could be caught in them right now.

Tubbo replied to him quietly, almost not to Beau but himself, “No, but you can kill villains.”

When Tubbo turned around, so did Beau. He returned to the window sill to see that Phil and Techno were already gone from the square, dragged somewhere else in L’Manberg in the chains forced on them.

That night the half-eaten sandwich went into the trash, the forgotten flower crown was left on the banister, and the enderman went to his room, rather than his husband’s. He wished he could sleep all of his pain away, but he knew all too well that the pain would just follow him into his dreams to chase him into chaos.

So, he stayed up. He stayed up staring out the window, at the ceiling, and at his memory journal debating whether or not he should write these horrors down to remind himself every time he looked at the journal. Avoiding it led him to flip back through the pages. He found a day he had forgotten. It was full of sheep and rain and the flowers hanging ruined on the banister, where he and Tubbo had gone back to his house to treat Beau’s burns. There they laid together on the couch until Tubbo left crying, seemingly remembering something Beau didn’t.

He didn’t want to read about Tubbo. Beau kept flipping to the beginning of the book where something caught his eye. Something that could be the end of him if he didn’t find it now. Before he had left the cabin, Techno had given him a compass as a parting gift- a compass home.

Oh, End.

He killed Phil and Techno.

Chapter Text

Beau couldn’t find his compass. He patted down his pockets. It wasn’t in his empty dressers or his barren closet. The trunk filled with gifts from Techno was missing only one- the one that led him to the cabin. Under his pillow, in his desk, none of his floorboards creaked when he stepped on them and the ceiling was too well built to find holes in. He flipped through his memory book once, twice, a third time. Never did he mention where he had placed the compass. Beau shoved his hands into his jacket and trousers. The pockets were empty.

He was only left to assume one thing.

Even though he was mad at Tubbo, Beau didn’t want to blame him for something that meant so much to him. It was possible that he had dropped it on his journey to L’Manberg or even forgot it in his room at Jack’s. He had certainly been good at forgetting things. The dead flower crown on the banister only passed through his mind for a second.

This was something he needed to know. He hated asking the question.

Tubbo’s bedroom door was closed. Beau knocked. No one answered.

It was easy to question how L’Manberg found Techno and Philza. Their cabin was in the middle of nowhere with no landmarks to track your whereabouts. It took Beau days to find any sign of civilization and finding tracks in the snow proved near impossible in the windy tundra.

But if someone had a compass…

Downstairs, light spilled into the hallway. Beau could see that the office door was open. At least he knew where Tubbo was. Now, all he had to do was build up the courage to ask him.

He spent about a minute outside in the hallway listening to Tubbo shuffle posters around. His husband was working. Beau was talking himself up to confront him for the second time tonight.

Was he a bad husband?- No. Now was not the time to doubt himself. He was trying to clear his name, so he could dirty it later.

Tubbo wouldn’t hate him, he tried to convince himself. It was just a question. Tubbo wouldn’t think anything of it. The worst that could happen was that he says yes.

Beau knocked on the door frame to grab Tubbo’s attention. “T-Tub…” End, he hated that he hated this. He wished it was over already.“Tubbo?”

He looked up from his desk almost immediately, giving Beau his full and undivided attention. They stayed in silence for a moment before they both opened their mouths to speak. Neither could make out what the other had said. So, they sat in silence again, Beau staring at the floorboards by his feet.

“You go first,” Tubbo spoke up again.

Beau kept his eyes on the floor and shook his head.

“Okay… I’ll go first.” Beau could hear Tubbo’s chair scrapping and shoes scuffing the floor. Soon enough, Tubbo was gently holding onto Beau’s arms, hands sliding down to intertwine their fingers. “I’m sorry I got snappy with you earlier. You didn’t deserve it. I now know that they were the ones who took you in before you came back to L’Manberg. I know that they mean a lot to you. Unfortunately, I’m in a situation where I can’t change their sentence, Ranboo. I would if I could. I can tell you that.”

Beau glanced up to Tubbo briefly before letting his eyes fall down again and nodding. He was too full of emotions to realize that he never told Tubbo specifically that it was an accident that Phil and Techno brought him back from. All he ever told Tubbo was that they had helped him. And he certainly didn’t notice that Tubbo said “back.”

“Did… did you take my compass?” The question was soft enough for him to be afraid he would have to repeat it again.

“Your what?” Tubbo leaned forward and tilted his head up to peer up at Beau’s face. Thankfully, his eyes stayed hidden behind his curtain of hair. “I didn’t know you had a compass, Ranboo.”

Beau nodded for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I had one that led to Phil and Techno’s. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if I found out it was used to hurt them… and I can’t find it…”

“Boo…” Tubbo cooed his name soothingly. He pulled Beau’s hands close to his chest, above his heart. “I didn’t know you had a compass and I’ve never gone through any of your things. I’ve only ever taken a sweater you left on the couch. And you’re not getting that back, boss man. It’s waaaay too comfy.”

The lighthearted quip drew a bittersweet laugh out of Beau, who could feel Tubbo physically relax after his reaction. A smile grew on Beau’s face. He couldn’t decide if it was fake or not.

“Can you bend down some more? I can’t reach you from down here.”

Confused as ever, but successfully distracted, Beau bent over so his face could reach Tubbo’s. Before he could process what had happened, Tubbo had his hands in Beau’s hair and had kissed him on the nose, making Beau blush a deep purple.

“Do you think Jack could have used it?”

Tubbo shook his head. “He would have told me if he found something like that. Was it even labeled? If not it would have just been some random compass no one would pay mind to.”

Beau shook his head, gently falling onto his knees so he could lean into Tubbo’s hands in his hair. The compass had to be somewhere. It couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air. He had to find it to know if he was really guilty of his… friends? Could he call them friends?

Either way, Beau couldn’t live with the idea of being responsible for their deaths. He wouldn’t let it happen. Beau just didn’t know how he would.

“Ranboo, I think you should get some sleep. We can look for it in the morning.” Tubbo pulled away from Beau and shuffled a few things on his desk together. “I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Going to sleep meant that he’d wake up in the morning to Phil’s death and Techno’s hanging. He wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye or time to make some sort of plan. “No. No, I need to see them.”

Tubbo sighed. “That isn’t a good idea, Beau… They’re… I don’t know how they’d react. I don’t want you to get hurt again-”

He cut himself off then, drawing attention to the work he wished he hadn’t said.

Beau already knew what the word was. “Again?”

Tubbo froze at the question, staring out the window at seemingly nothing. The only thing out there was trees. Beau stood up and set a hand on his husband’s shoulders to bring him back into reality. Quickly, Tubbo blinked away his thoughts and turned away from Beau.

“It rains too much in L’Manberg.”

The words were quiet, distant. The day Beau read about in his memory book flickered into his thoughts quickly before he shook them away. They had got caught in the rain and Beau had an allergic reaction. He was an enderman, so things like that happened. He didn’t understand why Tubbo was so shaken about it.

“Tubbo,” he called out to him. “Please let me say goodbye.” Please let me find a way to save them.

“Okay…” he sighed. “I’ll go with you.”
“No. It has to be just me.” Beau immediately pulled back from the sharp works, regretting them almost instantly. He continued in a much quieter tone. “I need to see them alone. You can wait outside.”

Slowly, Tubbo nods. As if he was calculating the risks of letting Beau in alone. “If anything bad happens, I’m coming in.”

Beau nodded, not really listening but heading out the door instead. He only realized he didn’t know where Techno and Philza were being held until Tubbo held him back with a hand on his arm.

“I mean it, Ranboo. If I have any reason to believe you’re in danger, I’m coming in to make sure you’re not.”

Beau looked down at his husband. Tubbo was peering up at him. Worry was written over the visible half of his face. He couldn’t blame him. To Tubbo, someone he cared for was meeting with people he found dangerous. Beau wasn’t sure what he was to Tubbo. They had been ignoring the conversation since their dinner and it certainly wasn’t a topic for now.

So, without another thought of that awkward experience between the two, Beau cupped Tubbo’s head in his hands. They were ridiculously large in comparison, almost as large as Tubbo’s face. Before he could think against it, he pushed Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes so he could see the everchanging swirls of color.

As soon as Tubbo realized what Beau had done, he shifted his eyes to the floor, looking away from him. Beau knew he only did it to be nice. Tubbo knew that endermen got caught in the gaze of others and Beau certainly wasn’t an exception.

He wanted to be caught in them, though. He wanted to be trapped in them forever.

“Of course,” Beau whispered to his husband. Tubbo brought up his hand over Beau’s. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Now wasn’t the right moment. Both of them were filled with emotions of betrayal and their earlier argument. Beau’s friends were about to be killed and Tubbo was the one planning it all. Beau had no idea who he was or if he had people looking for him elsewhere. Tubbo carried an entire village on his back at an age he should only be enjoying life at. Yes, they were married, but it was only for Beau to find a home.

Either way, they were kissing.

Beau didn’t know who made the first move. Tubbo was on his tippy-toes with a fist in Beau’s shirt, pulling him down. That made him think it could have been Tubbo, but Beau was pulling Tubbo closer to him as if he couldn’t get close enough. Tubbo smelled like pine, Beau realized. All this time the two of them had spent next to each other and shared hugs and touches and time, he had never realized that Tubbo smelled of pine.

Something about this felt right, almost familiar, just like an extension of himself. Tubbo’s kiss was something he had missed every day since he had woken up, something he had forgotten.

Tubbo’s unfiltered words rang in his head over and over. I don’t want you to get hurt again. It rains too much in L’Manberg. I don’t want you to get hurt again.

Again.

Again, again, again, again. Again.

Ranboo had found his people.

Not realizing he had frozen still upon this epiphany, Tubbo broke away, curiously gazing up at his husband. Now, Beau was thoroughly caught in his eyes, just like he had wanted before. Beau shook off his thoughts immediately. Yes, he needed to talk to Tubbo about this. One thousand times yes, he needed answers. He needed the truth.
But right now he needed Philza and Techno more.

Slowly, Beau and Tubbo pulled away from each other. Tubbo lingered, holding Beau’s shirt until his husband became too tall for him to do so comfortably. As Tubbo turned around to lead Beau out of town hall and to the dungeons, Beau stayed as close as he could to his husband. Now knowing what Tubbo was to him, he was only missing how.
“We should get going,” Beau suggested. Tubbo nodded and pulled Beau’s hand into his own.

Neither of them said a word on their walk. The silence was a comforting blanket to Beau, giving him a chance to work over what he would say to Techno and Phil. Nothing came to his mind, only the truth that appeared to him moments ago. He went over little moments in his head that he would have noticed earlier if he knew.

Tubbo was so reluctant to call Beau Beauregard. He had been so forward with Beau when he first saw him… again. It had shocked Beau at first, having Tubbo refer to him as cute when they met each other, but to Tubbo, it was just a normal day… except, it wasn’t?

Beau had been gone for weeks. Wouldn’t Tubbo be more excited about him coming home? Wouldn’t he be worried about his health? Wouldn’t he… He knew. Beau had lost years upon years of memories, a whole life’s worth even, but ever since then he’s been missing pockets of time. He would find himself standing in the kitchen, not remembering why he entered it. Sometimes, he wouldn’t know where he was or how he got there, but he eventually found his way home. There was an entire day he can only recall through his journaling.

He hadn’t wanted to face this truth, but there it was, written plainly right below the rest of it. He’s always had these memory issues. Tubbo knew it well and even knew how to handle it. He had lost his entire memory before, there was always the chance that he could lose it again.

Beau’s worst fear could come true.

Now standing outside of the dungeon doors, staring into the dark hallway while Tubbo and the night watch discussed how long Beau would be in there, Beau felt a pit in his stomach. He had learned so much in the past ten minutes.

He was afraid of what Techno and Phil would teach him too.

“Fifteen minutes,” the guard stated in a boredom-filled tone. The volume change made Beau jump. Instead of speaking to Tubbo in a hushed voice, he was now speaking to Beau. “They’re in the last cell on the left.”

“Yeah… yeah. Okay. That’s fine.” Beau nodded frantically, still panicked from his train of thought. He glanced over at Tubbo one last time before heading in, trying to ground himself.

“If you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I’m coming in to look for you.”

The nod Beau gave him was more stable and understanding than the last.

Philza was the first one he found. Unlike the guard told him, the angel wasn’t on the left but straight across from the door Beau had just ducked through. He was laying on a cot and staring up at the ceiling with his black wings spread out across the dusty floor. It was obvious that Techno was in a different cell than him. Beau didn’t care. He was happy to see Phil.

“Phil?” The question was quiet, nervous. Without an answer, Beau sped up his pace and met the bars, reaching through them towards Philza. Beau couldn’t stand the thought of him being hurt. “Phil, are you okay?”

Philza ever so slowly sat up from the cot and made his way towards Beau. His wings were covered in dirt from the ground of the basement. He stopped just out of reach, only an inch between Beau’s outstretched hand and the cloth of Phil’s shirt. Beau let out a distressed enderman sound he would have hidden weeks ago.

He cocked an eyebrow at that, looking Beau up and down. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry about me.” Hw offered Beau a weak smile and his eyes dropped down to the outstretched hand in front of him. “Are you a prisoner of L’Manberg too?”

Beau opened his mouth to answer, to confess all of his wrongdoings and promise that he’d get both of them out of this mess because it was all his fault, but he was cut off by laughter in the cell to the side. Chains rattled in harmony.

“He’s not a prisoner. A prisoner would be in chains… and he certainly wouldn’t be alone.”

Techno was also in his cot, only he wasn’t sitting as still as Philza did. Instead, he was tossing a rock up into the air, only to catch it in his hand and throw it again. With each movement, the chains on his wrist rattled. He caught it in his hand one, two, three, four times without sparing a single look at Beau. On the fifth, Phil huffed and turned back to his cot.

“The compass…” Beau started.

Phil hung his head low and Techno stopped throwing his rock.

“What?” The question was laced with venom. Beau looked away from Techno.

“I-I didn’t give it to them. I lost it. I forgot about it.” Beau could see every speck of dirt on his boots. He’d count them if it meant he’d never have to look angry Techno in the eyes. He heard footsteps that weren’t Philza’s, chains rattling alongside them.

“We trusted you, Beauregard-”

“It was a mistake. You didn’t even know if I’d come back-”

“We were hoping you would!” Beau looked up to see Techno holding himself as closely as he could to Beau, pressed right against the bars. His piglin teeth were on display for all to see. It was mostly a threat, but Beau could see the corners of his lips curl into a deranged smile. Beau was pretty sure it was more animalistic than anything he had ever done. “Clearly, that’s not the case. Don’t lie to us, Ranboo. We know you handed it over.”

Ranboo lit up at the use of the name. “So it is true! I am from L’Manberg!”

“You’re from nowhere and you’re going nowhere but under dirt-”

He whimpered and stepped away from Techno’s cell. Techno taught him all of those words and showed him how to spell them. Those words hurt.

“Technoblade!” Phil’s shout silenced the whole building. He looked up at Ranboo from the brim of his hat. “Beau, did you give them the compass willingly?”

Beau shook his head. “No. Not in a million years.”

“But it’s missing?”

He cringed as he nodded but he told the truth nonetheless. Phil sighed as if he were about to go on a tangent about how Beau needs to be more responsible for his things, but before he even had the chance, and before Beau even had the chance to see Techo’s reaction, the rock he had been playing with earlier hit Beau right in the jaw.

Beau was wrong before, the screech he made of pain was the most enderman-like sound he had ever made. The sound itched his ears and made his entire body stand on edge by instinct. Techno and Philza, however, remained unphased by the blood dripping down onto his shirt. This time, Phil doesn’t yell at Techno, but sits in silence, watching.

“If you really are sorry about the compass,” Technoblade had returned to using his normal, calm, and monotone voice. Somehow it soothed Beau, yet scared him all at once. “Then, prove it to us tomorrow. You’re figuring things out, memory boy. You should know what to do.”

That was nothing but a riddle to Beau, but it was a start.

“Ranboo! Boo! Are you okay?” Tubbo rushed down the stairs.

Beau blinked back the surprise, realizing that his fifteen minutes must have expired. Before he had a chance to answer his husband, he had seen the blood.

“Which one of them did this? I should have them executed for it right now-” Tubbo stopped himself, stuttering. “Wait, no. Sorry. Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

While Beau bent down to show Tubbo that the wound was just minor, his eyes caught on Techno’s. He had never seen eyes so full of rage and betrayal. Beau swallowed. Techno had taught him those words.

“Come on, I’ll take care of it upstairs. Let’s get going.” He offered Beau a small smile he wasn’t sure he could believe.

As Tubbo pulled him upstairs with a hand in his, Beau stayed watching Techno involuntarily. Every second of the flame burned him inside out, but it was impossible for him to move away.

Tomorrow, Beauregard, Ranboo, would have to choose a side. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t choose people. He didn’t understand why everyone could all just get along.

He didn’t understand why he could not have peace.