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“W-what?”
Whatever peace that had settled in Ranboo after the whole (almost violent) ordeal with Quackity broke at Tubbo’s sudden confession.
Did you know I got executed?
The words bounced around in Ranboo’s head, bringing back the dizzying anxiety they had felt all day. It was said so calmly, too calmly. Like it was just common knowledge that was thrown around like a fun fact. Oh, yeah, forgot to mention: I was violently killed! It was so casual, so Tubbo .
Even worse somehow, Technoblade did it. His neighbor, his fellow Syndicate member, his- friend? Whatever he was, he killed Tubbo? Their Tubbo? The Tubbo that picks alliums just for them before he comes home? The Tubbo that sings softly to Michael every single night without fail? The Tubbo that talks Ranboo out of their head when things get too much? Who could ever do that? Who could ever see what Ranboo sees and still decide it deserves to be gone?
Maybe Techno knew he had 2 lives, Ranboo reasoned, he didn’t actually die die… Even so, Techno had to know what he was doing, the magnitude of the action. He had killed so many people, seen so many respawns, he has to have known what losing a life did to people. He had to.
But he did it anyway. He killed Ranboo’s everything. Took something so vital and filling, leaving a hurt, broken boy in his wake. Blew him up and then left. No matter the reason, it was nauseating to think Ranboo would have to see him again. Every horrible scenario hit him over and over, continuing to leave him completely stunned silent.
They never talked like this. Everything was secretive, left until the last minute to suddenly burst out of its restraints and leave them battered and gasping for air. It was some unspoken law in the family. You have your secrets, and I have mine. You look after your nukes, and I work with the Syndicate. You wake up from nightmares screaming, and I come home with bright purple eyes. We don’t lie, we just hide the truth. That’s always how it was.
Until now.
Tubbo hummed in some kind of response, his brown eyes still trained on the sunset over Las Nevadas. He was completely relaxed, with no sign of tension anywhere. It was almost relieving to Ranboo if it wasn’t so unlike him. Tubbo was always on edge, always putting barriers between himself and everyone around him, only allowing a choice few to see him as he really is. Even Ranboo hadn’t gotten all the way in, a fact he learned after hearing Tubbo quietly sobbing beside him in bed, assuming they were asleep.
Now Tubbo had every wall down, no force needed. He was at peace, but it was almost unnervingly so.
Realizing he probably wanted some kind of response, the enderman hybrid cleared their throat, “He- why did he-” their spinning thoughts fought for their place on Ranboo’s tongue.
“Why did he blow you up?” they finally choked out, still studying Tubbo. He glanced down, sighing softly. The boy was tracing the scars on his hand with his other thumb, subconsciously scratching every once in a while. Still calm… They didn’t push too far then.
“He was peer pressured into it,” he said nonchalantly, “by Schlatt and Big Q.” Big Q… Quackity? God , how bad was this guy? Ranboo only knew bits and pieces of that era, people thinking they didn’t really need to know or they’d just forget it anyway. What they did know, though, was that even in the few months they had known Quackity, he had done some… questionable things.
He wasn’t all bad, of course. He supported Tommy before he was exiled. He was engaged still, even if Ranboo hadn’t seen much of his fiances recently (something Foolish said about mushrooms rings a bell). But even with that, Quackity still formed the Butcher Army. Even now, Ranboo is confused about his feelings from that time.
It seemed like the right decision at the time. After all, it protected everyone in L’manburg, and in the end, that was all they wanted. It was so horribly suffocating, though. Ranboo wasn’t violent by nature, preferring to support from the sidelines, so when it came time to execute Technoblade, they were obviously hesitant.
I guess getting peer pressured into executing someone by Quackity is now a shared trait… Ranboo thought humorlessly. Doesn’t make it any better, but it does make it more understandable. Quackity can be pretty terrifying. Terrifying enough to boss Technoblade around, however…
Oh, yeah, they were supposed to be having a conversation.
“By- by Quackity again ?” Ranboo stuttered. Tubbo chuckled and flashed a smile in their direction. “Yeah…” He fully turned to look at them with an amused face, “I’m starting to establish a pattern of behavior if you know what I mean.” The joke fell a bit flat, but the enderman hybrid at least attempted a smile back. Tubbo rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and turned to look back out the window.
“I can tell you these things cuz chances are you won’t remember any of this, but I’m just speaking my-” the words fell to static.
...what?
No… Tubbo- he wouldn’t’ve… would he? Of all people…
…
Tubbo had to know. Months of spending time together, rereading their memory journal, helping recite things they needed to remember. He had to know how vulnerable their memory made Ranboo feel. It was the one thing they tried to hide from others, no matter the manipulation, the peer pressure, anything. They finally thought they could trust someone to take down that wall and-
And now Ranboo learns their trust was abused.
Honestly, though, who wouldn’t? It’s a tool. Ranboo is a tool. Use them, force them to do your horrendous tasks, and then toss them away, hoping they’ll never remember a thing. A silly quirk. A party trick. Why wouldn’t Tubbo?
It still hurts . It hurts so bad that they have to physically stop themselves from curling up and breaking down right there on the floor. It was expected from everyone else, only leaving a dull, nagging ache in their chest. But this- this was like an ice-cold dagger was pierced directly into their stomach. This was a crushing hand wrapping around their torso and squeezing every ounce of breath out of them.
All those mornings spent retelling the previous week’s events. The notes left in random places in the house. The mantras repeated after really, really bad days…
How long has Tubbo been using Ranboo like a journal he could burn after?
Has it always been like this?
God, I’m so stupid why would I ever let someone do that what is wrong with me does he even-
“Ranboo?” a voice broke through the buzzing static. Tubbo was looking at them with a confused expression, completely unaware of the war waging in Ranboo’s head. He had his hand rested on their shaking hands, making them aware of just how tense their body was. With a harsh tug, they ripped their hand out of his and took a step back.
“How many times?” Ranboo whispered, voice cracking. Silence fell.
“...what do you-?” Tubbo started, cut off by the enderman hybrid whirling around to glare at him.
“ How. Many. Times!? ” They repeated, angry tears beginning to well in their eyes. They were facing each other now, both staring at the other. Tubbo’s previously relaxed form was now almost cowering at the sudden outburst. His mouth opened and closed, and his eyes shifted around nervously.
There was another beat of stifling silence before Tubbo finally responded.
“I- big man, I was only executed once…?”
Some of the anger drained from their body, leaving a gaping pit.
...he didn’t know. Had Ranboo not made it abundantly clear? Had they not come home one day with no memory of the past day, crying and fighting blinding fear of forgetting everyone? Had they not told him that nobody ever looked in their memory book except him? All that time together, and he still- he still…
A burning tear slid down their face. Brown eyes followed it as it dripped to the floor.
“Tubbo, you- I-” words failed Ranboo for a moment, still reeling.
“You… used me?” Their tongue settled on, whispering harshly, “How- Tubbo, how many times have you talked to me just to let me forget it? On purpose, not- if you did it by accident, then maybe it- it’d be more okay, but- Tubbo, you know how I feel about my memory.”
The boy’s face shifted from scared confusion to sudden understanding to some unreadable expression.
“Uh… I mean- It-” Tubbo stuttered looking at the floor. He took a shaking breath.
“Only once before,” he looked back up with a shaky smile, a matching tear inching through his scarred cheek, “but I guess that doesn’t make it much better, does it?”
Once. Once . The fact it had been done at all still ached, but once wasn’t as bad as it could be. Once was a moment of weakness. Once was forgivable. Unless…
“When?” Ranboo demanded, voice still quivering from the poorly held back tears.
Silence again. Hesitance. Whatever it was, Tubbo wanted to keep it hidden. Even at the expense of them.
Then a small broken sob.
Ranboo looked up at the noise, taking in the boy. Tubbo had his arms wrapped around his chest, shaking shoulders pulled up to his ears. Tears flowed freely down his face and stained his coat with dark spots.
Their heart broke at the sight. The pit filled with prickling guilt, overflowing into his throat and pushing more tears to drip. Maybe this is too far… No. They had to know. They had to hear what was so bad, that Tubbo couldn’t trust them enough to not judge him.
“Wh- when Tommy died...” he said around barely held back sobs,
Oh.
Oh.
“I couldn’t- I didn’t believe it at first, y-ya know? No one did… But- but you seemed just so sad , you- I had to- to be your rock. Everyone’s r-rock. People- they would come to m-me, for condolences, ap-apologizes… but- but no one really came for me, y-yeah? I’d- They would cry and say s-sorry and I had to- had to just forgive them! I h-hated it.”
He looked back down at his feet, breath still hitching.
“That night- I just- I couldn’t d-do it. I was so tired, and- and scared. I didn’t w-want to burden you more… y-you already had Michael and your sleepwalking th-thing and- God, I- I just h-had to talk.”
“S-so I woke you up that night and- I just- br-broke down, I guess… That morning, I- I didn’t tell you it h-happened, so you never wrote it down and-”
Thin arms wrapped around the smaller figure, locking Tubbo in a sudden embrace. They were equally as shaky and tear-stained but held him just as tight. The boy was silent for a moment before his quiet sobs continued, now aimed at Ranboo’s chest. The enderman hybrid rested his head on his neck, hoping to offer some comfort and some relief to their own burning cheeks.
...it still wasn’t entirely okay.
Their trust had still been broken. Their walls were put back up, even if they were thin.
But Ranboo forgives him.
They forgive him because they know what being a rock feels like. They do it every day for their family, the best they can. Rocks can only hold for so long before they tumble down the mountain. It takes many rocks to make a foundation, they just need to build theirs.
They forgive him because if they could talk to someone and reset the conversation, they would too. Having the ability to just vent and never have to have the burden of knowing someone else is aware of your pain. It’s not a bad thought.
They forgive him because it was his weakest moment. Tubbo wanted Ranboo there to comfort him. It was probably a lasting memory for Tubbo now… They wish they remembered it.
They forgive him because who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t forgive the boy who brought them alliums? The boy who sang their child to sleep? Who patiently retold whole months in detail? Who wouldn’t forgive Tubbo?
Their Tubbo.
And if their Tubbo had to break down all his walls sometimes and cry, then Ranboo would be there.
And if their Tubbo needed someone to protect him and Michael, then Ranboo would be there.
Ranboo would be by their Tubbo’s side…
...always.