Chapter Text
Ranboo sat alone in the treehouse, legs dangling over the side. The sun was behind the trees, casting everything in a dappled orange glow.
He should go back inside in a bit. It was going to get dark soon. He always liked the night. Or at least, he liked it when he wasn’t scared for his life, which happened to be a lot of the time.
When he’d come out here earlier in the day, just after lunch, Tommy and Wilbur were playing some card game, Phil was watching, and Techno was reading. And probably also watching. He wondered if they were still doing that. He doubted it. He’d been outside for hours, judging by the fact that the sun was setting.
His pants were damp. Everything was still a bit wet because of the storm, despite it having ended several days ago.
The living room was blocked off. Repairs hadn’t finished yet. They had barely started. He didn’t like having a hole in the house.
His chair was supposed to come today. He wasn’t sure if it did. He’d been outside all afternoon. They’d ordered it before the storm, but the delivery was delayed because of said storm. He wondered if they’d have to put it together. He didn’t have much experience with building things. Phil would probably help him.
The sun dipped below the horizon. He wondered what darkness looked like to those who didn’t have any form of night vision.
He and Tommy went on the zipline a couple times the previous day. Tommy had shown him how to use it on his own. He’d have to thank Tommy again later, because it made it a lot easier and faster to get back to the house from the treehouse. And it was fun.
He hopped off the platform at the end of the zipline and headed toward the deck. He pulled open the door and stepped inside. Wilbur and Phil were at the kitchen island. Phil was on the kitchen side, leaning back against the counter. Wilbur was on the other side, leaning forward with his arms on the island. The oven was on, cooking something. Ranboo wasn’t really used to that kind of dinner yet.
Tommy and Techno were sitting at the circle table. Techno was still reading.
Wilbur and Phil paused their conversation to greet Ranboo. Tommy kept spinning, but he waved. Techno gave him a small nod, not looking up from his book.
“Hey, Ranboo!” Wilbur said with a grin. “You were outside for a while.”
Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking about things.”
“Usually when people sit outside just ‘thinking’ for that long, it goes south.” There was an unspoken “like you” after “people.”
He shrugged and sat down on one of the barstools. “There wasn’t much else to do before. I’m used to it.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s good.”
“I know.”
Wilbur hummed and after a moment, he continued his conversation with Phil.
He wasn’t wrong. Wilbur usually wasn’t.
Ranboo looked down at his hands, which rested on the cool countertop. At some point, he’d started tapping his fingers against the stone. He wondered what Phil was cooking. Involuntarily, he wondered how much it cost to make. What ingredients were used? Were they expensive? Could he have afforded it before?
Probably not, he decided.
The oven timer went off, making him jump a little. Phil opened up the oven and took out a plate of chicken. Ranboo liked Phil’s chicken. That might just be because he hadn’t really ever had a home-cooked meal before this. That he remembered, at least. He knew his mom made really good mac’n’cheese.
They ate in the dining room. There were mashed potatoes. This was strangely reminiscent of the dinner where Phil told him about magic. Which, weirdly, hadn’t really come up since then. Nobody had really mentioned or used it much, aside from the time Dream came over and mind controlled him, or something. He didn’t really remember what happened. He’d have to look in his memory book later.
When the mashed potatoes were passed to him, he frowned at them. He wished he could just pass them along without getting any. Maybe he could. He didn’t really know how they did things yet. He’d been here for like, two and a half weeks, and most of that time was spent either settling in or panicking. Mostly panicking. A lot had happened. He blamed it on the big change.
Anyways. Mashed potatoes. He didn’t like them.
He still got some, though. Like last time.
Dinner passed in a weird blur. The whole day had been weird, really. Like it had a light orange bloom effect over it. Mostly the end part. The morning felt normal.
The past few days had been like that, too, just a lot less. He’d spent most of that time in his room, doing… he wasn’t really sure, actually. He’d mostly been on his phone, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he did that whole time.
Today was the first day in a bit that he had spent… any time, really, somewhere other than upstairs.
He could think more about that tomorrow. It was getting late. He should get ready for bed.
---
Tommy woke him up the next morning. He couldn’t even get mad, because lately, he’d been sleeping in a lot later than usual. Of course, to him that meant around 8:30, but still. It was late compared to sunrise.
He’d had a dream about drowning. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a nightmare. He hadn’t felt panicked. Weird, considering he very much didn’t like the idea of drowning, even if you didn’t bear in mind his hybridity.
It didn’t hurt like waterburns did. Well, he was pretty sure. Pain wasn’t really a thing in dreams. It made him wonder if he would like swimming if water didn’t hurt him. It would probably be nice.
Tommy shook him again. He groaned and pulled his blankets up over his head. He accidentally pulled the blankets off of his foot in the process. Darn.
“Ranboob. Wake up.”
He uncovered his face and stared at the space between Tommy’s eyes.
“Dad made pancakes.”
“What if I don’t want pancakes?”
“Have you ever even had pancakes?”
“Does that matter?“
“So no.”
“Yes.”
“Yes? As in, yes you have had pancakes?”
“I have not. Can I go back to sleep?”
“It’s 10.”
“It’s what? ”
“10. In the morning.”
Ranboo pulled the blankets back over his face. “Do I have to get up?”
“No, but Dad’s making pancakes.”
“And?”
“They’re good.”
He sat up, not without giving Tommy a frown. “Fine.”
He let Tommy pull him downstairs and to the kitchen island, where a plate of pancakes (and Phil, Wilbur, and Techno) waited for them. He pointedly kept his gaze away from the living room. It wasn’t really much of a living room right now.
He sat on one of the stools and grabbed one of the plates already sitting out. He carefully took a pancake after Tommy and put it on his plate. He wasn’t really sure what to do with it. People usually put syrup on their pancakes, right? Yeah. He looked over to Tommy to see what he was doing, and immediately decided that he probably shouldn’t use Tommy as a role model. The boy was patting down a layer of some brown stuff with a spoon. Like, a whole layer of the stuff, right on his pancake. It was as thick as the pancake itself. Tommy then grabbed the maple syrup and poured it on top of that.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to eat pancakes, is it?”
Tommy scoffed. “Of course it is. Most people just can’t handle the deliciousness.”
“Got it. It’ll make me sick.”
“Good instincts,” Phil said, laughing.
Ranboo smiled and reached for the syrup bottle to pour a normal amount on his pancake. He had a bit of trouble cutting it up, but he managed it. It tasted amazing. A lot of things he’d eaten lately did. Maybe it was because he could actually take the time to taste it. Or the quality was just better. Both, probably. Phil was really good at cooking, though he wasn’t really the best judge of that. He only really ever ate Hypixel food and fast food. And things from Niki’s bakery. She always gave him a discount.
“So,” Wilbur spoke up, leaning back against the counter far enough to look at Ranboo upside down. He was also eating a pancake like it was a sandwich. “Magic. We haven’t really talked about it much with you, except that one night.”
Ranboo paused, his fork of pancake hovering halfway between the plate and his mouth. “Why are you bringing it up right now?”
“We’re all here.” Wilbur spun around so he no longer had to look at Ranboo upside down. “And I’ve been wanting to ask for a bit.”
“Ask what?”
“Do you have any idea what your magic might be?”
Ranboo laughed. “I don’t think I have magic, honestly. If I did, it probably would’ve shown up by now.”
“Tommy’s only came around when he got here. Usually it shows itself when you’re about 8 to 10. Tommy was 12. Closer to 13 when he discovered his magic, actually. What I’m saying is, It could just be waiting until you’re in a place where you can actually deal with it.”
“Deal with it?”
“Yup. If you’re in a rough situation that’s not like, immediately life threatening, it’ll keep itself from showing. And you’ve been in a rough situation for a while now, yeah?“
“...yeah, I have. Yeah.”
---
Ranboo sat in the lounge, holding his legs close to his body. He watched as Tommy played some video game about farming. He was kind of bored. Absent-mindedly, he reached for his phone and turned it on.
-
[crime house]
beetch: hello
i am bored
-
It seemed Tubbo had the same problem he did.
-
memory boy: lol me too
beetch: :o
cmere
to my house
memory boy: i dont know where it is
beetch: ph yeah
tomy knows ask him
-
“Tommy?”
Tommy looked back at Ranboo. “Yeah?”
“Tubbo wants me to go over to his house.”
“Without me? Fucker.”
Instead of answering Ranboo’s unspoken question, Tommy turned his game off and got up to go downstairs. After a minute or so, he came running back up the stairs.
“Dad said we could go over! Do you wanna ride bikes over or do you want Wil to drive us?”
“Uh, drive.” He didn’t really want to go bike riding after what happened last time. Maybe next time.
“Got it. I’ll go bother Wil, then.”
“Wait-”
Ranboo barely got to say anything before Tommy barrelled down the hall and into Wilbur’s room. He could hear Tommy’s voice from the lounge, making him laugh. Soon, Tommy came back out, dragging Wilbur behind him.
“Let’s go, Ranboo! To Tubbo!”
-
memory boy: we’re on our way :D
beetch: pog
wait “we” ?
memory boy: tommys coming
beetch: o
pog
-
Wilbur stopped the car on the side of the road, and Tommy hopped out. Ranboo did the same, and as soon as he’d stepped onto the grass, Wilbur drove off. Tommy ran up to the door, jumping over the small bushes along the path from the driveway. Ranboo walked down the driveway instead.
The door was already unlocked, so Tommy threw it open without even knocking. Ranboo followed and closed the door behind him.
“Tubbo! We’re here!”
Tubbo ran down the hall and skidded to a stop in front of them. “Tommy! Ranboo! Hi!”
Ranboo waved. Tommy pulled Tubbo into a hug. “It’s been a bit! I haven’t seen you since before that storm!”
“I’ve been lonely without you guys.” Despite the (very fake) sadness dripping from Tubbo’s words, he was grinning.
“I am never lonely, due to all the girlfriends I have,” Tommy replied. “What a sad life you must live.”
“Shut up. Anyways, come to my room. I’m bored still and I wanna do things with you.”
Not waiting for an answer, Tubbo turned and went back down the hall. Tommy went after him, and Ranboo trailed behind. He’d never been in Tubbo’s house before. It was nice. Not that he could really say anything about that. For all he knew, this could just be a normal house. His childhood home wasn’t… the nicest. It was home, though. Was. He hadn’t lived there in almost a decade. He wondered who lived there now.
He shook his head and followed Tommy into Tubbo’s room. Man, he needed to stop zoning out so much.