Work Text:
The faint sound of paper rustling and wall crumbling was something Tubbo never had the pleasure to wake up to. It felt so strange but oh so familiar at the same time, the chilly afternoon wind ruffling his brown locks ever so slightly, his ears ringing.
If it wasn't Ranboo's cries and his machines' frantic beeping next to his limp body, Tubbo could have easily fallen back asleep without a word to be spoken.
God, he never felt this relieved after grumpily sending Ranboo out of his small laboratory - LAB #2 to be exact - with that dismissive tone of his he only used around his husband. And oh he was so happy Ranboo actually obeyed this one time without making a scene - both of them knew these small brawls between the two were nothing to worry about, they have became the norm way before Ranboo proposed to him. Why were they arguing this time? What was the reason Ranboo left with pouting round cheeks and fake-anger laced under his multicolored skin? It seemed so dumb, so unimportant in the universe's eyes at this point he didn't even bother remembering.
Tubbo had to physically force himself to go back in time, to relieve everything that had happened only a few minutes ago - minutes? maybe hours? Tubbo was not sure. If someone waltzed inside the remaining of his tiny pathetic lab to laugh into his face and say the explosion happened years ago, the brunette would believe them without a doubt - his back was already hurting from the hard stone floor, or the remains of it.
Oh yeah, explosion
His lab exploded
Who would have thought
The little bugging voice inside his head was strangely quiet, the normal banter and joking dead silent.
Is he even conscious?
Drip drip drip
Small droplets of water met his skin, easing the burning sensation if only for a little bit.
Ranboo was crying. He was screaming and grieving and feeling the worst kind of pain he ever had to experience before. But what can he do? Call for help? Who would even bother answering his calls? Tommy, Niki? Maybe Philza? Besides no one knew where Tubbo's labs were, not after the first nuke was stolen at least. Tubbo made sure to make it extra secure this time.
Those damn nukes
The pure reason he had to hold Tubbo close to him, the two of them protected from the harsh winds of the tundra by ruined brick walls and beeping machines. The roof was nowhere to be found.
Tubbo had told him how he was in the progress of making a second nuke - technically forth, but who was Ranboo to correct his brunette husband who seemingly lost connection with the world, buried deep withing the topic of nuclear power and weapons. Ranboo liked to listen to him, liked to see how his face lit up every time the topic was brought up at the dinner table. Ranboo wished he payed more attention to the small details, little whispered secrets Tubbo had told him with mischief in his eyes, like a kid who proudly announced how he cheated during a Math test. Ranboo wished he could listen to the procedure of creating such a deadly weapon one last time - just once, just one more time so he can make sure to write everything down into his memory book to cherish the domestic memory forever.
Everything seemed so pointless now, so stupid.
"You should... You should measure the radiation around us Bossman. I can taste iron inside my mouth." Tubbo's voice was quiet and strained, and it just broke Ranboo's heart to a million pieces. Tubbo, his Tubbo never sounded like this, never this quiet, broken, distant. This was a new side of him, a side that left a bigger impact on Ranboo than the night Tubbo fist opened up, fist caressed the huge burn mark on his face while reliving those haunting memories of his, the seed of his never ending nightmares that kept him up thinking all night.
"It's... It's safe Bo, don't worry. I checked." Ranboo lied. He didn't give a shit about radiation, didn't care if the accident would pull him down to hell - at least he could waltz with Dream one last time.
"Are... are you sure Boo?"
Ranboo decided not to answer. The whole server could get radiation poisoning for all he cared, the only person who knew how to cure it would be gone soon anyway.
Oh, Tubbo was leaving
He truly was leaving this time
Tubbo's breathing was ragged and forced, and the familiar feeling of numbness creeped further and further higher, starting from his toes. A faint, naive side of his brain still tought it was just the cold, the snow that slowly buried the two of them with a fresh layer of pure whiteness. He was supposed to feel scared, supposed to feel angry and disappointed in himself - if the small bugging voice decided to stay silent, someone had to drag him down the ground one more time, right?
He faintly remembered telling Ranboo how he wanted to die. He remembered the dual colored face filled with pure concern as the topic of such morbidity came up between the two for the first time, way before marriage. They were sitting above L'Manhole, legs dangling down into the abyss, the sky looking like an illustration straight out from a fantasy book -shades of pink with a hint of orange, sheep shaped clouds floating above their head lazily.
Tubbo wanted to die of old age, in a comfy bed with hundreds of soft pillows and his loved ones surrounding him. He shared how he wanted to hear Ranboo or Tommy for the last time, a small lullaby or just a few sappy Ranboo-like sentences to soothe his worried self, Tubbo didn't really care. The idea of simply dying in his sleep was not entirely foreign either but hey, he could in fact be a sappy-idiot if he wanted to be.
He honestly couldn't wait till retirement. Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, waiting the sun to duck down on the horizon, the gentle breeze brushing through their almost ready corn farm. He wanted to go on adventures like how Ranboo always wanted, listening to his husband's soppy monologue of how he's showing him the world, like Aladdin. It's a shame he couldn't live long enough to watch Michael grow up. Can zombified piglins even grow up? Tubbo was not too sure, his head felt fuzzy and heavy, his senses strangely overwhelmed by the heavy pressure on his chest and the dust in the air.
"Do... Do you know our night time routine with Michael?" Tubbo wheezed out, weakly squeezing Ranboo's hand back. He felt strange, almost weightless like a feather, and for a moment he wondered if Phil felt like this all the time, having all bird-like bones and shit. Ranboo's touch was grounding, warm against his ice-cold fingers and Tubbo wondered if he could hold his face as well, if only for a minute. He missed the claw like hands on his cheeks, the scratch behind his goat ears every morning and the small forehead kiss he received after stumbling out of their shared bedroom, still half asleep. He just missed Ranboo's touch in general, the heat that radiated of his body every time Tubbo sat next to him on the couch to watch some dumb TV show before bed.
He felt the familiar water droplets on his face again, but the sensation was not as welcomed as before. It was salty and warm, and it bit into his scared skin. God he must look like absolute shit.
"No, Boo, don't cry" Tubbo's eyelids felt heavy and the world spun and blurred around him with a bright light in the distance "You're gonna scare that handsome face of yours even more" he laughed quietly, looking up at Ranboo with the softest eyes he could muster.
"I can't believe you, being blown up and still worrying about my face" Ranboo teased and laughed quietly and Tubbo wheezed with him. It was so absurd, so weird. It was not supposed to be like this, they were meant to grow old together, meant to move away one day without a notice just to never be found again, just the small Beloved family and close friends. Far, far away from the server, far away from all the brutality and the smell of gunpowder in the air.
If only he would have handled the Azidoazide azide properly. If only he would have made sure to secure everything, if only he would have been less carefree.
It was a dumb death, a careless one, a meaningless one.
But for some weird twisted reason, Tubbo couldn't work up the heat to be angry. His time spend alive was just as meaningless as his death and he stayed a hopeless coward even in the end. In a way, it suited him the best, like how he finally grew into his L'Manberg suit after all those years.
When Ranboo wiped off his tears and the burning remained on Tubbo's face, the gut wrecking realization hit him - he was crying as well. His eyes sting from the salty liquid and it irritated his burns so much. He was not supposed to cry in front of Ranboo, Ranboo was not supposed to see his tears, the sadness buried deep withing his soul. but it was okay because Tubbo deserved it. He was a bad person, and awful person, someone who exiled his own friend, then laughed when the news of his death reached him. He deserved this, the pitiful accident, the hard ground under his scared back, the annoying ringing in his ears that made it hard for him to concentrate on Ranboo's soothing, rembling voice.
"Hey, Boo..." he looked up at his husband one more time "Michael... I didn't give him a good morning kiss when I left, can you give one to him?" he smiled at the mention of his son and Ranboo smiled with him, the most pained smile Tubbo had ever seen on his face "And... and... Ask for Tommy's help when it's time for his... his bath, okay? I don't want you to burn yourself again" Tubbo laughed, a humorless pitiful wheeze and nothing more just to fill the silence. Ranboo was crying again.
"Ranboo..." he sighed, closing his eyes. The numbness was biting at his abdomen now and the pool of blood drenching his poorly sewn together coat was getting cold "Can you... can you sing a lullaby for me? I'm getting sleepy"
"Of course, everything for Bee" Tubbo had dreamed of falling asleep to Ranboo singling before, it was a secret no one was meant to know. He was looking forward for the day his husband would not give him the cold shoulder and actually sang him something, even just for a few seconds.
The song was beautiful, if not a bit childish especially for someone on their death bed, and Tubbo quickly recognized it as one of Michael's favorite lullabies he used to sing every night until their son had fallen asleep. Now looking back at it, Tubbo felt guilty for not giving a small kiss to Michael before leaving the mansion this morning. Michael was a good sleeper, he would have just fallen back asleep anyway.
Ranboo's lullaby was not soothing, not in the slightest. His voice was stained and small, scratchy his unused vocal cords nearly screaming at him, jumping between octaves and tempos, choking on the sobs that wracked his lanky body. Both of them laughed a bit after Tubbo's half-hearted "you suck" comment, and for a moment, everything felt normal.
"Hey, hey Boo... you still there?" Tubbo called out, voice unsure and lost. Ranboo held his hand like it was the greatest treasure in the world, soft and firm while his thumb caressed his knuckles softly, ignoring the lack of fingers on his left hand. Tubbo's open eyes were no longer able to see his face.
"Yes Bo, I'm here. I won't go anywhere"
"Can you... Can you tell Michael I'm gonna be late from work?" Ranboo choked "I... I don't want him to stay up waiting for me to come home..."
Ranboo softly placed a small kiss on top of the brunette's forehead, silently playing with the strands of hair - Tubbo really needed a comb, birds could easily use the mess of hair as a nest if they wanted to.
"Of course" he sighed, still humming the melody of Michael's favorite lullaby.
"I... I'm gonna come home tomorrow, okay? I'll see you in the morning. I just... I just got caught up with work"
"Yeah, we will be waiting for you Bo. Me and Michael... And Tommy and Niki and everyone else"
"Boo...?"
"Yes Love?"
"I'm getting sleepy"
"It's okay, go ahead and rest. You deserve it, you had a long day"
Tubbo smiled as Ranboo caressed his cheeks, soft and sweet, caring and so incredibly loving. The touch felt warm, warm like the sweet bread Niki used to bake just for him, warm like Michael's bone crushing hug on his leg, warm like the crackling fireplace in the mansion. Warm like home.
He finally fell asleep.
And Ranboo cried.