Work Text:
Tubbo's office has always been messy, a desk full of unrolled blueprints and projects with scratchy writing and weird codes, papers and photos scattered in a confusing order.
Michael has always been a curious kid, going into every room of the massive mansion just to see what was inside (and if he could find something to play with), so when he came across Tubbo's messy studio it was like Christmas to him.
He looked all over the room but what caught his interest was the desk, searching with his tiny hoof and looking at all the projects, paper and blueprints; until a photo caught his attention. He took it and looked at it, squealing from excitement as it looked dirty with coffee stains and time, like a hidden treasure !!! He quickly left the room stomping with his tiny hoofs in search of one of his dads, finding then Ranboo and squealing with happiness holding high up the found photo.
Ranboo almost jumped at the sudden noises near him, but smiled when he noticed it was just his cute little son holding.. something, probably for him to grab; Ranboo with a puzzled face grabbed the photo and analysed it. He noticed that it was dirty with coffee stains and the colours were fading due to time having its action on the photo, with little rips at edges.
Ranboo held the photo near his face in order to see what exactly was it about and.. was this the original L'manberg group? He could recognise Tommy with his big grin and gesture, Niki with her soft smile and wave, Wilbur holding his guitar, face still young and brown curls untouched under a beanie, Fundy running in the background following probably a small animal, Eret with a pretty dress they probably made and.. there was someone else he couldn't quite recognise.
This kid was under Tommy's arm, laughing in a brightly manner, blond locks with a touch of brown all over the place, shining aqua eyes and a battered green button-up. He furrowed his brows trying to understand who it was, after a few minutes he gave up and went to search for Tubbo to ask who the mysterious boy was.
Tubbo was idli cooking dinner in the kitchen, humming a soft tune under his breath while stirring the soup that was in the pot. His shaggy unkempt hair still prominent over his eyes, trying to cover most of the web of burn scars that expanded on his cheek and neck; while his scarred arms were cosily covered by the big Snowchester coat, meaning he just came back home recently.
Ranboo smiled softly at the sight, his husband was something that everytime made a fond smile appear on his face. He approached him with light steps and tapping on his shoulder twice, so Tubbo knew that it was him and wouldn't get startled.
Tubbo stopped stirring the soup and hugged Ranboo, a substitute for saying hi and just because he missed him, coat and skin still cold from the icy weather outside their cozy home.
Tubbo noticed Ranboo holding a photo and slightly tilted his head with a puzzled expression;
-"Ranboo, where did you get a photo? I didn't remember you taking photos of us".
Tubbo said with a light tone and smirk, but his smile started to crumble when he noticed what photo it was
Oh, it was a pre l'manberg photo.
Ranboo didn't notice the change of expression on Tubbo's face and showed him the photo, and indicated with a clawed finger a small blonde boy with a green button-up and asked, with a confused face;
-"Who is this boy Tubbo? I can't.. recognize this person".
Tubbo felt like crying.
Tubbo felt like crying because he changed so much that no one would recognise him, but instead opted for giggling because he 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 cry, he can't let it show.
-"That's me bossman, I still should have that shirt somewhere" he said with rushed words and an attempt of a cheerful tone.
Ranboo took two seconds to assimilate the words and immediately started to rush apologies as fast as he could, putting the photo on the table and trying to explain saying that he looks so very different from now and it just didn't click.
He looks so different.
Tubbo brushed it off saying it was fine and excused himself to the bathroom, taking the photo from the chipped wooden table and locking himself inside.
Tubbo looked at the photo, holding it with a death grip. His well kept honey blonde hair are now shaggy and a deep chocolate brown, ruffled in different ways and over his eyes. His once baby blue eyes now darker, one of them cloudy from blindness, with heavy bags under them adorning his face like a twisted painting from infinite projects and sleepless nights, his bare head now adorned with curled pointy horns that every night he begs for them to disappear and the most visible change;
His pale, smooth skin was now covered in a intricate web of burn scars, framing half of his face and body.
He felt like a ruined painting.
He traced with shaky hands the scars covering his face, neck and torso, his shaking hands just a heavier reminder of what ruined his mind and body, nerves long damaged.
His hands traced along the web like they could expand if he touched or pressed them more, like his body would collapse if he acknowledged them more, like he would realise how much fucked up he is and break there. Like that if he remembered just a little bit more the fireworks burning his skin and tearing him apart he would shatter.
And he did.
He couldn't stand the reflection that bore its eyes into his soul and skin, he couldn't stand to see a reflection that 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 him, because that scarred boy with horns too big for his head, eye bags so deep that looked purple and a cloudy eye that couldn't see more than shadows couldn't be him.
So he smashed the mirror.
Mirror shards fell around him, and so did he. He fell into his knees and hugged his shoulders tightly, pressing hard his nails against the flesh almost drawing blood, while chocked sobs and cries escaped his lips without permission; big warm tears traced his face and scars, making him feel more miserable and curl on himself.
He didn't cry, he never cried, he 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 supposed to.
He never cried when nightmares of explosions ringing his ears and fireworks burning him alive replayed like a sick play every single day of his life.
So why he cried now?
He couldn't stand to see that monster so he destroyed the only way he could exist.
He was pathetic.
Ranboo heard a breaking noise and immediately rushed to the noise, worried that Tubbo could be hurt; he opened the bathroom's door and
Oh
He didn't expect to see a crying Tubbo on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and blood that seeped from his own hand, trembling and hyperventilating curled on himself, like to protect himself from everything.
Ranboo tried to think as quickly as he could, Tubbo probably wouldn't hear him right now in this state, so he took a first aid medic kit and sat in front of the goat hybrid.
He looked at him in the eyes and then at the hand, trying to gesture that he needed to take care of it, or else it could infect and that would be more painful.
Tubbo tried to quickly nod, still hyperventilating but slightly more calm thanks to Ranboo's presence that he didn't even notice appearing.
Ranboo took it as a sign of acceptance and slowly started to disinfect and bandage the small hand while making small circle on it, in an attempt to soothe the brunet.
Tubbo tried to focus on Ranboo's touch and the action in front of him, he would mostly hate touch in this situation and probably punch the person in front of him, but his touch was comforting and.. nice.
He calmed a bit, heavy tears still falling on his face but his chest heaved less, somewhat retaking a kinda normal pace.
When Ranboo finished bandaging his hand he put the kit in its place, sat again in front of Tubbo and hesitantly opened his arms. He didn't want to hug Tubbo in case it would be too overwhelming, but he wanted to show that he could if he wanted to.
Tubbo fell in his arms and hugged him in a crushing embrace, taking fists of his dress shirt in his small hands and crying heavily in a way he never did in front of someone; his eyes stung due to the tears, red and puffy.
Ranboo hugged him gently, with one hand caressing his head and the other rubbing circles on his back.
They didn't need to approach the situation at that moment, all that mattered was that they were safe in each other's arms.
Tubbo wasn't ok, but he will be someday
And Ranboo will be right by his side.
