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The whistle of a steam engine train blasts though the air, clear and warm, the vehicle’s wheels slamming past with muffled chugs and and the slight, occasional screech of metal striking metal. Sand billows in the wake of the mighty train, rising in the air to only settle once the train is long gone. The gleaming tracks the train flies on cut straight through a long, empty strip of desert, barren save for cacti and turkey vultures.
Well.
Nearly barren.
Two sets of hooves, thunderous and powerful, beat into the ground beside the train as it storms by, two teenage boys hanging onto the powerful horses, wind in their hair and freedom flying in their young hearts.
“Cookies!” shouts the shorter of the younger two boys, a brunette with curling horns and shaggy bangs, on the side farther from the train. “You’re one hundred percent sure they’re on there?”
The small boy’s words are nearly swept away by the wind, but Ranboo catches them nonetheless. “I’m sure!” he says, eyeing the coal-black train by their side, itching to make a move.
The Eggpire. A notorious gang of thieves, living off their own profits, stealing wherever they saw fit. Skeppy and Badboyhalo, the best of friends- practically impossible to separate. And antfrost, mysterious in most ways, loyal in all.
This train that they apparently reside in at the moment is chock-full with rations and supplies meant for the few towns of people living in the desert, but apparently the three had decided they need to get their filthy hands on it. Despicable , Ranboo can’t help but think. The eggpire knows he and Tubbo’s faces, and they know that despite their greater number, they may be unmatched.
And Ranboo knows they don’t like to lose. They’d rather lose their winnings completely than have them taken. And if his suspicions are correct, and they’re heading towards the unfinished section of train track, the one that goes careening into a canyon off of a half-baked bridge.
Ranboo steadies his foot in his stirrup, loosening his grip on the reigns, the corners of a smile turning up his lips.
“Ranboo,” Tubbo warns over the wind, and Ranboo cringes at the use of his name- when Tubbo’s not calling him some variant of “oreo boy,” that really means he’s in trouble. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it! Sit your ass down right now!”
“I can make it,” Ranboo replies easily, eyes fixed on an iron bar on the side of the rushing train. He shakily lifts himself from his sitting position, just barely keeping his balance. He leans over, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing the bar. Ranboo’s foot slips slightly- he pretends not to hear the gasp that escapes Tubbo’s mouth (he’ll definitely be embarrassed about that later), quickly regaining his footing.
He’ll have to jump to reach it.
“Do not!” Tubbo calls.
Ranboo steadies.
Ranboo jumps. He grabs onto the iron pole, clinging to the train for dear life, and laughing breathlessly. “Got it!” He turns, offering Tubbo a thumbs up. “I’ll chase em off the train!” he calls, as Tubbo’s horse starts to fall behind. “You catch em out here.”
Tubbo starts to argue, but settles for a nod. “Good luck!” he shouts.
Ranboo tips his hat, earning an eyeroll from Tubbo, and swings over to stand on the metal latch between two cars. After a second of jiggling the lock, he manages to open the door to the car he’d previously been hanging on, slipping inside.
The little room is stocked head to ceiling with boxes, jostling slightly with the train’s movement. Ranboo closes the door behind him, keeping eyes and ears open for any sign of the crimson trio. His eyes scan over the car, searching for any abnormalities- and land on a strange, unusually shaped obect shoved between a couple boxes. He lifts an eyebrow curiously, and kneels to tug the object away from the containers. It’s soft to the touch.
“What the heck…?” he murmurs, turning it over in his hands. A plush chicken? It’s worn and nearly yellowed, one of its beady button eyes hanging on by a single crumpled thread.
Ranboo shakes his head, setting it back on the ground. He mustn’t get distracted.
He almost steps over the plush to keep walking, but glancing down at the sad-looking chicken, something compels him to take it with him. He picks it up again and gently places it in his satchel. It fits there perfectly. He keeps looking.
Meanwhile, Tubbo, still racing alongside the train, struggles to find a safe-ish way onto the vehicle. Although his horse is fast, it’s not nearly fast enough to keep up with the locomotive for much longer, and he’ll have to make a move soon if he wants to get on. The caboose is quickly coming up on them.
Tubbo exhales, steadying himself as Ranboo had done. If he gets on the back, they’ll be covering more ground anyways, as Ranboo had been relatively close to the front of the train. As the back end of the train comes into view, Tubbo steels his nerves, and takes a leap. His foot just barely skimming the rushing ground, Tubbo grabs ahold of the back rail, landing the jump almost perfectly.
Phew. Tubbo glances back and his and Ranboo’s horses, which are falling behind easily now, with no rider to urge them further. They’ll come back for the mares later. For now, he pushes open the door to the caboose, heart still pounding from his leap of faith.
Bad and Skeppy, playing a game with cards on the floor, look up at his sudden entrance, wide-eyed. Skeppy slowly places down a card on the pile between them (and why is Skeppy wearing a train conductor’s uniform?).
“Uh,” Tubbo says, smiling weakly. “Room service?”
“Skeppy, get out!” Bad screeches, scrambling to his feet and yanking Skeppy to his, both men practically tripping over their own feet to get out.
“Hey!” Tubbo calls, clambering after them as Bad and Skeppy book it to the roof of the train. “Get back here!”
In high-pressure situations, Tubbo works surprisingly well. He easily finds his footing, and within seconds, he’s nearly on their tails.
“Fuck off!” Skeppy shouts over his shoulder, accompanied by a panicked ‘Language !’ from Badboyhalo.
“No thanks!” Tubbo says, jumping the gap between two cars, unable to help the cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Bad,” Skeppy complains, his pace slowing as he begins to tire. “Do something!”
“Wha-“ Bad sputters. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I dunno! Something cool!”
Badboyhalo huffs, irritated. “You go find and deal with the other one! I’ve got this.”
Skeppy offers a two fingered salute, and slips into an open window on a car roof, likely just glad to have escaped the possibility of actual work on his part. Tubbo gains on Bad, never slipping or losing his confident stride.
“You’ve already lost, Badboyhalo!” he calls as he gains ground. Bad slows to a stop at the edge of a train car, a grin carved into his inky face. With a twitch of his fingers, a pistol blinks into existance between the demon’s fingers, but not before Tubbo’s yanked out his gun, too.
The two freeze, breathing heavily, staring each other down.
“I wouldn’t say I’ve lost,” Bad smiles, shrugging.
“That’s what you think,” Tubbo easily retorts. Banter comes easily to him.
“It’s what I know.” Bad doesn’t have pupils, but he’s practically rolling his eyes anyways. “You two muffinheads are toast.”
Tubbo furrows his eyebrows. “Stop the train, Bad. You don’t need all this shit, you guys are like, rich.”
“Language.”
“Language, my arse!”
“ Language !” Bad snaps. “I’m getting really, really tired of you and your friend getting in my business, and so is everyone else in this desert.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” Tubbo snorts. “We’re not fuckin going anywhere.”
“Language,” Bad frowns, but it’s only momentary displeasure. That eery smile creeps across his face once more as he snorts and giggles.
“Stop,” Tubbo demands, never loosening his grip on the trigger. “Stop laughing, why the hell are you laughing?”
Bad grins. “Because I know something you don’t know.”
It’s bait, and they both know it. Tubbo steadies his stance. He knows better. He takes it anyways. “And what’s that?”
“I know that this train is chock-full of dynamite. And I know this desert is about to get a lot more lawless.”
Tubbo’s eyes widen, Bad’s high-pitched laughter echoing in his ears as he frantically scrambles down from the roof into the train car. He needs to find Ranboo, and find him fast.
—
Rocks. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense. Rocks?
Ranboo frowns, grabbing his pocketknife and slicing open another cardboard box. More rocks. Another. Rocks.
“What the heck is happening on this train?” He groans, frustration evident. Every single box, on every single car he’d cleared, was filled to the brim with stones. Why did the Eggpire even need this train? Not that they would even need food and rations, like the ones that Tubbo and Ranboo had been told was on the train- Bad and Skeppy were ridiculously rich. Ranboo purses his lips. Perhaps accepting random snippets of overheard conversation at an inn with thin walls as immediate truth was a bad idea.
Nevertheless, those mistakes are in the past, and right now, Ranboo has to get to the bottom of this. He stands from the box he’s opened, and moves back towards the front of the train, frowning.
When he finally gets to the front car, Ranboo wings open the door to see a man dressed in a train conductor’s uniform shovelling coal into the fuel fire, whistling jovially to himself.
“Um, excuse me, sir…” Ranboo clears his throat, gently tapping the man on the shoulder- only to jump back with a shout as Skeppy turns to face him.
Skeppy grins. “Sorry, pardner,” he drawls. “We’ll be at your stop soon!”
Ranboo, eyes wide, begins to demand some sort of answer from the blue speckled man, but Skeppy simply pushes past him without a care in the world.
“Oh, Ant!” Skeppy calls out in a sing-song voice, and Ranboo notices a horse-drawn buggy pulling up on the train, Antfrost sitting in the driver’s seat, Badboyhalo sitting right beside him, hands folded behind his head. With no hesitation, Skeppy leaps from the train and tumbles into the cart, flipping Ranboo the bird, while Badboyhalo wiggles his fingers at Ranboo tauntingly.
“Enjoy the firework show!” Skeppy crows as the wagon pulls off, all three of them cackling.
Ranboo can only sputter. Did he just get completely and utterly juked? And… did Skeppy say fireworks? Shit. That can only mean one thing. He turns tail as fast as he can, moving through the cars at a probably-hazardous pace, considering he’s on a moving vehicle.
He flings open a car door just as Tubbo does, and both boys immediately grab each other, rushing to explain the situation all at once.
“Badboyhalo-“
“Skeppy-“
“It’s trapped-“
“They got away-“
“ Dynamite !” They both finish at once.
“We need to get out of here, stat,” Tubbo breathes heavily, letting go of Ranboo.
“Definitely,” Ranboo agrees vigorously. “Where are the horses?”
Tubbo looks at the ceiling. “Um.”
“Right,” Ranboo sighs. “Fine, that’s fine. We’ll just have to jump.” Tubbo hurrying close behind him, Ranboo hurries down a few more cars, before climbing onto the roof, grabbing onto his hat so it doesn’t fly off. Glancing back the direction the train’s heading, the weight of the situation really starts to set in.
The cliff is not only in sight, but rapidly approaching. Not to mention the apparent dynamite hidden somewhere on the train.
“Shit,” Tubbo whispers, climbing up beside him. Ranboo couldn’t have said it better himself.
“We need to move, bossman,” Tubbo commands, tugging on Ranboo’s sleeve. Ranboo, startling from his thoughts, can only nod.
Tubbo breathes out, his mouth going dry at the sight of the rushing ground beneath them. There’s no time for fear, though. Letting go of Ranboo’s sleeve, he steadies himself and makes the jump, eyes squeezing shut. He lands clumsily, painfully, rolling against the rocky ground, and goddamnit that’s gonna be a lot of bruising, but he’s alive.
Ranboo’s next. He’s just about to jump, in fact, when a soft noise grabs his attention- a tiny, nearly inaudible cry. He glances around, bewilderment spreading across his face.
There, clinging to the doorway of train car- a toddler? Brown-haired, little tusks poking out over his top lip, a bandage over one eye. The little kid reaches out for Ranboo with one little hand- the chicken plush. Ranboo glances at his satchel. The head of the stuffed animal is poking out of the closing flap.
Ranboo glances back at Tubbo, who’s almost a speck in the distance, but clearly distraught as he waves his arms around, and then at the quickly approaching cliff. He makes a decision.
Heart racing, he clambers down off the roof and scoops the toddler into his arms, clutching him close to his chest. He’s barely back on the roof again before the train lurches, the cars starting to spill over into the canyon beyond, and then Ranboo’s running, he’s running, and he’s leaping into the air, rolling onto the ground with his body curled around the small boy.
Out of breath and winded, Ranboo lays there for a second, chest heaving. Bracing for the deafening explosion soon to come from the canyon, Ranboo covers the little boy’s ears, squeezing his eyes shut. The crash to follow does not disappoint.
A moment later, at the feeling of a little hand patting his cheek, Ranboo finally sits up, rubbing the sweat off his forehead.
The little boy sits and looks at him with round eyes.
“You okay there, little guy?” Ranboo asks. The boy only smiles at him, and points towards Ranboo’s satchel.
“Ah,” Ranboo nods in understanding, and pulls the plush from his bag. The toddler giggles and hugs the chicken tight, pressing his face into its soft body. Ranboo would be lying if he said his heart didn’t explode a little bit.
“Ranboo!”
Tubbo, half-jogging and covered in dirt, runs up to meet them, looking both pissed, and grateful to be alive. “You dickhead, what took you so long to- oh!” His face morphs into one of undeniable softness upon seeing the little boy sat in front of Ranboo.
“Who’s this?” Tubbo asks in wonder, kneeling before the toddler and offering his hand.
Ranboo shrugs. “I don’t know, he just-“
“Micheal,” chirps the boy softly, grabbing onto Tubbo’s little finger.
Tubbo beams. “Hello, Micheal, well aren’t you a cutie?” He scoops Micheal up into his arms, standing. “Ranboo, can we keep him? please? pretty please?”
Ranboo stands as well, shaking his head. “Tubbo, he’s not a pet. He’s a kid.”
“I know,” Tubbo pouts. “But he’s so cute! And he’s all alone!”
Ranboo huffs. “Well- we’re obviously not gonna leave him here, but-“
“Then why don’t we just take him?”
Ranboo’s eyebrows knit together. “Isn’t that technically kidnapping?”
“There’s no one to say that we didn’t birth him ourselves,” Tubbo shrugs, turning his attention to Micheal. “Isn’t that right, Micheal?” Micheal just giggles, grabbing at Tubbo’s ear.
“Actually- Tubbo, do you even know how biology works?”
“Nope.”
Ranboo shakes his head again, the barest trace of a fond smile flickering across his lips. “C’mon. Let’s go find our horses, and get to some civilization. Then we’ll figure it out from there.”
“Fair,” Tubbo agrees as they start walking. “But you’ve gotta admit he melts your heart a little. You’ve gotta admit he’s cute.”
“Okay,” Ranboo concedes, rolling his eyes. “He is pretty adorable.”
“Ha! Yes!”
“That doesn’t mean we’re keeping him, though!”
“You’ve already lost this battle, big man.”