Work Text:
Age 14
At age 14, Ranboo is given into the legal care of his sister, Niki, and oldest sibling, Eret.
He’s never had many friends, always the one to stick to the back of classrooms, purposefully getting average grades, always quiet, like he’s trying to dissolve into shadows. He doesn’t remember much of his childhood, the good nor the bad, and he cannot for the life of him figure out if it’s a mercy or a curse.
At age 14, Tommy was officially adopted for the first time in his life. Growing up, Tommy never had the best luck. It seemed the universe was always out to get him for its entertainment, and has seemingly cried mercy on him when he crashes into Wilbur and Technoblade in the city’s largest library.
Up until then, he’s quiet and boisterous at the same time. Never fighting his own fights, but fights and defends others, especially those who are smaller than him with no one in their corner. He is open and vague at the same time, letting people in and then shoving them out and locking the door just as fast.
At age 14, Tubbo is hardened like a veteran. He wakes up with words and screams cloying at the back of his throat, tears coming from nowhere. He never remembers the dreams.
When he was 9, he and his mother were in a car accident, and while he had come out unscathed, his mother hadn’t. Sometimes, he swears he can hear her calling for him, yelling for him to hold on for her. How does he move on?
He doesn’t.
At age 14, all three boys become fast friends. Tommy is loud for the both of them, Tubbo is the one who drags them forward into life and into the light, and Ranboo holds them when they need the quiet comfort. They hold onto each other.
At first, the tradition starts accidentally.
Tommy’s house is the decided to be where they hang out most of the time, what with the blankets and pillows thrown about in the living room, the slightly messy kitchen with cookies on the counter, and the warmth just makes it so easy to relax.
On Thursdays, they pile into the kitchen and eat cookies and sandwiches made by Wilbur (they are decidedly not burnt) and catch up on work they don’t understand. They help each other.
Without fail, each Thursday after finishing, they pile into the living room, and watch movies. Most nights it’s just whatever is already pulled up, but some nights are quieter, when they just need the background noise.
They are warm, a third of each other, gangly limbs sprawled out on the couch and twisted together. Some things you cannot put down are easier to carry with others.
Age 15
At age 15, Tommy gets his first ear piercing, it’s a normal helix piercing, but the jewelry he wears matches what Tubbo and Ranboo wear. Ranboo’s necklace, Tubbo’s bracelet, and Tommy’s helix have the same charm: the earth, the sun, and the moon. They, like these celestial planets, cannot be without the other.
At age 15, Ranboo starts to remember and wishes he doesn’t. At the same time, he starts to forget. He carries a book around with a blue pen attached. It's well worn despite only having had it for one month. The ink runs off the page and onto his arms, sometimes. It’s always in his pocket or backpack.
At age 15, Tubbo learns what it’s like to show emotion to those he loves. He’s terrified, but Ranboo and Tommy make it easier. It starts with light touches on the back, or a ghosted, warm smile. It goes on with longer hugs, an ankle linked under the table. It continues with heads on shoulders, hands clinging together and unwavering.
It ends like this: a love so strong, the universe would be cruel to rip them apart and unknowing of what it is to be a human. To live and to love, to be cold and warm, to hate and forgive. Unchanging and improbable. It would be life itself.
Age 16
At age 16, two boys realize what death is like, and another relives it all over again. It goes like this:
It’s Thursday night and all three boys are curled up into each other on the couch. Over the past 3 years or so, they’ve decorated Tommy’s living room to their liking for this tradition. Along the walls, there are dimmed Christmas lights hanging, each bauble twinkling like small suns. The overhead lights have been turned off. The Christmas tree in the corner shines blue, red, and green. Their handmade ornaments for each other hang proudly on display.
On the TV, the movie Interstellar plays. More often than not, this is the movie they settle on. Ranboo always chooses it, and they simply can’t say no to him.
As they watch Cooper and Professor Brand narrowly escape the waves on the water planet, Ranboo’s phone rings. He frowns.
“It’s Niki,” he says. Which is unusual, Niki always lets Ranboo stay late on Thursdays. She knows he needs this time to unwind. Answering her call, “Hello?” He frowns deeper.
“Yeah… Yeah, I know, but –“ He stops and sighs. Tommy shuffles deeper into his arms, relishing the warmth he and Tubbo give off. “Now?” He sounds crestfallen.
Tubbo feels a small pit open up in his heart, no more than the size of a cherry. Tommy looks the same way.
“Okay, I’m on my way,” he finishes and says goodbye. “I hate to cut tonight short, but Niki says she needs me home now.” The wrinkles in his forehead deepen, and Tommy reaches to smooth them out. Ranboo smiles softly down at him. Tubbo huffs like a dramatic dog, and collapses harder and heavier into Ranboo, like he’s trying to keep him from leaving. All three laugh. “Alright, alright, up and at ‘em, boys. I gotta go.” Pushing Tubbo from his legs and sliding Tommy off his chest, he stands and stretches.
“Did she say why you had to go home so early?” Tommy asks, tucking himself back into Tubbo’s arms. He’s so warm. Ranboo shakes his head no.
“Only said that it was important,” shrugging his shoulders, he walks around the couch and grabs a random hoodie from the coat rack. It’s Tubbo’s.
He snatches up his backpack and slips on his shoes. He walks over and presses a kiss to each of their heads. “I love you guys,” he says adamantly. He smiles and his eyes crinkle like slivers of the moon. “I’ll text you when I get home, capisce?”
“Capoosh,” says the two of them. And they watch him leave.
“Nap time, boss man,” Tommy says, and Tubbo laughs. He lays down with him anyways, and slips into oblivion with the sound of Cooper and Brand nearing the black hole.
2 hours later, they are woken up by Tommy’s family, with swollen eyes. Rubbing the sleep away from their eyes, they get the news.
“Ranboo…” Wilbur says softly, eyes tearing up once again. “He was hit. By a drunk driver. He didn’t make it, and I am so sorry.”
Tommy and Tubbo screamed for their best friend that night. They pass out from exhaustion, and when Tubbo wakes up, he remembers his dreams and wishes he didn’t. Tommy wakes up with a scream stuck in his chest.
Where can they possibly set this burden down? They don’t know.
—
Tommy and Tubbo don’t speak to each other for a year.
At age 17, their best friend will forever be 16.
The last time Tommy and Tubbo spoke to one another was the day before Ranboo’s funeral. It goes like this:
Tubbo’s grief is angry and fiery, like he is the kerosene and death is a match waiting to strike. He chokes on his anger, he cries angry and talks fiercely. His words are whips with barbs and his eyes turn into torches and buildings on fire.
Tommy’s grief is quiet and simmering. He is the winter sun barely coming up on the horizon. His words become cold and icy, his blue eyes that once had so much warmth now look like he has brought the Arctic circle directly into his body. His movements, once loud and joyful, are now stilted and unassuming. He chokes on the snow in his nose and throat, and cries snowflakes like a blizzard.
They are both at Tommy’s house, where it starts and ends. Being around each other without their other third, feels like they are betraying each other, they agreed, once. Oh, how fate is cruel.
After an hour of silence, Tommy starts, “I’ll be showing up early. At the cemetery. If you’d like to join me.” An olive branch, dipped in red blood and wrapped with barbed wires. Tubbo grabs and shakes like he’s making a deal.
Tubbo asks if he can come with.
“I was gonna drag you with me, anyways,” Tommy sighs, wiping his sweaty palms on his sweats. In the living room, everything is the same as it had been on that night.
The couch is untouched, the blankets are still there on the ground from where Tommy had shoved them. Sometimes if Tommy can concentrate, he swears he can see an outline of Ranboo’s body, arms open and a smile on his face. He quickly looks away.
Tubbo and Tommy sit across from each other at the dinner table. They’re in the same room together, not even 8 feet apart, but there is a chasm in between them.
Tubbo shivers. He taps a foreign and unfamiliar beat on the table with his fingers. His whole body is tense. Sometimes, Tubbo wishes he had walked home with Ranboo, too. Call it survivor’s guilt, or a death wish, whatever you’d like. But he shouldn’t have died alone.
Suddenly, the house's warmth seems like it’s pushing him down and he feels like he’s being choked by his clothes.
“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” And that’s it. Tubbo leaves, and Tommy doesn’t stop him from going.
Funnily enough, Tommy doesn’t go with Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t show up to his house at all.
Ranboo’s funeral is on Thursday.
—
2 years later, Tubbo and Tommy are 18, and their best friend is still 16.
Tubbo’s grief slowly goes quiet. He takes off his bracelet and puts it on his dresser. He never puts it on anymore.
He pushes through school alone, graduating in the top five of his class. His father is so immensely proud of him, but it goes in one ear and right out the other. He throws himself into college work, picking his major in Biochemistry, picking the most advanced classes and does more work than he should. He knows if he stops, he’ll think too much, and he can’t handle that.
Tommy’s grief grows. He’s lost two of his best friends, even though only one is dead.
He drops out of school, never having the motivation to go to school anymore or to get out of bed. Wilbur eventually moves out, goes to college and majors in music education, and pursues his own career. He has a girlfriend and her name is Sally.
Technoblade works from home, having already graduated summa cum laude from NYU in English and Greek philosophy. He writes novels and grades his students’ essays. On his days off, he goads Tommy into getting out of bed and sitting in the garden while he prunes his rose bushes and pulls out potato after potato. The sun helps sometimes.
Phil can only do so much, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. He can’t want it more than Tommy wants it. So, in other words, he gives up quietly.
A few months later, it is December, and winter break. Tommy can’t remember the months that have flown, nor can he discern anything that happened.
He lays on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. From downstairs, he can hear Wilbur’s guitar, his fingers quietly plucking the strings. He can hear Phil, Techno, and Sally conversing together easily and laughing. It’s warm in the house but Tommy is so cold.
There’s a knock at the front door and he thinks Wilbur opens it. There are loud greetings from all of them. Tommy wants to sleep.
“He’s upstairs,” Techno says. “It’s been rough for him.” Footsteps coming up the stairwell, he swears it can’t be him. But, no, he’s spent day after day and hour after hour with this person.
Tubbo opens the door, the light from the hallway glinting off his hair. Tommy just stares.
“Merry Christmas, Toms,” is what he says. He closes the door and sits on his bed.
“Why are you here?” Tommy asks. He hasn’t spoken in some time, and it’s obvious. Tubbo shrugs his shoulders and exhales shakily.
He glances up and there’s tears in his eyes. He’s wearing his bracelet, Tommy thinks.
“It’s Thursday night.” Tubbo replies, and something breaks. Shooting up, Tommy grips his shoulders and shoves his face into his neck. They both cry together, long overdue. Holding Tommy closer, Tubbo cries, “I’ve missed you so much, Tommy. You don’t even know.”
Tommy chokes on his tears. “It’s been so hard,” and Tubbo nods. Because of course he understands. All three of them lost each other. But only one is gone forever, and two are still here and solid. It’ll be enough.
Pulling back, wiping Tommy’s tears, he whispers. “We should go see him. He’s gotta be cold.” Tommy nods, tears still flowing but slower.
They walk down the stairs and Tubbo catches Wilbur’s eyes. He smiles sadly, and mouths ‘be safe’. He nods.
Together, they walk hand in hand in the snow to the cemetery.
-
The gravestone reads ‘Ranboo di Amato, loving friend, and blessed brother’.
Tubbo and Tommy stand close together, hands gripped around each other and unwavering.
“Do you remember when he spilled that ice cream on the ground and cried?” Tommy chokes out with a wet laugh. They had gone to the park and gotten ice cream after passing their history exam. Ranboo was so upset about his ice cream that Tubbo had given him another. “And when he accidentally implied Ms. Niko was a whore?” That got a real laugh this time.
Tommy wonders faintly if the cemetery had ever heard a genuine laugh. He doubts it.
“I’m so tired of being sad, Tubbo,” Tommy says. He’s weary and time seems to burn him. “I missed you both.” Tubbo lets go of his hand and wraps an arm around his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for never coming back,” Tubbo apologizes. “And for pushing you away. I should’ve been dragging you with me.” Tommy accepts and forgives.
“We’ll do this together, okay? We’ll get better.” Tommy promises. Stepping forward, he kisses his fingers and rests them on the cold stone. “We’ll come back, Ranboo. We promise.” Tubbo links his pinkie with Tommy’s.
Tugging Tubbo with him, they head back to Tommy’s house.
It’s Christmas, and Tommy misses his family. There will always be a hole there, but some things that you cannot put down are easier to carry with others.
His living room is waiting for him, and it’s Thursday night. They’ve got a movie to catch.