Chapter Text
Ranboo woke up sitting beneath a tree, which was decidedly not where he had gone to sleep last night, tucked comfortably into his bed.
His heart crawled into his throat.
He sat up, searching around for familiar landmarks.
Within sight through the trees was Tommy, sitting back on his heels and wiping sweat from his brow but really only succeeding in smearing dirt across his face. Weeds had been torn up in firstfuls and tossed to the side, entire bushes uprooted, all to make room for another one of his haphazard paths.
"Uh, good morning," Ranboo said, based on the gentle golden light coming at a slant through the branches and the soft birdsong.
Tommy whirled around, hands coming up curled in fists, like he did everytime someone startled him. Before Ranboo could blink, he relaxed and said,
"Oh, hey Ranboo. Welcome back."
"Uh, yeah… I just wanted to stretch my legs," Ranboo joked, heading over to Tommy. He checked the time, wondering how long he'd been enderwalking since going to sleep.
"Fat lot of walking you've been doing. Clementine got bored and ran off ages ago," Tommy complained, and then added, "You've been out maybe an hour." He pointed back down the path, all freshly turned dark dirt and hexagonal stones. "I made some good progress."
"Looks good, man," Ranboo told him, and he wasn't even lying. Tommy's first paths had been atrocities of loose ground stones and sticks, which Phil had agonized over until he snapped and redid them in actual stepping stones. He'd left huge piles of the stones behind the laboratory shed for Tommy to use.
"I know," Tommy said. "Let's go get breakfast."
Inside, Tommy elbowed him out of the way to scrub the dirt off his hands.
Ranboo sorted through the fridge, trying to decide what to make.
"What should we have? I'll make it, since you had to follow me, and stuff."
Tommy scoffed.
"I was already awake, and I needed to make that path anyway. Let's go see if we can make Phil do breakfast."
Tommy kicked Phil's door open and bellowed, "Phil!" so loud Ranboo heard Tubbo howl in rage down the hall.
Phil sat bolt upright, hair smashed flat on one side, and mumbled something close to, "Is everyone okay?" while trying to peel his eyes open.
"We're hungry," Tommy said. "Feed us."
Phil flopped onto his back and groaned.
Tommy got just close enough to put a hand on Phil's bed and shook the mattress violently.
"Phil, Phil, Phil," he chanted.
Phil groaned again.
"Five more minutes," he begged.
"I'm hungry now. You're always preaching to me about eating a proper amount of food to fuel my growth. Phil. I'm going to starve," Tommy whined.
Ranboo smothered a laugh behind one hand and joined in with,
"C'mon, Phil, my height's working against me. I'm wasting away as we speak. I don't know if I'll even make it back downstairs…"
Phil made a pathetic noise.
"Please, Phil," Tommy begged, and his voice squeaked when he said it, so of course Phil was done for.
"Fine, I'll make breakfast," he groaned, kicking half-heartedly at the foot of the bed. "Stop that. You're such a gremlin child."
On the walk downstairs, Phil shuffled in their wake like a particularly friendly zombie. Tommy walked backwards just to point and laugh at him.
From inside Tubbo's room there was a screech of, "Why do you always have to be so damn loud?" and a shoe came soaring through the crack in the door.
Tommy ducked it, laughing harder, but Ranboo had not expected Tubbo to throw something and so was caught right in the shoulder. He yelped and doubled over, clutching the throbbing point of impact.
"You hit Ranboo, you bitch!" Tommy yelled, even as he caught Ranboo and, still laughing, peeled his protective hand away to test carefully at the quickly forming bruise with two fingers.
Tubbo appeared in the doorway, still in yesterday's clothes, a blanket draped over his shoulders.
"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, Ranboo. Are you okay? I wasn't aiming for you."
Ranboo shot him a thumbs up.
"Don't throw things at people," Phil said, firm if a tad delayed thanks to how close to sleep he still was. "And don't forget to change into fresh clothes."
Tubbo often forgot they had a washer and dryer and wore the same outfit for days on end; Tommy had gone the other direction and would often do frivolous loads for a single sock. Ranboo had never considered laundry a luxury before he met them.
"You okay, Ranboo?" Phil asked.
He gave him a thumbs up too.
"Ranboo's probably gonna want pancakes after this," Tommy said. "The really fancy ones, with the cream and the strawberries. For his health."
Suspicious, that sounded like Tommy's secret favorite food.
Chuckling, Ranboo said, "Uh-huh. I think they'd make me feel way better, Phil."
Phil just sighed and abandoned them to go downstairs.
The three of them sat expectantly at the table while Phil cooked, occasionally complaining about their bare plates and empty bellies just to hurry him along.
The front door creaked open and Clementine came charging in, covered in mud.
Tommy dropped down to the floor to hug her.
Technoblade came trudging after her.
He blinked at the scene.
"Why're you all up so early?" He laughed. "Phil, why are you still in your stupid creeper pajamas?"
"Because this house is full of little shits," Phil said. "I was conscripted into making breakfast against my will. I was held at gunpoint, actually."
"Cool. There's enough for me, right?"
Phil grumbled something unkind under his breath, but nodded anyway.
Tommy snuck pieces of his breakfast to Clementine; Ranboo saw Technoblade do the exact same thing and shoot Philza an innocent look when he was caught in the act.
When she made it to his side of the table and laid her head in his lap, he gave her ear scratches instead. Her tail thumped against the floor, so he figured she wasn't too upset at the trade.
She moved on to Tubbo next, turning on the charm with her big brown eyes, but his plate was already clean and he was busy dodging stabs from a syrup-soaked fork as he tried to steal off Tommy's plate. Ranboo moved some of his own food onto Tubbo's plate, which he thought would stop the fight, but instead Tommy snatched it and the whole thing turned into an all-out scuffle.
Technoblade read peacefully while Phil propped his head up on his coffee cup, eyes closed.
Once done, Tommy and Tubbo kept up a facade of civility until their plates were in the dishwasher. Then Tubbo shoved Tommy and took off. Ranboo chased after them into the forest, Clementine on his heels.
On one of the older paths he lost them.
"They're fast, huh, Clementine?" he said, bending over to pant. Clementine wasn't very fast, all gangly adolescent limbs and over-large paws. Her floppy ears perked up and she looked between the trees. He turned to look where she was looking--and got a chest-full of Tubbo.
He went tumbling with a cry of surprise.
"Surprise, bitch!" Tubbo yelled.
"Yeah, get him!" Tommy shouted, adding his weight to the pile.
Ranboo wheezed.
One of Tubbo's hands snaked around his head, shielding his open port from the grass, even as a knee dug into his ribs. Tommy stole one of his shoes and whooped in victory.
They both hopped off.
Ranboo stayed sprawled where he'd fallen.
Tommy poked him with a toe.
"C'mon, you're boring when you're all floppy," he complained.
Ranboo tried to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up and stayed stubbornly silent.
"Fine, we'll give the shoe back," Tubbo said, and Tommy stuffed it back on his foot.
Ranboo couldn't contain his smile then, but not because he had his shoe back; no, Tubbo had sidled closer.
Ranboo surged up and caught him around the middle, swinging him off his feet. He yowled. Ranboo used his flailing to keep Tommy at bay.
He tripped over Clementine and they went down in a heap for the second time. All three of them wrestled back and forth until Ranboo cried uncle.
Ranboo rolled onto his back and gasped for air.
"You gangly motherfucker," Tubbo hiccuped around laughter.
Tommy dragged himself up and nestled in the roots of a nearby tree, Clementine in his lap.
"I think we need a post-breakfast nap. I've been awake for ages anyway," he said.
"Big men do need their rest," Tubbo agreed, stretching out in the grass as if he planned to stay there.
Ranboo sat up and picked grass and twigs from between his metal plating. Tubbo made grabby hands in his direction so he handed him his tail, which he set about cleaning out with great concentration, humming as he did. Tommy huffed and dislodged Clementine to get close again, sitting behind Ranboo and helping to get twigs out of his shoulders.
Ranboo's plates, luckily, were durable enough to withstand a little play-fighting without bending. Technoblade told him they probably wouldn't bend for anything less than getting hit by a car, which Ranboo didn't plan to test. There were gaps, however, down to naked wiring, that forced Ranboo to avoid water and be cautious about what dropped through.
Once he was out of danger, he lay back, pillowing his head on the soft grass. Tommy used Clementine as a pillow.
Ranboo woke up, blessedly, where he had drifted off, except one of his arms was numb under Tubbo's head. He carefully pulled it out and sat up.
Tommy was curled up in a ball against Clementine, who lifted her head and woofed when she realized he was awake.
"Shh!" he hissed, but it was too late; Tubbo jerked awake and Tommy was quick to follow.
Tommy glanced up at the sky.
"Ugh," he said, squinting against the sun.
Ranboo laughed.
"We were only napping for like an hour," he said.
"Speak for yourself. I was keeping an eye out for bears and shit," Tommy said.
"Pretty sure that's Clementine's job," Tubbo pointed out, stretching and stumbling to his feet. "I have things I wanted to do today, c'mon."
"I have things to do too!" Tommy said, like it was a competition. "Actually, Ranboo, I need your help. Your noodle arms can carry things, right?"
"Hey! I'll have you know, my noodle arms are exceptionally strong," Ranboo said. It was true; thanks to all the metal he heaved around attached to his bones all day, everyday. Free weightlifting.
"Good. Then you'll help me, right?"
It couldn't be any worse than when he'd tried to make the world's smallest battery with Tubbo. Talk about a big boom.
"Of course. I'd be happy to help," he said, which made Tommy roll his eyes, but he still muttered a thanks before leading the way behind the lab.
He stacked stepping stones into Ranboo's arms.
The path they walked was out of the way, winding between trees and shaded by leaves, looping back on itself before eventually ending below a large pine tree. There was already something at the base; a ring of stones stacked up in a shaky, miniature house.
"Drop them there," Tommy said. He stood staring at the tree, fists clenching and unclenching.
Ranboo waited him out. He was sweating bullets, standing off to the side, because this seemed important. This seemed like Tommy deliberately including him in something. And for someone who hated him encroaching on a friendship so much that Ranboo now had a platonic husband, this was big.
"I was thinking of making Wilbur a memorial," Tommy finally admitted. He was already bristling when he added: "I know Tubbo and Phil think I shouldn't but they don't know jack shit, okay? I need to remember him some way."
"Of course," Ranboo said, heart aching.
Tommy blew out a breath through his teeth.
"I just figured--you're good at that design shit, right? I figured you could help me make something that looks good."
Right.
No pressure.
Ranboo could do this.
"I can do that. I, uh. What are you envisioning?" he asked.
Tommy shifted from foot to foot.
"I don't know. He liked cities. He liked to wax poetic to me about skylines. And he liked music and booze too but those aren't really memorial material. Well, maybe the music is… what am I supposed to do? Make a guitar out of rocks?"
"Hey, we can totally work with that. What if instead of building the memorial up, we inlay it into the ground? Like your paths." He crouched down to dismantle the stone hut, hesitating long enough that Tommy waved him on. "Make a city skyline inside a guitar. Like so."
The depiction was clumsy at best, but it was hard to work with such big stones.
He sat back and waited hopefully for Tommy's input.
Tommy nudged one of the stepping stones into alignment with his foot.
"Not half bad," he said, and he sounded relieved, as if the question of what to do had been weighing on him for weeks. "I bet I could get Techno to cut these into shape for me. If there's one thing I can respect the pig for, it's that he never asks questions."
Ranboo laughed.
"Yeah, he kinda hides behind Phil for those sorts of things. I'm glad you like my idea."
"Yeah, well, a good businessman like myself recognizes a good idea when he sees one," Tommy said. "Let's go."
Together, they lugged armfuls of stones to Technoblade's shed, and Tommy harassed Technoblade until he cut the stones to shape just to be left alone.
At least, Ranboo thought he wanted his solitude.
"Ranboo," Technoblade said, when Tommy was already out the door with his new rock skyline. "Hang on."
Ranboo turned around and came back.
He worried at his port with one hand, wondering what was wrong.
"You've been enderwalking a lot, lately," Techno said, at length. "You good?"
Ranboo cringed.
Back when Technoblade and Philza first found him, he dropped in and out of enderwalking so often he became used to only having half the hours in a day as his own; but eventually it calmed down.
Tommy and Tubbo were some sort of catalyst.
Maybe stress was the culprit; just like it made him sick and dizzy, maybe it could make his mind slip away and his mods take over.
"I'm okay," he said. "Tubbo and I are working on it."
Technoblade shuffled uncomfortably.
"Are you sure that isn't why it's gotten worse?"
"I--no, no. Remember, it started happening before they came with us, when Dream died," he said. Their experiments never hurt. Honestly, it was a lot of sitting around and monitoring outputs. Philza and Technoblade's work had been more thorough, but also scarier, and he'd decided he couldn't handle it any more and settled with what he had--which had clearly been a temporary fix.
"Don't do anything stupid," Technoblade said, probably thinking about the same thing.
Ranboo grinned.
"Don't worry, I'll be safe."