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"Did I ever tell you how I got my scars?"
Ranboo looks up from his book, glancing toward the person who just spoke. It was Tubbo, leaning against one of the thick wooden posts that held up New L'Manburg. He looks as small as ever, his presidential suit hanging on his frame loosely, ill-fitting and slightly worn. Ranboo shuts his book, slipping it back into his inventory and moving to sit on a post near to Tubbo. "No, you haven't mentioned."
It's intrigued him on more than one occasion, the deep pink webbed scars that covered the right side of the president's face. He'd seen similar scars on his right hand too, and wondered how far it actually spread. Maybe a tragic incident with fire, or a wrong move with a creeper. Those had been his best guesses, though he never actually asked if they were right. His gaze lingered on the side of Tubbo's face he could see, his left side still smooth and soft-looking, cheek rounded with baby fat. He stays silent, waiting for the other boy to speak, afraid if he says anything more he might deter the president from something he seems like he's been aching to talk about.
"It was during Schlatt's reign. I'd been working as a spy for Wilbur while being Schlatt's right hand man. Turns out he knew, caught me offguard. He and Quackity trapped me after my speech during a festival, and he called Technoblade up and made him execute me. Took two shots, even after he stabbed me to try and make it go quicker."
Ranboo has to remind himself to breathe, having stilled completely as he listened to Tubbo tell his story. He'd heard of Technoblade before, but only in passing. By the time he'd come to the server the piglin was nothing more than a memory attached to a crater and a story told in whispers late in the evenings. Quackity he knows much better, as it is right now he's Tubbo's vice president, which seems a little weird with this new knowledge. And Schlatt... well, to him Schlatt was nothing more than a memorial and a pile of bones in a box.
"That's terrible." He finally replies, wringing his hands as he kept his eyes on Tubbo, unsure how much he could say. "D...Does it still hurt?" Ranboo's never died before, not in the way where it counts anyways. He's not sure if it's rude to ask but he's left unsure at what more he can say.
"Sometimes," Tubbo shrugs, turning to look at the enderman hybrid, and Ranboo immediately breaks eye contact and notices that the hair on his right side is slightly shorter, some parts singed at the tips. The ram's small horns peek out a bit more on that side than his left. He wonders just how recently this was, how much time Tubbo's had to heal. "I think it's like a phantom pain though. Hurts when I try and sleep, but I think that might just be me thinking about it too much."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, it sounds horrible." Ranboo feels his heart pang at the sad smile Tubbo gives him in reply, the president only replying with a soft 'it's alright' before walking off down the stilted path. Ranboo watches his small figure get smaller and smaller, and by the time Tubbo's left his vision he's forgotten their conversation completely.
It's the first nice day Ranboo can remember in a while. Tubbo's enlisted him to help with a big project, and he's happy to be of use. It'll be an apiary when they're done, according to the smaller boy. Fancy word for a bee house. Ranboo supposes it deserves a fancy name to match its elegant style. Tubbo's outdone himself, making a beautiful glass ceiling inlaid with wooden support beams. Ranboo follows along, matching the style best he can and humming along to the music blaring from Tubbo's communicator.
It's all Christmas songs, fitting to the season. Tubbo's got on a colorful jumper and is singing along, looking every bit the picture of holiday joy. But Ranboo knows it's not that simple. He's been by the ram hybrid's side almost every day since he had to exile Tommy. He can see the dark circles, and he knows Tubbo's sleep schedule is almost non-existent. His guilt keeps him quiet, it's already a lot for Ranboo to remember that Tommy took all the blame and he's part of why Tubbo had to exile him in the first place. So he makes up for it the only way he can, by keeping the president company until the spot by his side his filled by the right person once again.
At some point things go off the rails a little bit, and Tubbo's decided he's going to make his own verses. All I Want For Christmas Is You is playing, and he's singing loudly over it. Ranboo can't hold back his smile, the original song isn't familiar to him anyways so he's happy to listen to Tubbo's version instead. Tubbo's still placing things, looking the picture of busy but he's still belting out his own lyrics.
"I was shot during a festival, Schlatt realized I was a mole"
Ranboo sputtered with laughter as he turned to give Tubbo an incredulous look, surprised at the lyrics. What was he talking about? Tubbo didn't return the look, still focused on setting up one of the new hives, but he continued singing.
"Big Q stood next to him while Technoblade blew me up with color... I-I dunno I'm just making it up at this point." Tubbo trailed off while Ranboo let out a bark of laughter, taken aback by the visual the lyrics gave him."
"Technoblade blew me up with color!" He repeats, hiding his widened smile with a hand while Tubbo swivels his head to look at him, a playful grin as he admonished Ranboo.
"He literally did!"
"It's such a good line, it's such a good line," Ranboo insists, waiting expectantly for Tubbo to start again. Tubbo's look is a little off now, like he'd expected more of a reaction. When he doesn't get it he keeps going, jumping back in with the song after having missed a few lines.
"All I want for Christmas is L'Manberg."
"Is boom!" Ranboo interjects, Tubbo laughing sheepishly and repeating it in place of his original line. "That was really clever, Tubbo. How did you come up with all that so fast?" The enderman hybrid asked, dropping his leftover wood in a chest and coming over to help Tubbo with the campfire he was setting up under the new hive.
"I mean it's easy, you just have to think about personal experiences and then make them fit the tune."
"Personal experiences? Wait so when you said Technoblade literally blew you up with color..."
"Fireworks. I could've sworn I told you this before, didn't I?"
Ranboo's smile slips off his face, wishing he could look Tubbo in the eyes to tell if he was lying or not. "I... I don't remember that. But maybe you did?" Not for the first time he's pained by his lack of memory, wondering how much Tubbo's confided in him already that he's lost to the void.
"Ehh, it's alright. It was a long time ago now, I'm doing fine." The ram hybrid turns to fully face him and gives Ranboo what he means to be a reassuring smile, but all Ranboo can focus on is the pink mottled scarring that covers half of his president's face, and the fact that he now knows just how it got there. "Ranboo, seriously," he leans forward and grabs Ranboo's arm to grab his attention and the enderman now wonders how long he's been staring. "It's alright. I've got thick skin, after all. Much more on my plate than a couple scars nowadays."
He's left unsure what to say so he just nods in agreeance, and Tubbo seems satisfied. The song ends and a new one starts, and Tubbo hums along.
There's still smoke. The whole area reeks of gunpowder, and for good reason. The remnants of the stuff is just about the only thing left here, after all. L'Manberg is a crater once again, this time one that's beyond salvaging. And Tubbo is right there.
He's sitting on the edge of it, thousands of miles of emptiness just below his feet, but he's not looking down at it. He's staring off in the distance, his hands propping him up behind him as he takes in the emptiness that once was a country. Ranboo's watching him, hands clutched tightly together as he argues with himself on whether he should approach.
Tubbo must hate him. He's been a traitor, even if he didn't remember doing it, Dream had proof by way of his journal. He thought he'd been loyal, been a good citizen. Turns out he was one of the worst. He knows he has somewhere to go now, Phil and Techno offered him to join them in Techno's far away tundra, away from all the stress and drama of the main lands of the server. But that meant saying goodbye to Tubbo, possibly for good. He should at least say farewell, right?
"Come sit, Ranboo."
Tubbo's made the choice for him, it seems. The enderman hybrid starts at the sound of his voice, but follows the instruction, walking up and joining his ex-president on the rim of the crater. He doesn't let his legs dangle like Tubbo does, instead sitting criss-cross, facing out toward the void though he was peeking at the ram instead of taking in the nothingness. He stays quiet, at a loss for words. Tubbo relieves him once again by speaking first.
"What did I do?"
"Hmm?"
"What did I do to deserve this? I've been wracking my brain about it all day, Ranboo. Genuinely, what did I do? I thought I was a good president. I mean, sure, I allowed Quackity to peer pressure me into the whole Butcher Army thing, but an eye for an eye right? Plus the whole destroying the country with Wilbur too, so it's not like it was just one bad thing he'd done. Techno took my second life and I forgave him, I didn't even take any of his and I lose my entire country?"
"He did what?" Ranboo's given up pretending to look anywhere else, his head turned to look directly at Tubbo. He's sat on his scarred side, the large scars a light pink that contrasts against Tubbo's pale skin, but less than he remembers it contrasting before. He knows about the Butcher Army very well, he'd been strung along into it too and it had been a total failure. Quackity ended up losing a life that day instead, and Techno had escaped. He never knew about Techno taking one of Tubbo's lives before, maybe he hadn't been around when it happened.
Tubbo turned to look at him, a wry smile on his face, the boy breaking the eye contact before Ranboo got uncomfortable and instead looking off past Ranboo at the jagged crater edge that expanded for miles. "It was a long time ago, to be fair. Schlatt peer pressured him into it, I guess Quackity kind of did too. I don't think Big Q knew I'd be executed though, when he boxed me in. But then Schlatt called Techno up and - boom." He flourishes his hands, mimicking an explosion and then leans forward a little, letting his hands drop to his lap.
"All I wanted was to keep L'Manberg alive. I built it all again, with my own hands. I made the stilts, I made the walkways. I rebuilt the camar van, a-and the bee dome, and I had a cabinet I actually listened to even when maybe I guess I shouldn't have... I was going to instill L'Manberg's first real democratic election, remember that? I mean we had one before but it was full of fraud. This was going to be legitimate, I was so ready to give up my title to someone who actually wanted it. It was a couple weeks away, guess it's cancelled now."
Ranboo remembers, he'd been taking the minutes to remind himself of the upcoming election when he and Tubbo had first talked about it. He remembers how Tubbo said he'd never wanted any of this, and how he'd supported the enderman's presidential ideals. He never knew the full story of Tubbo getting elected, but he knew he'd kind of been pushed into the role. He'd done amazing, in retrospect, for how little he'd been prepared.
"Maybe... maybe you can take this as a chance to start over again. But for yourself this time. Not for anyone else." He feels crass suggesting this in the wake of everything Tubbo'd been fighting for, but he can't stop talking. "That's what I'm going to do. I... I might not see you much anymore. I want to start fresh, somewhere far away from everyone else. From everything else. I think it'll be good for me, maybe it could be good for you too."
Tubbo lets out a little exhale, eyes focused on the plumes of thick black smoke still rising out from the depths of the pit in front of them. He follows an especially curly wisp as it floats onwards and upwards, until it's dissipated into the mass of clouds above.
"Maybe that's not such a bad idea."
Michael is scribbling with deep intent. He's sitting on the floor next to his tiny table, a pink crayon carefully clutched in his cloven hoof as he tries to draw. Tubbo and Ranboo are sat on the side of Michael's tiny bed, their sides pressed together as they take in the joy of being with their son. They need all the joy they can get these days, especially after the news Sam gave them the other day.
Tubbo's head is nestled into Ranboo's shoulder, his horn poking into the enderman's arm slightly but he doesn't mind. Whatever makes him happy, Ranboo's happy to provide. They're posing right now anyways, Michael insisted they stay still, and what sort of parents would they be to deny him?
Their son is currently coloring in what he's guessing is Tubbo's face, a messy smile and eyes already in the circle. He expects the whole circle to be pink but Michael only does one half, and he realizes he's not coloring in Tubbo's skin, he's coloring the scars. The ram chuckles a little, Ranboo feels his body shake a little with his exhale.
"I wondered how he was gonna do that. Clever."
"Mm."
Ranboo doesn't know what to say, but he understands. He's got his own scars after all, though they're not nearly as big as Tubbo's. Michael's moved onto the brown crayon now, making big loops to symbolize Tubbo's hair, coloring directly over the little dot eyes he'd drawn earlier. Ranboo forgot how long the ram's bangs had gotten, but their son was pretty spot on.
"You ever think about how he'll never know what we looked like before our scars?"
The enderman stiffens at that, turning to look at Tubbo before Michael snorts in anger and he goes back to his original position. He keeps his eyes toward their son, trying to keep his expression the same.
"Not really, if I'm honest. I mean we've had them so long it's like a part of us, don't you think? I don't even remember how I looked before them."
"I guess that's fair, for you at least. I mean, it's funny in a way, if we found him a year earlier he'd know what I looked like before them. Weird to think about time like that."
His breath catches as he processes what Tubbo said. He'd always thought the scars had been with Tubbo for a long time. They're healed, or as healed as they'll ever get. Light pink, and raised, but still far from a fresh scar. Ranboo had assumed he'd had them for years, maybe an accident with one of his inventions, or maybe from when his first house burned down.
"I... didn't realize they were that recent. How long ago did you get them, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I think maybe a couple months before you showed up, bossman. Back in the Schlatt days."
Tubbo laughs a little, and Ranboo thinks hard on any information he can recall about Tubbo when he worked with Schlatt. He remembers being told that Tubbo worked in Schlatt's cabinet, and that the other ram had been the president just before Tubbo. He also remembers Tubbo was doing spy work for Wilbur and Tommy. He can put two and two together.
"Sorry." He starts, wishing he could move and comfort his husband physically, but he knows Michael will pitch a fit if he tries. Michael hasn't taken in any of their conversation, instead having moved on to the black crayon. He's drawing Ranboo now, it's clear from the height difference alone. "I've always assumed you've just... always had them. Thought it happened from an experiment gone wrong or something. Never wanted to pry."
"Don't worry about it, you don't need to remember it anyways. Not important."
Ranboo wants to argue but the ram nuzzles harder into his shoulder. Michael watches but doesn't say anything, seemingly fine with Tubbo moving now that he's been drawn. "It's alright. It feels like a long time ago, if that counts for anything. Just... hasn't been." He slides his hand over and takes Ranboo's in his, lacing their fingers together. The enderman hybrid squeezes gently, the only show of comfort he can do for now.
Michael lets out a squeal of delight and they both perk up, their son picking up his art and turning it around to show it off. There's Tubbo, eyes covered by hair and half a pink face. Ranboo, two-toned skin and red and green dots for eyes, with little gray marks he guesses is Michael's interpretation of his tear scars. And in between them is Michael, all pink except for the white outlined bit of his right side. There's even a little mass of gray and yellow next to him, which Ranboo thinks is meant to be his chicken.
Tubbo leans forward and takes the paper, grinning widely as he offered it to Ranboo, who grabbed the other side with his free hand so they could examine it together.
"What a family we make, huh?"
Ranboo is tired. Exhausted even, and it's only midday. He and Tubbo have been up since early morning, because finally, it's move in day. The mansion entry hall is filled with boxes and furniture yet to be put in the right rooms, everywhere you step there's something else that needs to find its rightful place. Michael is exploring the left wing, they ensured all the baby gates were up so he could wander freely, his giggles echoing as he ran through the mostly empty rooms.
The enderman finally reaches his destination, dropping a box with an exaggerated groan as he enters the bedroom, and Tubbo rolls his eyes from his position by the closet.
"I get it Boo, you need your big buff husband to come carry the boxes your weak little enderman arms can't handle. Don't need to make a show of it."
Ranboo scoffed, walking over and leaning down to look over Tubbo's shoulder, his arms encircling the ram hybrid's waist. "Don't forget these weak little enderman arms are strong enough to pick you up!" He hoists his husband up into a princess carry, Tubbo letting out a bleat in surprise before laughing and turning to clutch at Ranboo's neck for stability.
"Alright, alright, you proved your point. We're both big buff husbands, now let me down, I'm in the middle of a box." The enderman concedes, but not before planting a kiss on his cheek as his reward. Tubbo rolls his eyes again, letting out a little huff but he couldn't hide his smile as he went back to emptying the box in front of him.
"I think this is the last box for the bedroom, you want me to do it or work on another room?"
Tubbo glanced over, shrugging as he pulled out a worn green sweater, slipping a hanger in it. "Up to you bossman, I don't mind the company though." Ranboo nodded, bending down and opening the box, which was filled with bits and bobs from their old bedrooms, combined into one mess. He pulled out a few books, checking the titles before heading over to a bookshelf.
"Oh, thought I lost this during doomsday."
There's a suit in Tubbo's hands. For a moment Ranboo thought it was his presidential suit, but upon closer inspection he realizes the shoulder pads aren't there and the tie that's loosely knotted around the inner shirt collar is a deep green. But the most obvious difference is the burn marks. Specifically all over the right side, the right sleeve alone is half gone, as is the inner sleeve.
"What happened here?" He asks, trying to keep his tone light, but he's honestly afraid of the response. The missing spots seem to correlate to Tubbo's burn scars far too much for Ranboo's liking. He feels like he can almost piece it together, but the actual answer is alluding him.
"Eh. Not much. Got executed for being a spy, the burns are from Techno's fireworks."
"Oh... Why did Techno..."
"Schlatt forced him. Big Q kind of just stood by too, I don't know how much he knew honestly. It was ages ago though, don't worry about it." Tubbo stared at the suit for a little longer, before walking over to one of their half-full trashbags and dumping the suit in, clapping his hands together to get the soot off them. Turning around, he catches Ranboo's eyes and smiles.
"Did you know I got executed?"
Ranboo's attention snaps from staring out at Las Nevadas in an instant. Tubbo's still looking down at Quackity and Foolish, who were in the midst of filling the river with dirt. For a moment he thinks he's misheard him. "Hm?" All he can bring himself to utter is a noise of curiosity, hoping it's enough to keep Tubbo talking.
"Yeah, I know. Have I never told you this?"
"Mm- no you, you have? You did?"
"Yeah, Technoblade. Blew me up."
The ram hybrid turns to his husband, looking weary yet somehow still speaking as light and nonchalantly as if he was talking about the weather. Ranboo feels like his heart has snapped in two. "What?" His mind is racing, thinking over all his recent memories with Techno and looking at them with fresh eyes. "Why did he- why did he blow you up?"
Tubbo shrugs a little, breaking the eye contact and glancing down out the window again.
"Ehh, he was peer pressured into it, by Schlatt and Big Q."
"By, b-by Quackity again?"
"Yeah I'm starting to establish a pattern of behavior if you know what I mean." Tubbo lets out a little laugh, wry as he screws his mouth up into a pained smile. "I can tell you, 'cause chances are you wont remember any of this. But I'm just speaking my thoughts aloud. Like I've started to notice a pattern of behavior with this guy so just keep it in the back of your mind."
The taller boy is silent, his face set in a pained frown, unsure what to say. Tubbo's finally opened up to him, and about something he'd clearly been keeping deep in his heart for quite some time. When they got married Ranboo had assumed he would always have to just accept that Tubbo had parts of him he would never learn about. Now that he's learning them, he's unsure how capable he is of handling it. He reaches a hand out, gently pressing it to Tubbo's back. The ram's told him before how grounding touch can be for him, and this feels like a moment which needs it.
"Are you ok? From that?"
Tubbo leans into his touch, slipping into the space under Ranboo's arm as he's done dozens of times before. Ranboo pulls him in close, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of Tubbo's head, just between his horns. "I'm fine." His voice is muffled as he presses into Ranboo, nuzzling and hiding his face. "Just a little bit burnt from the fireworks explosions." The taller boy feels his shoulders sag and they turn to face each other fully, wrapping each other up in a tight hug.
"Yeah... I know. I never wanted to bring that up." Ranboo mumbles into Tubbo's hair, eyes shut tight as he tries to will himself from tearing up. He can feel the other boy's hands clutch at his suit jacket, his reply too muffled to understand.
It's cold. Tubbo groans, smushing his face into his pillow and waving out his hand, grasping blindly at his side. It's empty. Still slightly warm, like Ranboo had only left recently. Maybe he could whine him back to sleep, he'd like his personal heater back for another hour at least.
"Boo?" He calls out, voice soft and sleepy. He hears a clatter in the closet and then suddenly there's a dip in the bed and Ranboo is next to him, kneeling in his usual spot and leaning over to brush Tubbo's bangs out of his eyes.
"You called, Bo?" His voice is low and syrupy sweet, hand moving to cup Tubbo's cheek. Tubbo can't feel it, the scar tissue was mostly numb at this point. Still he appreciates the sentiment, laying his hand on top of the one on his cheek and appreciating the warmth emanating from it.
"Come back to bed, just for a little?" He blinks slowly up at Ranboo, trying his best to pull off a pair of puppy eyes to win him over. The enderman coos, looking swayed for a moment before he shakes his head and gives Tubbo a gentle kiss to his forehead.
"I'm sorry Tubbo, but I gotta leave now if I want to try and get to Techno's tundra before midday. I haven't seen him in a few days so I need time to search and see if I can figure out his hibernation spot."
Tubbo's brow furrows in confusion, running what Ranboo said over in his brain a couple times before replying. "You're visiting Techno today? Did you have plans I forgot?" Ranboo is still cupping his cheek, thumb moving in a gentle circle as he kept his eyes locked with Tubbo's.
"It's unplanned. I just... I know you didn't seem like you held it against him, but, I wanted to talk to him about the execution. About the fireworks."
He freezes for a moment, before shooting up to a sitting position. His hand grips at Ranboo's sleeves unconsciously, and Ranboo's hands naturally move to find Tubbo's and clasp them both. "You remember how I got the scars?" The question is quiet and stilted, like he'd fought to even get it out. He doesn't remember anymore, how many times he'd told Ranboo. At some point he'd just accepted that maybe his execution wasn't important enough to warrant space in his memory. Tubbo knew it was unfair to think of it like that, knew that Ranboo had forgotten dozens of important stories and memories. Hell, he even forgot Michael's name once.
But this morning he remembered it all. Every bit of Tubbo's painful memories that he was willing to divulge last night. Tubbo's view falls to their hands, and he realizes Ranboo's been making soft circles with his thumb on his scarred hand, though he isn't sure anymore if it's meant to be a comforting motion for himself or Ranboo.
"If you don't want me to I won't, but I'd really like to talk with him and find out why I never learned about this sooner. If Quackity will allow it I may go talk to him too, just to hear his perspective of what happened too. Is that okay? T-Tubbo?"
The ram is jolted back into the current situation as Ranboo's now dabbing at his face with the blanket, careful to not touch the tears leaking out directly. Tubbo leans back, rubbing at his eyes and laughing under his breath. "Sorry, sorry. I'm okay." The enderman doesn't seem satisfied with that reply, moving in close and cradling Tubbo's face in his hands, keeping eye contact as he leaned in close to gently knock their foreheads together.
"You sure? I can come back to bed still. Look for Techno another day."
Tubbo can't help but smile, clasping his hands over Ranboos and pulling them off, kissing the tops of his hands before resting his cheek on one again. "It's cool. Go be the over-protective husband, you can tell me about it later. Maybe bring me Michael before you go though?" The enderman is satisfied with that, murmuring a quiet ok and getting up. Minutes later he returns with their son cradled in his hands, the piglin still asleep. Tubbo lays back down, and Ranboo gently sets Michael next to him, close enough that the piglin instantly nuzzles into Tubbo's chest on instinct.
The two parents share a smile and a goodbye kiss before Ranboo's gone, and Tubbo settles back into bed, petting his son's hair. Ranboo's remembered his story. He knows that he died, how he got his scars, who hurt him. It almost feels like a weight Tubbo didn't realize had been sitting on him this entire time has been lifted off. He closes his eyes, nuzzling into the top of his son's head, and falls asleep feeling lighter than he has in months.