Chapter Text
Technoblade is weird, the port said. Technoblade is dangerous, the town said. The town can shut up, Technoblade said. He couldn't care less for what this tiny town has to say, it's all the same. The people in this tiny town love to gossip, and whatever poor soul has an ounce of an oddity, they'll be talked about like they're nothing more than a scary urban legend, their names whispered around the campfire.
He can't wait to leave this no-good tiny town once and for all. He just needs two more paychecks and then he'll take a ferry across the ocean to the bigger towns where he'd work some more, get a better house, live his life how he wants.
Hopefully, the last few paychecks can take all five of them across the ocean. Techno is the second oldest of the household, the first being a man named Wilbur who works for the town's newspaper. The third oldest is a young boy named Tubbo who works in a bakery run by Niki, who is very sweet. And lastly, Tommy helps Wilbur with selling the newspaper.
Though recently five became six when Tubbo brought in a shaking boy, much taller than him, wet from the shore and a head that's bleeding. He looked like a lost stray if Techno was honest.
And the worst part was, the boy didn't even know his name, all he knew was that he was hurt and scared of the water.
He must've been trying to cross the ocean and his boat crashed, Techno thought. Once he was dry and clean, they tried asking him, but the boy couldn't stop shaking.
"R-r-ran-" he stuttered out, his voice hoarse and sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Wilbur winced at it.
The boy slumped over in a wooden chair, his shaking increased and he gave a frustrated groan.
“You can’t speak?” Tubbo asked, his hands hovered over the other’s shoulders,
The boy shook his head.
“So then what do we call you? We can’t just keep calling you ‘boy’ can we?” Wilbur asked, he adjusted his glasses.
“Maybe we should-”
“I got it!” Tommy cut Techno off, “We call him Randal!”
“Why?” Techno deadpanned.
“Well, he was saying something with ‘ran’ in it, and he can’t speak, so... Randal is his name now,” Tommy said as if his words were fact.
“Randal…” Tubbo tested the name, it felt weird to say. “Do you like that name?” he questioned.
The boy looked up in thought for a moment and shrugged.
“Randal it is, I guess,” Wilbur said.
“Can we keep him?” Tommy turned to look at the oldest member of the room.
“Tom-” Techno started, he can feel the headache of double shifts coming on just to feed another hungry mouth.
“What? We can’t just toss him out like trash, it’s raining!” Tommy pointed out the window.
“He has a point,” Tubbo said, tearing his eyes away from Ranboo for a moment.
“So what if he has a point, we can’t afford to feed another person, we barely get by as it is!” Techno argued.
“We don’t have a lot of money,” Wilbur chimed in.
"He can work!" Tommy argued back.
"How? He's injured!" Techno gestured to Ranboo's head.
"H-he'll be fine!" Tommy said, his confidence wavered.
"How? How can he be fine with a busted head and still work?" Techno felt his frustration rise, as much as he loved Tommy, the boy can be stubborn at the worst of times, he thinks.
"Well, what are we supposed to do with him? Toss him out like garbage?!" Tommy shot back.
"No!"
"Then?!"
After that, the house fell silent, and tubbo felt awkward listening to them fight, he placed his hand on Randal's shoulder to comfort him when he wined at the noise.
"I think," Wilbur started, coming in between Techno and Tommy, "I think we let him stay until his head has healed, we get him the medicine he needs, and then put him to work."
"With what money, Wil?"
"That's why I said when he gets better. He can pay us back when he gets the money.” The older one turned to face Techno, blocking the other’s view of Tommy.
He stared at Wilbur’s dark eyes for a moment, looking for some sort of bluff, but when he found none, he sighed.
“Fine. He can stay.” Techno grumbled.
Tubbo and Tommy cheered, when the two boys reached out to hug one another in celebration, Techno interjected.
“But,” he started, “You have to work with me twice a week.”
“What? But you work with smelly fishermen.” Tommy whined.
“Do you want him to stay or not, Tommy?” Techno arched an eyebrow.
“It’s only fair, you’ll work with me, as you do, then work with Techno on Tuesday and Thursday. How does that sound, Techno?” Wilbur asked.
Techno only shrugged and grunted, he could work with that.