Work Text:
Tubbo remembers almost nothing from before the age of seven, when Phil adopted him.
Flashes of baby blue and light brown, hunger pains, the smell of cheap alcohol. Pink-red eyes.
The memories were pushed back, lost in the better times. Tubbo never missed the years he had forgotten, until Manburg. His time under Schlatt caused those memories to change, and Tubbo didn't know why.
The calming baby blue turned to harsh navy.
The gentle sunshine brown turned into a dark mess.
Loving pink eyes, the only clear part of the face, changed to a hateful blood red.
Tubbo suddenly wanted the calm colors back, but they were gone. The colors of sweet memory were gone, replaced with light greens and pale yellows and loving blues.
"Off to work!" Tubbo called over his shoulder.
"Can you drop Micheal off at Tommy's?" Ranboo ran to catch him.
"'Course," Tubbo touched his hand to the Enderman in a soft gesture. Calling his son, who thankfully was already ready, they headed out the door.
"Say bye-bye to Papa," Tubbo grabbed his son's hand.
"Buh-bye Papa!" The toddler waved happily. Turning to his father, he asked, "Can we go to Eapai Phil's house today?"
"No, Dadza is busy today. We're going to Uncle Mimi's today," Tubbo explained, guiding his son through the trees.
Micheal jumped up and down excitedly. "An' Shroud!"
Tubbo laughed. "Yes, but you have to remember, Shroud is very little," The ram turned to explain to son, "You can't play with Shroud yet. And you have to do everything Uncle Mimi says, and you have to be quiet while Shroud sleeps, okay?"
Micheal nodded. "Okay, Dada. I can remember." He said solemnly.
His face looked so seriously determined, and Tubbo had to hold in a laugh. They reached Tommy's, and Micheal ran ahead to knock excitedly on the door.
Tommy opened the door and lifted Micheal in his arms.
"Uncle Mimi!" Micheal tapped his head against his uncle's, something he had learned from Tubbo.
"Micheal!" Tommy gently bonked his head back, before turning to his brother. "And hello to you too," he said, bonking his head to Tubbo's as well.
"'Ello big man," Tubbo declined Tommy's invitation inside. "Thanks for watching Micheal, I know you're busy but Dad is busy and both me and Boo have work-"
"Ay, don't sweat it man. I can handle two kids for a few hours," He reassured, and, turning to his nephew, said, "Plus, I'm sure Micheal is going to be a big help, aren't you?"
Micheal, who had run to his baby cousin, looked up at his name and nodded, pulling his cousin in a hug. "Buh-bye Bee!" He waved, turning back to Shroud, who had started swatting at the piglet's tail.
"Well, guess that means I should leave," Tubbo laughed. He started to say something, but Tommy interrupted.
"I remember, keep the fire on, I still have some potions for him, I know ," Tommy grabbed his brother's hand. "This isn't the first time I've watched him. You're going to be late."
Tubbo smiled. "Thanks,"
Tommy shoved him out of the doorway. "Fucking leave, stop standing here," He joked.
When Tubbo was a little down the road, Tommy called, "Say hi to big Q, k?" And Tubbo waved behind him.
"You're late," Quackity noted when Tubbo ran into the burger shop.
"Sorry, I had to-" He paused. Not many knew about Micheal. He and Ranboo had decided to keep it from people so nobody would threaten him. Quackity was one of those people.
"To?" The duck ruffled his wings to get his employee's attention.
"Um, drop something off at Tommy's," Not a lie, not a tell.
Quackity hummed. "Get to work," he said, turning back to whatever he was doing.
Uneventful hours passed before Tubbo took lunch. Running to the nearby river, he sat and waited.
Ranboo turned the corner and walked to sit next to his husband.
"Hello," they said cheerfully, "And how are you today?" He leaned forward, meeting their husband's head bonk fondly. Ranboo knew Tubbo wasn't a huge fan of intimacy, so any contact was a show of trust.
"Micheal didn't even hug me goodbye," The ram pouted sarcastically.
Ranboo laughed. "Sucker," they teased, earning a shove from Tubbo. "Quackity came to bother us at work again." He changed the subject.
Tubbo groaned. "Wilbur wasn't flirting with him again, was he?" The ram complained. Ranboo looked at him with an expression of what do you think? And Tubbo flopped his head into his knees dramatically.
"Your brother is not quiet," Ranboo remarked, and Tubbo dropped his head into their lap.
"Gross."
"I mean, you are the one on my lap,"
"Shut up." Tubbo sat up and shoved his husband.
"Careful, the water," he warned. Silence fell over them.
"What is the earliest thing you remember?" Tubbo asked.
"This morning."
"You know what I mean, like of your past," Tubbo started daggers, slightly annoyed.
"Dude," Ranboo turned to him and pointed at their head, "Memory loss."
"Nevermind," Tubbo sighed and turned back to his food.
Ranboo paused. "I can remember purple, pale sand, green, blue, and black," they said slowly. "But I can't associate anything. I think the purple and sand were the ground, and black was the sky, but I don't know about the green and blue."
"Dream?" Tubbo questioned, recalling Ranboo's "adoptive" parents, Dream and Techno.
"No," Ranboo said. Tubbo checked the time. He was going to be late again.
Running a hand over Ranboo's arm, he stood up. "I have to go, sorry," He apologized.
Ranboo stood as well and gently pat Tubbo's head. "See you after work, then. I'll pick up Micheal, okay?"
Agreeing, Tubbo turned and ran back to Las Nevadas.
Straight into Karl, knocking both of them over.
"Oh my honk, I'm so sorry, here," Karl held a hand out to Tubbo.
"Thanks," Tubbo grunted, accepting the help. "Where are you off to in such a rush anyway?"
Karl suddenly looked like he was lost. He pulled his fists to his chest and shook them a little, nervous. "The library?" Pressing his back to a tree, he closed his eyes.
Tubbo watched for a minute before walking forward and grabbing the librarian's hands, something he had practiced with Ranboo. "Hey big man, take a breath, okay? You're safe." He reassured, gently squeezing Karl's hands. "Can you tell me your name and where you are? Who am I?"
Karl took a deep breath. "I- my name is Karl Jacobs, I'm in the Forest by Las Nevadas, you are Tubbo," He said slowly.
"Good," Tubbo let go and took a step back, about to head back to work. He was late again.
Karl's eyes opened. They were glassy, like he was somewhere far off.
"Tubbo."
"Um, yes?" The ram turned, to see Karl staring into his eyes. Karl's irides swirled yellow and purple.
"Where are you going?"
"To work? At Q's."
Karl's face softened. It was not reassuring. It was lost. "Your father," Karl said brightly.
Tubbo was taken aback. "N-no, my father is Philza," But even he sounded unsure. He had never met his birth parents. Right?
Karl laughed, his eyes still glassy and swirling. "Of course Quackity is your father. Step-fathers count, silly."
"Phil is my father. Kristen is my mother. You are wrong."
"Mother? Nobody knows who your mother was. Dead, probably. Leaving Schlatt with an infant he was too drunk to care for." And Karl said all of this with a lazy smile, a vacant expression.
Schlatt??
No, it's wrong. Tubbo never met his biological parents. They must have been dead to leave him. Dead, or poor, or-
Drunk. The smell of alcohol.
Busy. The barely-there memories.
Young. The soft and sad red eyes.
If Schlatt was his father, then things line up. The corrupted colors, the anger and sadness, the pain, the smells .
Without staying to help Karl, Tubbo ran. All the way to Las Nevadas, to the burger place, to Quackity's office.
"You're la-" Quackity was cut off by the slam of hands on his desk.
"JSchlatt is my father." It wasn't a question.
Quackity's eyes grew wide and he looked away. In the corner, nearly hidden, Charlie stepped forward. Q held up a hand and it stepped back.
"Y-well, I-" Trying to come up with a response left him stumbling.
"And you're my stepdad," Tubbo's eyes burned like blue flame.
Clenching his fist, Quackity responded, "Yes."
"And you didn't tell me."
"Would you have wanted me to?" Quackity opened his eyes, and Tubbo was shocked by the softness. Guilt . "Sit down, please."
Tubbo collapsed into the soft leather. Quackity stared, expecting an answer.
"No." Tubbo put his head in his hands, eyes welling with tears. "Yet you still kept it from me," Dropping his hands to the desk, and his eyes locked to the floor. "Why?"
Quackity took his hand softly, Tubbo looked up in surprise. "Tubbo. Schlatt didn't know it was you."
Tubbo's gears turned slowly. "Didn't- what?!"
"He never knew you as Tubbo. You know your birth name?" Quackity pulled his hands back, and Tubbo was pulled into a memory.
"What are you doing?!" Quackity yelled, pulling Schlatt backward. Schlatt tugged out of his grip, red eyes burning like blood.
"He had his warning," He snarled, pulling his hand back. Tubbo cowered, backed into a corner. His head was bleeding, his hair soaked red. Matching the shattered bottle laying on the ground beside him.
"He didn't do anything, please!" Quackity cried, grabbing his husband's arm yet again.
"Stop meddling, bitch!" The president threw Quackity on the ground, and he fell with a sucking thud. He didn't get back up. Tubbo choked back a sob. "It's nothing of your concern, anyway," Schlatt got like this sometimes.
All the time.
Drunk.
Punishing.
What did he do this time anyway?
But he knew better than to argue. It always leads to more blood.
With a pain that turned his vision red, Tubbo pulled back. Mentally, that is. Barely feeling, barely hearing.
A flash-forward. An eavesdropped conversation.
Tubbo walked to bring the report to Schlatt. He couldn't remember what it was, but he didn't want to get in trouble.
Approaching the door, he heard voices. Flattening to the wall, he hid. And listened. He was a spy, after all.
"You can't keep treating him like this, señor," Quackity sighed. The sound of a slap echoed, making Tubbo flinch. Quackity said nothing.
"Why? He's my secretary, and you're my vice. You have no right to tell me what to do,"
A moment of silence that Tubbo barely held out for.
"It will just end up like last time," Quackity said. Schlatt remained silent.
"What are you talking about?"
"With Tu- I mean, your son," Quackity pulled in. Tubbo could tell by his voice that he slipped. Messed up.
And Tubbo was proven right. A smash and a shout.
"NEVER. NEVER BRING HIM- THAT UP." Schlatt yelled. Quackity shouted in pain and went silent. Tubbo covered his mouth.
He placed the reports down on the floor and ran. Quackity's face was covered with a mask for the next month.
Tubbo stared at Quackity. The duck stared silently back. His eyes flicked to the scars covering the boy's face.
The ceremony.
Pushed out by trauma, Tubbo remembers almost none of it.
"I want you to kill him,"
Tubbo banged on the box walls.
"But-" Techno stuttered, glancing at the box (and his little brother) with an emotion Tubbo had never seen on him before.
He recognized the emotion now. Fear.
"Do it."
Techno flinched, rubbing at the cuff scars on his wrists.
"Now."
And Techno snapped. Eyes glossed over, he pulled out the crossbow and loaded it. The crowd erupted when the first one went off.
"TUBBO!" Phil shouted, reaching out but too far away.
Everyone else faded by the second shot.
But now Tubbo remembered his last moment of consciousness
The most pain of his life. A ringing in his ears. His vision, blurry with pain and red with blood.
"AGAIN!"
BANG
"TOBY! NO, ESPERA!" Quackity screamed, running to him, only to be stopped by someone. "PLEASE, SCHLATT NO, WAIT! TOBY!"
Schlatt's face, blurry, fell. Turning to look at Tubbo, he backed up a step.
Then it was black.
"Toby," Tubbo looked Quackity in the eyes.
"I am sorry Tubbo. I couldn't tell him it was you, I didn't know how he'd react, I-" the duck was cut off when Tubbo pulled him into a hug. Awkwardly leaning over the desk.
They stood like that, silently, for a few minutes. Quackity pulled back, looking Tubbo in the eyes. Tubbo held back tears and pulled out of the duck's grasp.
"S-sorry," He mumbled. Quackity felt himself break.
Quackity remembers when Schlatt brought a baby to his old house, asking for help.
"What the hell? What do you want me to do?" Standing at the door, he puffed out his feathers and spread his wings, blocking the door.
"I don't know!" Schlatt's voice was hushed, as the baby was asleep.
"Why'd you come to me anyway?" Quackity hushed his voice as well, but only because it was the middle of the night. "What makes you think I can help with a baby ?"
"You were the only person I can come to, Quackity." And he sounded so broken.
"What's his name, at least?"
"Toby."
And now the same little boy, now much older, was crying in his office.
Walking around the desk, Quackity pulled him into another hug. "It's alright, you're okay, cariño, cálmate, shh" He reassured quietly.
After a while, Tubbo pulled back. Opening his mouth, Quackity interrupted him.
"Take the day off," He said, almost stern. "You need it."
Tubbo stared and opened his mouth again.
"Q, I have something I need to ask- tell?- you," The ram explained what happened with Karl.
"I'm sorry, I know you aren't really talking to them, er, him, but I thought you might know…" he trailed off at the look on the president's face.
" ah verga ," He mumbled, walking to sit at his desk. Writing something down, he turned to Slime and whispered something in its ear. Nodding, the creature melted into the floor, scaring Tubbo.
Quackity laughed at Tubbo's reaction. "He does that," the duck reassured and shoved the ram out of his office. "Now go home, vete,"
Tubbo laughed quietly. "Thanks, Q," He mumbled sincerely, brushing his fingers over Quackity's. After a pause, Tubbo grabbed the back of his boss's neck and bumped their heads together, before turning to leave.
Quackity stood at the door. Remembering how Schlatt did that to a baby Tubbo.
Home, late at night, Tubbo remembers his colors.
Purple sparks and red/green eyes
White bone and pink fur
Green clothes
Blue eyes
And golden duck wings.