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Tubbo wakes up on Christmas morning with a big grin and an exciting plan. He quickly gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen. He assumes Ranboo woke up first, which he often does, and was likely playing with Michael.
But a note on the fridge made him freeze.
“Out with the Syndicate. I’ll message you when I’m on my way home.”
It was just disappointing, he tells himself. They were going to spend the whole time together, celebrating Michael’s first Christmas. Really, their first Christmas as a family. But, hey, it’s not like they’re the only people in Ranboo’s life.
Tubbo pulls the sticky note off the fridge and crumbles it up. Rationalizing it, and the idea that Ranboo’s probably going to be back in a couple short hours, makes him optimistic enough to have a bounce in his step when he heads to Michael’s room.
"Michael!" he cheers. "It's time to wake up."
Michael is already up, which is often the case when Tubbo's sleeping schedule is rather inconsistent. But the day was still anew, full of opportunities. Michael runs over to his father and lifts his arms up.
Tubbo picks him up. "Hey there, little one. Do you know what day it is?"
Michael squeals. Though he doesn't understand their language very well, he's very good at reading his parents and can feel their excitement. "It's Christmas!" he continues. "It's all about spending time together."
His son turns his head to the door, expectant. "Oh," Tubbo says, quieter. "Boo's a little busy today. But you've still got me, right?"
Michael presses his head into his shirt reassuringly. Yes, Tubbo thinks to himself. He's still got me, and we'll have a great time.
He helps him get dressed in his cute Christmas sweater that Tommy had sewed. The sweater is dark green with red candy canes on it. It was a simple design and both of them thought Michael would look adorable in it. Ranboo didn’t really have an opinion.
“Alright,” Tubbo declares, putting his son back on the ground. “I need to message your uncle now. Uncle Tommy may even have a gift for you.” Michael cheers, which makes his grin even wider.
He pulls out his communicator and messages Tommy. Hey boss man, mikey and i are heading over. Ranboo will come later i think, hes just late like a loser lol.
Tommy responds back fairly quickly. See u soon.
Thus, he picks Michael up again and leaves the house, on his way out of Snowchester. Michael doesn’t get to go out that often, so Tubbo always babbles on about the area around them and various things to make it an interesting trip. “It’s cold out,” he says. “It’s a good thing he made you that sweater, huh?”
He thinks Michael enjoys the trip. They soon approach Tommy’s house, which has been decorated for the season. Tommy had added a cobblestone chimney while Tubbo had actually added accents like red and green wool, and some snow on the ground. Tommy opens the door, exclaiming, “Where’s that pig fucker?!”
“Hey,” Tubbo grins. “No fucking swearing.” He hands Tommy the piglin as the two chuckle at the joke.
Tommy has prepared hot chocolate for them, so they each take some with them as they head out of his house and walk around, observing the Christmas decorations everyone’s left out. Punz’s base is always objectively the best looking around Christmas, so they plan to head over there.
Michael drinks his really fast, as the hotness of the drink does not bother him as much as it does for Tommy and Tubbo. “We can come back and make more later,” Tommy says. “I didn’t know he liked hot chocolate that much.”
“Me neither.”
The best part about his time with Michael is that he’s always learning more about him. Recently, he’s even seemed to pick up a couple of words in their language.
The three of them make it to Punz’s base and head over to his christmas tree. Some people have laid presents underneath it, but Tommy and Tubbo had decided to just bring their presents with them.
“I also got something for Michael,” Tommy says, handing out two packages to Tubbo. Michael is currently playing in the snow, moving his arms and legs back and forth.
“You didn’t have to,” Tubbo replies, giving Tommy his present as well. “You already made him that sweater.”
“I’ve gotta be the cool uncle,” Tommy explains. “Michael and I will become best bros and then I’ll steal him away from you fuckers.”
Then a terrible thought strikes. Tubbo doesn’t mean for it to creep in, these feelings of bitterness. Doesn’t seem like it’ll be hard when Ranboo barely spends time with him. Tommy’s more of an uncle to him than Ranboo’s been a father.
For a couple months, Ranboo had seemed like the perfect father, the perfect guy to share this responsibility with. He showered the both of them in gifts and even paid for their mansion. He’d always make time for them.
But then he unexpectedly had a lot of meetings with the Syndicate. It was perfectly fine, but somewhere along the way, Tubbo wondered if those meetings really lasted that long or if Ranboo just simply forgot. That’s a normal thing for him to do, and it’s not like he can fault him for it.
“Um,” Tommy clears his throat. He waves a hand in front of Tubbo’s face and watches him blink. “Tubs, are you okay?”
“I was just distracted,” Tubbo waves it off. “Did you like your present?”
“I already said I loved it. You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re going deaf…”
Tommy continues sharing his opinion on the present, which was more like a care package of his favorite things, like cobblestone, diamonds, and even some enchant books. Tubbo opens up the present Tommy got him.
It was a sweater that his friend had knitted. “Tommy,” he says. “Do you really expect me to wear this?”
Yarn on the sweater sprawled out the words ‘I’m best friends with the Biggest Man and all I got was this stupid sweater.’
He cackles on and on until it seemed like he was running out of breath. “You love it, don’t you? I know you, prick. You’re sentimental.”
It was true, he admits. Other than the actual words, it was sewed together brilliantly and was a deep shade of green that he loves. “I do,” he says.
Tubbo hands Michael’s package over to him, and the kid opens it up quickly. He ends up pulling out a Santa hat. “Aww,” Tubbo says. “I think he’ll love that.”
Tommy goes over to him and helps pull it over the kid’s head. Michael smiles and raises his hands up to the poof ball at the end of the hat, playing with it.
Wonder if Ranboo remembered to get him a present. It’s probably just diamonds again, all last minute.
“What’s up with you?” Tommy asks. “Michael’s detecting the bad vibes, and I don’t think he’ll have that one bit!”
“I wish Ranboo was here,” Tubbo replies, sighing to himself and looking at the ground. The mood suddenly shifts, which was the one thing he didn’t want. He doesn’t want to ruin the Christmas mood for Tommy or Michael, but he couldn’t help it. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t really care much.”
Tommy raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. “I thought you said he was just going to be late.”
How can he tell him that he’s not really sure if that’s true? There are many times where Ranboo has finally come home to Snowchester when both of them are already sleeping. Who’s to say Christmas will be different, especially when it’s clear he’s just spending it with other people?
“Yeah. You’re right.” He smiles sadly. “Let’s walk around more before Michael gets too cold and wants to go home.”
Tommy nods. “No time for divorcing,” he cheers, “it’s Christmas, bitches!”
And it’s a small joke but that word sticks with him as they walk around the SMP. They pass by a couple people, including Jack Manifold, who has renovated the hotel to match the season. “Hey, bitch. How’s running the Innit Hotel?” Tommy questions.
“Manifold,” Jack corrects. “And it’s going lovely, actually! I’ve sold a couple more rooms out to people.” But his voice is all high pitched, like it’s a lie.
Michael makes grabby hands at him, so Tubbo lifts him up and holds him in his arms. “What’s that, Mikey?” he gasps tauntingly. “He just said Jack’s a big smelly liar.”
“Amen!” Tommy laughs,
Jack denies this wholeheartedly, and the three of them genuinely take the time to talk. Jack apparently has plans with Niki soon, which was a bit surprising to Tubbo. He could’ve sworn the Syndicate was going to hang out for at least a couple more hours.
Tubbo explains his confusion, to which Jack elaborates. “The meeting was pretty quick and they exchanged gifts, I think,” Jack says. “Niki got out of it a bit ago and just went back to her base to get some shit.”
“It’s… done?” he asks. “Are you sure?”
Jack nods. “Mhm. Niki messaged me just about half an hour ago. She keeps me updated.” It must start to dawn on him what the problem is.
Tommy jumps into the conversation, looking awkward. “Uh, maybe the others stayed longer,” he offers. “I’m sure Techno and Phil will at least. Ranboob’s too much of a bitch to say no.”
He says no to us pretty regularly.
Tubbo feels too stunned to really keep up the conversation, which Tommy takes note of. He finishes up talking to Jack and they walk together with Michael down the prime path. “Are you okay?”
“Let’s bring Michael home,” he says. His eyes are watering a bit, and maybe there’s a hitch to his voice, but he’s always been pretty good at holding back his sobbing and just making it quieter.
He knows that they’re so close that Tommy must hear it anyway, but they walk in silence. “Do you want me to… hold him?” he asks.
Tubbo hands him over, nodding.
That meeting ended a while ago, and Ranboo still hasn’t messaged him. He knows this because he had checked his communicator right before they made it to the hotel. He's made no effort to reach out and no effort to spend Christmas with them.
Tubbo holds himself for quite a while, all things considering. Once they make it back to Snowchester, they spend a bit more time playing with Michael before it's time to send him off to bed. Tommy helps him tuck him in and they tell him a story.
The story Tommy tells oddly seems to have a main character that acts a lot like Ranboo, with a whole mocking voice and everything. It makes him laugh a couple times.
Michael eventually falls asleep and the two head out of his room, shutting the trapdoor gently.
"We should talk," Tommy says gently. "If you want to, I mean."
They've both accepted Ranboo's not coming.
"No, it's just…" Tubbo sighs. "It's not like I need his help parenting. Michael's not a handful."
"But he should be here," Tommy points out. "Michael's his son, too."
“Sometimes, I look around the walls of his room and I feel like crying,” Tubbo admits. It feels like a distraction from the initial point, but it’s all too connected. “You’ve seen those fucking paintings. It’ll never be like that again.”
The two of them leave the house, not knowing what to expect out of this conversation. And Michael is sleeping; what kind of people would they be if they woke him up?
“It can be,” Tommy offers. “I can speak to him, y'know. Tell him off for being such a dickhead.”
“It’s not that easy.”
Maybe Tubbo could excuse if he’s just a bit more distant, but a part of him feels… selfish, betrayed even. Was it wrong of him to hope they were worth remembering? That they were worth even a thought in Ranboo’s mind?
Things haven’t even necessarily been the same between Tommy and him anymore, due to the many unspoken things like exile and all the bloodshed. But he can at least see that Tommy cares, that he gives a shit about their friendship, that he’s willing to work through the unknown because they’re worth it. Ranboo hasn’t acted like that in a while, but it’s hard to express this in a meaningful way other than “sometimes, he’s not here and I wish he was”.
“He wasn’t even there for Michael’s first word.”
He remembers it vividly. Another lone day, probably a Wednesday. They were about to take a walk around Snowchester, but Tubbo was making sure he wouldn’t be too cold and was more comfortable.
Michael had asked for his dad, his Boo.
It was one thing for Tubbo to miss him, but when Michael noticed his absence enough to make it his first fucking word, first question, even, there was a problem.
How could he look at him and shrug, not knowing whether he was even coming that day?
Tommy didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He would open his mouth, like he had figured out maybe a defense, and then end up closing it.
“What else will he miss?” Tubbo questions. “Is he going to spend New Year’s with us?”
“New Year’s is rubbish anyway,” Tommy says. “All the celebrating, the… Yeah, I figure we would find something else to do.”
Instead of letting him wallow in his feelings, Tommy decides they’ll go on a fun adventure. The night wasn’t over yet.
"Help me get rid of all my decorations," Tommy says. "Maybe we can get some stuff up for New Years."
"You're so lazy," he replies, but he's smiling already.
It turns out destroying shit is rather cathartic. Usually, he just avoids his emotions by investing in a project, by creating. But he thinks destroying things makes him indulge in his feelings. Tubbo’s not really sure if either are particularly healthy, but he’s never been great at that anyway.
They take off most of the decorations, leaving Tommy’s house to be the small cobblestone house that they’re used to. Honestly, neither of them are too keen on decorating for New Years, so they just put some signs down.
As the sun sets, they decide to sit on the bench and listen to a music disc. Instead of the usual, Tommy pulls out a copy of Pigstep. The music is banging, so the two dance to the beat but in a very lighthearted manner.
“His name is Ranboo and he is a bitch,” Tommy starts rapping. Tubbo bops his head, his shoulders already shaking in laughter. “He is the biggest pussy I have ever met.”
“Vouch!”
As Tommy continues rapping passionately, Tubbo feels a lot better than he did before.
Realistically, he knows he’s going to feel shitty about this for a while. He’s going to have to probably confront Ranboo about it, but he knows he has support. Even if things do not work out for them, he does believe Ranboo loves Michael and would still help out with him.
And they managed to have a decent Christmas despite the lack of his presence. They had nice hot cocoa, exchanged gifts, met up with Jack, and he was sure Michael was still ecstatic.
Once the music fades and Tommy stops rapping, Tubbo wraps him in a hug. The blonde teenager lets out an oof sound. “Thank you so much,” Tubbo says. “I had a really good time.”
“Me too,” Tommy smiles, patting his back. “It was…”
And they simultaneously said, “Bitchin’.”