Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re going to be late,” Wilbur said, dropping Tommy’s rucksack on the table in front of him. He pulled a face in return, making no effort to eat his cereal quicker. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day after all, it couldn’t be rushed.

Tubbo had rushed it, all but inhaling his food and then unpacking his bag all over the table for some strange reason, while Fundy, hovering by the front door, hadn’t even eaten. He looked at them all in the kitchen – Wilbur bracing himself on the back of Tommy’s chair to try and bother him into eating faster, and Phil shuffling around the kitchen as he prepared his own breakfast – before silently opening the door and leaving. Tommy gave a mental shrug and turned his attention back to his cereal. Fundy had a tendency to just walk out like that.

“Tomorrow,” Wilbur said, pushing away and strolling over to the counter, “I’m making you sandwiches for breakfast. That way you can eat them as you walk.”

“Don’t make them breakfast,” Phil said, giving Wilbur a tired glare as the coffee machine rattled. “They’re just going to think they can keep getting up late if you encourage their behaviour like that.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tommy said around a mouthful of cereal. “I can run fast.”

“Tubbo can’t, though!” Wilbur said. Tubbo looked up in confusion, eyes darting between the three of them as he tried to catch up with the conversation. “He’s only got little legs!”

“That’s his problem!” he said, waving his spoon through the air. Milk splashed against the floor and he tried to ignore the burning weight of Phil’s stare. “He could just leave,” he continued, “go walk on his own, like Fundy does.”

Wilbur straightened, looking around. “Oh, did Fundy leave?”

“I don’t see the point in going to school, actually,” Tubbo said firmly, his words landing in the conversation like a boulder thrown in a pond. There was a sparkle in his eye that said he knew exactly what he’d done and was delighted with what kind of outrage it would spark, and Tommy braced himself as Wilbur took a sharp breath in.

“Don’t care,” Phil said, stepping forward and collecting Tubbo’s items from the table. “You’re my child-”

“Not really.”

“Legally, you’re my child, and that means if you don’t go to school, I’m going to get in trouble.” He shoved everything into Tubbo’s bag haphazardly and thrust it into his arms. “Which means you’re going to be in trouble, so get.”

“Only a weak leader resorts to threats to convince people to follow them,” Tubbo said, standing from the table and slinging his bag over one shoulder. “I think that applies to parents, too.”

“You wanna see just how weak I am?”

“My point exactly.”

Phil sighed, running a hand over his face. “Tubbo, it is too early in the morning for me to deal with two Wilburs, can you please just go to school?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wilbur asked, folding his arms with the air of someone preparing for an argument.

“Don’t you start.” And then Phil circled the table and gently cuffed Tommy upside the head, which he thought was very unfair. “Stop staring and start eating – or better yet, start moving,” Phil said, before returning to his vigil by the coffee machine.

“You expect me to go to school without having breakfast, father?” Tommy asked, letting his spoon lie untouched in his bowl. “I’m a growing boy, I’ll waste away without three good meals a day!”

Phil sighed and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Every day,” he said, “I wonder what deity I pissed off to deserve you three.”

Tubbo looked around the table before saying, “Probably all of them.”

“That sounds about right.”

Tommy could see the tell-tale signs of Phil losing his patience and he shovelled the last of the cereal into his mouth before shoving away from the table, scooping his bag up from where it had fallen and ignoring his chair where that had also fallen, and wrapping a hand around Tubbo’s wrist to drag him over to the door. “See you this afternoon!” he called.

“Unfortunately,” Phil muttered, picking Tommy’s chair up.

“Don’t rush back on our accounts,” Wilbur said with a grin.

Tommy rolled his eyes and jammed his feet into his shoes. Tubbo had already left and Tommy followed after, slamming the door shut behind him. There were muffled shouts from inside, which Tommy ignored as he started running.

“Aw, you’re actually running?” Tubbo asked.

“Uh, yeah?” He glanced back at Tubbo, who was keeping pace with him and looking thoroughly miserable about it.

“But what’s the point of being on time, really?”

“Phil not being mad at us?”

Tubbo made a face, and Tommy was sure he was thinking about his own father – a man Tommy had never met but Tubbo was sure would be coming back to pick him up any day now. It was really quite sad in Tommy’s opinion, but he’d long since learned that showing any hints he disagreed with Tubbo on the matter of his father would lead to him being frosty for a few days at best, so he tried to keep his face neutral as he looked forward again. Thankfully, Tubbo didn’t keep arguing, so they were able to run in silence.

They made it to the school just as the bell rang, stepping into the throng of first-year students. A teacher noticed their almost-late arrival and gave them a look of utter disappointment but didn’t say a word, which Tommy counted as a victory. He tried to catch his breath as they were all led inside to begin their first day.

~

It was lunchtime, and Tommy was bored. He’d sat through the boring induction and the boring lessons and the boring break that wasn’t even that much of a break, because there was nothing to do except find somewhere to sit and chat with Tubbo, which he could have done at home! And lunch seemed to be more of the same, though he was at least grateful that Wilbur had made sandwiches for him and Tubbo, since the cafeteria food looked naff.

And since they had sorted their food already, that meant they had first pick of places to sit, which Tommy supposed would have been cool if the cafeteria wasn’t crowded and loud and somehow already a mess. He pulled a face and suggested to Tubbo that they find somewhere outside, which he was pretty sure he remembered having benches. It’d be cold, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Tubbo agreed without complaint, and they made their way out.

There were, in fact, benches outside, though they mostly seemed to have been taken over by older kids who’d already had their lunch and were now just whiling away the minutes until they had to go back to the drudgery – a word Wilbur had taught him – of class. Tommy couldn’t see Fundy anywhere; not that he would have sat with Fundy if he had, but it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Fundy at all since that morning, even though they were going to the same school now, and he wondered whether Fundy was already skipping class. He felt a familiar flicker of irritation at just how much Wil let Fundy get away with – but then Tubbo was pointing out a mostly-empty bench and dragging him over and he forgot all about it.

The bench had precisely one person on it, Tommy noticed. He was tall, so he might have been an older student, except Tommy thought he recognised him from the induction, being in their year but the other class. He wondered how he’d managed to snag a bench all for himself – I mean, it really wasn’t fair, was it? So Tommy and Tubbo were well within their right to go over and sit opposite him, as they did.

The kid raised his head as they approached, revealing that he was wearing sunglasses, despite the autumnal sky being overcast as all hell, and a facemask, half-white and half-black. In short, he looked like a right weirdo.

“You look like a right weirdo,” Tommy said, pulling his bag onto his lap but hesitating before grabbing his food. If this guy was a weirdo, maybe it’d be better to find somewhere else to eat.

“Nice to meet you too?” the weird kid said, looking between the two of them. “You’re first-years as well, aren’t you?”

“You’re fucking freaky tall for a first-year.” He reckoned the kid might be as tall as Wilbur if he stood, or maybe even taller, which just wasn’t right. People like him made people like Tommy look shorter, and he was already having a hard enough time convincing people he was 6’3”.

“Yeah, I- I used to play volleyball. Not that that made me this tall, really, but- well, it- I guess it doesn’t really matter, sorry.”

“Tubbo,” Tubbo said suddenly, holding his hand out. “Tubbo Minecraft, legally speaking.”

“Oh, uh-” He shook Tubbo’s hand cautiously. “I’m Ranboo. Enderby.”

“Your name is Ranboo?” Tommy asked, starting to pull his food out. Obviously this guy was a complete weirdo, but not quite weirdo enough to make Tommy willing to give up the bench. “Like Ranboob?”

“No! Well- well, no, my name’s-”

“This is Tommy,” Tubbo said, pointing to Tommy. “Brother.”

“Tommy Brother? That’s a weird name.”

“No, like I’m his brother,” Tommy said. “Idiot.”

“Ohhhh.” Ranboo turned his head between the two of them. “I can, uh… really see the family resemblance?”

“No you can’t.” He gave the guy a withering look, reassessing the guy’s ratio of idiot to weirdo. “Adopted, obviously.”

“Oh, right.”

“We’re friends now,” Tubbo said, piling his sandwich high with crisps. “That’s how this works, you don’t get a choice.”

“You- wha- huh?”

“Hey, I don’t want to be friends with the guy!” Tommy said, staring down at Tubbo, who didn’t even have the decency to look back at him. “He’s fucking weird and creepy-looking-”

“You think I’m creepy-looking?” Ranboo asked, shoulders sagging.

“To be fair,” Tubbo said, squishing his sandwich flat, “you do just look like Slenderman.”

“Oh.”

“And you don’t get a choice either,” Tubbo said, jabbing Tommy in the ribs. It really fucking hurt – Tubbo always used way too much force – and Tommy squirmed away, rubbing his side. “Phil did say we should make more friends. If we don’t make at least one, I think he’s going to start inviting around kids he thinks we’ll like, and he’s old and weird and doesn’t have good taste.”

“He doesn’t have bad taste,” Tommy said, frowning at Tubbo. “He’s friends with Techno, who is objectively awesome.”

“That was obviously a fluke.”

Tommy couldn’t really argue with that. He turned his frown on Ranboo, who was looking between the two of them again, fiddling with his empty crisp packet.

“But him?” Tommy asked. “The guy’s name is Ranboo.”

“I like him.” He punctuated his words with a crunch as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“You would. You’re both fucking weird,” Tommy said, though he kept his words to a mutter, knowing he’d already lost this argument. If Tubbo liked the guy, Tubbo would hang out with the guy, and Tommy would either have to go along or risk losing him and then Phil would get involved and try to get Tommy to make friends that weren’t Tubbo and- ugh, yeah, Tubbo had a point, that would be awful. He gave in, turning his attention to his food, though he grumbled as he did so.

Once they’d finished eating – or, once Tommy and Tubbo finished, because Ranboo was a freaky fast eater and had already finished his lunch before they’d shown up – Tommy felt agitation bubbling in the pit of his stomach again. Now there was nothing left to do but talk and wait for the bell and Tubbo would probably spend the time talking with his new friend – they were already talking, even, as the two of them walked back from the bin. He was fucking sick to his stomach watching them, especially when Ranboo managed to make Tubbo laugh, and he turned to glare out at the rest of the yard before Tubbo noticed and started bothering him.

His gaze caught someone rounding a corner, looking around in a furtive manner Tommy recognised as checking no one had noticed them. It was a motion he’d seen Fundy make a million times as he snuck in and out of the house. He looked away before they noticed him and, once they’d disappeared, he looked back at the edge of the building, arguing with himself.

They were probably just going to meet up with someone and make out behind the dumpsters or something, he told himself. Or going to illicitly smoke drugs or cigarettes – that was a thing people did, right? Though... maybe Fundy would be among them, and Tommy could get him in trouble. Or he could threaten to, at least, and Fundy might do something for him in return. And it might distract Tubbo from his new best friend-

Tommy shoved off from the table and grabbed his bag. “Come on!” he called, relieved to see Tubbo’s face light up as he hurried to follow. Unfortunately, Ranboo followed too.

“What’s going on?” Tubbo asked, bouncing with every step.

“I saw someone sneaking off this way,” he said, nodding towards the building’s edge. “They looked like they were up to no good, so I wanted to, y’know, spy on them!”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Ranboo said. “We should head back – maybe let a teacher know! Or something.”

“Oh, don’t be such a,” he cast his mind about for a truly devastating insult, maybe something Wilbur would use, “a wet rag, Ranboo. We’re just taking a little look, we’re not going to do anything bad ourselves.”

Tubbo frowned. “Oh, boo. I really wanted to get in trouble on my first day! Wanted to see if I could break Fundy’s record.”

“What’s his record?” Tommy asked as they approached the corner.

“I think, like, a week? Apparently he tends to be on good behaviour at the beginning of the year, and then he just gives up.” Tubbo glanced over his shoulder, frown turning thoughtful. “Though he might give up earlier this time, considering everything.”

Tommy tuned out his words as he poked his head around the wall, ducking back quickly when he noticed them stopped just outside a door. He tried to look casual as he leaned against the wall, aware of the fact that nearly the entire yard would be able to see them.

“They’re right there,” he hissed, unable to keep from looking over at the corner, worried that they might suddenly reappear.

“Oh, cool!” Tubbo tried to lean past him, but Tommy shoved him back.

“No, they’re right fucking there, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Tubbo gave him a sour look, but stayed where he was.

“We really should go and let someone know,” Ranboo said, wringing his hands

“We don’t even know if they’re doing anything wrong yet,” Tubbo said. “Anyone can go around this corner, there’s no sign that says you can’t.”

“But-”

“Okay, bored now.” Tubbo peered around the corner again, batting away Tommy’s hands. “Oh, they went through a door.”

“Really?” Tommy looked around the corner too and found the area empty. It was a small space, with a fence barring the way behind the school and a drainpipe snaking its way up the building. The only really interesting thing was the door that read ‘DO NOT ENTER’.

“It was closing when I looked around,” Tubbo said, stepping past Tommy and walking over to the door. “I didn’t get to see who was going through.”

“Well, now we’ve got proof of someone doing a bad thing,” Ranboo said as Tommy followed Tubbo, “we can go get a teacher, right?”

“Nah, let’s go in!” Tommy said, pushing open the door. There were stairs beyond, dark and grey, and there was no sign of whoever had just gone down them.

“What?” Ranboo grabbed the back of his shirt. “No, it says don’t enter, we shouldn’t-”

“Nah, this sounds fun!” Tubbo said, slipping past Tommy and starting down the stairs. “And, technically speaking, it says do not enter.”

“That’s not- that’s what you’re getting hung up on?”

Tubbo ignored him and pulled his phone out, turning the flashlight on and casting it over the walls and ceiling – where there didn't seem to be any actual lights, which Tommy thought was well weird. But Tubbo was on the stairs and Tommy wasn’t some baby like Ranboo, and maybe this would convince Tubbo that Ranboo really wasn’t all that, so he twisted out of Ranboo’s grasp and went down the stairs too.

But Ranboo did follow, though he was still muttering to himself that this was a bad idea and his parents wouldn’t be happy and blah blah blah, Tommy just zoned out. The corridor at the bottom of the stairs was somehow even less interesting than Ranboo, which was disappointing – it was all the same dull grey and darkness. About the only interesting thing was how dark the darkness was, as Tommy couldn’t see anything other than what Tubbo’s phone lit up. He took Tubbo’s free hand – to make sure they didn’t get separated, of course – and put his other hand on the wall as they walked.

“Why did you even follow?” he asked Ranboo after a few moments. It felt kind of wrong to speak so loudly – their footsteps and breathing felt loud enough in this space, the only distraction from some weird skittering sound he was refusing to pay attention to, and even Ranboo’s mutters, though they were getting quieter by the second, had felt deafening. He wondered whether the person they’d followed had heard him speak – and then he wondered why he couldn’t see their light, and whether they’d even gone through this door at all or Tubbo had just said they did because he wanted to go through-

“I’m really susceptible to peer pressure,” Ranboo said, his voice far quieter than Tommy’s.

“We didn’t even pressure you, though! We just went through, you could have left and- and we wouldn’t have missed you at all!”

“I probably would have,” Tubbo said casually, pointing his light up at the ceiling. Tommy reached over and pushed his hand down, so it actually lit the path ahead, before returning his hand to the wall.

“But you guys are my friends,” Ranboo said.

“So if your friends all jumped off a cliff, you’d do the same?” Tommy asked with a laugh, which echoed around the entire corridor and rang in his ears.

“Probably. Wouldn’t you?”

He looked over at Tubbo, trying to imagine him jumping off a cliff. He didn’t like thinking about it. “I don’t know! My friends have better sense than that!”

“No I don’t,” Tubbo said.

“Yeah, he did just walk into a creepy dark hallway probably filled with spiders at best and man-eating monsters at worst,” Ranboo said quickly. “Just saying.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tommy said with far more confidence than he felt. “Monsters aren’t real.”

“Because it’s very easy to remember something so logical in a situation like this, yep. Lizard brain isn’t activated at all.”

“Why are you a lizard?”

“No, like... like lizard brain. The primal bit. From when we were more lizardy.”

“Well I’ve never been lizardy, so I don’t know what kind of fucked up brain you have.”

“But it’s everybody’s brain. It’s the amygdala – I think so, anyway. The bits that control fear, ‘cause that’s one of the first things that’s important to learn.”

“Yeah, and obviously I don’t feel fear, because I’m no lizardman.”

“I... That isn’t how that works.”

“The amygdala sounds kinda tasty,” Tubbo said, turning and shining the light in Ranboo’s face – who was still wearing the sunglasses, fucking creep. “Is it tasty?”

“Why would I know that?” Ranboo asked flatly. “Why would it be tasty? Why- what kind of question is that?”

“I think it sounds tasty,” Tubbo said, pointing the light forward again. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief, though it was quickly cut off as he noticed the corridor split.

“The fuck?”

Tubbo shone the light down each of the paths in turn, though Tommy couldn’t see any difference between them. They all looked fucking spooky and weird and dark. Standing in the middle of them with no wall to press his hand against was really getting under Tommy’s skin, so he stepped back into the relative safety of the path they’d just come from, keeping a tight hold of Tubbo’s hand so he didn’t go wandering.

“Right,” he said, looking between the other two – or trying to, at least, since the corridors were dark as balls and he couldn’t actually see Ranboo, but he could hear his breathing and so he pointed himself in that vague direction, “what do we think?”

“I think this is creepy and we should leave and maybe get a teacher,” Ranboo said.

“We still need to find the other person that came down here, though!” Tubbo said. “And rake them over the coals for breaking the rules like this!”

“I’m not very good at raking people over coals,” Ranboo said weakly.

“Are you sure you saw someone go down here, Tubs?” Tommy asked, turning so that the wall was at his back. It had been easy to ignore how still the air was while they were walking, but standing still just made him feel disoriented, with no light and no airflow and no nothing, so he- he was leaning against the wall for support, not because he was scared or anything, absolutely not. He was glad the other two couldn’t see him, though, since they might get the wrong idea.

“I’m positive,” Tubbo said, tone firm.

“Then we can call out to them?” Ranboo said, a hopeful note in his voice. He probably was freaked out by the darkness and that, with his weird lizard brain.

“Surely they would have heard us talking,” Tubbo said. “Surely they would have heard us and called back to us if they were going to.”

“Well...”

“They’re wrong’uns, as Tommy would say. They’re going to avoid us, ‘cause they’re all worried we’ll get them in trouble.”

“But then we won’t be able to find them, will we? I mean, there are three corridors, if we go down one to look for them and they’re down another one, they’ll just leave, won’t they?” He paused before saying all in a rush, “Please don’t suggest splitting up.”

“I mean, to be fair, it would work,” Tubbo said, twisting out of Tommy’s grip so he could more comfortably face them before pointing his torch at Tommy and Ranboo in turn. “Just whip out your own phones and you’ll be fine!”

“But,” he gestured towards the corridors, “creepy.”

“Yeah, Ranboo’s too much of a lizard to go down a dark corridor on his own,” Tommy said, ignoring the fact that he, too, didn’t want to go down a dark corridor on his own. He rubbed his hand against his jeans, trying to get rid of the phantom warmth from holding Tubbo’s. It only made the corridor seem colder. “He’s probably going to- to shed his skin if we aren’t careful.”

“That’s still not what lizard brain means.”

“Then we can just wait here,” Tubbo said, swinging the light over the other corridors again. “Either we’ll see ‘em when they come back, or they’ll be late to class!”

“But I don’t want to be late for class,” Ranboo said.

“Then-”

Tubbo’s light passed over the corridor to the left, and death stared back at them. Tommy only had a second – less than that – to take it in, but his brain refused to make sense of it; it seemed simply like a different texture of darkness, except for the eyes and claws and teeth. It snarled, soundless, and raised up, and through the keening edge of fear that had suddenly struck him, Tommy was dimly aware of reaching for Tubbo and trying to pull him away.

As he stepped into the intersection, fingers grazing the back of Tubbo’s wrist, he felt something slam into his back and knock the air out of him. He stumbled forward, trying to remain on his feet, and saw Tubbo turn towards him with wide eyes – what the fuck was wrong with him, there was a monster behind him, he should move-

He tried to reach for Tubbo again, but the monster was faster, slipping through the darkness – Tubbo had dropped the phone, because all Tommy could see was its pale, glowing eyes.

Tubbo cried out, someone grabbed his wrist, there was a soft ‘vwoop’, and then the eyes were gone. Tommy twisted to see where they’d gone, but pain shot through his back and he stumbled again, falling into Ranboo’s side.

“Oh God, are you- oh no, oh God-” Ranboo was talking again, his voice rising and falling in a panicked rhythm, and Tommy was really struggling to make out the specific words but at least the sound gave him something to focus on that wasn’t pain and the whimpers Tubbo was making and the fucking darkness-

“I’m fine,” he said, and Ranboo cut his panicked rambles off, loosening his grip slightly.

“Oh! Good!” There was a beat. “I mean, I don’t believe you, but I’m glad you’re talking, that seems like a good thing – Tubbo? Tubbo, are you okay?”

Tubbo made a pained noise in the back of his throat. “Uh- I’ve? Been better?” He laughed, then cut himself off with a wet cough that made Tommy’s heart leap into his throat.

Okay – okay, what he needed to do now was he needed to think. He reached out and found walls at their sides, the same faintly-gritty texture of the creepy tunnel walls, so they must obviously still be down in the creepy monster-infested tunnels. Fucking great. Well, the darkness was proof enough of that, and- and Tubbo had dropped the light, so now they were completely surrounded by the darkness and Tommy couldn’t actually see Ranboo or Tubbo – his traitor brain conjured images of monsters looming above them, a heartbeat away from turning Tubbo’s coughs to silence.

Tommy fell back against the wall, stifling a cry as it tugged at the gash in his lower back – he ghosted his fingers over it and felt his stomach drop at the fucking gaps in his flesh and the raw pain rushing through his nerves as he brushed the exposed flesh. He took a deep breath and shoved his hand into his pocket, relieved to find his phone still inside. It was hard to turn the light on with his hands slick with blood – don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it – but he managed, and he could breathe a little easier as it pushed back the claustrophobic darkness.

It got hard to breathe again when his light fell on Tubbo, who'd been got in the shoulder, or maybe the neck – there was so much fucking blood. He looked small against Ranboo’s side, and he was turned so that Tommy couldn’t get a good look at what had actually happened, but he was pale and shaking and had his hand pressed against something but it was still bleeding, he was still bleeding, and-

“Tommy?” Ranboo asked, a quiver in his voice, and Tommy dragged his gaze up to look at him. “Could you move the light? So we can see where we are?”

That was a fucking nonsensical question, but Tommy obliged. To his surprise, they stood at the base of the stairs – he quickly swung his light the other way, heart in his throat, and noticed two distant smudges. The monsters.

“Up the stairs,” he said, leaning against the wall with one arm as he tried to put himself between Ranboo and Tubbo and the monsters. They were approaching, they could be here any second; he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the waves of pain coursing through his back.

“Tommy-”

“Stairs,” he said, starting to back up. “Fucking now!”

“I- Right.” He lowered his voice. “Sorry, Tubbo.”

Tubbo cried out again and Tommy couldn’t keep from looking back at them, though he almost fell over with how badly his legs were trembling. Ranboo had lifted Tubbo in a bridal carry and was cautiously climbing the stairs – it couldn’t have been easy in the darkness, and though Tommy wanted to turn the light towards the monsters again, to check how close they were getting, he lowered it so that Ranboo could see where he was stepping.

They were about halfway up the stairs, Tommy’s skin crawling as he peered into the darkness below, when a shaft of light fell over them.

“What the-”

The door at the top of the stairs had opened and someone stood within it. Tommy couldn’t see much, as they were just a dark shape against a blinding light, but he could hear them call out suddenly, rushing down the stairs past Ranboo, past Tommy, standing between them and the monster that was now at the base of the stairs. Tommy felt his panic spike, but the newcomer stood firm and-

He stared stupidly as they lifted their hand and sent fire rushing through the corridor. When it cleared, the monster was gone.

“The fuck?” Tommy muttered.

They turned towards him, summoning a small fire in their palm – the door had closed again, so there wasn’t any light beyond this fire and Tommy’s phone, which he’d almost forgotten he was holding. He lifted it to get a better look at them and found that they were a male student, and not one he recognised, with hair buzzed short and intense eyes that seemed to peer into Tommy’s soul. He quickly turned the light away.

“Are you hurt?” the newcomer asked. He sounded more angry than concerned, and if Tommy felt any less weak he’d probably give them a sarcastic response. Even so, it was the reminder of Tubbo, who’d fallen worryingly quiet, that pushed him to answer honestly.

“Yeah.”

The other student paused before muttering, “Shit. Okay,” he said, louder, “follow me, and quickly. Turn the light off and be quiet. The monsters tend to go towards bright lights and loud noises.”

Tommy quickly turned his phone off and put it away, and then the other guy was walking away, far too quick for Tommy to easily follow. Not that he was going to tell him that. He was sure he could make do if he just leaned against the wall and focused on putting one foot in front of another-

“Could you slow down?” Ranboo called.

“No, I- okay, can you really not keep up?”

Ranboo was at Tommy’s side, and Tommy reckoned he was peering at him through the darkness – darkness and sunglasses, of course. “My friend can’t,” Ranboo said after a moment, “and he’s badly hurt.”

“Fucking- okay, fine, you guys wait here – don’t move, don’t make noise, don’t shine any lights around. I’ll be back as soon as I can with Hafu, okay?”

Tommy wanted to ask who or what Hafu was, but Ranboo said, “Okay,” before he could summon the energy. And then the strange magic fire guy with his strange magic fire was gone.

He heard shuffling before Ranboo said, “You should sit. And- and put pressure on the wound.”

“I’m fine,” he said, not trusting that he’d be able to support himself if he stopped leaning against this wall.

“Please. You don’t want to die before they come back, do you?”

“Fuck you, maybe I do.”

Ranboo sighed. “Okay, just- if you just slide down the wall, maybe, then I could put pressure on your wound and-”

“But that’ll hurt,” he said, hating how weak his voice sounded.

“But it’ll keep the blood in! We need to keep the blood in, Tommy!”

He pressed his forehead against the wall, trying to sort through his thoughts – they were a jumbled mess of fear and pain and tiredness, and he wished he’d never gotten out of bed. Sitting down sounded good, though, so he did as Ranboo suggested and slid down it, as slowly as he could, though he still hit the floor with a jarring thump.

“’m on the floor,” he said, pulling his legs close. It was fucking cold in these tunnels. “That’s fine, right?”

“Yeah, that- okay, give me one second.” There was more shuffling and then he felt Ranboo sit beside him, giving off a pleasant warmth. Now he was close enough to hear Tubbo’s breathing too, though it made a weird rattling noise that made Tommy’s heart stutter. “Okay,” Ranboo said, worry rising in his voice, “I- I don’t actually know how I can-”

“I’ll put pressure on my wound, big man,” Tommy said, forcing himself to sit up and pull off his hoodie – or, what remained of it. His hands were shaking and felt weak and he didn’t actually think he could hold it against the wound himself, so he wadded it up and put it between his injury and the wall, then, biting the inside of his cheek again, he pressed back against it. That would probably work for now, right? Once he was settled and the pain had become manageable again, he continued, “You take care of Tubbo, alright?”

“Okay.” Ranboo shifted beside him and, without thinking, Tommy pressed against his side. Ranboo jumped. “Oh! Oh, you feel really cold – are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, just-” He leaned his head against Ranboo’s shoulder, tiredness returning. He used the last of his energy to say, “We’re meant to be being quiet, ‘member? Or else the monsters?”

Ranboo took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. That- I-” He took another breath. “Okay.”

It was impossible to know how long they sat there. Tommy nearly fell asleep, though he kept yanking his eyelids open, stomach lurching with the fear that something had happened to Tubbo. Thankfully, Tubbo was still breathing every time he did, but his breaths were getting weaker and Tommy fucking hated it, and hated even more than his traitor body was the reason they were waiting here instead of getting Tubbo help, and that his stupid fucking traitor body kept making him almost fall asleep when Tubbo was literally dying or something-

He pushed that thought away. Tubbo couldn’t die here, he just couldn’t, and thinking about it just wasn’t right, so he screwed his eyes shut and pressed himself back against the hoodie and he waited for help to arrive.

The first thing he was aware of was a cold hand on his shoulder – really fucking cold, so cold it was nearly as painful as his back, and he flinched away, leaning more heavily against Ranboo’s side.

“Hold still,” said a sharp voice, and then the hand returned. Ice flooded his veins, rushing from his shoulder to his lower back, and for a few moments, that was Tommy’s whole world – cold and pain. When the hand finally pulled away and he could breathe again, he was surprised to find his back didn’t hurt anymore.

“What the fuck?” he asked, pushing away from the wall and poking at where he’d been slashed. The skin was whole, though a little weird feeling – maybe scar tissue? And, obviously, his whole back was still covered in blood and his clothes were utterly ruined, but... well, he was alive. Alive and not even injured anymore, not really.

He turned his attention to Tubbo, relieved to hear his breathing was clear. Still, he couldn’t see Tubbo – maybe that was someone else’s breathing he could hear – so he asked, “Is Tubbo-?”

“I healed both of you,” the voice said.

“Tubbo’s fine,” Ranboo said.

Good. That was... that was good. Tommy slumped against Ranboo, his hand finding and loosely curling around Tubbo’s ankle.

“We’d better move,” the voice said. Now that Tommy was paying more attention to it, he thought it was probably a girl’s voice. “If we go back to the sanctuary, we should have enough time to explain everything – and you guys are going to need new clothes, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ranboo said. “I think we’re all a little, um, blood covered.”

“Then let’s move.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s definitely a thing we can do,” Ranboo muttered, starting to get up. “Moving? No problem, absolutely no problem at all.”

“Quietly.”

“Uh- right.”

He stood and Tommy forced himself to stand too, picking his hoodie and bag up – he couldn’t quite believe he still had that – and pinching the back of Ranboo’s shirt with limp fingers. His grip would break if Ranboo moved too quickly, but Ranboo didn’t; he kept pace with Tommy perfectly, despite the urgency of the situation. The newcomer took the lead, holding something that gave off a faint blue light, and Tommy kept his gaze fixed on that as he walked forward. It was the only thing he could see in the darkness.

Wilbur had told him once that, in absolute darkness, your brain tended to play tricks on you. Even without any light, without anything at all for you to see by, you think you can, because the brain believes you should be able to. He found himself wondering if that was what the light was – just a trick. Or maybe this was all some fantasy concocted by his dying brain, a hope of salvation to help him drift off easier. He dug his nails into his palms and focused on the pain to try and convince himself that this was all real.

They kept walking forwards and, eventually, they reached a room that gave off a soft, warm glow. Their guide stepped into the light, the whatever it was in her hand shattering into pieces with a flick of her wrist. She was short – maybe even shorter than Tubbo – with straight, black hair, and when she turned to look at the three of them there was a cold look in her eyes.

“You want to tell me what you were thinking going through that door?” she asked, leaning against the edge of a table. It and all the chairs around it looked like they’d been stolen from the school, which otherwise felt a world away. The bell would be ringing soon, Tommy realised.

“Can we recover first?” Ranboo asked, and Tommy jumped – he’d forgotten that they’d been asked a question.

“Right.” She pointed over at a hallway leading away from the main room. “You can wash up through there,” she said briskly. “There’ll be a basket with spare clothes in a few different sizes, you should be able to find something that fits. There are chairs and stuff too – if your friend doesn’t wake up in a couple minutes, let me know.” Her brow creased, a flicker of worry crossing her face as she looked at Tubbo, and Tommy felt his stomach drop.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything further, he towed Ranboo in the direction indicated. It led to another small room, with chairs and doors and a few hampers. Tommy stayed by Ranboo’s side as he went to put Tubbo in one of the chairs, but Tubbo made a noise of protest and clung to him – Tommy’s shoulders slumped as relief lit a fire in his chest.

“Hey, Tubs?” he said, poking Tubbo’s cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo said, his voice slurred in the way it always was when he just woke up. He cracked open an eye and looked between Ranboo and Tommy, frowning. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Do you remember the monsters?”

“Mons-” Tubbo cut himself off, blinking. “Oh, right. There was a thing behind you.”

“There was one behind you too, fucking idiot,” he said, poking Tubbo again. “You saw it!”

“In my defence, my lizard brain doesn’t cope great with multiple threats.”

“Since when are you a lizard?”

“Okay,” Ranboo said, putting Tubbo in the chair, “we’re fine, we’re alive, now we just- um. Wash up?”

“Like, dishes?” Tubbo asked, looking up at him in confusion. “I just got got by a monster, I’m not doing dishes.”

“No, us,” he said, pointing between the three of them. “We’re all kind of bloody and- well, mostly bloody, yeah. There’s spare clothes over there, and I think...” He opened one of the doors and peered in. “Yep, sinks through these. I’m just going to-” He made an aborted gesture towards the room, then snagged a shirt out of one of the hampers and checked the label.

Tommy stayed by Tubbo. “Are you really alright?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “You were out fucking cold.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tubbo said, pulling at a loose thread in his shirt. He was still a fucking ghastly sight – still far too pale beneath the blood that covered far too much of him – but there was a mulish set to his mouth that Tommy recognised as Tubbo not wanting to talk right now, so he went over to the hampers and picked a shirt out at random that looked like it would probably fit. He put a bit more effort into finding some good jeans, holding a pair up against himself to check, before heading through one of the doors.

Inside, he found a small room with a bowl of flowing water set under a mirror, a pile of cloths to one side. He felt like he was in a daze as he pulled off his shirt and wiped the drying blood from his skin. The water, flowing from the wall and down a plug, stayed clear no matter how many times he rinsed the cloth. The new shirt hung off his frame, too big in every regard, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to get another one. The jeans, at least, fit alright.

And then there was nothing left to do and he found himself standing there, in a room small enough he couldn’t even reach his arms out, holding what remained of his shirt. He ran his thumb over the label, his own name stitched neatly into it.

He was just so tired. He wanted to go home. He wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep until this was all just a bad dream. He wanted his favourite shirt back. Most of all, he wanted to get those horrible, rattling breaths and the sight of fresh blood out of his head, wanted to wash his memories until they too ran clear.

“Tommy?” he heard Tubbo call, knocking on the door.

He took a moment to gather himself. “Yeah, I’m just coming out now.”

He opened the door and stepped out, pressing his old clothes against his chest. The sight of Tubbo, face pink from scrubbing and hair damp, made his throat tight – there had been blood everywhere – and his clothes fell to the floor as he pulled him into a hug.

“Glad you’re okay,” he said, quiet.

Tubbo gave him a quick hug back before wriggling out of his grasp, but his eyes were warm when he smiled up at Tommy, so he knew he hadn’t really minded the hug. “You too.”

He turned to Ranboo and nodded at him – he still kind of disliked the guy for stealing Tubbo away, but also he’d literally saved their lives, especially Tubbo’s, so he supposed he should put it aside. Ranboo nodded back, twisting the fabric of his old shirt in his hands.

“Okay,” he said, clinging to the buzzing energy that seeing Tubbo alive and well had left him with, hoping desperately that it would keep him going through the rest of the day, “let’s do this.”

He shoved his old clothes into his bag – maybe he’d be able to clean them and fix his shirt up? – and made his way back through to the main room. The two strangers seemed to be having a heated conversation, entirely whispered, on the other side of the room, but they cut themselves off when they noticed Tommy.

“Oh good,” the girl said, stepping towards them. “Glad to see you’re all sorted.”

“Yeah, uh – you said you’d explain everything?” Tommy said, standing tall and trying to look authoritative.

“No,” the boy said sharply, glaring at Tommy and the girl. “No, we’re not-”

“The least we can do is explain,” the girl said, just as sharp. “At least warn them of the dangers-”

“The dangers? The fucking dangers? I think they already know-”

“Don’t.” She turned to Tommy and the others, gesturing to the table and chairs. “Take a seat.”

He swallowed back the instinctive urge to argue – the silence that hung over them felt almost like it had a physical weight, and it felt like a very bad idea to break it. He sat, and Tubbo sat beside him, which helped him relax.

“Okay,” the girl said once Ranboo had sat too, and she strode to the head of the table, “I’m Hafu, head of the student council-”

“The student council?” Tubbo asked, incredulous. “What are you doing behind the do not enter door?”

“Dealing with the monsters,” she said, before pointing over at the other guy. “That’s Jack. He’s...”

“Some guy,” Jack said, giving them a wave. There was some bitterness in his expression when he looked at Hafu, and Tommy felt like it was from more than just their most recent argument.

“A second-year student,” Hafu said after a moment, turning back to the table. “You three are first-years, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” He wondered if he should give his name, but Hafu started talking again before he could.

“The short explanation is that that door back there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder, “is a magic door that only people with magic can go through, and it leads to here – the paths, and the sanctuary. The paths have monsters-”

“Wait, magic?” Tommy asked, sitting up straighter. “Like, real magic?”

“Yep.” She held her hand out and something that looked like an ice cube appeared on it. “Real magic.”

“And we have that?”

“That seems to be the pattern,” she said, and the ice shattered. She glanced over at Jack. “He has magic, and so does my brother – people who don’t haven’t been able to go through the door, and people who can go through the door seem to have some kind of magic. So,” she looked at the three of them, “have you noticed anything strange?”

“I think I teleported,” Ranboo said, which explained how they’d gotten to the stairs – which Tommy felt like he probably should have put together sooner. He continued, “Out there. And brought them with me.”

“Yeah, that- that definitely counts as strange-”

“Do we not get to choose our magic?” Tubbo asked, sounding disappointed.

“Unfortunately not,” she said. “At least, not as far as we can tell? We just seem to,” she waved her hands through the air, “have it.”

Tubbo slumped and muttered to himself, quiet enough that Tommy could barely hear it, “I want to be able to talk to bees...”

“Well...” She paused for a moment, then turned to Tommy. “What about you?”

“I don’t want to talk to bees.”

“No, I- no. Have you noticed anything?”

“Oh.” He thought about it for a moment, but came up empty. “No? I’m very normal, actually. The most normal.”

“Then let’s try something.” She gestured for him to stand and, with some reluctance, he did, leaving his bag on the chair. “Your power,” she said, “exists behind your ribs, near your heart – not physically, but when you use it, it draws from there.” She pressed a fist against her ribs and, with her other hand, summoned a small, flickering fire. “It’s impossible to say what form your magic will take, but if you keep that in mind and try doing something, then it might do... something.”

“Nice and specific,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

Hafu made the flame disappear and turned to give him a look. “Do you have any better advice?”

“Yeah: don’t. Magic fucking sucks-”

“It’s their choice.”

“I thought we were meant to be protecting people?” he asked, taking a step forward and staring intently at her. There was a faint hum in the air that made Tommy’s skin crawl. “I thought we were meant to stop people from getting hurt, not recruiting literal child soldiers-”

“It’s better that they have someone to teach them how to use their magic, at least,” Hafu said, folding her arms. “Better than them getting into trouble out there-”

“No, just- send them on their merry way-”

“I would like magic, though,” Tubbo said. “I’m just saying. That sounds fun.”

Jack drew back and glared at him, two spots of colour high in his cheeks. The hum was getting louder. Tommy took a step between them, heart hammering.

“You’d better get going, Jack,” Hafu said, drawing Jack’s attention. “You don’t want to be late for class.”

He took a breath, but whatever he was about to say, he cut off in favour of a simple, “Fuck you.”

As he strode out of the room, Hafu turned back to Tommy. “Sorry about him.”

“He seems like a right prick.”

She frowned, and he was surprised that she didn’t agree. Instead, she said, “We don’t have much time. Let’s just see what we can do right now, and we can always meet up again later if you don’t figure it out – if you want to, of course.”

Tommy tried to remember what she said and focused on the space behind his ribs, feeling like a complete idiot when nothing actually happened. No fire, no ice, no nothing. What was he even meant to be doing?

He jumped as he heard Tubbo cry out and then several things seemed to happen all at once – he heard a soft ‘vwoop’ again as he spun and then Ranboo made a startled noise from near the door, which was quickly overwhelmed by the sound of shredding fabric – his own shirt, he realised, a breeze hitting his back. There was the strange sensation of suddenly having too many arms, which he tried not to think about as he looked up at Tubbo, who was now sitting upside-down on the ceiling.

Tubbo looked down at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Feathers drifted through the air between them from an unknown source. “You got wings, boss man!”

~

Tommy left the school, tugging at the hem of his new new shirt and hoping he’d be able to fix up his old one quickly. The scratchy texture of this replacement made him want to tear his skin off.

He and Tubbo had been held back from the school rush by Hafu, as she asked them to come by the sanctuary – their name for the safe space in the weird creepy monster corridors – during lunch tomorrow. Tommy had wanted to just say no, but Tubbo was so excited to figure his powers out more – and, now that he wasn’t still shaky with adrenaline from monster attacks, Tommy had to admit the thought excited him too. And wings were just objectively cool, even if they had destroyed yet another shirt. At least they’d vanished again when he wanted them to, as having to deal with wings at school probably would have been a nightmare – assuming he didn’t just get carted off by the government and experimented on. But he didn’t want to think about that, and instead his mind was whirling with ideas of how to adapt his shirts to allow for wings popping out.

“Hi Fundy!” Tubbo called, pulling Tommy from his thoughts.

Fundy was sitting on the grassy slope by the bus stop. Despite the headphones on his ears, he looked up at Tubbo’s call. “Oh, hey guys! How was your first day?”

“It was weird.” Tubbo sat down beside Fundy, so Tommy sighed and sat beside them too. “We made a new friend, though! And met some other people, though I don’t think they’re friends yet. How about you?”

“Same old, same old,” he said, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.

“Why are you at the bus stop?” Tommy asked, craning his neck to read the route details. “This doesn’t even go home.”

“I’m going to work, obviously.” He gave Tommy a look that meant ‘I think you’re a total and complete idiot for asking such a thing’, a look that reminded Tommy that he really was Wilbur’s son. “I have a job, remember?”

“No. What makes you think I pay attention to you?”

Fundy frowned and looked away, and Tommy checked the bus times again. Another 5 minutes until one would arrive. Was Tubbo going to sit here that entire time? He pulled his bag onto his lap and started fiddling with the straps, feeling the presence of his ruined clothes almost as though they had burned a hole in the bottom of it.

“I have wings,” he said suddenly, looking up at Fundy.

Fundy blinked, blank shock clear on his face. “You- huh?”

“Wings! They tore straight through my shirt – look, I’m wearing a new one.” He pulled the tag out of the back of his shirt and twisted to show it off to Fundy. “Doesn’t have my name sewn into it, see?”

“I don’t know your shirts.”

“Oh.” He let it drop again. “Well, it’s not mine, because of the wings.”

“Right.” Fundy looked at Tubbo, raising his eyebrows. “Wings?”

“He does have wings,” Tubbo said, examining some ants crawling across the pavement. “I saw ‘em.”

“Is this some kind of prank? Because it’s very silly.”

Tommy reached into his bag and grabbed his shirt, holding the fabric tight between his forefinger and thumb for a second before pulling it out. He saw Fundy’s eyes widen. “There were monsters too,” he said, putting the shirt away before someone else saw. “But that’s not- we have magic, and it’s awesome.”

Fundy looked between them both, an assessing look in his eyes, before pulling his headphones off completely. “Okay, what?”

Chapter Text

Tommy’s story had been long and rambling and utterly nonsensical, like most of his stories were, and Tubbo’s interjections had been only minorly helpful. Even by the end, Fundy felt like it was impossible and he should probably just dismiss it as another one of Tommy’s attempts to get a reaction – but the glimpse he’d gotten of Tommy’s red-stained shirt and the whiff of copper had been proof that something happened, and there was a look in Tommy’s eyes he’d only seen once before.

It hadn’t been long after Fundy and Wilbur had moved in with Phil, and Tommy had only been about 6 or so and he’d tried to give Tubbo a piggyback ride; that was what Fundy had been told later. What he remembered himself was hearing Tommy screaming for Phil to help and following Wilbur into their room to see Tubbo covered in blood on the floor, Tommy clinging to him and crying at the top of his lungs. Even now, Tubbo still had the scar by his hairline from hitting his head, though his fringe covered it up most of the time.

That look, that pure, mind-numbing panic... it was definitely the same look Fundy could see shades of now. It was the look of someone who’d come face to face with their own mortality and found it wanting. Or, he thought as he snuck a glance at Tubbo, maybe it was the look of someone who’d faced the mortality of a loved one. Tubbo was avoiding looking at either of them, his gaze still fixed on the ants below, and when he spoke it was with a tone equal parts earnest and detached.

Before Fundy could consider that further, the bus arrived and he had to leave, though Tommy had a few parting words. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he said, giving Fundy a hard look. “They said we weren’t allowed to tell a single person.”

“What does that make me, then?” he asked, grinning despite the way his stomach had twisted.

Tommy looked confused but Tubbo laughed and that made him feel a bit better. He waved goodbye and boarded the bus, a million questions still rattling around in his brain, but a moment later he was distracted by someone calling his name. He looked back to see Jack running up – there was a brief moment where Tommy and Tubbo stopped what they were doing to give him a confused look, and Jack gave them a narrow-eyed glance of his own – and then he was getting on the bus, giving Fundy a bright grin.

“Eyup! How do?”

“Alright,” he said, going to find a seat as the bus started moving. He considered but quickly dismissed the idea of asking Jack about Tommy’s story; a crowded bus wasn’t the best place for such a conversation. “You?”

“I’m good,” Jack said, falling into the seat beside him.

“You’re late out of school.”

He pulled a face. “Yeah, student council getting on my case for being late back from lunch. Tossers.”

“You can say that again,” he said, trying to wrap his head around the fact that, according to Tommy’s story, Jack had been working with the student council, or at least its president. Even if they’d been arguing, that still just seemed weird – Fundy and Jack’s friendship had been founded on a mutual disdain for the school’s authority. Jack the class clown that would never snitch on Fundy, and Fundy the delinquent who’d always laugh at Jack’s jokes. The thought that he’d also been breaking the rules with the very people he’d made snarky comments about just didn’t sit right with Fundy.

Jack jostled him with an elbow, pulling him from his thoughts. “But enough about me – how was your second first day of the second year?” he asked, giving a cheeky grin.

“You already know,” he said with a scowl.

“I know what happened. Don’t know how you feel about it though. Come on, how weird was it being in my class?”

“Very weird.” He sighed. “And annoying. And boring, mostly – I’ve done this all before! And embarrassing and- and do you really want me to go on?”

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point.”

He slumped and dropped his head back against the chair, letting the anger drain out of him. “Sorry, just- I know it doesn’t really make a difference, with me leaving in a month and all, but still. It’s fucking humiliating!”

“Yeah, I get you.” Jack’s frown was barely visible out of the corner of Fundy’s eye. “Can’t believe it’s only a month now.”

“I’ll still keep in touch.”

“You better.”

The promise had been made easily – a promise Fundy had given a million times before – but it left a sour taste in his mouth this time. The thought that Jack had been lying to him for God knows how long was an upsetting one and he quickly pulled his phone out to distract himself before he said something he’d regret. Jack followed suit, and the rest of the ride passed in relative silence.

When they got off at their stop, Niki’s shop was only a short walk away, so he tried to use the final few seconds to completely shove all his thoughts about Tommy’s story to one side so that they wouldn’t get in the way of his work. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was to disappoint Niki.

He walked into the shop and found himself smiling as the bell tinkled overhead, his lungs flooded with the familiar scent of flowers and baked goods. He didn’t even bother to pull a face at Puffy as he rounded the counter, which she noted with some amusement, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re in a good mood,” she said.

“I’m glad to be back!”

He put his bag and jacket under the counter and pulled on the apron stored there, ignoring Puffy as she rolled her eyes. He knew Puffy wasn’t a fan of his, though he wasn’t entirely certain whether her brash sarcasm and disparaging comments were just how she dealt with anyone she didn’t like or whether it was something specific about him. Sometimes, it seemed like she was trying to offer him some guidance by criticising every single thing he ever did wrong – other times, it seemed like she was doing it just because she thought it was funny. But Fundy was willing to put up with it, as it was a small price to pay for being able to come here.

Then Niki came out of the back, her face lit up in a smile. “Fundy!” she called, holding her arms out for a hug.

“Niki!” He hugged her tight, warmth settling in his chest.

“Oh, I missed you when you were at school,” she said as she stepped back, standing on tiptoe to muss his hair. “The holidays spoiled me for your company!”

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

“Do I get a hug?” Jack asked, bracing his elbows against the counter.

“It’s good to see you too, Jack,” she said, reaching over the counter to give him a quick embrace. “You didn’t come by at all during the holiday, though!”

“The folks dragged me overseas, you know how it is.” He gave a tight grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “They seem to think I’ll actually get good at skiing one of these years.”

“Oh, that sounds nice! I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“Yeah, it was- yeah.” He nodded and pushed himself off the counter. “Can I get one of those éclair things?”

“Of course.”

Niki bagged it up as Puffy stepped aside, letting Fundy ring him up as she went to look after the flowers at the front of the shop. Niki also added in a free cupcake, which brightened Jack’s mood enough that he was smiling as he left the shop.

“Tough day at school?” Niki asked Fundy as she restocked the cabinets.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Jack’s just in a mood, you know how he gets.”

“Hm.” She cast a worried look towards the door before looking at Fundy again. “And how are you? I hope your first day wasn’t too bad?”

“Did you get into any trouble?” Puffy called from the front of the shop.

He ignored Puffy and pondered how best to answer Niki’s question. “I’m... glad it’s only a month ‘til I leave. Everything’s just getting so much, y’know?”

“I see,” she said, brows drawing together. “Well, I hope things get less so much between now and then.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged and leaned against the counter. She gave him a sorrowful look, but there was nothing to say they hadn’t already said, and after a moment, she went through to the back again. She did leave a cookie on the side for him, which he snacked on while the shop was quiet.

Over the next few hours, there was a rush of customers. Fundy was on good terms with a lot of the regulars and enjoyed chatting with them, getting to see little snippets of a life not his own. The old woman who came in daily to get a little apple pastry for her grandson, and who always made sure to ask Fundy how his father was doing; the young businessman who got roses for his partner every weekday on his way home from work, a routine he’d kept up for the four years they’d been together; the twins begging their mother for ice cream even though it was September and overcast, and she gave in as she always did with a familiar smile that made Fundy’s heart ache; the book club that took up a table every Tuesday afternoon, always recommending their book of the week to Fundy – it was probably one of the things he’d miss most when he left.

Something else he’d miss – or, rather, someone – was Eret, who came in after the main rush and hung around the shop to chat with him and Puffy and Niki for over half an hour. They ended up buying a massive bouquet of flowers and several cupcakes, and they pushed one of the cupcakes across the counter towards Fundy before leaving. Even though Eret always did this, getting a treat for Fundy while he was working, Fundy was still touched and made sure to wrap it carefully before putting it under the counter.

The sun was just drifting towards the horizon when Niki came out to take over from him on the till, though he didn’t leave the shop yet, staying to chat and eat his cupcake. When he finally started getting ready to leave, she gave him his earnings – cash, as he didn’t have his own bank account yet – and her smile faltered as he pushed some of it back towards her and picked up a chocolate cake from the display.

“Who’s that for?” she asked, counting up his coins.

“No one.” He put it into a bag as carefully as he could, making sure it lay flat. It would taste the same either way, and Schlatt wouldn’t really care about how it looked, but it felt wrong to let Niki’s hard work go to waste.

She sighed. “You know, I don’t approve of you hanging out with Schlatt. He’s a bad influence-”

“You sound like my dad.”

Her face twisted. There was something ugly and bitter in her eyes. A moment later, it was gone and she forced a bright smile. “He might be right this once!” she said in a too-cheery tone.

“He says the exact same things about Eret that he does about Schlatt,” Fundy said, knowing he should bite his tongue – whatever had happened between Wil and Niki and Eret and Schlatt was a mystery, but it was something that had hurt them all deeply. To bring it up to Niki felt especially cruel when she’d been nothing but kind to him. He ducked his head. “I just- he’s not got anyone else.”

“I don’t see how that’s your problem!”

“Everyone says I need to be more responsible!”

“There’s a difference.” She pushed the money back towards him. “I’m not charging you. Just promise to think about better ways to rebel against your dad?”

“I will,” he said, though they both knew her words wouldn’t be enough to get him to change his mind. He put the money away and left without looking at her again, guilt heavy in his chest.

The journey to Schlatt’s was long, especially since he had to take another bus, which gave him the time he needed to bury all the unpleasant feelings his talk with Niki had brought up. When he finally turned onto the right street his eyes went, as always, to the house across and a little way down from Schlatt’s – his own house, where Tommy and Tubbo were probably regaling Wilbur and Phil with tales of their first day at school. He wondered whether they’d bring up the magic stuff. There was no one visible from the road, and that helped him relax as he unlocked Schlatt’s door.

“I’m back,” he called out, kicking his shoes off and taking the cake through to the kitchen. Passing by the empty armchairs brought a flicker of unease, and once he put the bag down in the also-empty kitchen, he strode back towards the stairs with a half-formed plan to check he wasn’t dead in a puddle of his own vomit. When he reached the front door, his gaze dropped to the shoes – only his own, in an untidy heap in the corner. Oh, so Schlatt was out.

He sagged and went to curl up on his chair, pulling out his phone so he could play games while he waited. It was another ten minutes or so before he heard the front door unlock, and he looked up to see Schlatt startle in the doorframe, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Jesus, kid,” he said, flicking the lights on before shoving his keys into his pocket and closing the front door. “Sitting there in the dark like that – do you want to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry. I didn’t realise how dark it had gotten.”

Schlatt waved him off as he toed off his shoes, and Fundy noticed a grocery bag hanging from the crook of his arm. “It’s fine.” He slid the bag down into his hand and walked through to the kitchen. “Uh, didn’t you have school today?”

“I did,” he said, standing and leaning against the doorway so he could continue the conversation without shouting.

“And how was it?” Schlatt asked as he started putting stuff away. It was slow going as he only had one arm – his left hung limp at his side, the hand poking from his sleeve shrivelled and ash-grey – and he still didn’t seem like he’d adjusted to it, though he’d had the injury as long as Fundy had known him. He’d never said what had happened to it and Fundy had never asked, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He’d never seen anything that looked like that before.

“It was fine,” he said. “Nothing interesting.”

“Really? I thought the terrible twins were joining this year.”

He smothered a smile. “Uh, yeah, they joined. I didn’t see much of them – I think they were avoiding me.”

Schlatt nodded and pulled out the last item – a bottle of whisky. Fundy turned his attention to his own bag as Schlatt tucked them into a nook under the sink. He’d hidden his alcohol and cigarette stashes when Fundy had first started coming around, and even though Fundy had long since learned where they were, Schlatt still kept them in awkward places and Fundy still looked away as he did. Maybe Schlatt hoped it would dissuade Fundy from trying either.

“I got chocolate cake!” he said as Schlatt balled up the empty bag and shoved it into the overflowing bag-of-bags that he kept saying he’d use when he went shopping and yet never did.

“Oh, nice,” Schlatt said with a grin that transformed his face from the gnarled, hollow façade of a person into something a bit brighter, a bit more jovial. “What’s the occasion?”

“Celebrating a new school year or something?” Fundy shrugged and went to get some plates. “I don’t know, I just wanted cake.”

“Well, I’m never going to say no to cake,” he said. “I mean, I was going to make myself food in a bit-” He hesitated, eyes tight. “I, uh, assumed you’d be spending the day with your family and only got enough for one.”

“That’s fine, I’ll eat when I head back,” Fundy said, ignoring the way his stomach twisted in on itself. He could hardly ask for Schlatt’s food, though – Schlatt was thin in the manner of something that had once been strong now wasting away, and everything from his pale skin to his dull eyes gave the impression that he had one foot in the grave and the only reason the other hadn’t joined it yet was laziness.

“You’re heading back then?” Schlatt nodded to himself. “Well, you can get yourself a drink if you want. You know where everything is.”

He started making himself a cup of hot chocolate – he liked coffee more, but Schlatt was overprotective when it came to the oddest things, and he always insisted coffee was too stimulating. “You want anything?” he asked, not quite looking at Schlatt. It was the closest he ever got to offering Schlatt help, something small enough that it wouldn’t always be refused.

“Nah, I’ll get myself something,” Schlatt said, snagging a mug from the cabinet by Fundy’s head and going over to the coffee maker. At least he wasn’t getting something alcoholic.

They made their drinks in a comfortable silence. Once his hot chocolate was done, Fundy stacked a knife and some plates on top of the cake box so that he’d be able to carry everything in one go – there was a moment where Schlatt tensed, breath catching in his throat, and Fundy was worried that he was going to offer to help, but then the moment passed and Schlatt left, coffee mug in his good hand. Fundy brought everything through and sat in his chair to cut two slices of cake, and Schlatt rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word as he took one.

The sun was casting long shadows on the wall through the gap in the curtain, but he tried to ignore how late it was getting in favour of enjoying his cake and drink and goading Schlatt into ranting about some asshole at work. When he eventually lapsed into silence, their mugs empty and plates clean, Fundy knew he’d have to leave soon.

Before he did, he found himself asking, “Do you believe in magic?”

Schlatt tensed, watching Fundy out of the corner of his eye. Fundy kept his gaze fixed on the cup he was balancing on his knees, his feet tucked into the gap between the arm of his chair and the seat. “What the hell kind of question is that?” Schlatt asked.

“I was just wondering,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“If magic existed,” Schlatt said with the deep bitterness of someone who’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed, “do you think I’d be here? Do you think I’d be like this?”

Shame made his face hot. He swung his legs down, catching his empty cup before it fell to the ground, and started gathering everything up. “Sorry.”

For some reason, Schlatt laughed at that. “Fucking- look, if magic did exist, what good would that even do? Trust me, people like you and me are far better off without it.”

His mind caught on one part of that sentence and he couldn’t help but ask, “People like...?”

“The nobodies,” Schlatt said, eyes darkening. Fundy guessed he’d probably be heading straight for that nook under the sink once Fundy was gone. “In the stories, magic’s always for heroes, isn’t it? Those bright, special boys like- like Wilbur. The person everyone has to stare at when they enter a room.”

He wanted to ask what had happened between Schlatt and Wilbur, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer, and he knew it would just make Schlatt’s mood worse, so he just nodded and took everything through to the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into the cupboard and the dishes by the sink. With that done, he went back through and pulled his shoes on, considering the sullen silence Schlatt sat in. Maybe it would be better to leave without saying a word.

“See you,” he said anyway, hand resting on the door.

Schlatt nodded, gaze distant, and Fundy took that as his cue to leave. He jogged across the street, barely sparing a glance to check for cars, and unlocked his front door.

In contrast to the house he’d just left, it was warm and loud in here, and he could see everyone sat around the kitchen table, the remnants of dessert just getting cleared away. Tommy was talking about something and Tubbo and Wilbur were both hooked on his every word, laughter still hanging in the air. Even Phil had a hard time tearing his eyes away to meet Fundy’s.

“You’re back late,” he said brightly, putting the plates on the side. “I hope you ate while you were out – if not, you’re going to have to get yourself something.”

“I ate,” he lied, putting his shoes away.

“Good.” He started running the water to wash up, and there was an air of finality in the way he turned his attention to the dirty dishes.

He could have slipped upstairs without saying anything – no one would have noticed – but he forced himself to say, “I’m going to do my homework.” He lingered at the base of the stairs a moment, awaiting a response he knew would never come. When he left, it was with a heavy heart.

The attic was his. When he first got it he’d been happy for all the space, but it hadn’t taken long to realise it was Wilbur’s attempt at making it harder to sneak out. Not that it worked, but the room still carried the air of a prison, even with his different routes out memorised and perfected.

He sat in the window seat and watched the people passing below, trying to ignore the restlessness that had struck him. He’d been in the house barely two minutes and already his skin was crawling. He knew he could pull out his phone and find something to distract himself, or there was the laptop that sat in the corner – old and crappy and bought with his own money, but it still worked well enough – but his mind turned to Tommy’s story, still ringing in his ears.

It would be a breeze to sneak out of the house, and it probably wouldn’t be too hard to get into the school and find the door. They’d mentioned it had been outside, so he’d only need to climb the fence. And then... what? He’d go through the creepy magic door and get killed by a monster?

Assuming he even got that far. Assuming there wasn’t something magic in place to disguise or hide the door, or even just make it unable to be opened by anyone who didn’t have magic. And, even more than the fear of monsters, he found himself afraid to even try finding and opening the door. If it didn’t let him in, what would that mean? What would that make him?

As a child, he, like many other people, had dreamed of finding out he was special. That he had magic, or that another world existed where he was important. It was a welcome escape from the same four walls and his parents’ shouting, and then, after they moved in with Phil, it was a distraction from these new walls that quickly became just as familiar. If the door stayed closed, then it would, fittingly enough, close the door pretty thoroughly on that childhood dream.

He could just stay here. He should just stay here – apprehension curled in the pit of his stomach, and all of the ways this could go wrong rattled themselves off in his head. In the end, it was pure impulsivity that pushed him forward. He heard footsteps below him, Tommy’s and Tubbo’s, and, without thinking, he slid down the ladder and followed them into their room.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asked, looking thoroughly confused.

Fundy closed the door behind him, listened for a moment to make sure Phil and Wil weren’t nearby, and then he said, “Prove magic is real.”

His eyes widened comically and he made a shushing motion, glancing around, as though Fundy were dumb enough to do this somewhere they could be overheard. “Wha- what are you talking about?” he asked, voice high from nerves.

“No one’s listening,” he said, kicking Tommy in the shin. “Now prove it.”

“Sure!” Tubbo said, drawing a shocked stare from Tommy. “Look at this!”

Fundy watched as Tubbo jumped and flew up to the ceiling. Or, well, it looked more like falling, though that didn’t make any sense to Fundy’s brain. There was a loud thump as he hit it, and Fundy winced and looked back at the door, hoping Phil and Wil wouldn’t come and check on them. When a few seconds passed without any sign of them, he relaxed and looked back at Tubbo – who was still on the ceiling.

“...Yeah, okay,” he said, nodding. “That’s magic alright.”

Tubbo grinned and stood, feet planted against the ceiling, before jumping with his arms outstretched towards the floor. He managed to land the handstand, which was honestly more impressive than the magic thing, and then he dropped forward to land on Tommy’s bed.

“I didn’t actually think that would work,” Tubbo said, propping himself up on his elbows. “I only learned how to do that today, and I broke an arm last time I tried to come down.”

“Broke an arm?” Fundy asked, going to sit on the floor beside Tubbo. He wasn’t really that surprised, not by the arm-breaking itself, as Tubbo had broken more bones than him and Tommy combined, but his arms seemed whole and healthy, and that was pretty weird. Tommy glared at them both for a moment before flopping down on the bed too – Tubbo’s was a loft-bed, and very ill-suited to lounging, so there weren’t many options.

“Hafu healed me!” Tubbo said, holding his arms out for Fundy to look at. “She’s got weird freaky ice-healing magic and fire-healing magic, she said. And she’s going to be training us and Ranboo – the other first-year – with our magic tomorrow, which will be well cool.”

“Sounds it,” Fundy said distantly, looking over Tubbo’s arms, which were, indeed, whole and healthy. “And you guys really just... went through a weird door and got magic?”

He leaned forwards and took on a conspiratorial tone, which was far better than Tommy’s thoughtless rambling, and said, “Well, apparently, only people with magic can go through the weird magic door. Hafu said they tested it.”

Fundy turned to press his back against the bedframe, his knees pulled up to his chest. “So... if I were able to go through that door, I’d be magic too?”

“Yeah!” There was genuine excitement in Tubbo’s voice. “We can show it to you tomorrow-”

“I’ve got work after school.” He was willing to break a lot of rules, but he wasn’t willing to throw Niki’s kindness back in her face.

“We can show you at lunch, then.”

“She’s going to be mad at us,” Tommy said sulkily. “We weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Well, you did,” Tubbo said, patting Tommy’s knee, “so that’s that.”

“I didn’t-” Tommy cut himself off in a rare moment of self-awareness, a small smile breaking out. “Oh, I, uh- I did, didn’t I?”

They both nodded, and then Fundy stood. His restlessness hadn’t abated – instead, Tubbo’s words had made it worse. The thought of whether he could go through that door – whether he had magic – was an itch he needed to scratch. “But could you just tell me where it is?” he asked, looking down at Tubbo.

“Outside,” Tubbo said, waving his fingers as though indicating on a map only he could see. “If you’re facing the school, it’s to the right, round the corner. There’s a little fenced off area and the door – it says do not enter in big letters, and has some really weird sounds behind it. Like plumbing. But there aren’t any pipes inside, it’s just darkness. But the darkness is good, because the monsters are attracted to light and noise, so don’t turn a torch on!”

“Wait, you’re going now?” Tommy asked, sitting up and staring at Fundy as though he’d grown a second head. “It’s the middle of the night!”

“It’s not,” he said, pulling his phone out. “It’s only- okay, it’s almost eight o’clock, but that’s fine! Plenty of people go out at eight!”

“Not to school.” He frowned up at Fundy. “You’re fucking weird.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it! I remember when you used to beg to be able to go to school, and now you’re going in the middle of the night? School sucks!”

“Only if you follow the rules,” Fundy said, pulling out his phone to check its battery level - it'd be fine.

“They have ways of causing trouble for you if you don’t,” Tommy said. “Like telling your parents-”

“Wil’s never cared.”

“Then they can take you away from him!”

“What makes you think that’d be a bad thing?” He checked everything was secure in his pockets and didn’t look at either of them as he left. “See you.”

“Don’t get eaten by monsters!” Tubbo called.

The entirety of downstairs was open, so no matter where Phil and Wilbur were, they’d be able to see Fundy leaving. He first went up to his room to grab his spare set of shoes, then came back down and headed into the bathroom. Its window opened wide enough for him to fit through and it would drop him down to a point where he wouldn’t be visible from the downstairs windows, and with it being so dark he didn’t reckon anyone would be able to see him from the street either. He’d long since learned how to fall so that he didn’t injure himself and soon he was strolling down the street.

It didn’t take long for him to start second-guessing himself. It really was plain stupid – plain suicidal – to go running in there on his own. There wouldn’t be anyone else at the school either, no knights in shining armour to rescue him when something went wrong. And Tommy and Tubbo had almost died even with three people to intervene! He reached the intersection that would take him to Niki’s and hesitated, running down the list of people he could ask for help – he came up empty, and continued on.

It wasn’t long until he reached the school. It was easy to climb over the gate and make his way over to the corner Tubbo had mentioned, his nerves rising with every step. At the corner he had to stop and collect himself before he turned it – and then there it was.

For a while, he stood, just staring at the door. He was still scared to reach for the handle. He just needed to open it, he told himself, just open it and step in and then he could leave, he’d have his answer one way or the other. And just one step inside wouldn’t kill him- okay, yeah, it might, there could be a monster pressed right up against the other side of it that would just kill him instantly and- and then what?

He could die here. It was a fact he was well aware of, but suddenly it seemed far more real. The chill autumn air bit at his exposed skin and he shivered, lifting his gaze to the dark sky above.

If he died here, what would that really mean? He’d just be some idiot who’d wandered into danger in some stupid attempt to prove himself. And nobody would even care – with or without magic, his life would be the same. Whatever was happening here, whatever kind of magic community they’d created, it would only be yet another group to shun him.

Schlatt was right. He was a nobody. Even if he had magic, it would be better for him to just sit at home trying to turn into a fox and escape through the hedge at the bottom of the garden, like he’d done as a child. Coming here was just asking for trouble.

He felt suddenly, heart-wrenchingly lonely, standing in the dark at this door. It was that feeling that made him turn his reach for the handle; he’d spent enough of his life feeling sad and lonely, he’d rather die trying to get out of that pit than willingly return to it.

He wrapped his hand around the handle, twisted it, and shoved. The door swung open, revealing stairs leading down into the darkness, and in the small amount of light that leaked in, he could see that there weren’t any lights on the ceiling, not even unlit ones. The whole thing looked to be carved out of smooth stone with an odd precision, all at right angles with a perfectly flat floor. The air that leaked out of it was damp and cold, even moreso than the night air, and he could hear a hissing and skittering noise. He wondered whether that was the monsters.

Overall, this corridor just seemed wrong. Even the darkness seemed wrong, with an almost liquid look to the deepest parts of it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when the skittering got louder, and even when it faded away, he couldn’t relax.

This was in a school? He put his hands over his mouth, trying to muffle breathing that suddenly seemed too loud, and smothered the urge to laugh. This was stupid, this was wrong, this was dangerous, this shouldn’t exist-

He stepped over the threshold.

It took a moment for him to realise that he’d done it, and another for what that meant to really sink in. He had magic. He really had magic! He did laugh now, though he kept it muffled by his hands. He still couldn’t quite believe it, some part of his brain convinced that he hadn’t gone far enough in, but he tried to quash those thoughts – he’d done it, he’d stepped through the door, that was it!

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself and shuddered at the cold air. Now, as the sudden excitement that had gripped him faded, he became aware of just how loud his breathing was, even with his hand pressed tight against his mouth. He quickly stepped back and let the door swing shut, wincing at the noise. Hopefully that would be enough to keep the monsters trapped inside.

The cold of the tunnels still clung to him like cobwebs. He shook himself, though it didn’t do anything to help, and started heading home. As he walked he swore he felt an oppressive presence, something looming just behind him, though when he looked back, he couldn’t see a thing. It didn’t help his nerves.

The walk home passed quickly – the feeling of being watched never quite went away, and even the relative brightness of the town at night had him on edge – and when he saw that the house was dark he opened the front door without thinking. A lamp clicked on to reveal Wilbur in a move Fundy was sure he must have rehearsed.

“That’s so cliché,” he said, closing the door and taking his shoes and jacket off. Wilbur just watched him in silence. “Well?” Fundy asked, hanging his jacket up. “What did you want to say?”

“What is there to say?” Wilbur stood slowly and looked down at Fundy with an air of boundless disappointment. His voice was oddly calm as he said, “You know it’s dangerous to sneak out of the house like this and yet you do it anyway. It’s obvious you don’t care about anything but your own fun. I had hoped that seeing me might at least remind you that your actions affect other people, but that ship has sailed, hasn’t it?” Every word felt like a brick being slammed down between them. At the end of it all, Wilbur just shook his head. “Goodnight, Fundy.”

He walked past Fundy and up the stairs, not even staying long enough to turn the lamp back off. He couldn’t bear to be in Fundy’s presence a moment longer, could he? It was only when the house fell silent – everyone else in bed, no footsteps or murmurs to suggest Fundy was anything other than alone – that he finally propelled himself into movement, pressing his hands to dry cheeks and wondering when he stopped being able to cry.

He walked around the edges of the living room, feet practised at finding the sturdiest bits of the floorboards so that they didn’t creak, and paused next to the mantlepiece. There was a picture of him – only one, amidst the many of Tommy and Tubbo and Wilbur and Phil and Techno. It showed him as a child, young enough that he was still wearing skirts, held on his mother’s hip as Wilbur wrapped his arms around them both. They looked happy in the picture. He laid it face-down and continued towards the lamp to turn it off.

With that done, he went to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards for some kind of snack. His hand hovered over a bag of candy that probably wasn’t meant for him, and after a moment he grabbed a handful with the understanding that he’d find something more suitable to eat as well. That turned out to be a whole loaf of bread, the sliced kind you got from the supermarket, nowhere near as nice as Niki’s. He swung himself up to sit cross-legged on the counter and alternated between eating candy and bread. As he ate, he kept his gaze fixed on the hedge at the end of the garden. Its leaves rustled in the breeze, giving the suggestion of something alive within it. Nothing showed its face before he finished.

He cleaned up and went to his room in silence.

He sent Tubbo a text to let him know he was back, wondering whether it was even necessary – if Tubbo was awake, he would have heard what happened with Wil, and if he wasn’t, then he would see Fundy alive and well tomorrow morning. Really, there was nothing to suggest Tubbo had even been worried about him. He stared at the message as he heard Tubbo’s phone chime below, his mind running in circles and working itself up to some kind of breaking point.

There were two sets of quiet footsteps on the ladder – or, at least, two people trying to be quiet on the ladder. Fundy went to plug his phone in so that they wouldn’t see the relief on his face when they reached the top.

“You’re alive!” Tommy said, remembering halfway through the first word that he should probably be quiet. “How’d it go?”

“Are you asking about with the monsters or with Wil?”

“What’s the difference?” Tubbo asked, ducking away from Tommy’s swipe. There was a cheeky grin on his face, tempering his words enough that Tommy didn’t seem genuinely upset with him.

“I didn’t actually see a monster,” Fundy said. “Don’t think I walked far enough in for that.”

“So you were chicken, then,” Tommy said, sitting on Fundy’s bed.

“Better to be chicken and alive than anything else and dead.”

“Sounds like a boring way to live.”

He ignored Tommy’s words and said, “I did step through the door, though. So... that counts, right?”

“Probably!” said Tubbo, who was picking up some of Fundy’s old stuffed toys and sending them towards the ceiling. Had he been practising? “Hafu just said to go through the door, so if that’s true, you have magic!”

“Oh.” It still didn’t feel real. “What now?”

“Come to the sanctuary tomorrow, obviously.” He propped his hands on his hips and stared up at the toys. “Hafu can help you figure out your magic.”

“Great, spending more time around the student council, just what I wanted,” he muttered.

“Think of it this way,” Tubbo said with a grin. “You get to tell the student council that Tommy broke their one rule.”

Tommy stood up straight, staring agape at Tubbo, though it was Fundy he addressed as he said, “What the fuck, you can’t just do that! Don't you fucking dare-”

“Not so loud,” Fundy said, glancing towards the floor. “I don’t want Phil to come yell at me.”

“At his age, that kind of thing can be fatal,” Tubbo said.

“I don’t think-”

“He is very old,” said Tommy, who thankfully wasn’t yelling anymore, though he also wasn’t trying to be particularly quiet. It was probably only a matter of time before one of the adults took issue.

Fundy sighed and went to sit on his bed. “Look, it’s late, can you guys just,” he flapped a hand towards the ladder, “go?”

Tommy looked as though he might argue, but Tubbo shrugged and said, “Sure! Sorry about your toys, though.”

The reminder of the toys on the ceiling made all of them glance up. “You’re going to get them down at some point, right?” Fundy asked.

“We’ll see!”

Tommy laughed and made his way back to the ladder, asking Tubbo whether he could levitate various other objects, though Fundy quickly tuned out his words. Tubbo followed, answering all of his questions with an excited tone, and he paused before he left to wave at Fundy, who waved back.

And then he was alone once again.

Chapter Text

The next morning was normal. Wilbur didn’t give any indication that he remembered their argument – he never did – he just greeted Fundy with a hair tussle and a reminder to eat breakfast. He didn’t notice when Fundy got ready to leave, and Fundy hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should say something – but Tommy was eating his breakfast slowly and Wil was trying to get him to move faster and Tubbo was distracted by something and Phil was ignoring everything and there just didn’t seem to be room for Fundy, so he left.

Jack was already waiting for him at the bus stop. He lived not far from Niki’s and they’d fallen into a routine last year of Jack getting them both breakfast from her shop – today it was an apple turnover, still pleasantly warm.

“Thanks,” Fundy said, starting to pick at it as they walked. Honestly, one of Niki’s pastries was a far better breakfast than cereal and toast anyway. “How much was it?”

“Niki actually gave it me for free,” Jack said. “Told her I was getting it for you and she just took it off the total. Honestly, she’s way too trusting – I could have been lying!”

“She gave it to you for free?” Fundy lowered the pastry, stomach churning.

“Yep.” Jack gave him a mock glare. “Lucky sod.”

“Hey, I didn’t-”

“I know, I know!” Jack said easily, waving him off with a smile. “Honestly, it’s fine. It doesn’t cost me anything, so why should I care?”

“I suppose.” He stared down at the food, silently willing himself to keep eating. At the very least, it wouldn’t be right to let Niki’s hard work go to waste, and that thought helped him take another bite, though his stomach didn’t calm any. As he swallowed it, he searched for something to talk about, something to hopefully distract him enough that he could finish his food. He ended up asking, “How long have you been magic?”

Jack came to a halt, coughing and spluttering so violently that Fundy was almost worried he was actually choking. “I- I- you don’t- what are you talking about?”

He debated with himself for a split-second before saying, “Tommy told me.”

Realisation dawned on Jack’s face. He threw his hands up in the air, spinning in a half-circle. “Oh, of course he just spills the beans in one day,” he complained, talking more to the air than to Fundy. He glanced up the street, worried about someone overhearing them, as Jack continued ranting, “The rest of us keep it secret from friends and family for a fucking year, and he just goes and tells some rando as soon as fucking possible-”

“I’m not some rando,” he said, though it wasn’t quite true.

“Really?” Jack turned his head just barely enough to watch Fundy out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed.

“He’s my uncle,” he explained. “We were talking after school and he just- I mean, he doesn’t have any kind of filter, don’t get me wrong, but he hasn’t told anyone else. I think.”

“Your uncle.” Jack turned to stare directly at him. “Your uncle?”

“My father’s younger brother – my uncle.”

“Your uncle.”

“That doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.”

Jack silently mouthed the word ‘uncle’ once more before finally moving on and asking, “So what, it’s fine when it comes to your nephew, is that it?” He put his hands on his hips and laughed, short and sharp. “I just realised you’re his nephew – that really doesn’t sound right.”

With a sigh, Fundy rewrapped the pastry and shoved it in his bag. “Forget it,” he said as he walked past Jack and down the road – he regretted ever opening his mouth.

Jack fell into step behind him, and when Fundy looked over, he saw that he was wearing a deep frown. They continued on in silence.

It wasn’t until they turned onto the road the school was on that Jack grabbed Fundy’s arm and pulled him to a halt. He looked around to see whether anyone else was nearby, then, in a hushed voice, his eyes boring into Fundy’s, he said, “I fucking died. I went through the same door Tommy and them went through, found the same monsters, and no one came to save me.”

“What?” He stared blankly at Jack, struggling to make sense of his words.

“I died.” Jack took a deep breath, gaze unwavering. “This is dangerous. Walk away before you can’t.”

“But you’re alive,” he said, stupidly.

He barked out a laugh, utterly devoid of humour. “Yeah, I brought my own damn self back, and then I had magic and the student council – fuckers – had all these rules about what I could and couldn’t do, and they roped me into helping fight back against the monsters so it didn’t happen again and of course I’m not just going to walk away but- but fuck them. Fuck this.”

Those words rattled in Fundy’s hollow chest. He chewed on his tongue, dissecting the pain in Jack’s eyes, before admitting, “I went through the door last night.”

“You did?” He jerked back, blinking hard. “Why? Wait- last night? As in- night?”

“Yeah. I jumped the fence around the school and went through the door. I, uh... guess that means I have magic, right?”

Jack stared at him for several seconds before letting go of Fundy’s arm and stepping away. “I don’t care,” he said. “Unless you want to end up with your guts fucking strewn across the walls – like I did – then you should stay away.”

That mental image played itself over and over in Fundy’s mind. He shook himself and said, “But I could help, couldn’t I?”

“Help with what?” Jack scoffed and turned away. His expression was hidden now, but the taut lines of his shoulders were on full display. “There isn’t a finite number of monsters. They’re endless, they’re just going to keep coming until we’re all dead-”

“Then why don’t you leave?”

He stiffened. There was suddenly a faint hum in the air, something that made the air crackle and the hairs on the back of Fundy’s neck stand on end.

“We’re going to be late,” Jack said after a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, resettling his bag and walking towards the school without another glance at Fundy. He released the breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding and followed after, ignoring Tommy and Tubbo as they barrelled past, hand-in-hand.

~

Jack gave him the cold shoulder for the entire rest of the morning. It didn’t seem fair to Fundy, but he did his best to ignore it, figuring he should let Jack have some space. When lunch rolled around, Jack disappeared quickly, and Fundy wondered whether he’d gone down the creepy corridors. He knew Hafu hadn’t yet, having seen her eating lunch, so he decided to wait near the door for someone to show up and took the time to finish off his apple turnover; even cold, it was still delicious.

He waited almost half an hour before Hafu showed up. She froze when she saw him leaning against the wall opposite the door.

“Fundy,” she said, folding her arms. “What are you doing here?”

He decided to cut right to the chase and pointed at the door. “Tommy told me about that,” he said.

“Tommy told you what, exactly?”

“The whole magic thing,” he said, feeling no guilt over ratting Tommy out like this. He stood up and brushed himself off. “I, uh, stepped through it already – I didn’t go far in, but I did go in.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Right. Right. Don’t know why I thought he’d be able to keep his mouth shut-” She cut herself off and looked over her shoulder. “Okay,” she said, turning back to him. “Let’s just go in and we’ll talk about it at the sanctuary, alright?”

“After you.”

She went over to the door and looked around before stepping through, and Fundy gave the sliver of the yard he could see a quick once-over before he followed. The stairs were just as dark and creepy as they had been last night, though at least this time Hafu was waiting with some kind of... crystal? Whatever it was gave off a soft blue light, by which he could just about see the walls and the assessing look on her face.

“Hm.” She turned and put her free hand on the wall before walking down the stairs. “Keep quiet and stay close.”

He bit his tongue and followed, carefully feeling out each step with his foot as he descended and keeping a hand on the wall. It was easier once they reached the bottom as the ground was smooth and even, though Hafu picked up the pace to a quiet half-jog. It was actually weirdly quiet, as Fundy couldn’t hear either of their footsteps – a fact that especially unnerved him when he remembered how loud everything had seemed last night.

Eventually they came to a room that gave off a warm glow. Jack was already inside, pacing along the far wall, though he came to a sudden stop as soon as he saw Fundy, eyes burning with something that seemed far too angry to be betrayal.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice shattering the silence.

Though Fundy guessed this room was safe – it probably wouldn’t be this bright if it wasn’t – he couldn’t help but flinch. He took a moment to steel himself in the hopes that his voice wouldn’t come out as a whisper before saying, “Look, I don’t know if I want to help out with whatever the hell’s going on here, but I apparently have magic! I want to learn about that.” He shrugged, unable to meet Jack’s gaze, and added, “I’ll see about the rest of it.”

“It’s not fucking worth it-”

“Jack,” Hafu said, her voice sharp. To Fundy’s surprise, he fell silent. She turned to Fundy with an expression that he knew meant she’d really rather not have to deal with him right now and said, “First of all, have you noticed anything strange? Anything that might have been you using your magic without realising?”

He pressed his fingers against his right forearm, right over the scar that was hidden by his sleeves. It felt like he should be able to give an answer. But, in the end, he just shook his head.

“Then you’ll have to try and use it now,” she said, and the crystal – which really looked more like a chunk of ice in this light – that she’d been holding shattered into nothing. “Your power isn’t physical,” she continued, tapping her ribs, “but there’s still a sensation when you use it, the feeling of pulling something from here. Just behind your ribs and sternum. If you focus on that area and try and do something, then you should – or, well, might – use your magic.”

“Is that really all it takes?” Fundy asked, pressing his hand against the area she’d indicated. It didn’t feel especially magical.

“It worked for 5up, and for Tommy and Tubbo,” she said. Fundy wanted to ask who 5up was – what the hell kind of name even was 5up? – but Hafu continued before he could. “The rest of us first used our powers in a more dangerous situation, and the adrenaline probably helped with tapping into them, but it isn’t necessary.” She held up her hand and summoned a small fire. Fundy felt his heart race at the sight of it. “This should work.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and held his hands out, wondering how it would feel if they burst into flame, before following her directions.

Nothing happened.

His face felt hot with embarrassment. He kept his gaze on his hands as he said, “I don’t think it worked.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, unless I’m doing it wrong,” he said with a nervous smile. “Your instructions were vague as fuck.”

“It worked for the others,” she said, folding her arms. “Just try and-”

“And focus on the area just behind my ribs and do something?” He flexed his hands. “I’m telling you, it’s not working!”

Hafu paused. “Well... maybe you have a passive powerset, or-”

“Or maybe he doesn’t have magic,” Jack said, striding towards them both. “Maybe that door doesn’t work how we think it does. I mean, let’s face it, we don’t understand how anything works!”

“What are you saying?” Hafu asked, turning to face him.

“Magic sucks.” Jack’s hand whipped out to gesture towards Fundy. “He’s lucky enough to get a chance to walk away from all this – and you should really take it,” he said, the last part directed at Fundy. “Just leave, forget everything you saw- whatever you do, don’t fucking stay here.”

Hafu looked at Fundy sidelong, fidgeting with the fabric of her sleeve. “He has a point,” she said carefully, and he almost wanted to laugh.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you hate me.”

“I don’t-” She cut herself off and, after a moment, admitted, “Okay, I kind of do, but that isn’t the reason.”

“Really,” Jack said, “the best-case scenario if you stay is you just get yourself killed before anyone else gets hurt.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Fundy finally looked up and he found that, far from looking abashed, Jack’s eyes were burning. He wasn’t even blinking, his gaze fixed on Fundy. Hafu, meanwhile, didn’t seem able to look at either of them.

“What the fuck, man?” Fundy asked weakly, a humourless laugh bubbling up and over.

“This isn’t some school club.” Jack’s voice was low and hard. The air crackled around him. “We’re fighting monsters. You’re not just useless to that – you’re a fucking liability. Even if you do have magic, it’s not something you can control, so it’s not going to be any help, and trying to figure it out in the heat of battle is a fucking stupid idea.” He stepped back, and some measure of sympathy finally crossed his face. “I mean, if you figure it out on your own, then whatever. Good for you, I guess. But right now? You should leave.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Lightning arced off Jack as he tensed, rage flooding back, but before he could do anything, a wall of ice rose between the two of them. Fundy stumbled away, his gaze darting to Hafu, who stared back at him levelly.

“You should go,” she said.

His mind spun, searching fruitlessly for some argument. “You really don’t have any other way of checking for magic?”

“We don’t even know what magic is.” She shrugged. “Jack was right, we don’t understand how any of this works.”

“And your lack of understanding is reason enough to kick me to the curb?” he asked, lip curling. “To leave me to figure stuff out on my own – working with less information than even you have! What if that gets me hurt? What if that gets me killed?”

She hesitated, pressing her lips tight together as she considered his words. “If something changes, you can let us know,” she said eventually. “But this place is actively dangerous.”

That was that, then. He stood tall, trying to regain some scraps of his dignity, and strode from the room before they could say anything else.

It was hard to make his way back in complete darkness, but he wasn’t willing to go back and ask for help, so he kept a hand on the wall and an even pace, hoping the rhythmic steps would help calm him down – and then his hand hit empty air and he stumbled. He remembered Tommy mentioning an intersection and, for a moment, his gaze slid to the left, spite fizzing in his chest and combining with a sickening, twisting need for something to distract from the muddle in his head and the lump in his throat.

But it was only a moment, as he had enough presence of mind still to keep walking forward. The wall returned in only a few steps.

For some reason, that pause was what broke his composure. Tears spilled down his cheeks and he pressed his free hand against his mouth, muffling shaky breaths broken up by sobs. When he reached the door he stopped, not wanting to step out and show the whole world how much of a fucking mess he was – but he couldn’t stay here, either. Even discounting the monsters, there was the chance one of the people with magic would walk by and find him, and that was about the worst thing he could imagine. He dropped his forehead against the wall and tried to take deep breaths, wiping his cheeks dry. The second he felt even somewhat calm, he left.

The bell rang as he closed the door behind him, marking the time the younger students came out for their lunch. Tommy and Tubbo would be coming by here soon – Fundy all but ran into the school and up the stairs, keeping an eye out for the two of them. He didn’t know where they’d be coming from so it was entirely up to luck whether he’d run into them, but luck was on his side for once and he reached the top floor without a problem.

On the top floor there was one particular window that overlooked a little jutting-out section of the building, providing access to its roof when opened. The roof was flat with a lip at the edge, so it wasn’t even that dangerous in Fundy’s opinion, and he’d long since made himself a copy of the window’s key. He checked he was alone before using it, climbing out and sitting with his back against the wall. The pigeons that had been roosting there flew away.

It was cold enough that he wouldn’t be able to sit here long, but it was somewhere private and the fresh air was nice, so it would at least work as somewhere to hide for a while. Unfortunately, it didn’t offer any distraction from his thoughts.

He didn’t have magic.

He drew his knees to his chest, turning that fact over in his head. He’d gone through the door – but he couldn’t use magic. Hafu and Jack and Tommy and Tubbo could and yet he couldn’t and no one would even tell him why. All they offered were reasons why they thought this was for the best- His stomach turned and he pressed his mouth against his knees, hoping he wouldn’t throw up.

One thing he knew for certain: he really didn’t want to stay at school for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to face Jack again, and the thought of sitting through the same old classes of maths and geography and physics after all that just made him want to bash his head against a wall. Maybe he could head to Niki’s shop early; she’d be disappointed in him for skipping school, but she’d probably also give him cookies and let him sit in a corner until he felt better. Or he could go to Schlatt’s since he wouldn’t say anything about his truancy, though he also wouldn’t offer any comfort.

As he debated which would be best, he peered over his knees at the yard below. It was teeming with students. He saw Tommy lead Tubbo over to the magic door, an unfamiliar student following close behind, and turned his gaze away. His gaze caught on a handful of his former classmates, laughter filling the air as one of them spoke. He recognised them by sight, though he’d only really spoken to Dream.

Dream was the kind of guy to wander up to a group of people and just insert himself into their conversation, and he was charismatic enough that it never felt forced. He’d been one of the only people to try and befriend Fundy, a number that had quickly waned as Fundy kept getting into trouble, but Dream had held on longer than most as he’d extended invites to parties and offered help with homework all the way through their first year. He was always smiling, friendly and quick-witted, extremely hot with his white-blond hair and bright green eyes – and Fundy’s long-time crush.

Adrenaline was still coursing through Fundy’s veins, so he went back inside and started running through the halls, hoping the exertion would cover up the remaining evidence of his tears. It wasn’t long before he came to a skidding halt by the group he’d seen. When their eyes turned to him, he almost regretted his actions.

“Hi,” he said, casting his gaze over a few of the people before looking directly at Dream. “Dream.”

Dream blinked, mouth twisting into a quizzical smile. “Hi?”

Figuring he should introduce himself, he said, “I’m Fundy – I used to be in your class?”

“Yeah, I remember you.”

“Cool.” He nodded, and if he hadn’t already been flushed from crying and running he was sure that would have turned him bright red. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? Maybe catch a movie, or have food, or- or something?”

Dream’s smile turned from curious to hesitant and Fundy’s nerves spiked. “I- Is this a dare or something?” Dream asked, his head tilting to the side.

“No!” Maybe he should have said yes – maybe he should have taken the out.

“Really?” He waved a hand towards the doors and asked, “Then why were you running?”

Yeah, this had been a bad idea. He forced a grin, mumbled some nonsense about having to do a thing, then ran to the school gates. Some people shouted after him as he climbed them, but what did he care? It would hardly be the first time he got in trouble for skipping class.

He dropped to the ground and started wandering down the road, still unsure as to where he should go and too busy trying to get his thoughts to settle to make a decision. He’d only been walking a few minutes when he felt his phone buzz. Wilbur was calling him. He grimaced and ducked into the nearby park as he answered.

“Hello?”

“Fundy?” Wilbur’s voice was stern. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine-”

“I just got a call from the school telling me you’ve left? Where are you?”

“I- I’m safe,” he said with a glance towards the street, suddenly afraid he’d see a policeman running after him, “I-”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He swallowed and took a seat on a bench. “I’m not going to tell you where I am.” Hopefully the crappy connection would hide the tremble in his voice.

“Fundy-”

“I’ll be back later, I promise,” he said quickly, hoping that would be enough.

“Are you at Schlatt’s?”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t trust you.”

His mouth twisted. “I- I’ll be back for dinner.”

“No, you’re going to come home now or you’re going to tell me where you are.”

“I’ll be back for dinner,” he repeated.

Wilbur sighed and lapsed into silence. Eventually, in a softer voice, he said, “You really don’t care about how worried I am, do you?”

“I...” Fundy pressed the heel of his free hand against his forehead, bracing his elbow against his knee. What could he even say to that? “I do, but-”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Wilbur said, cutting him off, and then came the beep to indicate he’d hung up.

Fundy stayed where he was for a few seconds, trying to even out his breathing. When he finally stood and continued down the road, he wasn’t really sure how he was feeling, though he’d decided that visiting Niki would be best. Maybe she’d let him work a few extra hours. Maybe that would be enough to distract him from the utter mess today was shaping up to be.

Chapter Text

As Fundy expected, Niki was disappointed with him when he showed up at her shop halfway through a school day. Puffy was even more so, though her disappointment was tempered by not having had high expectations for him in the first place. Still, they agreed to let him sit in a corner and have something to eat – which was good, as he’d skipped lunch – and they stepped away to talk in a manner Fundy recognised as adults debating what to do about him. He picked at his food and listened in, half-worried they’d call the cops on him.

“We should tell the school where he is,” Puffy said, leaning towards Niki. “Even if we don’t make him go back-”

“If we’re not going to make him go back, then we shouldn’t tell them where he is,” Niki said firmly. “They’ll send the police over otherwise.”

“But-”

“And Wil will get involved.” There was a sour twist to her mouth when she said Wilbur’s name and Fundy’s appetite vanished.

Puffy sighed, glancing at Fundy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly stared down at his sandwich as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “They’re going to get involved either way,” Puffy said, lowering her voice further, though still not enough that Fundy couldn’t hear. “At least if we say where he is, they won’t worry.”

“No, they’ll just come barging in here and make things worse for everyone.”

“Then we should send him back. It’s going to be trouble no matter what if we don’t.”

Niki was quiet for a moment, as though she was actually considering Puffy’s suggestion. Fundy shifted in his seat, muscles tensing as he prepared to run, though he tried to make it just look like restless fidgeting. He should be able to reach the front door before either of them could catch him, but maybe the back would be safer – he could get behind the wall quick and make it harder for them to reach him. For the moment, though, he waited. Maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was wrong.

“We’re not sending him back,” Niki said eventually, and Fundy relaxed in his seat – there was a voice in the back of his head insisting that she was just saying this because she knew he was listening in and she’d change her tune the moment she left, but he did his best to ignore it. “If he came here, he had a reason,” she continued.

“Yeah – he’s a menace!” Puffy wasn’t even trying to keep her voice down anymore. Fundy looked up to see her giving him a sour look – he stuck his tongue out at her.

“I don’t agree.” When Puffy started speaking, Niki waved her off and said, her voice firm, “No. I’m not sending Fundy back and I’m not inviting trouble into my shop-”

Puffy snorted and looked towards Fundy again. “You already have.”

“Still.” She met Puffy’s gaze squarely. “I’m being serious, Puffy.”

“So am I.”

“You’re not changing my mind on this.” She frowned, her face pinched, and asked, “What are you going to do?”

Puffy shook her head, curls spilling over her shoulders. “Let the record show I objected.”

“Of course,” she said, relaxing. When she gave Puffy a kiss, Fundy looked away. “I’ll take the till now, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was clear the discussion was over. Fundy turned his attention back to his food, hoping the calming atmosphere would help his hunger return. At least he wouldn’t have to run again.

It was half an hour later and he’d only just finished his sandwich when Jack came into the shop. He looked like death warmed over – a thought that almost amused Fundy, though his stomach had dropped at the sight of him. Niki drew herself up, her shoulders firm. “Jack, shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Nah,” he said, leaning heavily against the counter. “They let me go early ‘cause I feel like crap. I just wanted to get some comfort food and then I’m heading home.”

She softened, wearing a rueful frown. “Oh, are you ill?”

“Probably.”

“Sorry. What can I get you?”

He turned glassy eyes towards the displays, which lay between him and Fundy. As he spotted Fundy, he straightened up, muted emotion flickering across his face. “Oh.”

“I’ll just-” Fundy stood and gestured towards the backroom, averting his gaze.

“Wait,” Jack called, rounding the counter. “Can we talk?”

“You shouldn’t be back here,” he said in warning, eyes darting to Niki, who looked concerned, and Puffy, who looked thoughtful. Neither of them seemed to care that Jack had just broken the rules, and he was surprised he still had emotion enough to feel upset at the unfairness of it.

“I’ll be quick, I just- I- I know what I said earlier was-” He glanced at the others, drawing a deep breath. “I know I upset you, and I’m-”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. There was a chance Jack wasn’t going to apologise, and Fundy didn’t think he’d be able to take that – he also didn’t know how he’d react if Jack did apologise, so it was really better to just avoid the conversation altogether.

“But-”

“Can we talk later?”

Jack snarled and slammed his hand against the counter. Fundy flinched and Niki took a sharp breath as though to tell him off, but she let it out when Jack paled, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the counter. It didn’t look like he had the strength to stand without it.

“I want to talk now,” Jack said, his frustration barely masking his exhaustion.

“I don’t,” Fundy said, trying to summon some frustration of his own.

“Fucking-”

“You don’t look alright,” Niki said softly, cutting Jack off. “Is there someone I can call? A parent?”

His jaw clenched. “No.”

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No.”

Her brow creased. “I don’t think you should be going home on your own-”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, shoving away from the counter. He swayed dangerously. “I can look after-”

He went a curious grey colour and his legs folded up beneath him, dropping him to the floor. Niki managed to catch him before his head hit anything and she gently lowered him the rest of the way, then she started checking his pulse and his breathing and his temperature and probably other things too, and all Fundy could do was stare. It was wrong, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel like Jack had taken something from him by collapsing like that. Like he’d just done it to spite Fundy. He felt horrible and selfish and utterly rotten to the core, and Jack was as still as the grave before him.

“Okay,” Niki said, rolling her sleeves up, “I’m going to take him upstairs to lie down. Someone should stay with him.”

He wasn’t sure whether it was a desire to make things right or to feel even worse that made him say, “I’ll do it.”

“Don’t get him worked up again,” she said. “Come and get one of us when he wakes up.”

He nodded mutely. When she lifted Jack and started walking, he followed her upstairs, where she laid Jack down on a couch. She stood over him for a moment, frowning in thought, before going to fetch a damp cloth to lie on his head and a glass of water to place beside him.

“Let me know if anything changes,” she said.

“Will do.”

She put a hand on Fundy’s shoulder, her frown turning to concern. He wondered whether any part of that concern was for him. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“What else can I do?” He could see her preparing an answer, so he shrugged off her hand and went to sit beside Jack. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He didn’t answer, and eventually she left. The seconds ticked by.

“Hey.”

It took a second for Fundy to realise Jack had spoken, the word barely more than a whisper. He looked over to find his eyes barely open, cracked lips parted to take shallow breaths. Fundy knew he should get Niki, but instead of getting up he said, “Hi.”

Jack relaxed minutely, eyes slipping shut. “’m sorry. For- for earlier.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He swallowed and started pushing himself up onto his elbows, two spots of colour very high on his cheeks. Fundy watched, debating whether he should help, but Jack managed to do it on his own, though it left him panting. His head dropped forward, the still-damp cloth falling onto his chest.

“Are you-”

“If you ask me how I am,” Jack said breathlessly, “I’m going to hurt you.”

Fundy looked away, his stomach twisting. He waited in silence as Jack gathered his strength, his breaths evening out.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said after almost a full minute. “I lost my temper.”

Despite himself, Fundy snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“Fuck you. I-” He paused to catch his breath again, the shadow of anger than had risen in him fading just as fast as it had appeared, leaving him looking even more worn down. “I… I’ve been like this since- well, you know.”

“Sick?”

“Angry.” He gave up on propping himself up and fell back down with a thump. A sigh escaped him as he stared at the ceiling. “It feels like all I can feel anymore. It just bubbles under the surface, and then something happens and I just fucking explode, and then-” he waved a trembling hand, “then this happens. It just… burns out. And I’m left empty. And fucking exhausted – I could sleep for a week, honestly.”

He twisted his hands together, battling through his own emotions. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t want you to die!” He rolled his head to the side and stared at Fundy with large, pleading eyes. “Not just ‘cause I like you and we’re friends- but I don’t know if we are anymore, though…” His face twisted up into something pained and brimming with regret and his words hung in the air. Fundy wondered if he was expected to respond. Jack turned his face away, expression shuttering. “But- but even if you did come back, even if you could, you’d be- you’d come back different. Wrong. I- I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” He moistened his lips and added, “That’s why I help the others. That’s why I’m part of their group – but their group sucks, and magic sucks, and everything about this sucks.”

“Oh.” He considered that for a moment. He could definitely understand where Jack was coming from, but even seeing the living breathing proof of how bad magic could fuck you up didn’t help at all with the ache in his chest.

“You have a chance to be normal,” Jack said, speaking with a fervour that was no less genuine for its frailty.

Without thinking, Fundy said, “That’s not really an option for me either way.”

Something moved under Jack’s skin – some kind of burning light flowing through his veins – and Fundy suddenly felt very afraid. “What, like your fucking daddy issues are comparable to literally dying?” he asked, eyes hard.

“It’s not-”

“There’s a massive fucking difference! Which you’d know if you ever actually cared about anything other than-” He cut himself off to gulp down air, eyes screwed shut and brows drawn together.

Fundy felt hot and knew he wouldn’t be able to control his tongue if he didn’t leave now – knew that it would cost him a friend, if they even were still friends at this point – and so he forced himself to stand and walk out. Jack was saying something behind him but he ignored it, taking the steps two at a time to reach the ground floor quicker.

“He’s awake,” he said to Niki, striding past her to the front door.

“Hey, wait-”

He threw the doors open and walked to the edge of the street. His legs itched with the need to move, but he had no idea where to go; the day to this point was a scattered mess of arguments and mistakes and it felt like there was no relief, no solace from his own fuck-ups. He scrubbed a hand down his face and tried to come up with solutions rather than problems, but it felt hopeless.

“He wants to talk with you,” Niki said from behind him, her voice cautious. “He wants to apologise.”

He shook his head and said nothing. After a few seconds he heard her walk up beside him, her hands tangled in her apron.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He was a dick,” he said simply, trying to crack a smile.

“Enough of a dick that you’re not going to accept his apology?”

“Maybe.” He shook his hands out, trying to get rid of his restless energy. He could tell Niki was still watching him, still waiting for an answer, so he said, “We had an argument.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t want to tell her – he couldn’t tell her about all the magic stuff, or at least he felt like he shouldn’t – but at the same time the words were burning holes in his tongue and he desperately wanted someone to know what had happened and to not get on his case about it. To maybe even lend some sympathy, or some support. Niki felt like one of his best options there, but he still hesitated, breath hitching in his chest.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” he said eventually. “He’s just been a complete arsehole today, and- and we got in an argument at lunch, and he said that-” He stopped before he admitted the worst of what Jack had said – that the best thing he could do was die. Niki and Jack were friends, and he knew – he thought – that Jack didn’t really mean it, so wasn’t it just better to keep his mouth shut?

“He said…?”

He shook his head again and, coming to a quick decision, said, “it sounds silly out of context.” His voice wobbled as he spoke. He really hoped he wasn’t about to start crying again.

“Well,” she said after a few moments, “I’ll let Jack know you don’t want to see him. You can stay in the shop – I think I’m going to call Eret to take him home, if they’re both okay with that, but I’ll get her to take him through the back door if she does. Does that sound alright?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and she put a hand on his shoulder. After a moment she stepped away and went back into the shop, and he was about to do the same when his phone chimed.

It was a message from HBomb. He’d been in the year above Fundy and so had now left the school, even moving to another city, but he’d been the closest thing Fundy had to a friend during the first few years and he still made an effort to stay in contact.

HBomb: why’s Dream asking for your number?

He frowned down at the screen and tapped out a quick “i don’t know??” before heading back inside. Puffy was at the register now, so he guessed Niki was keeping an eye on Jack.

“Do you want me to help?” he asked, gesturing towards the till.

“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to run out halfway through?” she asked, folding her arms.

“When have I ever done that here?”

“Literally just now.” There was a smug edge to her smirk. Fundy pulled a face at her.

“I didn’t run out on my job, I just-”

“Ran out on some sickly kid that Niki asked you to look after?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, stomach churning. “That’s different.”

“It always is with you.”

For a moment, he debated telling her about what Jack had said – maybe it would be enough to shock her into being more civil to him. Or maybe she’d just assume he’d done something to deserve it and she’d ruin his mood further. Or, worst of all, she might tell Niki about it, and that could drive a wedge between her and Jack, which was the exact reason he hadn’t told Niki – he shouldn’t cause that kind of trouble for them. And he could happily go to his grave without ever having a serious conversation with Puffy, so he simply shrugged and went back to his seat in the corner.

“Really?” She turned to watch him, leaning against the counter. “That’s it?”

“What do you care?” He brought his legs up and pulled out his phone, noticing that HBomb had sent him some more messages. “You hate me,” he added.

“I don’t hate you,” she said. “I just think you’ve got a track record of causing trouble and running away, and I don’t want you to do that here.”

He glared up at her. “But I never have!”

“But you’ve only gotten worse in all other aspects of your life. School, home, friends-”

“School sucks and home sucks, and I only have, like, two friends – maybe – and I don’t even cause trouble for them!” he said quickly. “This whole thing with Jack is just- it’s a fucking mess. But it wasn’t my fault!”

“That’s exactly what you’d say if it was your fault.”

He tugged his sleeves down, trying to summon the energy to be indignant – frustrated – anything other than tired and sad. After a moment he slouched back in his seat, turning his gaze to his phone again. “Forget it.”

She muttered something under her breath, but a customer entered the shop at that moment and distracted her. Fundy opened the messages app, resolving to ignore Puffy for the rest of the day.

HBomb: should i give him your number?
HBomb: i don’t remember him being a dick – is he a dick? you can tell me if he’s turned into a dick
HBomb: he says you asked him on a date?? Fundy???

There were a few more messages – mostly question marks and demands for answers – and Fundy hesitated before responding.

Fundy: he didn’t accept, tho

There was a long pause before the next message, which worried Fundy. His nerves only spiked further when he saw what HBomb said.

HBomb: he says he wants to talk about it with you! should i give him your number so you can do the whole talky thing?
Fundy: what’s there even to talk *about*
HBomb: that’s for you guys to figure out!!
HBomb: i mean, if you really *don’t* want me to give him your number, that’s fine – but i know *i’d* prefer talking about something like this over text instead of being ambushed at school, so
HBomb: i suppose you could always just not go to school???
HBomb: or talk over text and then, if he *is* a dick about it, block his number and let me know
HBomb: actually, just let me know what’s going on either way, i’m at the edge of my seat!!!

He thought about it for a few moments, tapping out different responses before deleting them. Eventually, he sent off a short agreement, which prompted a flood of emojis from HBomb, their meaning probably only comprehensible to HBomb himself. He checked his other messages as a distraction from waiting for Dream’s response – he was in class at the moment, he probably wouldn’t even notice HBomb’s message – and found that he had one message from Tubbo and several from Jack. With a grimace, he checked Tubbo’s first.

Tubbo: heard what happened, tried to steal something cool and magic, but Hafu kept a real close eye on us :/

He supposed that was intended as a kind of comfort, but he didn’t really know how to respond, so he moved on to Jack’s messages with some reluctance. Most of them were from before he’d come by the shop, though there were a few that had come through more recently. He scrolled through the older ones first.

Jack: can we talk?
Jack: where are you?
Jack: honestly, you’re better off without magic anyway
Jack: still sorry, though
Jack: i’m going home, see you tomorrow

Then, the ones he’d sent in the last few minutes.

Jack: i’m sorry, can we talk?
Jack: i didn’t mean it
Jack: i mean, i did, but i’m still sorry!

He glanced up at the ceiling – he couldn’t hear Jack, but he knew he was still up there. He really didn’t want to talk to him right now, but just ignoring him felt like a dick move, so he decided to send a brief message.

Fundy: i don’t want to talk about it
Jack: why not?

The response had come through quick. Had he been waiting for Fundy to respond? He supposed there wasn’t much else for Jack to do at the moment and felt a brief twinge of guilt.

Fundy: you really have to ask?
Jack: ok, bringing your family into it was shitty of me, but i stand by the rest of it!
Fundy: i’m not talking about it.

He rubbed his forehead and ignored Jack’s next message, and the one after that – he was just about to put his phone on silent and shove it into a pocket when he got a message from an unknown number.

???: Hi, is this Fundy’s number? It’s Dream.

He sat up straight, staring at the little bubble with its seven words. With his heart in his throat, he forced himself to respond.

Fundy: yeah, it is
Dream: hi! :)
Dream: i got your number from hbomb, hope that’s not weird?
Fundy: it’s fine

He pulled a face, wondering if his last message had been too terse. He sent another one quickly.

Fundy: you wanted to talk?
Dream: yeah, sorry about earlier! i thought you’d been dared to do it – definitely the weirdest asking out i’ve ever gotten!
Dream: no offense :)
Fundy: do you get asked out a lot, then?

It didn’t really surprise him. Dream was a popular guy, well-loved by basically the entire school – the more he thought about it, the more his impulsive question seemed like a stupid idea. It wasn’t even like it had done that good a job of distracting him from everything else, as it had simply become yet another black mark on the day.

He was pulled from his thoughts as his phone buzzed.

Dream: a few times – not seeing anyone at the moment tho
Dream: might be willing to change that ;)

He pressed a hand against his mouth to hide his smile, hating the way hope curled in his chest and warmth flooded his cheeks. Still, he was able to type out a response, though it took a few seconds before he could bring himself to send it.

Fundy: oh? ;)
Dream: i believe you mentioned something about a movie? got anything specific in mind?

One specific answer was clear to him, but he forced himself to take a moment and consider his options. There’d be a ton of new releases in the cinema this weekend, and those would be a very safe option – he should choose something he didn’t care about, really, so that if the date went poorly, he could let the movie curdle in the back of his mind along with the rest of his memories of it. Or even just if Dream didn’t like the movie, he’d rather it not be one so near to his heart. But this was going well, really well, and he didn’t want to play it safe. Even as his mind supplied him with all the various ways this could go wrong, he decided to go for it.

Fundy: i was planning to see Treasure Planet this weekend – the cinema’s doing a special showing, sun only, and it’s my fav movie – would you be up for that?

The response was immediate.

Dream: yeah! :)
Dream: <3

He dropped his phone into his lap and curled forwards, covering his face with his hands. Buzzing energy flooded his veins and brought a wide smile to his face, and he had to wiggle in his seat to get out some of the excess.

“Oh, someone’s happy!”

He looked up quickly, spotting Eret at the counter with Puffy – he hadn’t noticed them enter, but they’d clearly noticed him, judging by the warm smile on their face and their amused words. Trying to shove aside his embarrassment, he smiled back at them.

“Eret! Hi!” As he turned to face them, he caught a glimpse of their car outside – he knew they worked from home and lived nearby, so he could only think of one reason for them to bring it. Shame settled like a rock in his chest, dousing the warmth that had spread through him, as he said, “You’re picking up Jack, then?”

“I am,” they said gravely, brow creasing. “I’d heard he was unwell.”

Fundy nodded and Eret stepped around the counter – but, instead of heading through to the back, they approached Fundy and gave him a softer smile.

“I’d also heard you two had an argument,” they said. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, avoiding their gaze.

“Well,” they reached forward and ran their fingers through his hair, tucking a lock of it back behind his ear, “I’m glad to see that something was able to brighten your mood. Were you talking to a friend?”

He hesitated before lifting his phone and showing Eret the last few messages. “I’ve got a date?”

“Oh!” They lit up with a brilliant smile that Fundy found himself mirroring. “That’s wonderful news, Fundy! You’ll have to let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Will do!”

“Eret,” Puffy called, “I hate to interrupt, but you should really get Jack home.”

Eret patted his head before stepping away and nodding at Puffy. Fundy tried to maintain his smile – he didn’t want to worry them.

“I’ll be back later,” Eret said, turning back to Fundy. “We can talk then, if you’d like?”

“I’ll be fine-”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” they said, their tone gently chiding.

Conscious of the way Puffy was watching him – with a raised eyebrow and air of impatience – he lowered his voice before admitting, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Their smile brightened again. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

They left and, before Puffy could say anything, Fundy settled back into his seat and pulled out his phone. It took a few minutes for him and Dream to organise the specifics of the date, during which he was hyperaware of the footsteps and muffled voices moving around him – though a distraction came at the end, when Dream sent another heart as his final message. Summoning all his courage, Fundy sent one back, turning to face the wall so that Puffy wouldn’t see the goofy grin on his face. After that he sent an update to HBomb, who once again flooded his messages with emoji spam, and by then Jack and Eret had left, so Fundy went to ask Niki if he could work a few extra hours.

“Yeah, of course!” she said, giving him a bright smile. She made a face at the rest of the room as she added, “I could do with an extra pair of hands to catch up on work – do you want to help out back here?”

“Back here?” The back was Niki’s space, where she prepared all the food. Fundy had sat through here a lot when he was younger – he remembered thinking it was like magic, seeing Niki turn the ingredients into actual food, and even knowing magic was real and also real fucking scary, he still kind of thought that – but ever since Fundy had started coming to the shop to work, he’d mostly stayed in the front, only coming back here to grab fresh stock or clean dishes or, occasionally, to ask Niki to deal with something. “Are you sure I won’t get in the way?” he asked.

“I’m sure! And it keeps you away from anyone on the lookout for truants, too.” She went to get a tray that was covered by a dish cloth and added, “But mostly, I think it’d do you good to learn a bit of baking. Maybe you could make some of this when you start living on your own – wouldn’t that be nice?”

It would – Fundy rocked back on his heels and, when he could speak around the lump that had risen in his throat, said, “Okay.”

~

Fundy helped out Niki for a few hours, trying to commit everything she taught him to memory, and when his usual working hours rolled around, he went out to work on the register. He felt some pride seeing pastries he’d helped make among all the others, especially since they sold out as quickly as everything else. At one point, Niki suggested she might ask him to work in the back more often, even encouraging him to think about what he might like to make, and Fundy couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Eret came by at their usual time and drew Fundy into a conversation about Dream and their upcoming date, and when Niki overheard this she lit up. She also promised that, if something did go wrong, she was not above making a teen her mortal enemy, which got a laugh from Fundy and soothed the last of his nerves.

And then it was time to leave. Fundy tried to cling to his good mood as he left, though it was hard as every step home took him one step closer to the argument with Wilbur. He weighed up the pros and cons of avoiding him for just a little bit longer, pausing for a few moments across the road from Schlatt’s, but in the end he went straight home. He didn’t want to risk making things even worse.

The house was warm when he stepped in, the family scattered across the living room. Tommy had a shirt pattern spread out across the floor and was making alterations to it while Wil and Phil watched TV, and Tubbo was curled up in a separate chair tapping at his phone. For a moment, he almost thought Wilbur had forgotten about their call.

“We need to talk,” Wilbur said, dashing that hope. He turned the TV off and stood as Fundy kicked his shoes into the shoe pile and hung up his jacket and bag, taking his time – not that it mattered, as Wilbur kept talking. He never could keep their arguments private. “It’s only your second day of the school year and you’re already skipping out halfway through,” he said. “Clearly, there’s a problem here.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he went to stand opposite Wilbur in silence. Tommy jabbed at his foot with a pencil when he stepped too close to the pattern, only avoiding him because he was too distracted to put any effort into it.

Wilbur sighed and rubbed at his face, somewhere between tired and pained. “Okay,” he said, dropping his hands, “if you’re going to keep getting into trouble like this – running away, getting into arguments with the student council-”

“I didn’t!” he said quickly.

“Tommy said otherwise.”

“It wasn’t about school stuff, though,” he said, glaring at Tommy, who scowled back at him – Fundy briefly entertained the idea of stepping right on the middle of Tommy’s pattern, which would probably tear a hole in it. “It wasn’t really- I mean, yeah, one of them is technically a member of the student council, but it wasn’t-”

“That doesn’t change things,” Wilbur said firmly. “Now, I think it would be best to go back to home-schooling-”

“No!” The protest was torn from him; he winced and glanced at Phil, who was giving him a disapproving look, and lowered his voice as he continued, “Please, please, I- I’ll be good, I just-”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.”

“I won’t skip school again,” he said, taking a half-step forward. “Not even once. Perfect attendance, perfect punctuality – please just let me keep going?”

“It’s clear you’re just not ready to deal with school,” Wilbur said, not unkindly, which just made the words hurt more. “It’s too much for you-”

“It’s not!”

Wilbur gave him a bewildered look. “I don’t understand why you’re arguing. You don’t even like school!”

He looked away. “I… What do I have to do to keep going?”

“No, Fundy- there’s no shame in being unprepared for that kind of environment! Look, you got thrown in at the deep end, with the work and the school and the everything – we’ll take it slower this time. It’ll be fine.”

He could have pointed out that he was so unprepared specifically because Wilbur had kept him out of school for so long – he could have, but he didn’t. Instead, he repeated, “What do I have to do to keep going?”

Wilbur sighed again and turned away, pacing towards the kitchen. Fundy debated turning to Phil for help, but the chances he’d side with Wil weren’t worth the risk. He waited, folding his hands behind his back and keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

After a while, Wilbur returned. “I don’t understand you,” he said, his voice soft and sorrowful. “You just don’t talk to me anymore.”

There was a lot he could say to that. He swallowed it all back and simply said, “I’m sorry.”

“No more causing trouble,” Wilbur said. “Of any kind. Okay?”

“Okay,” he promised, knowing he wouldn’t keep it.

“Dinner will be in twenty minutes.” He sat down and turned the TV on.

Fundy lingered for a moment, wondering whether to stay or head upstairs – his gaze drifted towards the door, but he quickly turned away and took the empty seat. Dinner would probably be awkward as all hell, but leaving would give Wilbur exactly the excuse he needed to take Fundy out of school and he just couldn’t let that happen. Still, it was clear this would be a painful few weeks.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week seemed to limp towards its end, each step more painful than the last. He and Jack had fallen into a kind of stalemate – they’d tried to patch things up the following morning, but it had threatened to devolve into another argument and they’d gone their separate ways. Despite this, Jack still walked with him to Niki’s that afternoon and still brought him breakfast the morning after. When Niki asked Fundy if they’d made up, he’d shrugged and wobbled his hand. It was complicated. It was all just so fucking complicated.

If they could just talk it might be easier – might break the awkwardness – but Fundy was sure Jack wouldn’t bring it up in public again, lest he unleash a lightning bolt where everyone could see it, and Fundy himself didn’t feel entirely safe talking about it one-on-one, though he was still reasonably certain Jack wouldn’t intentionally hurt him. Or, at least, not physically. Still, with their argument unresolved, things couldn’t go back to normal. They sat on opposite sides of the classroom, each stewing in their own guilt and frustration, and it made the already boring and repetitive lessons feel truly excruciating.

But he forced himself to sit through them all, as well as the detentions he’d been given for running out on Wednesday, the threat of home-schooling hanging over his head like a blade. He knew he couldn’t keep it up forever and the ever-watchful gazes of his teachers and Hafu suggested that they all knew it too, but, for the time being, he was able to keep himself in line.

The only ray of light at school in those two days was Dream, who had started seeking Fundy out at lunch and sending him texts between lessons. Fundy really didn’t know how he’d cope with their actual date, since even just this was enough to make him a flustered mess, much to Dream’s amusement. But it was nice in a way Fundy had so rarely felt – if there was one good thing to come out of the shitshow that had been Wednesday, it was this.

At work, things were as great as ever, but home had grown tense. Wilbur made a comment Thursday morning – not to Fundy, but still directed at Fundy – that they didn’t really have ‘proper family dinners’ anymore, not with everyone all together, and so Fundy had ended up cutting his time at Schlatt’s short that evening to get back in time to eat with the others. Not wanting to rock the boat, he’d also stayed in the house for the rest of the evening, though he’d ended up hiding out in his room to avoid Tommy, who seemed to think that Fundy’s increased presence at home was an attack against him specifically.

By the time Friday rolled around, Fundy was a mess. He felt wound-tight, stepping on eggshells in almost every aspect of his life, and he knew it was only a matter of time before it all came tumbling down. The only thing keeping him going was the upcoming date and the hope that, if he held on just a little longer, Wilbur would forget about his ultimatum and Fundy’s inevitable slip-up wouldn’t have such dire consequences.

He paused outside the front door – dinner would be in five minutes, but he really didn’t want to head in to repeat yesterday’s nightmare. A momentary distraction came in the form of a text, which he seized gratefully.

HBomb: guess who’s in town for the weekend?
Fundy: who?
HBomb: no, you have to guess
Fundy: …you?
HBomb: yeah!! :D
HBomb: i know you’ve got that date sunday, but maybe tomorrow we could hang out?
HBomb: i’ve missed my little buddy!!
Fundy: i’m literally taller than you.

He sighed, letting a smile cross his face, and sent another message.

Fundy: but that sounds nice
HBomb: yay!!!
HBomb: you know you love me really <3
Fundy: don’t push your luck

He put his phone away and, bolstered by the thought of seeing his friend soon, opened the door. No sooner had he stepped inside than Tubbo jumped up from his seat and grabbed his arm, a sparkle in his eye.

“Fundy!” he said, pulling him towards the stairs. “Come on!”

“Wha- me?”

“Is there another Fundy?”

He twisted out of Tubbo’s grasp so he could put his things away, eyes darting towards the others – Wilbur relaxing with a book, Phil making dinner, and Tommy, who’d paused in cutting out some fabric to give Fundy a sour look.

“What did you want?” Fundy asked Tubbo, hanging his jacket up.

“It’s a secret!” he said, leaning in close.

“A secret.” He could only think of one secret he and Tubbo shared, and he didn’t know why Tubbo would want to talk about something magic with him.

“Yeah! It’s about the thing I was going to get you, y’know? And- and some other stuff-”

“You sound like a drug dealer,” Wilbur called, not looking up from his book, and Tubbo stuck his tongue out at him.

“Maybe I am!” And then he looked back at Fundy and grabbed his arm again, exuding excitement. “Come on!”

Trying to ignore the way Tommy was glaring daggers at him, Fundy shrugged and let Tubbo drag him upstairs. They went all the way up to Fundy’s room, where Tubbo took a moment to grin at the sight of all the toys still on the ceiling as Fundy took a seat on the edge of his bed.

“So, what’s this about?” he asked, giving Tubbo an expectant look.

“Magic!” Tubbo said, stepping closer. “I didn’t manage to actually steal anything yet, unfortunately – Hafu has straight-up locked all the magical thingies away ‘cause she ‘doesn’t trust us’ or something-”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“-but I can tell you what I learned!” Tubbo said, breezing past his comment. “And maybe we could figure out how to get your magic working!”

“What makes you so sure I have magic?” he asked, stomach flipping. “Hafu and Jack didn’t seem to think so.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no harm in trying, right?” Tubbo paused, stifling a smile. “Well, maybe some harm. Depends how we try.”

“Because that’s not terrifying.” He sighed and rubbed at his cheek, Wednesday’s events weighing on his mind. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t!” Tubbo’s tone was cheerful and brutally honest. “But I don’t not care either, and it seems fun.”

He took a moment to weigh up his options. It wasn’t that he thought Tubbo would be as cruel as Hafu and Jack about the whole magic thing, it was that he couldn’t trust he wouldn’t be – with that kind of motivation, Fundy figured it was a fifty-fifty chance whether his reaction to Fundy not having magic would be to not care or to poke fun at him, and those weren’t great odds. Still, if there was a chance – even a slight chance – that Tubbo could help Fundy figure out his magic, shouldn’t he take it? And this was a far safer environment than those creepy monster-infested corridors under the school, to be fair. He tried to shake off his discomfort.

“Okay,” he said with far more confidence than he felt.

“Okay!”

Tubbo leaned forward and poked him in the forehead. Fundy had only a brief moment to feel confused before his stomach swooped and he realised he was lifting into the air, just like his toys – slower than they had, sure, but it was still disconcerting. He flailed, reaching for the bedframe, but his fingers just barely brushed it and he kept lifting.

“What the fuck?” he asked, twisting in the air to try and find something to slow his ascent – it really was a strange sensation, to fall so slowly and in a direction his mind knew was up but his body was convinced was down. He hit the ceiling with a gentle thud and lifted his gaze, heart hammering, to look down at Tubbo. “I- You- What the fuck? Why?”

“Hafu and Ranboo both figured their powers out with a healthy dose of adrenaline,” Tubbo said, watching him intently. “Or, well, probably not healthy, but that doesn’t really matter.”

“So what, you’re hoping to scare me into having magic?”

“Pretty much!” He lifted up onto his tiptoes. “Did it work?”

“No! No it did not!”

“Really?” He sighed and dropped back down, mouth twisting. “Damn. Maybe a bigger fright…?”

“I’m plenty scared, thank you very much!” He pressed his hands against his eyes, taking even breaths and trying to convince his brain that he was lying on the floor. It didn’t work.

“I’m assuming Hafu told you about the focusing on your ribs thing?” Tubbo asked.

“She did!”

“And you’re trying that now?”

He took a deep breath and turned his attention to his chest – which felt the same as ever – and tried to will himself to use magic. Still, nothing happened. “Yes,” he said sharply, clinging to his anger over his fear or gut-wrenching disappointment. “I’m trying and nothing’s happening!”

There was another thud and he looked over, finding Tubbo sitting on the ceiling beside him. “Well,” Tubbo said, patting his shoulder, “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Hafu said that some of the other members of the student council – all the ones who’ve left now – were able to use magic items even if they couldn’t go through the door. I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to use them!”

“Knowing my luck, I’d probably blow myself up,” Fundy muttered, propping himself up on his elbows. He was still uncomfortable looking down at the room – his bed seemed so far away – but if he just focused on Tubbo and the toys piled behind him, he could almost convince himself this was normal. “But, um… thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

He glanced towards the floor. “Uh, do you think we could go down now?”

“Ugh, fine,” he said, holding Fundy’s shoulder more firmly. They started falling back down, but they moved so slowly that Fundy barely even noticed they’d moved at all. When they reached the floor again, Tubbo kept a hold of him as gravity resettled on them both – it felt too strong now, which was a fucking weird sensation – and once it had, he stepped away.

Fundy rolled his shoulders, grimacing at how his shirt settled across them, before sitting back on the bed, his legs crossed beneath him. They still had a couple more minutes before dinner, probably, so he asked Tubbo, “How is the magic stuff going?”

“Oh, it’s going great,” Tubbo said, bouncing in place. “We’ve been training with our magic and it’s all so cool – I have gravity magic!”

“That… makes sense.” About as much sense as magic existing at all, but Fundy figured they were past the point of taking issue with that.

“Yeah! Kinda bummed I can’t talk to bees – yet – but it’s still so-” He flapped his hands, words failing him, and Fundy smiled at his obvious excitement. “I can muck up the gravity of me and other people and other objects,” he continued, before pointing up at the toys on the ceiling. “They’re never coming down, by the way. They think that’s down now, so until I undo that, they’re just going to stay there. And if you took them outside they’d just – woop!” He flung his hands up. “Into space! I don’t actually know where they’d end up…”

“Please don’t yeet my toys into space,” he said, voice flat. “And- and how are you so sure they’d never come down? I mean, it’s not like you’ve really left them up there that long.”

“I’m sure. I can feel it.” He tapped his sternum. “My power activates when I adjust things – adjust the gravity on things – whatever, but that’s it. Keeping them up there isn’t drawing on my power, so it makes sense that it’s permanent, right?”

“I guess.”

“I might be able to fly someday, if I get good enough control of it,” Tubbo continued, starting to pace. “I could probably crush people – I should save that for the monsters, though. Probably. Depends if anyone needs crushing.”

“Why would someone need crushing?” he asked, staring up at the toys.

“Juice.”

He considered that answer for a moment. “Actually, no, let’s talk about something else.”

“I think I can poison people too!” Tubbo said, staring down at his hands as he flexed them. “I definitely did something to Hafu earlier when we were practising – she healed it up quick, but I still think that’s… I don’t know, weird. I don’t feel like that makes sense as magic powers, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” he said, shrugging, “I guess it isn’t that weird, considering Hafu and Cup’s powers – they’re siblings, and they actually share magic?”

“Share magic?” Fundy repeated. Then, “Wait, what kind of name is Cup?”

“Shrug.”

“Did you really just say-”

“Anyway,” Tubbo said, holding his hands up, “they have, like, two sets of powers? That they can swap.” He flicked his hands back and forth, as if to indicate this power-swapping. “But they can’t have both, it’s either or – but their powers, right, their powers are either fire-based and they can heal themselves, or it’s ice-based and they can heal others! So, I guess me being all poisony and being able to affect gravity isn’t that weird.”

Fundy tried to work through Tubbo’s explanation. “I… feel like I understand even less now, honestly.”

“That’s fair,” he said, letting his hands drop. “Anyway, the others- well, Ranboo can teleport – basic, but cool – and Tommy has wings, but he also did something weird with light when we were testing things out? He couldn’t recreate it, but I don’t think he’s just got wings.” Tubbo shrugged and rocked back on his heels, wearing a thoughtful expression. “Ranboo’s the only one who doesn’t think he can do something else, but, to be fair, he hasn’t really tried. He was scared to even try out his teleportation! He kept being worried he’d stick himself in a wall or something – which would be horrifying, I admit.”

“What about Jack?” Fundy asked, staring down at the floor. He felt like he was doing something wrong by asking – that he was overstepping a boundary, though the boundary had never been established.

“He hasn’t said,” Tubbo said, folding his arms. “I haven’t seen him around much since the Wednesday, when he stormed out pretty quick after we got there – he’d been in the middle of some massive argument with Hafu, and then he went to gank some monsters. He looked…” He hesitated, pulling a face.

“Ill?”

“Yeah.”

Fundy frowned and didn’t say anything further, though he could feel Tubbo’s curious stare burning a hole through him. Honestly, he was surprised Tubbo hadn’t asked the question that was obviously on his mind – Tubbo never had much of a filter, even at the best of times.

“Do you think you have any of those?” Tubbo asked instead. “You could have been trying the wrong thing – like, you might be trying to do fire stuff when you don’t even have fire magic. Maybe try, like, vwooping yourself across the room or something.”

“I don’t know.” He tried imagining himself teleporting or healing or- or any of what Tubbo had just talked about, keeping his mind focused on his sternum. After a few seconds he shook his head. “No, I-”

“Dinner’s ready!” Phil called from downstairs, making them both jump.

“That was pretty much everything,” Tubbo said quickly, heading to the ladder. “I mean, we can keep trying things, and if Hafu teaches us anything more, I’ll tell you – oh, and I’ll definitely steal a magic doodad for you soon! Hafu can’t keep me away from them forever!”

“Please a not-dangerous doodad.”

“No promises!”

Fundy sighed and followed Tubbo down the ladder and to the kitchen table. Tommy and Wilbur were already seated and Phil was bringing the plates over – Fundy took one of the empty seats and tried to ignore the way Tommy seemed to be trying to set him on fire with his mind. He was real glad Tommy could apparently only control his wings, which were way too noticeable for him to just attack Fundy with.

When Phil sat, Wilbur held up a hand. “Before we start,” he said, looking around the table, “I’ve got some great news! We’re visiting Techno this weekend!”

Fundy was dimly aware of Tommy cheering, though it was hard to focus with the tight feeling in his chest. Of all the weekends for a surprise visit… The universe really did hate him, didn’t it? As the others started eating and discussing the visit, he took deep breaths to try and settle himself and, after a few moments – maybe seconds, maybe minutes – he asked, “Can I stay behind?”

“What?” Wilbur frowned at him. “No – Fundy, you’re 17, you can’t stay in the house on your own!”

“You’ve left me on my own before!”

“That was when I knew you couldn’t get into any trouble. When I was sure you couldn’t get out of the house – something I can’t be sure of any longer.” He sighed and placed his cutlery down. “I don’t understand what your problem is, Fundy. It’s like you don’t even want to be part of this family.”

Fundy’s face grew hot and he looked at the others – Tommy and Tubbo were looking back and forth as though this were a particularly engrossing tennis match while Phil was calmly pretending he couldn’t hear a word either of them were saying.

“I- I do,” he protested weakly, “but I-”

“Well, that settles it. This is a family visit. Techno’s a part of the family and we don’t get to visit him often, so this will be nice.” He nodded, his words carrying an air of finality.

“But I promised someone I’d go out with them this weekend,” he said. “We’re going to the movies, and-”

“You’ll have to reschedule.”

“But they’re only playing Treasure Planet this Sunday!”

“Fundy, stop being such a child – we’re going to visit Techno and that’s that.”

“But this isn’t fair,” he said, looking over at Phil. “I’ve already bought the tickets – can’t we reschedule visiting Techno? Or- or come back early, or something?”

Phil’s gaze softened and he turned to Wilbur. “I’m sure there’s no harm in waiting ‘til next weekend, Wil.”

“What?” Tommy sat up straight in his chair, glaring at Fundy before giving Phil a pleading look – Fundy knew, in that moment, that he’d lost. “I want to see Techno, though! I don’t see why you have to punish us just ‘cause of Fundy!”

“Well…” Phil frowned and Fundy’s heart sank.

“But can’t you just leave me here, then?” he asked, one last attempt. “I promise I won’t get into any trouble, I-”

“No, we can’t do that,” Phil said firmly. “Sorry, buddy – there’ll be other movies next weekend.”

He shoved away from the table and ran out the front door, unable to bear sitting at that table any longer. Wilbur was shouting behind him, but he was delayed by having to put his shoes on – Fundy winced as he stepped on a rock, wishing he’d remembered to do the same.

Wilbur would see him if he went to Schlatt’s, so he turned and started running down the road, trying to think of where he could go. Niki’s shop was too far – already, he could feel his energy starting to flag – and Eret was even further. Jack was slightly closer, but even if he could make it there, he didn’t know if Jack would want to see him right now. He almost thought he was out of luck when a thought occurred to him and he cut through an alley to a street he’d not visited in several weeks. With a quick scan of the road to make sure Wil and Phil weren’t in sight, he ran up to HBomb’s house and knocked on the door.

HBomb’s mother answered it, her eyes lighting up with recognition and a faint concern. “Fundy? What are you doing here?”

He tried to get his breathing under control. “Hi, Miss Tyfore,” he said, giving her his politest smile. “I- I heard HBomb was back and wanted to visit him.”

“And your shoes?”

He looked down, smile faltering. “I, uh… lost them? And this was closer than home – my uncle’s going to bring me my spare pair when he gets the chance, I just-”

“Well, you’d better come inside,” she said, stepping back to let him in. “We’re going to be having dinner soon – I’m sure we could get you a plate of something too, if you’re going to be staying long?”

“I’m alright,” he said. “I really won’t be long, I just wanted to see H and arrange to meet my uncle.”

“Can I get you a drink or anything, at least?”

His throat burned but he shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.” She gave him a tight smile before turning away and calling, “H! Fundy’s here to see you!”

“Oh!” HBomb appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes darting over Fundy’s awkward smile and socked feet. After a moment he beamed, like there was nothing unusual about this situation at all. “Fundy! Good to see you – come on, come up!”

“Thanks.” He nodded to HBomb’s mother and went up the stairs, following HBomb to his room.

It looked very different now than it used to – most of the furniture was gone, and several cardboard boxes covered the floor that HBomb seemed to be in the middle of sorting clothes and books into. It was honestly weird seeing it so empty, especially since the rest of the house had seemed as cluttered with knick-knacks as ever.

“What’s up with those?” he asked.

“You know how I moved out a few months back?” HBomb said, shaking one of the shirts out. “Well, I left some of my stuff here – moving to a new city is hard! And I only have a little shitty car, so I couldn’t carry everything.” He shrugged and tossed the shirt into one of the boxes. “So every time I visit, I take a little bit more back with me, and soon they’ll finally have the room back.” He paused to grin at Fundy. “I’m guessing it’ll be about two weeks before the room’s filled with gran’s pottery.”

“Oh, okay.” He carefully picked his way between the boxes until he found an empty patch of floor to sit on.

“But what about you?” HBomb asked. “I thought we were meeting up tomorrow – not that I’m not happy to see you, but-” He looked Fundy over pointedly. “Well, what happened?”

“I got in a fight with my dad,” he said. When HBomb gave him an expectant look he continued, “He just decided that we’re visiting Techno this weekend – you know Techno, right?”

“Family friend, right? With all the dogs?”

“Yeah. And…” Fundy dropped his gaze to the floor. “Well, he wasn’t too happy with me already having plans. He just refused to reschedule or let me stay back – even though he’d done that before! And I’ve bought the tickets, and Treasure Planet’s literally only showing Sunday, and- I don’t know.”

“So, then you… ran out?” HBomb asked, kneeling to close one of the boxes. “Without shoes?”

He shrugged, pulling at a loose thread in the carpet. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I’m sure it did,” he said with a laugh. “And I’m sure it stopped seeming like a good idea – oh, about ten steps down the road?”

He shot a withering look in HBomb’s direction. “You know, I really missed your warm comfort,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Is this a situation that requires comfort?” he asked, looking up quickly. “‘Cause I can totally comfort!” He held his arms out, hands making grabby motions, and gave Fundy a bright grin. “Come here, let me comfort you!”

“No, it- I’m fine.”

“Come on!”

He batted away HBomb’s hands, an uncomfortable itch just beneath his skin. “I don’t want that kind of comfort,” he said, avoiding HBomb’s gaze.

HBomb shrugged and started sealing up a box. “Your loss. What kind of comfort did you want?”

Nothing he thought he could get here – HBomb was great for distractions and for a laugh if he was in the right mood, but Fundy’s feet stung and his lungs and throat ached and his stomach twisted in on itself, a reminder that he hadn’t had dinner yet. He tugged his sleeves down, glancing towards the window. What he really needed was to get some things from home, but going outside was a terrifying thought.

“Could I borrow your phone?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from the sliver of sky.

“Don’t go looking through my search history – whatever you see in there was for a joke, anyway,” HBomb said, tossing it over.

“I don’t want to know,” he said, sending off a message to Tubbo.

HBomb: hey, this is Fundy, have things calmed down yet?
Tubbo: nope!
Tubbo: Phil’s driving around the area and Wil’s gone into town to look for you – they’re fucking pissed
Tubbo: i think they’re still planning to leave tomorrow tho, so if you avoid them until then, you should be good
HBomb: okay – do you think you could bring me my things? shoes and jacket and phone?
Tubbo: ballsy move
Tubbo: but okay
Tubbo: where?

He frowned to himself, trying to think of a safe place to meet. He couldn’t risk inviting Tubbo over here – HBomb’s place only worked as a sanctuary because Fundy’s family barely knew he existed – so he needed somewhere off the roads that wasn’t in town, to reduce the risk of running into either Wilbur or Phil.

HBomb: the park near home
Tubbo: see you in five!

He handed HBomb’s phone back. “I’d better go,” he said. “I’m meeting Tubbo in the park.”

“You’re not seriously walking to the park without shoes, are you?” HBomb asked, frowning at him. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift-”

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. He stood and glanced out the window again, trying to figure out the safest route there. “Tell your mother I said thanks,” he said, “and, uh, could you say that my uncle met me outside?”

“No, at least let me drive you partway,” HBomb said, also standing. “It’s the least I can do!”

“I-”

“I’ll spam your phone with catmaid pictures if you don’t let me help,” he said, with far more seriousness than that kind of threat warranted.

Fundy pulled a face. “What the fuck?”

“Okay, let’s go!” He grabbed Fundy’s hand and pulled him along. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back soon, just giving Fundy a lift!”

HBomb’s mother poked her head through the dining room door to smile at them. “Okay, stay safe! It was good seeing you again, Fundy!”

He forced a smile. “Uh, thanks – you too!” Once they were outside, he pulled away from HBomb and tried one last time to protest. “I’ll be fine-”

“Fundy.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Shut up and let me help.” And then he went over to his car. With a sigh, Fundy followed.

The ride was awkward – too short to talk about things, but somehow still feeling agonisingly long. When they were a street away from the park, Fundy asked HBomb to pull over and let him out. To his relief, he obliged.

“Do you still want to hang out tomorrow?” HBomb asked as he reached for the handle.

“Yeah, of course!”

He grinned. “Okay. Let me know when you get home!”

Fundy nodded and left, looking around to check Wil wasn’t nearby. He didn’t seem to be, but Fundy was still tense as he went to the park.

He was relieved when he saw Tubbo waiting for him, shoes in hand and jacket over his arm, and though he wasn’t overjoyed to see Tommy at his side, at least that seemed to be the only other person around. They seemed subdued as they greeted Fundy and handed everything over. He thanked them and sat to pull his shoes on.

“What’s with the sour faces?” he asked, glancing up at them.

“Wilbur’s well pissed,” Tommy said, rocking back on his heels. There was something accusatory in his eyes, so Fundy looked away. “He said it was very immature of you to run out like that.”

“It’s weird for you, of all people, to call me immature,” Fundy said.

“I just don’t get your problem!” Tommy said, ignoring his words as Tubbo hid a smile behind his hand. “Techno’s cool, why don’t you want to visit him?”

“It’s not about Techno.” He sighed and stood, kicking his heels against the ground to help his shoes sit right. With that done, he continued, “I have a date! And that isn’t something that happens, okay? And Treasure Planet is only in theatres this weekend, and- and we visit Techno all the time! This,” he spread his arms, “is literally once in a lifetime. So.”

Tommy frowned at him. “But you don’t visit Techno all the time. You stay home, like, half the time.”

“So I really don’t get why Wilbur’s insisting I come along this time.”

“But it’s a family visit!” Tommy scoffed and stepped back, his eyes tight. “Wil’s right – it’s like you don’t want to be part of this family.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” he asked, heart in his throat. “It’s not like this family wants me either.”

“I know I don’t,” Tommy said darkly. He paused for a moment, as though waiting to see if Fundy would respond, before he turned on his heel and started walking away. Tubbo shrugged at Fundy and followed him. Fundy watched them leave in silence.

His phone, when he checked it, was flooded with messages and calls from Wilbur – he wondered how long it had taken Wil to realise he’d left his phone behind, or if he even had at all. There were also some messages from Niki and Eret that suggested Wil had visited them, and he felt a stab of guilt that they had to deal with that. He called Niki back.

“Fundy!” she said, picking up quickly. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I promise! I, uh…” He grimaced, trying to figure out what to say. “I got into a fight with Wil?”

“I heard,” she said. “He said you ran away?”

“Yeah, I hung out at a friend’s – do you remember HBomb?”

“I do.” Her voice softened, losing its worried edge. “I’m glad you’re safe. Is there anything you need?”

“No, I’m alright,” he said, smiling. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course.”

He wanted to say more, but time was pressing on and the longer he stayed out, the greater the risk he’d be found – plus, he’d forgotten to put his phone on charge when he got home, so he was very aware that it would probably run out of battery soon. “I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know if anything changes, alright?” he said, glancing towards the park entrance. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She was silent for a moment before saying, “Okay. Keep safe, Fundy.”

“Thanks.”

They said goodbye and he hung up, calling Eret immediately after.

“Fundy?”

“Hi, Eret.”

They sighed, relief palpable. “I’m very glad to hear from you. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” He started making his way towards the street, eyes scanning the passing cars and crowds. “Sorry about Wil-”

“There’s no need for you to apologise on Wilbur’s behalf.” They paused before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Not- not right now,” he said, frowning. “Maybe later?”

“Of course,” they said, and Fundy relaxed slightly. “Do you know what you’re going to do now? You don’t have to tell me what they are, but I would appreciate knowing that you’re at least safe.”

“I… I have somewhere to stay tonight.” He fell silent as he crossed the street and turned down the road that led home – his eyes were trained on his house, heart in his throat. “I’ll be working at the shop like normal,” he told Eret, lowering his voice, “so I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” they said, their voice warm and comforting even through the crappy phone speaker. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

He ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket, hurrying towards Schlatt’s house. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he called out, “Hey, can I stay here tonight?”

Schlatt stepped into the kitchen doorframe, one eyebrow raised. “Get into another fight with your old man?” he asked. “He was around here earlier.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He frowned, pausing in the middle of taking his shoes off. “He didn’t do anything bad, did he?”

“He didn’t punch me this time, if that’s what you’re asking. The terrible twins were watching, so I guess he was on his best behaviour.”

“Right.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“I can get myself-”

Schlatt gave him a flat look, not moving aside. “What drink do you want?”

Recognising that Schlatt wasn’t going to budge on this, he said, “Hot chocolate?”

“Okay.” He pointed over to the mantelpiece, where a stack of takeaway flyers lay beside some DVDs. “Have you eaten yet?

“No.”

“Figure out what you want and let me know.”

He nodded and went to look through the flyers as Schlatt returned to the kitchen. The knot of tension that had lodged itself in his chest finally started to relax as he settled into the familiar routine, giving Schlatt his order when he came through and picking a movie from the DVDs. They were all kids movies, Treasure Planet holding pride of place at the top of the pile, but since he’d be seeing it in a couple of days he chose one of the others to put on. While Schlatt ordered their food, Fundy settled himself in his chair and got the movie – Rise of the Guardians – ready to play, glancing over at the radiator beside him to check his hot chocolate was atop it.

Maybe it was because he’d just been to HBomb’s house, which was… cluttered, to put it nicely, but he was struck all over again by how bare Schlatt’s house was. There were no personal touches anywhere save for Fundy’s room – technically Schlatt’s spare room – and there were hardly even any pieces of useful furniture. Though Schlatt had bought a second armchair some years ago, there were no tables to put plates and cups on, and this was still one of the more lived-in rooms.

Fundy wondered, briefly, what would happen to Schlatt when he left – it wasn’t that he looked after Schlatt per se, but he remembered when he first started coming around, when there was food rotting in the fridge and cupboards and dust on every surface and the towels in the bathroom had bloodstains from shaving that Schlatt hadn’t bothered to clean or swap out. Even if this place still didn’t feel like a home, it at least didn’t feel like a grave anymore. How long before that changed?

“Something on your mind?” Schlatt asked, putting his phone away.

Fundy shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts. “Nope! How long ‘til the pizza?”

“Half an hour.” He sat down and picked his mug up from the floor. When he saw the TV he paused, brow twitching. “Not Treasure Planet?”

“It’s in theatres this weekend,” he said, pulling his legs up. “I’ve got plans to watch it with- with a friend, so I figured we could watch something else tonight?”

“Fine by me,” he said with an easy shrug. “I don’t remember this one though – oh, is this the one where Santa has swords?”

“Yeah!”

He grinned, little more than a flash of teeth. “Should be fun.”

Fundy nodded and pressed play, slipping the remote under his chair where he wouldn’t accidentally knock it. A movie, a hot drink, and a pizza on the way – this was far more pleasant than what he’d left behind.

~

Much later, after they’d eaten and watched a few more movies, he went up to his room, smiling up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that were plastered over the ceiling. There was a phone charger still plugged in from the last time he was here, so he put his phone on charge as he gathered his spare pyjamas and toiletries from the dresser. When his phone lit up to reveal even more messages from Wilbur, his smile fell into a grimace. He didn’t want to call Wilbur – didn’t want to risk him figuring out where Fundy was, or even just ruining Fundy’s day further – but he couldn’t keep himself from going to kneel on the bed and looking towards the other end of the street.

After a few seconds, Wilbur stepped out. Even at a distance, it was easy to recognise his yellow sweatshirt, as well as the tell-tale dim glow of him lighting up a cigarette. Fundy rested his forehead against the glass, stomach churning.

The first time he’d seen Wilbur smoke had been from this very window, one of the first times Fundy had stayed over at Schlatt’s. At the time, he’d wondered if it was his fault Wilbur was smoking, that maybe the stress of his disappearance had driven him to that point. Now he’d seen it enough that he knew that wasn’t the case. While his disappearances probably didn’t help, it seemed to just be a part of Wilbur’s routine; to wait until the rest of the house was in bed and head out to smoke.

He shook himself and picked up his things, heading through to the bathroom. The cigarette was a sign he should really be sleeping – whatever reason Wil had for smoking it was none of his concern.

Chapter Text

Fundy didn’t see exactly when his family left the next morning – sometime between him getting up and him leaving the house, Phil’s car disappeared, and that was that. He ignored the messages and calls from Wilbur and carried on with his day.

Puffy had some stern words for him at work and there was a shadow in Niki’s eyes, like there always was when Wil came by, so it was hard for Fundy to really settle into his normal routine. Even that meagre attempt fell apart when Eret came by, as they asked about yesterday again and, being on his break at the time, Fundy couldn’t find any reason not to talk about it.

“Wil told us over dinner that we were visiting Techno this weekend,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I asked if I could be left behind – which he’s done before! – or if we could reschedule the visit, or even if we could just come back early, but he just… he refused.”

“I see.”

He leaned against the wall, glancing towards the front of the shop – they were standing out of the way, but he could still see Puffy giving him hard looks. He didn’t want to talk about the specifics where just anyone could overhear, but he didn’t really have anyone else to share it with and he could feel Wilbur’s words like a physical weight across his shoulders.

“It didn’t feel fair,” he admitted, turning his gaze towards the floor. “I’d been trying to follow Wilbur’s rules and I just wanted to enjoy the weekend, but- but he wouldn’t listen to me.” He shrugged, folding his arms, and added, “He called me a child.”

“Oh, Fundy-”

“I know I shouldn’t have ran away,” he said before Eret could bring it up, “I know I should have told him about my plans sooner, I know I- I messed up, I-”

“I can’t say what would have been the right thing to do,” they said.

“But I was immature! I let my emotions get the better of me and- and ran off!” He frowned, feeling Puffy’s gaze like knives against his skin. “Like I always do.”

They shifted to the side, blocking Puffy’s line of sight – probably unintentionally, but it helped a bit. “It sounds like you were in a difficult situation.” Now that Fundy was paying attention he realised their voice was even – it was gentle – and he dug his thumb into his arm to keep himself from reaching out.

Still, he had to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

“Never.” The response was instant. When Fundy didn’t relax, they put a hand on his arm and said, “Fundy, I promise you, I’m not mad. I don’t blame you. I can’t speak for anyone else, but if you’re worried at all about me thinking worse of you for what happened, that is not the case. Okay?”

He leaned into Eret’s grip. It was hard to get the word out, but he made himself say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He glimpsed their smile in his periphery. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

“No, but-” He hesitated, gaze darting towards the shop again. He didn’t have long before his break was over. “But, can we talk a bit longer anyway?”

“Of course,” they said easily. “I’m always happy to talk to you.”

They talked for another few minutes – not about anything important, but it still helped to improve Fundy’s mood. The only thing that brought it down was Eret’s suggestion to talk with Wilbur when he got back. He promised he would, because he owed Eret at least that, but he couldn’t deny the thought was a daunting one.

~

After work, he texted HBomb to let him know he was free. It wasn’t long before HBomb’s car pulled up and he got out, greeting Fundy cheerfully.

“Hey!” he said, smile as sunny as ever. “How’s the shop life going?”

“Shoppy.”

“Makes sense.” He looked up at the building, spinning his keys around a finger. “Should we grab some snacks?”

“Sure,” Fundy said with a shrug, and he followed HBomb back inside. “How’d you spend your day, then? More packing?”

“Yep, literally just packing,” he said, waving at Niki and Puffy before heading over to the shelves. He looked everything over for a few seconds, humming thoughtfully. “Hey, are we inviting anyone else?”

“Who else would we invite?” Fundy asked, hoping the words came across as joking and knowing HBomb likely wouldn’t take them seriously even if he failed. “All your friends are off in the big city, and all mine are non-existent.”

“What about Jack?”

“I don’t-” He hesitated, looking away. “We got in an argument – we’re not really speaking at the moment.”

“Damn, you get in arguments a lot, don’t you?” HBomb said absently, picking up a box of cupcakes.

Fundy pulled a face at the back of his head. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“Mhm, sure.” HBomb swapped the box for a different one and went to look at the cookies. “So, are we just going to be eating sugar for dinner, or do we have other plans?”

“Bold of you to assume I ever have plans.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted and Jack was forgotten.

They bought their snacks, HBomb taking the opportunity to catch up with Niki, and when they left, HBomb suggested Fundy drive them back. Fundy had had his licence for a few months now, but he rarely got the chance to drive and was half-worried he’d forget while he saved up for an actual car, so he was grateful for the offer – he was less grateful for the way HBomb pretended to be scared out of his mind on the drive back. Still, he could cope with HBomb being in one of his annoying moods for an evening, no matter how much the that wasn’t really a speedbump comments made his skin crawl.

But, once they got in, those jokes stopped. They huddled around the laptop HBomb had brought with him, bouncing between a few different games before ending up watching a Netflix show HBomb recommended, which ended up leading to a very heated discussion about who the main character should end up with – a discussion where HBomb was completely and utterly wrong, of course. They were so caught up in this discussion that they only realised it had gotten late when HBomb’s phone chimed. Fundy checked the time on his own phone with a grimace.

“We should figure out food,” he said, leaning against HBomb’s knees – he’d shoved his feet under Fundy’s legs to warm them, and though it had taken a while for Fundy to adjust to the casual contact, he couldn’t say he disliked it. At least HBomb hadn’t made any weird jokes. “And also when you’re leaving.”

“Aw, want to be rid of me so quickly?” HBomb asked with a pout, his gaze fixed on his phone as he tapped something out.

“No comment.”

“Well, could I stay the night?” he asked, gaze flicking up. “Probably going to be easier and safer than me heading back after food – unless you’re just not going to feed me.”

He folded his arms across HBomb’s knees and rested his chin atop, frowning to himself. “We don’t have a spare bedroom, though.”

“I could always share with you-”

“A world of no.”

He laughed and set his phone aside. “But seriously, I could just take the couch. It’s comfy!”

“If you’re sure.” Despite everything, he could admit to himself that he was glad HBomb would be staying longer – he really had missed him. Getting to hang out like this and be just a normal teenager for an evening was fun, probably the most fun Fundy’d had since… well, since HBomb had left. He poked HBomb’s leg, averting his gaze as he added, “Well, guest gets to choose the takeaway.”

“Pizza?”

“Except that – I had pizza yesterday.”

“I hate you.”

He laughed and stood to grab the collection of takeaway flyers Phil hadn’t yet thrown out. They managed to find somewhere that did pizza and burgers, which they were both happy with, and they watched more of the show as they ate, ending up finishing the show off as HBomb promised there weren’t that many more episodes left, and kept promising that for what felt like far too many episodes. It had been a fun night, even if Fundy went to bed far too late.

When the morning rolled around, they split the remains of HBomb’s pizza for breakfast and HBomb gave him a lift to Niki’s, seeming very amused by Fundy’s early-morning grumpiness and utterly shameless about the part he’d had to play in Fundy’s lack of sleep. He ended up hanging around the shop for a while – he promised Niki he absolutely, positively, would not distract Fundy from his work, and then he proceeded to spend the next hour grilling Fundy about his upcoming date and the where and the when and the what and the are you going to be wearing that and the are you going to get him flowers and on and on and on-

Even after HBomb left, Fundy still felt distracted. The date drew closer with every passing second, and HBomb’s words had him second-guessing literally everything. He was, admittedly, a bit of a wreck when his shift finally ended, and before he could work himself up further, he grabbed a bouquet of tulips, figuring roses might be a bit much for a first date. Niki let him have them for free and wished him luck as he left. He tried to give her a smile in response. It probably came out more like a grimace.

Dream hadn’t arrived by the time he got to the cinema. He took a seat and played a game on his phone as he waited, trying to remind himself that he was just early and this was fine.

“Fundy!”

He looked up, heart leaping into his throat, and felt a wave of relief mixed with all new nerves as Dream approached. “Hi!” he said as he stood.

“Hey, hope you weren’t waiting long!” He greeted Fundy with a casual kiss on the cheek and Fundy’s brain stopped working for a few seconds.

“Uh, I…” He couldn’t remember what Dream had said. He blinked, then suddenly remembered the flowers and held them out. “These are for you!”

“Oh, thank you!” Dream smiled at them, the tips of his ears turning red. “I’ve, uh, never been given flowers before,” he said, laughing slightly.

“What, really?”

“Really!” He turned the bouquet, examining it from different angles. “What are they?”

“Tulips. I thought they were pretty, so…”

“They’re very pretty,” Dream said, and Fundy relaxed a little. “I don’t really know what to do with them, though. I didn’t bring a bag – they’d probably get crushed in there anyway. Damn.”

Right, they’d probably be awkward to keep hold of through the movie. He checked his phone – they had a bit of time before they had to head in. “I could take them back to the shop?” he offered. “We can pick them up again later – or, if you live nearby, you could just drop them at home?”

“I don’t live far,” he said with a slight hesitance, “but the shop might be closer. I- What shop are you talking about?”

“Oh – Rainbow Treats, over on Knightly Street. It’s a joint florist and bakery – and café, and they sell ice cream – that I work at. It kinda does a lot of things,” he said with a laugh. “Uh, do you know it?”

“No, Knightly Street is a bit out of the way for me.” Dream checked the time too, pulling a face. “Okay, I’ll run these home – I promise I’ll be back before the trailers are over!”

“Sorry about-”

“Don’t apologise,” he said with a bright smile. “I love them, really.” He kissed Fundy’s cheek again and ran before he could say anything more.

His face burning, Fundy went inside to sort out their tickets. To his surprise, Dream returned as soon as he was done, flushed from the run.

“Wow, that was quick,” he said, passing Dream his ticket. “You must live really close.”

“I actually ran into my brother, and he agreed to take them back for me,” Dream said, sweeping his hair back from his face. “So that worked out! Do you want any snacks?”

“I can buy them!”

“You bought the tickets and got me flowers – let me get this.” Dream stepped past him, perusing the bags of candy. “You like liquorice, right?”

“I… didn’t expect you to remember something like that.”

Dream grinned at him as he grabbed one of the bags. “I have a great memory for things like that.”

“What, random people’s candy preferences?” he asked, looking at the menu to try and avoid blushing yet again.

“I like remembering what people like,” Dream said simply. “I’ve got a whole list – it’s maybe a little creepy, I admit.”

“A little,” he said with a laugh.

“But it comes in handy at times like this!” He stopped beside Fundy, looking up at the menu too. “Want to get some popcorn to share?”

“Depends what kind of popcorn you like.”

“Toffee, of course.”

“I like salted.”

Dream stared at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Nothing! I just like salted popcorn, that’s all!” He laughed at Dream’s narrow-eyed look, as though he thought Fundy were saying this just to mess with him. “Obviously I’m not the only one, otherwise it wouldn’t be an option.”

“I’ll get us separate popcorns then,” Dream said, shaking his head. “Do you want a drink?”

“It’s really fine, I can get myself-”

“It’s just a drink, you don’t need to make a fuss over it.” Dream tilted his head, suspicion returning. “Unless you’ve got terrible taste in drinks too?”

He glanced over the menu. “Raspberry slush?”

“Oh thank God, I thought you were about to ask for cherry coke or something.”

“I’ve never had cherry coke – kinda want to try it now-”

Dream elbowed him and went to stand in the queue, but he was laughing as he went. Fundy allowed himself to grin as he followed.

“Have you ever watched Treasure Planet before?” he asked, glancing towards the clock to check they were still on track.

“No, actually,” Dream said. “I did see it on Netflix the other day and almost put it on – y’know, I was curious why it was your favourite – but,” he shrugged, giving Fundy a fond smile, “I thought it would be better to wait and see it with you.”

“Oh!”

“I’m looking forward to it, though! I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, so your taste in movies is probably better than your taste in food.”

“Hey!”

Dream laughed again, jostling Fundy’s shoulder with his. “I’m joking, I’m joking.”

He rolled his eyes – but, despite Dream’s teasing, he was surprised to find he wasn’t that upset. Dream just seemed so happy, it was impossible to take his comments to heart.

They bought their snacks and headed into the theatre, Fundy trying to dispel his lingering anxiety as they sat down. The trailers had already started playing, loud enough that Fundy could barely hear himself think let alone carry a conversation with Dream, and that left room for Fundy to again start wondering why Dream had agreed to go on this date and whether he'd hate the movie. He was soothed somewhat by Dream taking his hand again, rubbing his thumb over the back of Fundy's knuckles.

And then the movie started. Fundy was enraptured within seconds, forgetting all about his nerves. He let himself get swept away in the magic of Jim’s adventure through the stars, which seemed so much grander and more magical on the big screen like this.

“Yeah, I get why it’s your favourite now,” Dream said once it was over. “It was really good.”

He quickly wiped at his eyes – he always cried at Jim and Silver’s final conversation, and he’d been too distracted by the rest of the movie to hide the evidence before the lights had come up. “Uh, yeah! Glad you liked it!”

If Dream noticed his red eyes, he didn’t say anything. “As far as dashing young troublemakers with hearts of gold go,” he said as he stood, “I’d say Jim is probably… number two on my personal ranking.”

“Number two? Who’s number one?”

“You, of course,” he said, sticking his tongue out.

Fundy laughed and got to his feet. “Bold of you to assume I have a heart of gold!”

“You got me flowers,” Dream said, throwing his trash away. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling – it was a silly argument to be having, really. They left the theatre, Dream taking his hand again as they stepped outside. They hadn’t really made a plan for what to do after the movie, but, to his relief, Dream didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.

As he was about to ask what Dream wanted to do next, Dream said, “Can I ask you a question, actually?”

“You just did.” Dream elbowed him in the side and he grinned, before saying, “But, yeah. Go for it.”

“How come you asked me out?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He rubbed at his cheek, gaze slipping to the side. “I mean, look at you!”

“I mean, I get that,” Dream said, tossing his hair with a mocking grin. “I was more asking why now? Two years of you avoiding every attempt I made to ask you out-”

“Wait, what?” He stopped, staring wide-eyed at Dream as he tried to make sense of his words.

Dream tilted his head to one side, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “You really didn’t know?”

“Obviously not!” He shook his head as Dream laughed – it still didn’t make sense to him. “Why?”

“Come on – you’re cool and mysterious-”

“Am not!”

He gave Fundy a look of disbelief. “You literally scaled the gate to get out of school early after asking me on a date. What’s not cool and mysterious about that?”

“It was honestly more of a panic response,” he admitted with a nervous laugh.

“Breaking the rules with cool-ass parkour is your panic response?”

“Yes?”

“Just further serves my point,” Dream said with an air of satisfaction. “But you still haven’t answered why you asked me out – why now?”

“Oh, right.” He sighed and glanced down the street. He wasn’t going to bring up the specifics of Wednesday, especially when there’d been a deeper reason driving him towards the action, but it felt like a dick move to really explain that. Still, he felt like he should be honest. “I kinda figured I should do something while I still had the chance,” he said. “I’m moving to the other side of the country in a month with no plans to ever come back, so… I don’t know. I didn’t want to keep thinking about the what-ifs, y’know?”

Dream frowned, hand twitching in Fundy’s grasp. “Why are you leaving?”

“Basically just a large-scale version of climbing the school gate,” he said with a grin, hoping Dream wouldn’t press the issue.

“So…” Dream gestured with his free hand, frown gaining a confused edge. “What now? We’ve gone on a date – or, well, we’re partway through a date – so is that it?”

“I don’t know?” He forced himself to meet Dream’s gaze, stomach twisting. “It depends on what you want, really,” he made himself say.

He sighed and looked around, staying silent for several seconds. “I’m enjoying today,” he eventually said, though he still didn’t look at Fundy. “And I like you. I just… a few minutes ago, the idea of a second date would have been an easy yes, but this is kind of a lot.”

“Well… how about we do it anyway?” Fundy asked, heart in his throat. “Just for a laugh?”

To his relief, Dream chuckled, leaning against Fundy’s side briefly. “You want me to be your boyfriend, even though it will only be for, what, a month? For a laugh. A compelling argument, to be sure.” That wasn’t a clear yes though, and Dream seemed to realise it too, because he soon added in a thoughtful tone, “And I suppose the journey is more important than the destination, right? That’s a thing people say.”

“It is.” It wasn’t a saying Fundy had ever put stock in, but he might be willing to change his tune if it convinced Dream to go out with him again.

“There we go, then!” Dream gave a sharp nod, a smile spreading across his face.

Fundy had to ask, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” He laughed, tangling their fingers together. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend, Fundy. For a month, at least.”

He relaxed and took a moment to admire how Dream looked in the afternoon light, letting himself smile. “Okay! Boyfriends for a month!”

~

They continued the date for a while longer, getting dinner together and then going for a walk in the park. Fundy had a lot of fun, the date exceeding even his wildest dreams, and as he went back home he didn’t even care that he’d probably be having another argument with Wilbur – it was all completely, absolutely, 100% worth it for that date alone.

Still, his stomach flipped when he saw Phil’s car in the driveway. His mind reached for the usual escape routes – maybe he should go to Schlatt’s for a bit, or maybe he should visit HBomb again to tell him about how the date had gone, or maybe he should go back to Niki’s shop since that would probably be open – but no, he’d promised Eret he’d talk to Wil when he got back, he should stop being such a coward about it. He wiped his hands on his jeans and took a deep breath before heading in.

“Oh, Fundy!” Kristin noticed him first, and Fundy found himself smiling – he hadn’t expected to see her!

“Hi, grandma!” They hugged, and when she pulled away, he saw that she was beaming.

“How’s my favourite grandchild doing?” she asked.

“I’m your only grandchild.”

“You don’t know! Wilbur could have another kid hiding out somewhere!”

“I assure you, I do not,” Wilbur said, his voice like a bucket of cold water thrown over Fundy.

He froze and looked up, meeting Wilbur’s gaze. “Uh, hi, Wil-”

“Fundy.” Wilbur nodded and went through to the kitchen. Was that it?

“Don’t mind him,” Kristin said, patting Fundy’s arm. “He’s been in a mood all weekend.”

“Right.” He frowned. “Uh, sorry about-”

She laughed, waving him off. “There’s nothing for you to apologise for! You are, by far, the least troublesome member of this family.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy asked from the sofa, Tubbo sitting beside him and watching their conversation with some interest. Neither Phil nor Techno were anywhere to be seen – Fundy guessed they’d stayed behind.

“It means that you’re an absolute menace,” Kristin said, then telling Fundy, “He tried to get Phil to divorce me again, can you believe it?”

“I can,” he said with a smile – this was one of the reasons Kristin was his favourite family member.

“But what about Wil?” Tommy asked. “There’s nothing bad about Wil!”

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” Wilbur called from the kitchen, “but I will have to disagree.”

“Yeah, he can be even worse than you,” Kristin said, taking a seat. “Wasn’t it only a few months ago that he helped you try to convince Phil I didn’t exist?”

“I’m still not entirely convinced you do,” Wilbur said, giving her an amused smile.

“I’m literally right here.”

“You could just be Phil dressing up to try and trick us into believing he really has a wife.”

She shook her head at Fundy. “Honestly, these two.”

His grin grew wider and he set himself down in the seat next to her. “Yeah, can’t blame you for avoiding them so much.”

“She’s not avoiding us!” Tommy insisted. “Why would she avoid us? We’re fucking great! An absolute delight – right?”

“No, he’s right, I’m absolutely avoiding you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. As Tommy shouted protests and Wilbur laughed – a sound that made Fundy’s heart twist – she leaned towards Fundy and asked, “So, what did you do with the house to yourself for two days?”

“I didn’t do much,” he said, shifting in his chair to get more comfortable. “I was mostly working – I did invite a friend ‘round yesterday, which was fun! And-” He hesitated, glancing towards the others. “And I… had a date, actually.”

“Oh, good for you! How’d that go?”

“It went well! Really, really well.” His smile softened as he thought back to it. “He even agreed to be my boyfriend, so- I have a boyfriend now!”

“That’s great!” She laughed and threw a look to Tommy, who was frowning intently at the two of them. “Maybe you could teach Tommy a thing or two – he was insisting I help him get a wife, even though he’s never been on a single date. Kinda missing a few steps there, buddy!”

“Why do you keep making fun of me?” Tommy whined.

“You make it so easy!”

“To be fair, you do,” Tubbo said, elbowing him.

Tommy shoved him away and turned to Wilbur, calling, “Wil! They’re all being mean to me!”

“Sounds like you deserve it,” Wilbur said, wearing a bright grin.

Tommy pouted. “Wilby, you’re meant to be nice to me, Wilby. You’re my big brother!”

“Aw!” Wilbur put a hand over his mouth, his eyes fond. He always melted when Tommy called him ‘Wilby’.

“You’re my big brother and I look up to you so much,” Tommy continued, “what is this going to do to my development? I am just going to become a crack addict without your guiding hand.”

That made Wilbur laugh, though there was still some warm affection in his smile when he tussled Tommy’s hair. “Well, we can’t be having that.”

Fundy looked away. “Did Phil stay back with Techno?” he asked Kristin in a low voice – he didn’t want to draw the others’ attention.

“Yeah,” she said, lowering her own voice. She pulled a face and added, “Honestly, I’m almost worried he’s avoiding me – he always seems to abandon you lot exactly when I come by for a visit.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t trust Wil to look after us all by himself,” he said, glancing at his father, who was sitting on the back of the sofa to better talk to Tommy.

“Bold of him to assume I’d be any help at all – this is meant to be my break.” She shrugged, pulling her legs up underneath himself. “Oh, actually, before I forget-” She stopped to rifle through her pockets, pulling out something small that was covered in wrapping paper, before saying, “Since Techno’s probably not going to be seeing you before your birthday, he sent this over. Don’t open it before then, okay?”

“Oh!” He took the gift, resisting the urge to open it immediately, his cheeks growing warm. “I, uh, didn’t expect to get anything from him!”

“Eighteen’s a big celebration!” she said with a grin. “Legally an adult! Able to drink – maybe? Have your own place? Drive- no, wait, pretty sure that’s sixteen.” She shook her head. “I don’t really know what the rules are.”

“Does that mean I’m going to be getting a gift from you?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course! Phil’s already got it – I’m afraid I’m not going to be here in person, but you’ll definitely be getting a gift from me.”

His smile faltered. “Oh. Uh, why can’t you make it?”

“Work,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Upon noticing his expression, she gave him a reassuring smile and added, “I’ll see what I can do – maybe I can drop in for a bit.”

“I’d like that,” he admitted, quiet.

“Mumza!” Tommy suddenly called, drawing their attention. “Tell Wil to stop being mean to me!”

She laughed and asked, “How did that happen?”

Fundy pillowed his cheek on his arm and watched the chaos unfold – with Kristin here, the family shenanigans seemed a whole lot more bearable.

~

It was much later when he finally got the chance to talk to Wilbur. Tommy and Tubbo had gone to get ready for bed and Kristin was digging through Phil’s belongings to try and find some of her own, and that left Wil to clean up the kitchen after dinner – a dinner that Fundy had sat out of, since he’d already eaten.

“Wil?” He stood on the border between kitchen and living room, carpet under his heel and tile under his toes.

“Mm?” Wil glanced up at him, lightly curious. “What’s up, Fundy?”

“I’m sorry about Friday.”

“Okay.” He rolled his sleeves up and turned the tap on. “Was there anything else?”

He should mention why he’d been so upset. He should have the conversation with Wil that he kept meaning to – the words hovered on the tip of his tongue.

“I… still think it was unfair-”

“You’re not the only person in this family, Fundy,” Wilbur said dismissively. “We have to consider everyone when making decisions. The rest of us wanted to go – asking us to delay was just selfish.”

“But-”

“And you shouldn’t have stayed behind on your own.” He looked at Fundy over his shoulder, brow furrowed. “I just want you to be safe.”

“But-”

“Go and get ready for bed. You’ve got school in the morning.”

He waited for a moment, but Wil just ignored him, his attention solely focused on the washing up. And then Kristin was coming downstairs, so Fundy finally turned away.

“Night, grandma,” he said, trying to give her a smile.

She didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “Night, Fundy! See you in the morning!”

He let his smile drop as soon as he was up the stairs and went to bed with a heavy heart. He hated that one simple conversation with his father was enough to ruin an otherwise perfect day.

Chapter Text

At school on Monday, Fundy was asked to see the student council, a situation that made his stomach roll. His last conversation with Hafu had been down in those creepy corridors and, while he didn’t think she’d bring magic up out here in the non-magic world, he was suspicious that it might weigh into whatever her reason for talking to him was. Still, he wasn’t sure that Wilbur had forgotten about the ultimatum yet, so he had no choice but to swallow his fear and go.

He arrived to find Hafu sitting behind her desk with a school file before her – looking more like the head of the school rather than merely the student council. Standing at her shoulder was another student, someone Fundy only vaguely recognised. They seemed to be almost as short as Hafu and had the same sharp gaze, though the bright pink mop of hair on their head brought a swift halt to further comparisons. With both Hafu’s and the stranger’s gazes prickling at his skin, Fundy took a seat.

“What’s this about?” he asked Hafu.

“Your school record.” She tapped a finger against the papers before her. “You skipped school last week.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not meant to have that,” Fundy said, frowning at them. They seemed unmoved, so he added, “Also, I did the detention already! What’s there to talk about?”

“You did, and that’s exactly what we’re here to talk about,” she said. “In the two years you’ve been at this school, you’ve broken nearly every single rule and ignored whatever punishment was thrown your way – this is the first time since your first year that you’ve actually sat through even a single detention. So,” she brought the papers together and gave him a cool look, “what changed?”

“None of your business.”

She considered him for a moment before her mouth twisted. “Fine. Let’s talk about what happens next.”

“Next?” His heart rate picked up and he shifted in his chair, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Uh, what do you mean next?”

“At the end of last year,” she said, eyes darting over the page, “you were nearly expelled – you were given one last chance with the understanding that you’d attend sessions with a school counsellor. You attended exactly one session before skipping those too. The counsellor was able to convince the school to lower your punishment to simply repeating a year – but,” she paused to meet his gaze again, “but you weren’t even able to last a week before breaking the rules again.”

“And I got given detention and I went to it!” he said. “It’s fine!”

“Simply going along with the punishments isn’t enough anymore,” she said, and Fundy felt his face drain of blood. “The headmistress needs to see actual proof you’ve reformed, or expulsion will be back on the table.”

If he got expelled, there would be nothing he could do to stop his father from home-schooling him again. He couldn’t go back to that kind of isolation. Not now, not when he was so close to freedom. He leaned forwards in his chair, trying to ignore the way his chest grew tight.

“What do I have to do?” he asked.

“That’s what we’re here to discuss.” She sat back, giving him a searching look, before asking, “Are you actually going to comply this time?”

“Depends what you ask.”

“Detention after school every day,” she said briskly, “and sessions with a tutor and a counsellor. If your grades improve and we don’t have any more reports of troublemaking within… say, a month, then we can reassess.”

“What? No, that’s way too much!” When would he have time for work – when would he have time for anything besides school?

“You’ve spurned chance after chance, Fundy,” she said. Instead of vindictive glee, like he’d half-expected this punishment to be accompanied by, her expression was one of frustration. “You’ve refused to comply with even the barest minimum of what we asked, so that minimum isn’t good enough anymore. Or,” she shrugged, “you could repeat the first year, if you think the workload is too much for you.”

His stomach dropped. “Please don’t put me back a year,” he all-but begged.

“Then will you agree to the rest of it?”

Were those really his only options? “I have work,” he said. “After school and at the weekends. I don’t have time for- for all this too! Can’t we figure something else out?”

“Do you have any suggestions?” she asked with a tone that suggested she’d probably shoot down whatever he brought up.

Still, he had to try. He looked down at his hands, tugging his sleeves down, and said through numb lips, “I… If I promise to keep my head down – if I don’t break another rule-”

“I’ve already said, that’s not enough anymore! Proving yourself, repeating a year, or expulsion; that’s all you’re getting.”

His leg started bouncing and he curled his hands around the edge of the chair, glaring up at her. “You shouldn’t even have the authority to do this!”

She closed the file, giving him a hard look. “Fundy, I’m trying to be nice here,” she said, her tone not very nice at all. “We’ve given you countless chances – I’m offering to argue your case with the headmistress. I’m going to be sticking my neck out on your behalf, and all I’m asking for it-”

“But all the options are terrible! I’m not doing this.” He tried to make his voice firm, strong, even as his heart hammered in his throat.

She let out a sharp breath and stood. “Then you’re getting expelled.”

The words left him breathless. He was on his feet, though he couldn’t remember standing, and he was staring at her, his head full of static. He tried desperately to reach for any argument, any thin piece of string to keep him from falling all the way back down to rock bottom. “You can’t- I haven’t done anything!”

“There’s footage of you breaking into the school. Last Tuesday night. Jack told me what you did.”

The door. “I didn’t break into the school,” he said weakly.

“You trespassed on school grounds and the camera by the gate would have caught you.”

“But… but if you had actual proof – if it actually recorded me, wouldn’t you – someone – have done something sooner?”

“The camera is recording constantly, holding exactly a week’s worth of footage at a time – it only gets reviewed if there’s reason to suspect something happened. If I go to the headmistress and tell her that I heard about something happening last Tuesday,” she made a motion – it took what felt like an eternity to flick his gaze down and see she’d spread her hands, “that’s that.”

Breaking into the school – that was something that could even justify getting the cops called on him. He sat down hard and put his hands over his mouth, trying to calm his breathing. This was it. This was the end of his freedom.

Maybe if he ran now, maybe he could get out of town before anyone caught him- but he wouldn’t be able to get far, not without a car. He couldn’t ask anyone for help either, as it would just bring trouble down on their heads. Fuck, he was screwed.

“Hafu, hold on.” An unfamiliar voice filtered through to Fundy. “Isn’t there anything else we could do?”

“We’ve tried everything already! It doesn’t work on him.” He heard her sigh and mutter, “I’m not even sure this would.”

“Then you don’t have anything to lose!” There was the sound of quick steps and something moved in Fundy’s periphery – with the way his vision had narrowed to a corner of the desk, it wasn’t anything more than a vague shape, a shadow that was probably a person. The voice was closer when it spoke again. “Could you just let me try something?”

“5up, this isn’t-”

“Please.”

There was a long pause, during which Fundy tried to gather the scraps of his sense, before she said, “Fine. What are you going to do?”

A hand waved in front of Fundy’s face. He blinked and dragged his gaze up to the hand’s owner and found the pink-haired kid grinning down at him. “Hi,” they said, holding out their hand. “I’m 5up. Hafu’s younger brother and brand-new member of the student council.”

Maybe it was the fact that his brain was already acting slowly, but something about that smile nearly ground it to a halt. His cheeks grew warm as he shook 5up’s hand. “Uh, Fundy. But… you already knew that.”

“I have heard a lot about you, yes,” 5up said with a laugh. He dropped Fundy’s hand and pulled a ring off his finger – it was wide, formed of twisting strands of gold, with a pink gemstone nestled among them. “I propose a challenge. We go and have a conversation – 30 minutes, let’s say? And you and I can figure out if there’s some sort of compromise here, hopefully less severe than what Hafu’s suggesting.” He looked up at Hafu, still grinning, and she gave him a sour look. He returned his gaze to Fundy and continued, “If we can’t find a compromise, then we’ll have to go with the whole detention and counsellor and tutor and all that, but I’ll at least talk Hafu down from expulsion.”

“5up,” she said with a warning tone.

“If Fundy’s willing to actually figure out a compromise with me, I don’t see why he should be expelled!” He twirled the ring between his fingers and added, “Though, there’s a little twist – if you have this ring by the end of the 30 minutes, I promise you’ll get off completely scot-free. How does that sound?”

“You’re encouraging him to steal,” Hafu said flatly. “How is that a good idea?”

“I think it’s better than sending him into a literal panic attack.”

She had the grace to look abashed, even as she argued, “But how are you so sure this will work?”

“I’m not.” He slipped the ring into his pocket. “But I think it’s worth trying!”

Hafu scrutinised the both of them, arms folded. “You’re going to have to explain this to the headmistress,” she eventually said, sitting down at her desk again. “I’ll see you in half an hour when your game blows up in your face.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” He crooked a finger at Fundy and strode away.

Despite having spent the last few seconds getting his brain back in working order, that gesture still managed to catch Fundy off-guard, and he felt unbalanced as he followed 5up out of the room. Hafu’s eyes burned holes in his back until he closed the door.

“So, what?” Fundy asked as they walked, trying to gain some measure of normalcy. “You’re going to grill me on my favourite and least favourite flavours of institutional punishment?”

“Maybe,” 5up said. “Might be a good icebreaker. I mean, I really do just want to talk, I don’t have any goal with the conversation.”

“Besides figuring out what to do about me?”

He shrugged, inclining his head. “Besides figuring you out,” he said. “Which can be achieved any number of ways. But, y’know, I’ve heard so many tales from Hafu and Jack and what I really want is to see what’s true and what’s exaggerated or misinterpreted.”

Fundy frowned at the floor, trying to think of what Jack would have said about him. He knew Hafu would just have endless complaints, but Jack? Jack talking about him while hanging out with- well, probably with his magic buddies, Fundy thought with an air of bitterness. This was Hafu’s younger brother, after all, and he remembered her mentioning that the guy also had magic.

He shook himself as 5up went into an empty classroom. This was a student council affair, not a magic affair – he had to stay focused.

“So!” 5up sat on a desk and folded his legs beneath him. “How are you feeling now?”

Fundy mirrored his pose and shrugged. “Fine? I- Can we just get this over with?”

“Get what over with? We’ve got half an hour here.”

“The whole,” he waved his hand, “discussion about punishing me.”

“If you insist,” 5up said. He pulled out the ring and started twirling it between his fingers again. Fundy frowned – he hadn’t really expected 5up to play fair with this, but keeping his eyes and hands on the ring the whole time would just make his so-called challenge completely impossible, and doing it so blatantly felt like rubbing salt in the wound. “So,” 5up continued, “if you didn’t get punished, would you really follow the rules like you suggested?”

He wanted to say yes – wanted to say anything to avoid being pushed further down into this pit – but he knew his restless nature wouldn’t abide sitting still and being quiet for too long. He knew himself too well to honestly agree and lying might have awful consequences. “I don’t know,” he said eventually, looking away.

To his surprise, 5up didn’t press the matter, instead asking, “Why did you refuse to go back a year?”

“I don’t want to share a class with Tommy and Tubbo,” he said, the lie coming easily to him. It wasn’t even that much of a lie. “I see more than enough of them at home – and could you imagine how they’d react to me being held back two years? They’d drive me up the wall with their mockery.”

“Are they that bad?”

He glanced up at 5up, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Are they really so not around you lot? I mean, I know they’d be on their best behaviour around magic people, but surely even Tommy’s best isn’t that good.”

5up sat up straight, his eyes darting towards the door. After a moment he laughed and shook his head. “I’m not used to talking about that outside of you know where,” he said, relaxing slightly. “Okay, yeah, I know them – and yes, Tommy really struggles with thinking before he speaks even on the rare occasions he’s not deliberately trying to cause problems, and Tubbo is an absolute menace who does a surprisingly good job of convincing you otherwise. I get why you wouldn’t want to give them too much fuel.”

“There we go, then,” he said, looking down and scratching at the plastic desk surface. Yet another reminder that he was an outsider to their world, and it sat heavy and bitter in the back of his throat.

“It is weird,” 5up said with a conversational tone, “that you could go through the door and yet- well, y’know.” He paused, and Fundy could feel 5up watching him. He didn’t look up. Eventually 5up added, “It’s weird you don’t seem to have magic. I think Hafu gave up too quickly when testing you. Have you noticed anything odd since then?”

He shook his head, swallowing down the hope 5up had sparked in him. “Nothing,” he said. “Tubbo’s even flung me to the ceiling since then to see if adrenaline would change things, but- nothing.”

“Hm.” He reached over to pat Fundy’s hand, which was still scratching away at the desk. “If you want to come by the sanctuary at some point as my guest, maybe we could try a few more things out?”

“Why?” he asked, levelling a suspicious glare at 5up.

“Why not?” He gave Fundy a warm smile. It wormed its way past Fundy’s defences and settled in his chest, bright and inviting. He had to look away again.

“We’re getting off track,” he said. “I don’t want to go back a year. That’s the important thing, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” He spun the ring around his finger and it caught the light, throwing it back into Fundy’s eyes. “I’ve already said, I just want to talk.”

If they didn’t try and find a compromise, Fundy would have to accept Hafu’s offer – was that what 5up was counting on? It occurred to Fundy then that the only members of the student council that had been in that room were the two who knew about magic. The two who had a vested interest in trying to keep Fundy quiet. If he got expelled, he could go blabbing to anyone about what lay beyond that door, especially if they asked about why he was breaking into the school to begin with. Hell, this whole conversation was probably just 5up trying to figure out how likely Fundy was to talk, and him bringing up magic of his own volition- well, he supposed that worked out in his favour, since that would give them more reason to keep him at the school.

5up was still smiling at him, his hand still resting atop Fundy’s own. He was sure 5up was doing it deliberately, trying to draw him out while holding his own cards close to his chest, but he just wanted-

His gaze landed on the ring.

“So you’re doing the good cop, bad cop thing?” he asked with a smile of his own, slipping off the desk before he did something he’d regret. “It’s good! You’re a good actor! But fuck you.”

5up blinked, his hand hanging in the air, before frowning and sitting back. “I’m not acting,” he said, sounding vaguely offended.

“Would you prefer if I called it lying?”

“No, I was being honest!”

“You weren’t,” he said. “You’ve been lying since the beginning! You and Hafu – her threatening me with expulsion and you offering freedom to try and get me to happily accept a lesser punishment,” he jabbed a finger at the ring in 5up’s hand, “while hoping I don’t notice that freedom is impossible.”

5up held the ring aloft and stared at it with a blank expression. After a moment, he put it back in his pocket and grinned at Fundy with not a trace of shame. “Okay,” he said, “that was essentially my thought process, but it was far less premeditated than you think! Hafu was being entirely genuine back there and I just wanted the chance to help a bit! And get to talk to you. And sure, I rigged the game, but you can’t really blame me, can you? It’s on my head if you just walk away from this – not just with the headmistress, but with Hafu, who is so much scarier.” He gave an exaggerated shudder, but he was still grinning like it was all some big joke and his tone remained light.

It was silly to feel like he’d been betrayed. Fundy glared at the wall, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach and the flush in his cheeks, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t help but feel like 5up had just made a fool of him for his own ends. He should just leave – screw the challenge, screw the student council, screw everything, and if this really was the end of the line then he could always take the slow path up to the roof and the fast one back down-

He stopped that thought in its tracks, took a deep breath, and went to lean against the teacher’s desk – far enough away that 5up couldn’t touch him. “Don’t lie to me again,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

“I wasn’t-” 5up cut himself off, then sighed and said, “Okay. Complete honesty in all things. The ring’s in my pocket, my hands are away, and I do want to get to know you. And my offer to visit the sanctuary still stands, by the way.”

“Why?” he asked, still suspicious about 5up’s intentions.

“I really don’t see a reason not to. You can go through the door, you want to learn about magic – Hafu just doesn’t trust you as a person, and Jack’s all fucked up since dying, which is fair, but I have no reason to distrust you and I – thank God – haven’t died, so why not?”

“Hafu doesn’t trust me, though.”

5up laughed a little and said, “I have never once trusted Hafu’s opinion alone when I have the option to form my own, and I don’t see any reason to start now.”

“But she’s the leader, isn’t she?” That was the vibe Fundy had gotten from what little he’d seen and heard.

“She is, and she’s good at it, but I follow her orders because I agree with her orders, and if I don’t I say as much.” He gestured towards Fundy. “Case in point.”

“I don’t fucking trust you,” he said bluntly, finally lifting his gaze to meet 5up’s.

“That’s fair,” he said, shrugging. “Is there anything I can do to help you trust me?”

He looked towards the door, not really knowing how to answer 5up’s question. “How do you feel about murder?” he asked as a joke.

“Who?” 5up asked, far more seriously than he was expecting.

He blinked and turned back to stare at 5up. “Huh?”

“Your father?” he asked, tilting his head. “I could probably kill your father. Like, physically, I’m sure I could, and morally I’m,” he shrugged and wobbled a hand, “but mostly I think Hafu would definitely have an issue with it, so maybe not. Would you accept maiming as a compromise?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He laughed, and the sound really shouldn’t have sent shivers down Fundy’s spine like it did. “I’m joking,” he said, grinning once again. “I mean, mostly. It depends how serious the question is – I can give you a more serious answer if you’d like?”

“You…” He shook his head, hoping 5up would blame the flush in his cheeks on embarrassment rather than anything else. “Have you ever considered playing poker?”

“Not really my poison.”

He needed to refocus. “So, uh… we should get back on track.”

“Right – did you want me to actually murder someone?”

“No, the- the other track!”

5up tilted his head. “The invitation to the sanctuary?”

“The compromise – we were meant to be finding one, right?” If he could just keep the conversation on this topic, maybe it would work out. Maybe he could walk away from this and never have to worry about scheming student council members ever again.

“Oh, right.” 5up nodded and stretched his legs out, propping his feet up on the other table. “So, I know you don’t want to repeat a year – for the very valid reason that your uncles are chaos gremlins – but why not expulsion? I mean, everything I’ve heard about you seems to suggest you hate the school, so why are you so keen to stay?”

He frowned, gaze turning towards the windows. “It’s not really about the school. I’d be happy enough at any school – which is, absolutely not happy at all, but less not happy than the alternative.”

“Okay, I… think I followed that. But it doesn’t really answer the question.”

“You asked why I was so keen to stay – I’m not.”

5up laughed. “Fair! I’ll pick my questions more carefully, then.” He was quiet for almost a full minute before asking, “If we kept the detentions and counselling and tutoring all within school hours so that it wouldn’t interfere with your work, would you accept that?”

He hated the sound of it all – but if that was what it would take to avoid expulsion, could he keep it up for a month? He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe if we just go for the counselling and the tutoring and you try and follow the rules and improve your grades, we could see about avoiding the detentions? For a while, at least.”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “Is there really no way for me to just… not get punished?”

“Not in any way Hafu and Mrs. Imporus will be happy with,” 5up said lightly. “Which will probably guarantee punishment very soon down the line one way or another – especially since, by your own admission, you don’t know whether you’d be able to obey the rules.”

“Fuck.” He probably should have lied.

“Okay, maybe… Hm. Maybe community service of some kind?” 5up asked, hopping off the desk. “You’ve done the buddy program before, right?”

“Yeah, and I buddied with Jack – I don’t think Hafu’s going to let me buddy with someone again. Not with how well that turned out.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll put that in the maybe pile,” he said, flicking his hands like he was actually moving something. “There’s probably a way we can spin it that’d work – would you be up for it if so?”

He’d liked being a buddy, but with the Jack situation still being such a mess… He shrugged. “I don’t know? Maybe.”

“Maybe is good!” He propped his hands on his hips and tilted his head, gaze fixed on something Fundy couldn’t see. “Counselling, tutoring, buddying… That seems like a good combination. If you’re so keen on staying at the school, that is.”

“We’ve already been over that.”

“True. I think that’s probably as good as we’re going to get, though. Unless there’s anything you can think of?”

He shook his head mutely. That probably was the best it was going to get, and it was still a fucking nightmare. He supposed it was just a nightmare he’d have to deal with for a month – unless he did steal that ring, at which point 5up would either have to let him walk out of this room a free man or he’d reveal his true colours. Fundy eyed the gap between them.

“Now then,” 5up said, his gaze darting to the clock, “we’ve still got… about twenty, twenty five minutes left? So!” He leaned against the table behind him and smiled benignly at Fundy. “Now comes the fun part.”

“The fun part?” he asked, his stomach flipping.

“Now, we just get to chat! To start – favourite and least favourite flavours of institutional punishment?”

He should have seen this coming. He shook his head and said, “Uh, strawberry, liquorice, and… dead bugs. Least favourite is definitely imprisonment, then torture, then a tie between that fake banana flavour and probably the death penalty.”

5up steepled his fingers and stared at Fundy. “I want to dissect your brain.”

“Hey, you asked for flavours!” he said, stifling a laugh.

“There’s still a lot wrong with what you just said,” 5up said solemnly. “Like, dead bugs?”

“I’m not explaining that one.”

“And you think imprisonment is worse than the death penalty.”

“In terms of taste! If you’ve been locked in a room for, like, months, things taste like shit! And you’re gonna taste like shit too! But if you’re dead, you can’t taste anything at all – and someone that’s just died probably wouldn’t taste that bad, all things considered.”

“You have put way too much thought into this,” 5up said, gaze cutting to the side. “But… I can’t really argue, to be fair. Except with liquorice – you’re just wrong.”

He did laugh now, hand clapped over his mouth and ears growing warm, and 5up’s mouth curled into a smile. Fundy had to admit – it had been a good icebreaker. The conversation flowed easier after that, to the point that Fundy could almost forget about 5up’s challenge.

Almost, but not completely, as when 5up brought up the topic of his father again. “I’m just saying,” 5up said, swinging his legs off the edge of the table, “the guy sounds like a dick.”

“He’s not!” he said quickly. “He’s just- he’s a bit overprotective, sure, but he’s not bad-”

“Really?” 5up gave him a flat look.

Fundy had to look away again, discomfort sitting like needles beneath his skin. “He’s great. Just… maybe not to me. But like I said, he’s not bad either – you should see him with Tommy.” He swallowed before forcing himself to admit, “They adore each other.”

“Still sounds utterly rotten,” he said decisively.

“It’s just family,” he said with an awkward shrug. “It’s always weird, isn’t it?”

“Weird, yes; this, no.”

And he could have told 5up that he’d be leaving in a month so it wasn’t really that big a deal, but he remembered the ring and the challenge and admitting he’d be running away from home and therefore the school seemed like a bad idea – there was probably paperwork they’d want to sort out if he were to drop out, and they’d get Wilbur involved for that, and Fundy didn’t want Wil to learn about his plans from the school, and there were times he didn’t even want to tell Wil he was planning to leave at all, but-

But that was a whole big thing, and what it boiled down to was that he shouldn’t tell 5up, so he just shrugged again and silently willed the conversation to roll on. Thankfully, 5up seemed to realise he wouldn’t say anything more about it, as he just sighed and changed the topic.

And then, after what felt like far too little time, 5up’s phone alarm went off.

Fundy stopped, smile frozen, and glanced up at the clock. The hands pointed unerringly towards the end of their conversation – the end of their challenge, where Fundy was supposed to have stolen a ring. Where Fundy had gotten distracted and kept his distance, completely shooting himself in the foot. He straightened and let his smile fall, tugging his sleeves down.

“So, uh, I guess that’s it,” he said, not meeting 5up’s gaze. “You win.”

“I like to think we both came out of this as winners,” 5up said, slipping off the desk. Somewhat more seriously, he added, “I liked talking to you, Fundy.”

He gave a jerky nod, barely hearing 5up’s words, and turned away – what was his schedule going to look like now? How much free time would he have? How long before it all became too much and he pushed back? How long before he was right back in that attic room with no way out?

“Wait-”

He glanced back and saw something bright zipping through the air towards him. He barely managed to catch it and had to fumble not to drop it- the ring. He stared down at the ring, sitting in the palm of his hand.

“Wha- huh?” He looked up at 5up, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“Your freedom,” he said. “Congratulations, Fundy. You win.”

“But I-”

“You’re not going to just hand it back, are you?”

He wrapped his fingers around the ring and squeezed – it felt real, cool metal and the hard edges of the gem pressed firm against his fingers, but he still couldn’t quite understand what was happening. “But why?” he asked.

“What do you mean? You stole it fair and square, obviously.” 5up flipped the end of his scarf over his shoulder and frowned at the corner of the room, gaze distant. “Hafu was right, of course – this was a silly challenge, and it blew up in my face. But that’s my burden to bear.”

“I still don’t-” He looked down at his hands, then back up at 5up. “I don’t get you.” It was kinder than what he wanted to say – that he still didn’t trust 5up.

“That’s fair.” He walked over to Fundy, who instinctively pulled his hands back towards his chest – as though 5up would snatch the ring back – and 5up stopped and smiled. “Does the why matter?” he asked, looking up at Fundy with piercing eyes. “You win.”

This had to be a trick – some excuse for 5up and Hafu to rain an even harsher punishment down on his head – but… but Hafu had already threatened expulsion, and apparently she had the proof to back it up. What more could they do?

“Let me know if you ever want to go down the paths,” 5up said, stepping past Fundy and opening the door. “And, if you did want to do the buddying, I can talk Hafu around for you.”

“You know, you can be real charming when you put your mind to it,” Fundy said, trying to sound casual. He slipped the ring into an inner pocket while 5up was distracted. “I think, if I’d been just a little weaker, I probably could have fallen in love with you. Kinda funny, honestly.”

“I’m glad you didn’t!” 5up said with a laugh that hit Fundy’s heart like a knife. “I enjoyed just getting to talk with you, it would have been so awkward if I’d charmed you while having ulterior motives.” He paused, one foot in the hall, and looked back at Fundy. “This was better.”

Ulterior motives – did he still have those? Had this all been some elaborate attempt to gain Fundy’s trust? He still couldn’t quite figure 5up out, though he couldn’t deny that he’d also enjoyed talking with him. He decided to say as much. “I liked this too.”

“I’m glad.” He tilted his head. “I’ll go tell Hafu what happened. You can go.”

“Are you sure I won’t get in trouble?”

“You have my word.” He smiled, and while all his past smiles had carried an air of calculation or mischief, this one seemed wholly genuine. It made him beautiful, and Fundy’s heart ached. “I’ll see you around, Fundy.”

“See you,” he said weakly, and he watched as 5up left.

It would be lunch soon, so Fundy went to find a bathroom cubicle to hide himself in and pulled out his phone – he nearly sent Jack a message, only remembering at the last second that things were still awkward between them. He hesitated before tapping on HBomb’s name instead.

Fundy: i need to scream at you about school stuff
HBomb: anything serious?

The response had come quickly and Fundy’s stomach flipped, panicking slightly as he figured out how to respond.

Fundy: no nothing serious!! don’t worry!!!
Fundy: i just don’t know how to deal with people
Fundy: or *anything*
Fundy: aaa
HBomb: oh, ok!
HBomb: what happened?
Fundy: do you remember 5up? he would have been in the year under me – my year now
HBomb: hafu’s brother, yeah
HBomb: weird guy, love him

He scowled at his phone. That really wasn’t helping with- well, with literally anything.

Fundy: ye, he just… idk?
Fundy: did something weird???
HBomb: makes sense – he’s a weird guy, like i said
Fundy: he’s on the student council
HBomb: oh, good for him!
Fundy: …
HBomb: but… bad for you, i’m guessing?
Fundy: *i* don’t know!!!

He sighed and pressed his phone against his forehead. How on earth could he explain the mess that had just unfolded to HBomb?

Fundy: i think he got Hafu to not punish me?
HBomb: oh, nice! what’s so weird?
Fundy: *he*
Fundy: i don’t get why he did that
HBomb: does it matter?
Fundy: yes???

The magic situation made everything messy, but that wasn’t something he could just spill to HBomb. Nor could he admit what he was pretty sure was the beginnings of a crush, because 5up was stupidly pretty and funny and- and he might have just helped Fundy stay free for a while longer, but HBomb was a menace at the best of times and would probably tell either Dream or 5up as soon as possible, or he’d at least be weird about it to Fundy himself-

He sighed and stared at his phone, trying to figure out what he could even say.

Fundy: i feel like he had his own reasons for helping me and that makes things Weird
Fundy: but he was also *nice* and i don’t know what to do?
HBomb: huh.
HBomb: well, i don’t think i can help, sorry!!
Fundy: that’s *it*?
HBomb: yep!
Fundy: you’re the worst.
HBomb: okay, if you *really* want advice – just maybe be friends with him?
HBomb: just a really wild out there idea for you
Fundy: but i don’t trust like that.
HBomb: what’s the worst that could happen? you’re going to be leaving in a month either way
HBomb: if he turns out to be a dick, just don’t stay in contact with him! simple!

HBomb made it sound so easy. The bell rang and Fundy groaned, scuffing his foot against the floor.

Fundy: fine, i’ll give it a go
Fundy: you’ve been very unhelpful tho
HBomb: love you too~

He muted his phone and shoved it into his pocket before heading out. He glimpsed Hafu and 5up caught up in the crowds – Hafu seemed to be admonishing 5up, wearing an expression equal parts tired and annoyed, while 5up was just grinning away. Fundy let the rush of people flood past him so as to avoid their notice. Despite what he’d said to HBomb, he still had no clue where to even start with this – and 5up’s offer of letting Fundy into the paths, as he’d called them, hung heavy in the back of his mind. He couldn’t shake the idea that 5up’s kindness was based specifically upon the whole magic thing, maybe to try and keep an eye on the one loose end or to figure out why Fundy had been able to go through the door in the first place.

Fundy wanted to ignore those thoughts, to simply chalk them up to his brain being paranoid as usual, but he couldn’t. There was no way to refute them other than to blindly trust 5up’s words. All he knew was that the thought would weigh on him until he finally got an answer, one way or the other.

Chapter Text

The next day, as Fundy was heading to lunch, he was surprised by 5up appearing out of nowhere to ask him, “Do you want to come down the paths with me?”

He grimaced, drawing back. He couldn’t deny still feeling some trepidation – why was 5up so interested in him? why now? – despite his promise to HBomb to at least try and befriend 5up. That promise was still enough to keep him from refusing outright, and instead he decided to offer a compromise.

“Uh, no – not right now,” he said, glancing towards the cafeteria. “But I did have a few questions about some of that stuff, so maybe we could talk?”

5up lit up. “Oh, absolutely. I’ll see if I can get an empty classroom – how long will it take you to eat?”

“Not long.”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” he said, leaving Fundy with a grin.

Fundy continued into the cafeteria, shoving aside his lingering worry that he’d done something wrong in favour of looking for Dream. He was sitting with a couple of third-years today that Fundy vaguely recognised – Antfrost, who’d been friends with HBomb, and his boyfriend, Red – but he didn’t know either of them especially well, so he felt a bit nervous as he went over. That nervousness partially melted away as Dream noticed him and instantly scooted to the side with a bright grin, silently inviting him to join, and it almost completely vanished as Ant greeted him with a cheerful, “Oh, hi Fundy! How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” he said, covering up his shock that Ant had remembered his name with what he hoped was a friendly smile. “It’s great to see you again, Ant.”

“But not me?” Red asked with a pout as Ant giggled. “I see how it is.”

“And what about me?” Dream asked, bumping their shoulders together. “You’re not going to say hi to your own boyfriend?”

“Hi,” he said, returning the gesture and hiding his smile with his hand. With the table’s mood being light and inviting, he was able to joke, “Can you believe how needy he is?”

The other two laughed as Dream gave an exaggerated sigh, dropping his head onto Fundy’s shoulder. “Well, I was going to ask you on another date,” he said morosely, “but if just saying hello is considered needy…”

“No, we can date!” Fundy said quickly. “I like dates!”

“Now who’s the needy one?” He elbowed Dream, who laughed and said, “Fine, fine, we can date. You free this weekend?”

“Apart from work, I should be.”

Dream sat up, propping his chin on his hand. There was a considering frown on his face. “Would you be able to take some time off work?” he asked. “My brothers are planning something this weekend and I don’t know when I’ll be free yet.”

Fundy pulled his lunch out of his bag as he thought the situation over. “I don’t think I could this weekend,” he said slowly, “it’s always busy at weekends, but I could maybe take some time off next week and we could do something after school one day? Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that works!” Dream grinned at him and sat up straight, pressing their shoulders together again. “And if I do have some free time this weekend,” he said, “I’ll let you know.”

“Great!” He checked his sandwiches – they were ham today, which he was thankful for – before remembering what had happened with 5up just a few moments before. “Oh, I should mention,” he said to Dream, giving him an apologetic grimace, “5up – from the student council? – he wanted to talk with me during lunch, so I’m going to have to head off soon. Uh, sorry.”

“Oh, okay.” Dream tilted his head slightly, gaze curious. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Knowing him, probably,” Red said cheerfully, grin brightening in the face of Dream’s glare.

“Not… really, no,” Fundy said. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he had to give some explanation, so he added, “He’s helping me with sorting out my student record. The headmistress isn’t happy after having to deal with me for over two years, so 5up’s trying to figure out how I can avoid getting expelled.”

“I hope that goes well, then,” Dream said with a gentle smile. “I’d like for you to not get expelled.”

“I’d like for that too,” he said, returning the smile.

He sat out of the rest of the conversation as he ate his sandwiches, but it was nice to just be around other people. Far too soon, he said his goodbyes, a part of him wishing he’d turned 5up’s offer down completely so that he could have stayed. Still, there was nothing that could be done about that now, so he went in search of 5up.

5up turned out to be leaning against the wall outside the cafeteria, tapping away on his phone. When he noticed Fundy he stood and slipped it into a pocket, saying, “I got a room we can use – are you free?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to shake off his unease. “Lead the way.”

“So,” 5up said as he started walking, “You mentioned having questions about that stuff – the stuff beyond the door, I assume?”

“All of it, really,” he said. It felt weird just talking about it out in the open, so he tried to keep his voice low as he said, “I- I know it’s kind of a taboo subject-”

“Not for those in the loop,” 5up said easily.

“Right. But I’m not…” He made a gesture he hoped indicated magic, and 5up glanced back just in time to catch this gesture, lips quirking up. Fundy looked away and added, “Uh, I’m not one of you, so…”

“You’re not the only not,” 5up mimicked his gesture, “who’s been involved! You’re just the first who’s been able to go through the door, which is delightfully strange.”

“Thanks?”

He stopped at the top of the stairs to fix Fundy with a grin. “You’re welcome!”

“Still.” Fundy glanced around – the top floor was nearly deserted, as it usually was this time of day, which helped his nerves somewhat. “You’re the only- or, one of the only people who will actually talk about it with me.”

“I think that’s more to do with the specific relationships than it being taboo,” 5up said, continuing down the corridor. “Not that you should just go around talking about it, mind you, but I think- well, I think Jack hopes you’ll be able to just be normal if he cuts you off from,” he waved a hand through the air, opening the door to the classroom, “it. For a given definition of normal, of course.”

Fundy made sure the door was firmly shut behind them before he said, “I can’t just ignore the existence of magic, though. I can’t ignore any of it.”

“I see.” 5up went to sit on a desk near the window and pulled another desk close to lay his lunch out on. Once that was done, he looked up at Fundy and said, “Well, I’m perfectly happy to answer whatever questions you have. Honestly, it’s quite nice to get to talk to someone new about it all, and someone who isn’t a hyperactive gremlin whose questions range from ‘what other body parts can you shoot fire from’ to ‘can you help me do insert war crime here’.” He peeled the lid off his yoghurt pot and added in a casual tone, “Your uncles are complete menaces.”

“You’re telling me,” Fundy said, looking out of the window.

“Anyway, as long as your questions aren’t that bad, I’m happy to answer them,” 5up said. “So, what questions do you have?”

“Well, how did you learn magic existed in the first place?” he asked.

“Me specifically, or us in general?”

“The second one.”

5up was silent for a moment, gaze flickering to a corner of the classroom, and Fundy wondered whether he was about to lie. “There was a monster,” he said, staring down at his yoghurt as he stirred it. “One of the ones from the paths – have you seen them?”

“No.” One of the only magic things he was privately grateful he’d been excluded from.

“Hafu saw one lurking around the school real creepy-like, and when she noticed it, it attacked her and her friends. She fought back, realised she could smash fire into its face, and chased it through the door and down the paths, though she lost it in the darkness.”

“Wait – the monsters can leave those creepy corridors?” Fundy asked. “The- the path things?”

“Yep!” 5up sounded way too cheerful for the topic at hand. “They manage to get out fairly frequently, actually, but they don’t do anything. Not unless you interact with them. They just… watch.”

“Because that makes me feel so much better,” Fundy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck to try and dispel the sensation of eyes following him.

He shot Fundy a grin that wasn’t reassuring in the slightest before continuing, his tone more thoughtful, “Hafu thinks that someone has to be controlling them. To be fair, there’s something very precise about how they act, how they’ll hunt people down in the paths but just watch them outside, only attacking when they’ve been spotted. I don’t know if I agree with Hafu per se, but I have to admit it’s creepy!”

“What do you think, then?” He peered through the window, searching the shadowy corners for anything amiss. His skin crawled.

“I don’t know. We don’t know enough about them to say almost anything for certain. We know they’re magic, obviously – well, I guess that’d be more obvious if you’ve seen them in person. They’re completely black, almost like they’re made out of shadows themselves, except for their eyes, which glow, and when you kill them, they turn into this weird corrosive liquid which dissipates fairly quickly.” He shrugged and added, “They’re definitely not natural, though. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“And that’s all you know?”

“Other than that, it’s just theories,” 5up said. “Maybe they’re intelligent creatures – they attack too quickly to say for certain.” He sighed and put his half-eaten yoghurt aside, then said, “They seem to have a purpose, though. I agree with Hafu on that.”

“A purpose,” Fundy repeated, voice flat.

“Yep.” He turned his own gaze towards the window, pulling his scarf up. “Searching for something would be my best guess, but that really is just a guess.”

He forced himself to walk away from the window, electing to sit on a table on the other side of the room and pulling out a chair to put his feet on. “So,” he said, “Hafu found a monster and hit it with fire – what happened then?”

“Nothing, really,” 5up said. “When she came home that day she told me about the whole thing, but nothing else really happened.”

“Wait, she didn’t tell anyone else? A teacher, or your- um, parents?” He wasn’t actually sure what Hafu and 5up’s home situation was like, but he decided against asking, figuring it really wasn’t any of his business.

“Nope,” 5up said, shrugging. “She didn’t trust them, see. I mean, our parents are great, but all it takes is a few careless words to the wrong person and,” he shrugged again, “well, who knows what might happen?”

He looked aside, considering that answer. It was strange to think of Hafu – perfect student and school council president – deciding not to go to any kind of authority figure when she found monsters under the school. He really didn’t understand why she’d kept it secret at all. Surely there was someone better to fight monsters than them… right? The more he thought about that question and the complete lack of any adults he’d seen down in the paths, the more uneasy he got.

“What’s she so scared of?” he asked, looking back at 5up. “To not get adults to help – what’s scarier than the monsters?”

“Another situation that has theories but no answers,” 5up said sombrely. “None of Hafu’s friends had magic of their own, they couldn’t go through the door – they definitely believed her, and they did whatever they could to help, but they could only do so much. Hafu thought it would be fine, that surely someone else would reveal themselves soon, that she wasn’t truly alone in fighting the monsters – and, I mean, she was kind of right since I had magic too, but I wasn’t at the school.” He sighed, looking down at his hands. “No one else showed up that year. No other students, and no adults ever seemed to be fighting the monsters either. Not even out here. The next year…” His fingers twitched and he balled them into fists. “Jack told you what happened to him, right?”

Fundy’s heart was a rock in his chest. “He said that he died.”

“Yep.” His gaze slipped to the side, eyes tight. “Hafu’s the oldest person we know of that has magic. The oldest. Maybe the rest are all dead in those paths, or maybe something else happened to them, but if there was anyone who had magic and survived, surely they’d still be fighting the good fight? Surely they wouldn’t be leaving a bunch of kids to stand against the forces of darkness?”

“And that’s reason enough for Hafu to keep it secret?”

“If we make even a single wrong move, it could mean our deaths,” 5up said. “Either from a known or an unknown threat. And we don’t know why Jack was able to come back, so we can’t really count on that! All we can do is keep fighting.”

“For how long?”

He put his chin in his hand and gave Fundy a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re still trying to figure that part out.”

His words painted a bleak picture. Fundy didn’t know what to say. He almost wished he could offer to help, but he didn’t have any magic of his own and… and this just made it more likely that 5up was trying to keep him quiet. ‘A few careless words to the wrong person’ – did they think Fundy wouldn’t be able to keep a secret? Or that he wouldn’t be willing to? 5up had shared the truth with him so easily. Was he hoping this tale would keep Fundy’s lips sealed?

But it wasn’t like Fundy could just admit he still didn’t trust 5up – after all, if he was right not to, showing his hand would just make it harder to figure the truth out, and if he was wrong not to, then that carried the risk of offending 5up, especially after he’d helped Fundy yesterday and was giving him these answers today – so he cast his mind about for something else to say.

“How did you figure out your magic was all weird, then?” he asked, wincing at the bluntness of his words.

“That’s relative,” 5up said, but his grin was more genuine now, which relieved Fundy. “Like I said, Hafu came home that day and told me about what had happened, and while she was explaining, I realised that the time she would have been fighting the monster was the same time I’d been feeling… well, weird. A little experimentation and we found out I had magic too, a little more and we figured out that we shared magic. And that was that!”

“And no one else shares magic?”

“Nope.” He blew a curl out of his face. “It’s a real mystery – that and literally everything else.” His expression became thoughtful as he said, “I mean, I suppose it’d be one thing if we were blood-related, but we’re both adopted. Isn’t that curious?”

“I suppose.” Would it make more sense if they were blood-related? They were still a year apart in age, which didn’t make sense to Fundy. If magic powers were present from birth – which, admittedly, was an assumption – then what would Hafu’s powers have been like before 5up was born? What if they’d never met? Would they still share magic then? He wondered, with some amusement, whether that could be what was happening to him. Maybe he was sharing magic with someone who was just hogging it all the time. He dismissed that thought quickly, though – Tubbo had mentioned the two swapped magic, so surely Fundy would be left with something if that were the case.

“Speaking of mysteries,” 5up said, hopping off the desk and clapping his hands together. He pointed them towards Fundy and asked, “Can I ask why you don’t want to find out what’s happening with you?”

“What makes you think I don’t?” he asked, silently cursing his luck.

“Okay, I’ll rephrase – why don’t you want to come down the paths with me?” He let his hands drop and tilted his head to one side, considering Fundy. “I could understand being scared of the monsters, but I promise I’d keep you safe. And none of the rest would let you get hurt either, even if things are awkward with, like… all of them.” He paused before adding, “Except Ranboo, I’d assume. But either way, what’s stopping you?”

“Things are awkward with, like, all of them,” Fundy said, which drew a smile from 5up. “I mean, last time I was down there, Jack nearly electrocuted me. We’ve still not really talked since then.”

“I would help with Jack, too. Trust me, I can take him in a fight.” 5up lifted his chin, confidence in every line of his body, and Fundy felt uncomfortable – had they fought before? “And I can deal with Hafu if she takes issue,” 5up continued, “so, again, what’s stopping you?”

The trust issue, mostly – but he still couldn’t say that, so he bit his tongue and searched for better words to use. “I just… don’t feel like it right now.”

“That’s fair,” 5up said with an easy shrug, and Fundy breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, did you have any other questions?”

“Who are Hafu’s friends?” he asked, glancing aside. “The ones who know about magic? I figure, since we’re all in the same boat and all…”

“Oh.” 5up frowned and turned away, pulling his scarf up again. Fundy felt cold. “They left. Either when they finished school – a few of them were in the year above her, her buddy and his friends – or during the school year.”

“None of them stayed in the town?”

“Nope. Not a one.” 5up glanced back at him with a crooked smile and said, “Not that that’s unusual, mind you – your buddy HBomb left town too, didn’t he? And he isn’t involved in all this magic stuff.”

“Right.” He braced his elbows against his knees and considered 5up. There was definitely something he wasn’t saying, but it wasn’t like Fundy could just ask, not without being a massive hypocrite. And it was probably something upsetting, considering the context, so would it be better to just turn a blind eye?

But if these other magicless people had gotten hurt – had gotten killed – would ignoring the situation just endanger Fundy further?

Could he trust 5up to tell the truth even if he asked?

He looked away again and said, “Well, maybe I could get their numbers or something? It’d probably still be worth getting their view on things.”

“I’ll ask Hafu about it,” 5up said.

So Fundy likely wouldn’t be getting those numbers. He checked the clock – it was coming up on the time the first-years would be letting out – and asked, “Shouldn’t you be going down into the paths soon? I thought you guys were all meant to be training Tommy and them.”

5up glanced towards the clock too, saying, “It’s really not so structured, and Hafu mostly handles the training – but I probably should at least go patrol soon. Did you have any other questions?”

“Not urgent ones,” he said, standing up.

“Then I should really focus on having my lunch before the bell rings.” 5up returned to his desk and picked up the yoghurt again. “But we can keep talking, maybe? Not about anything too distracting, of course, but I’m happy to continue chatting!”

He hesitated, hand resting on the desk. It probably would be a good idea to stay, if only because pumping 5up for information really wasn’t a good attempt at making friends, and he had promised HBomb he’d try. He decided to go and sit closer. “Okay,” he said, “what do you want to talk about?”

~

Fundy was still thinking about that conversation hours later, considering 5up’s words in the silence between customers at the shop. Jack had walked with him as always, and had grabbed himself a snack as he often did, but today he stayed to talk to Niki, leaning against the stretch of counter beside the register that was tacitly reserved for friends, a place where they could linger and chat without getting in the way of the queue. He didn’t talk to Fundy, so maybe he was just reading into things, but it definitely seemed like a further easing of the tension between them.

A while later, he was surprised to see Kristin enter the shop. She greeted all four of them warmly – strangest to Fundy was her noticing Jack and saying, “It’s good to see you, Jack! You look well.”

“Uh, thanks,” Jack said, bobbing his head. As Kristin went to look over the cakes and catch up with Niki, he asked Fundy, “Who’s that?”

“My grandma,” Fundy said.

“You told her about me?”

“Yeah, ‘course. She’s great!” Except that Fundy was sure he’d never mentioned Jack by name, having long since trained himself out of mentioning people’s names at home. Niki must have told her, then – he watched as Niki laughed at something Kristin had said with a joy born of familiarity. Niki mentioning Jack made sense.

“Is it just the cake?” he asked Kristin as she approached the counter, Niki packing up a chocolate cake.

“Yep,” Kristin said, scanning the display despite her words. “I figured we should get something nice since it’s my last night with you guys, and it’s been just too long since I’ve had something of Niki’s.” She patted the cake as Niki placed it on the counter, giving her a bright smile.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it!” Niki said, returning the smile.

“I’m sure I will.” She counted out her notes and handed them over to Fundy. “How late are you going to be working, Fun? I wouldn’t want to miss you.”

“Not much later,” he said, getting her change and ignoring Jack’s amusement over the nickname. “I’ll head straight back – should be home in time for dinner.”

“Great!” She paused a moment longer, hand resting on the cake. “Tommy and Tubbo are in a mood,” she said, tone serious. “Apparently something happened at school and they’re not talking about it – not to me, not to Wil. Do you know anything?”

He glanced at Jack, who’d gone pale. “No,” he said, meeting Kristin’s gaze again. “Don’t know a thing.”

“Well, maybe they’ll talk to you,” she said. There was a shadow in her eyes as she took the cake and left and Niki too seemed troubled – but Fundy just had eyes for Jack, shaking and drawn, who’d seemed so normal until Kristin had mentioned Tommy and Tubbo.

He waited until Niki had gone into the back and the shop was devoid of customers before asking Jack, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Jack said, avoiding his gaze.

“No, don’t give me that. What is it?”

“None of your business!”

He considered Jack, who stared down at his hands, picking at the skin around his nails. Whatever had happened, it seemed clear he wasn’t going to talk to Fundy about it – it seemed clear it was a magic thing. He swallowed back the wave of bitterness that thought brought with it and turned back to the register, letting them fall back into silence with a brand new tension staining the air between them.

~

When he got home, he’d almost forgotten about Kristin’s concerns, and the atmosphere was as bright as ever so it still took a few moments to pick up on what was wrong. Tommy was leaning over the arm of the couch, balancing on his elbows and seeming about two seconds away from falling over completely as he talked Kristin’s ear off about something or other, making the most of her final few hours with them – there was an almost imperceptible edge to his words, too-loud and too-quick, brimming with forced cheer. Tubbo sat at the other end of the couch and he was almost completely still and silent, his upset far clearer than Tommy’s, though when Tommy glanced back towards him, he was quick to join in the conversation. Still, Tommy was doing a very good job of keeping the attention focused on him instead of Tubbo. Fundy wondered how deliberate that was.

“You’re back late,” Wilbur said as he closed the door.

“I’m really not,” he said, putting his stuff away. “I came straight here from work.”

Wilbur frowned and turned his attention back to the food he was cooking, and Kristin rolled her eyes and shot Fundy a smile, which he returned despite his discomfort. He sat in the empty chair, bringing his legs up to rest against one of the arms, and considered Tommy – who had ignored his arrival – and Tubbo – who had glanced towards him but otherwise remained the same.

For the moment, he decided to ignore the elephant in the room. Waiting for a lull in the conversation as Tommy took a breath, he asked Kristin, “Is grandpa going to be back tomorrow?”

“Yep. He said he should be back in the evening-”

“How come you can’t stay longer, though?” Tommy moaned as he dropped forwards. His arms hung limp over the couch’s arm as he rested his cheek against it, an exaggerated pout on his face that did little to hide the tension around his eyes – if you were looking for it, at least.

“I have work,” she said simply, chucking Tommy under the chin.

“Stop working, then,” he said. “Or get a new job here.”

She laughed and shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“How come?”

“You know, I was working this job long before I met Phil,” she said. “Before you even existed. It’s not just something I can turn my back on so easily.”

He frowned up at her, tapping his thumbs against the side of the couch. “Are you saying it matters more to you than us?”

“Hm…” She thought for a moment before saying a decisive, “Yes, absolutely.” When Tommy shot up, spluttering, she laughed again and said, “No! Of course it doesn’t, Tommy!”

He sagged, giving her a tired glare. “Then I don’t get why you’re leaving.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Wilbur called from the kitchen. He glanced at Tommy and added, “Stop harassing Mumza and get your food.”

“I’m not harassing her,” he said as he tumbled over the back of the couch. “I’m not!”

Fundy waited for Kristin to follow him and for Tubbo to stand before heading over to the latter and asking in an undertone, “You alright?”

Tubbo gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. I’m great, boss man.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, but he didn’t press the matter, instead going to join the others at the table.

Dinner passed too quickly and Kristin had to head off almost immediately after if she wanted to reach Techno’s at a reasonable hour, a fact that Tommy seemed to take as a personal insult. He trailed after Kristin as she gathered her things, packing an extra few slices of the cake to share with Phil and Techno, and he kept asking her to stay for just one more day, Phil would be fine without his car, if he really needed to come back he could just walk back – on and on and on. Wilbur was tidying the kitchen, piling the dinner plates near the sink to wash after Kristin left, so Fundy and Tubbo were left to sit on the couch in awkward silence.

Fundy hadn’t said anything, but from the way Tubbo kept glancing at him he knew they were both thinking about whatever had happened. This might have not been the best situation to start talking about it, though the choice was taken out of Fundy’s hands as Tubbo started speaking.

“We fought the monsters again.” His words were quiet and casual, almost hidden beneath Tommy’s rambles and the clattering from the kitchen, but Fundy could still hear them clear as day. “Got jumped on the way to the sanctuary. Don’t know why – we were being real careful. Just bad luck, I guess.”

“Oh.” He kept his gaze fixed on Tommy as he hid Kristin’s coat behind his back. “Did you get hurt?”

“Nothing Hafu couldn’t heal.”

“So you did.”

Tubbo made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “Tommy jumped in the way, like an idiot, and his arm got all torn up. I hit the ground weird and dislocated my shoulder. Another one got his leg, too – those were the worst ones.”

The worst ones – not all of the injuries. Fundy swallowed and watched Tubbo out of the corner of his eye as he carefully said, “That sounds bad.”

“We managed to kill them this time,” he said with another dull-eyed smile. “Didn’t even need anyone to come rescue us!”

“Still.”

Tubbo’s smile fell and he lapsed into silence. Before either of them could speak again, Kristin called that she was ready to leave now – despite Tommy’s best efforts – and it was time for goodbyes.

“I’ll let you know if I manage to get more time off,” she told Fundy as she hugged him. “If not, I hope you have a great birthday, and you’d better let me know what you think of your gift, okay?”

“Will do.”

She pulled back and gave him a tight smile. It seemed like there was something else she wanted to say – or that might have just been Fundy’s imagination, because she turned to offer Tubbo a hug without another word. Tubbo refused, standing separate from the rest of the group, and Tommy asked if he could have another hug since Tubbo didn’t want one, drawing a laugh from Kristin as she relented.

Fundy jumped as Wilbur placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning around him to smile at Kristin, and he quickly slipped to the side to stand with Tubbo. Wilbur didn’t seem to notice his disappearance as he said his own goodbye. Tommy – who’d been pinching Kristin’s sleeve since they’d separated – reached out to grab Wilbur’s sleeve too, a deep frown on his face.

“One of these days,” Fundy muttered to Tubbo, “I think Tommy’s going to slash the tires of Phil’s car to try and keep Kristin here.”

Tubbo grinned at him, and this grin was much brighter than his past ones. “As if Wilbur’s Tommy-sense wouldn’t go off the instant Tommy grabbed a knife.”

He relaxed slightly as he grinned back, and he was even able to maintain his smile as Kristin left. After the door closed, they all stood in silence and listened to the sounds of the car starting and driving away – and, as always, a part of Fundy wished he was in that car with her, leaving this house behind. It was easier than usual to ignore that part of him, considering what else he’d be leaving behind, but there was still an ache in his chest that he knew would linger for a few days.

“Don’t look so dour,” Wilbur said, tousling Tommy’s hair. “She’ll be back before you know it – and Phil will be back tomorrow! You love Phil!”

“I do not,” Tommy said, batting his hand aside. “Phil’s old.”

“So’s Kristin.”

“Yeah, but…” Tommy struggled for a few seconds before grimacing and turning away. “I’m- I’ll see you tomorrow, Wil.”

Wilbur watched with a concerned frown as Tommy ascended the stairs, Tubbo following a moment later. Once they were both gone, he turned to Fundy and asked, “Do you know what that was about?”

“No,” Fundy said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He had planned to head over to Schlatt’s for a bit once Kristin left, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea anymore.

“Could you talk to Tommy, maybe?” Wil asked, and Fundy turned his face away to hide the flash of anger he was sure had crossed it. “See what’s bothering him?”

“Why’s that my problem?” he asked, glaring at the wall. He couldn’t believe Wilbur asking him to check up on Tommy – like Tubbo wasn’t also upset, like Wilbur hadn’t even tried to see what was wrong himself, like Wilbur hadn’t once reached out to Fundy-

“You can be really selfish sometimes, Fundy,” he said chidingly. “Tommy’s upset! The least you could do is talk to him!”

“I’m not-”

“Let me guess, you’re going to leave again,” he said, sighing. “Really, running away at a time like this-”

He bit his tongue and rushed up to his room, ignoring whatever else Wilbur was saying. He was surprised to see Tommy and Tubbo were both up there too, though that surprise was nothing next to his anger and upset. But Tommy was silent for once, staring down at the floor with the same distant frown he’d worn as Kristin had left, and he remembered what Tubbo had said and forced himself to swallow back the sharp words he’d wanted to fling.

“What’s wrong?” he asked shortly, tossing his bag onto his bed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tommy said, regaining some liveliness as he glared at Fundy. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

He gestured to the room, raising an eyebrow at Tommy. “You’re here.”

“Oh.” He looked around, mouth twisting. “Right.”

Fundy went to sit on the windowsill, giving Tommy some time to figure himself out. Tubbo was sitting on the wall nearby, tossing a small ball in the air – its arc ran parallel to the floor and Fundy watched for a few seconds, wondering when this had started to seem normal.

Tommy drifted over to stand near them after a while, though he still didn’t say anything. Fundy took in the way he stood, shoulders slightly hunched and hands cupping his elbows, and the exhaustion in his eyes. It helped him to tamp down most of his anger and say, “I heard you got attacked again.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said.

“It sounded bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He frowned and looked away, gaze trailing over the toys on the ceiling. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just monsters. We’ve fought them before.”

“So what?”

Tommy frowned, fighting with himself on something, before saying all in a rush, “Last time, it- it was fucking scary and horrid and awful, but then there was all the cool magic shit and it was easy to ignore, right? And we got told how to avoid the monsters, and it was fine. But this time, we-” He fell silent again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he glared into a corner of the room. Fundy wondered if he should say something, but Tommy turned away before he could, hunching further in on himself. “But the worst of it, right? The worst of it is- is that this is forever. Monsters ‘til we die. Which probably won’t be too long, considering fucking everything.”

“That sounds awful,” Fundy said. It didn’t feel like the right thing to say, the words too small for what Tommy must have been facing.

“It is.” Tommy glared at Fundy over his shoulder. “You’re fucking lucky, honestly.”

The words were a smack in the face, reigniting the anger he’d tried to smother for Tommy’s sake. “If you’re going to be like that, you can leave,” he said shortly, clinging to the last of his patience, which fizzled like a fuse in his chest.

“I’m not-”

“I’m serious. Jack’s already said everything you want to say, so just-” He made a sharp dismissive gesture.

“What, like you want to get mauled to death by monsters?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “Especially when talking to you, yes.”

“There’s no need to be a dick,” Tubbo said.

“Yeah, you don’t- you don’t really mean that, do you?” Tommy asked. His tone was hesitant, and Fundy almost wanted to apologise.

But enough was enough – he didn’t have it in him to deal with Wilbur’s mood and Tommy’s, not when he was already missing Kristin, so he slipped off the windowsill and went to grab his spare shoes and bag. “If you won’t leave,” he said, returning to open the window, “then I will.”

“You’re going to kill yourself jumping out from this high up,” Tommy said, though he didn’t make a move to stop Fundy. Neither did Tubbo – but then, Tubbo had seen him use this window before.

He pulled the rope ladder out from under his bed and double-checked it was properly secured before tossing it out. To Tubbo, he said, “I’ll be back before bed, could you sort out my ladder?”

“Sure.” He held his hand out expectantly and Fundy sighed as he pulled his wallet out, handing a few notes to Tubbo. “Pleasure doing business.”

“You’re draining me dry,” he said with some bitterness – he only had so much money saved up, and even if giving a bit to Tubbo wouldn’t make a massive difference, it still set a weight across his shoulders.

“If you want to deal with Wilbur, you can take it back,” Tubbo said, counting through the notes and handing half to Tommy. He already knew Fundy wouldn’t be going back on it.

There was nothing more to say then, though he could still feel Tommy glaring at him. His own anger hadn’t abated, so he ignored him and climbed out. Once he reached the bottom Tubbo started pulling the ladder back up, and only then, when he was out of the house and in some way free, did his anger finally subside. He took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air and made his way to Schlatt’s.

Chapter Text

“Happy one week anniversary of me almost electrocuting you.”

It was Wednesday now – Fundy was surprised to realise it had indeed been over a week since he went through the door, the days ticking by without his notice. He hadn’t been expecting anything to change, resigned to the idea that this might have just been the new normal, that he and Jack might never properly talk, and as much as he’d hated that thought, it had been better than losing Jack entirely. But here Jack was, offering an olive branch in the form of a cupcake, not quite meeting Fundy’s gaze as he spoke.

“Is that something to celebrate?” Fundy asked.

“Well, you didn’t get electrocuted, did you?”

“No.”

“There we go, then.”

A part of Fundy still wanted a proper resolution to last week’s argument, but that was probably a bit much for only just starting to talk again, so he accepted the cupcake. As they walked to school, their mutual silence remained, though it seemed lighter.

But that came to an end as they entered the school and 5up intercepted them to ask, “Do you want to come down the paths with me today?”

“What?” Jack hissed before Fundy could say anything. His eyes darted to the nearby students before narrowing at 5up. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m absolutely serious,” 5up said, waving Jack off without even looking at him.

“Hafu’s going to be pissed if you bring him down-”

“I thought you two were friends?” 5up asked, his tone lightly curious. It only seemed to anger Jack further, and Fundy really wished he was literally anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“You still can’t-”

“It’s not your choice to make.” 5up folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at Fundy. “So?”

“Not today,” he said.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you’re scared of Jack?”

Jack tensed beside him and Fundy frowned. “No – don’t be a dick.”

Both of 5up’s eyebrows lifted as his eyes darted between the two of them. “The guy literally almost kills you, and I’m the dick?”

Maybe that hadn’t been fair to 5up, but Jack was wound so tight he was trembling, and things had been going so well between them that morning. Fundy hoped it wasn’t too late to regain their fragile peace. “I don’t want to go down the paths,” he said firmly. “There’s your answer.”

5up sighed and turned on his heel, disappearing back into the crowds. Once he was gone, Fundy glanced over at Jack, who was still glaring into the space 5up had been.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Jack said shortly. Then, “We should get to class.” But he didn’t start walking, so Fundy stayed too. Eventually, Jack asked, “Since when have you and 5up been all buddy-buddy?”

“We’re not.” He looked down the hall, debating how best to explain. “He… he got me out of trouble with Hafu and we’ve talked a couple times, but that’s it.”

“But you said to him ‘not today’.” He bit the words off, sharpening them. “What the fuck did you mean, ‘not today’? Are you going to go down tomorrow?”

“I don’t know! I-” How could he explain that he couldn’t just walk away from this? What could he say that wouldn’t set Jack off? “He’s been asking me about that a lot, and I just- I’m trying to figure out what to make of him, y’know?” He hesitated before looking at Jack sidelong. “You know him better than I do, don’t you? What do you think of him?”

“He’s student council,” Jack said instantly, mouth pinched in agitation. “Hafu’s brother. He’s just as bad as she is – worse, even, because he just swans about with a smile like this is all some game and- and at least Hafu takes it seriously, even if she’s being a right drill sergeant about it.”

“But he got me out of trouble,” Fundy pointed out, even as his skin crawled – that was a pretty straightforward answer. Still, he asked, “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know!” Jack said. “He’s straight-up impossible to read! Not even Hafu can figure him out sometimes, and- seriously, just- just avoid him.” He finally met Fundy’s gaze, his eyes brimming with anger and pain. “Okay?”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, feeling the familiar guilt at not being able to give Jack a better answer.

“Think about-” Jack cut himself off, mouth twisting. “Are you scared of me?”

He looked away. “Not you.”

Jack fell silent, and the halls were clear enough that Fundy could hear a slight hum in the air. His heart raced with the urge to run away, but he forced himself to stay still and wait for Jack.

It felt like an eternity before Jack said, “Right.” Without another word, he strode down the hall, and Fundy took a moment to just breathe before he followed.

~

Fundy thought that would be the end of it, that the rest of the day would pass by without anything else of note happening, but he was proven wrong as 5up slipped into the seat opposite him and Dream halfway through lunch and, without any preamble, asked, “Can we talk about earlier?”

“Uh, I don’t- I’m busy?”

5up’s gaze darted to his lunch – which he’d already finished – and to Dream – who looked confused. To the latter he gave a sunny smile and said, “Hi, I’m 5up. Student council.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around,” Dream said, returning the smile with some hesitance. “I’m Dream. Uh, Fundy’s boyfriend.”

Fundy’s stomach flipped at the last two words, though he couldn’t muster his usual giddy joy. 5up nodded and gave a cheerful, “Nice to meet you!” before turning his smile on Fundy again – Jack’s words rang in the back of his head. “I really do think we should talk, though,” 5up said.

“Maybe later-”

“When?”

He grimaced and looked over the cafeteria to try and avoid 5up’s keen gaze. “Don’t you have something you should be doing?” he asked. “I thought you were always busy around now?”

“I messed around my timetable a bit,” 5up said. “I wanted the chance to talk to Jack, actually – he tends to just disappear after the start of lunch, so I had to catch him quick.”

5up had talked to Jack? He wished he could ask Jack what they’d talked about, but he probably wouldn’t get the chance until after school, and though he might be able to get an answer from 5up, that was just a whole mess-

He was distracted from his thoughts as Dream asked, “Wait, what happened with Jack?”

“I made a thoughtless comment earlier,” 5up said lightly, “and managed to piss both him and Fundy off, so I was hoping to apologise.”

“Oh.” Dream took his hand beneath the table, thumb running over his knuckles. “Well, you can apologise now, can’t you?”

“Absolutely – but I was also hoping to continue the conversation we’d been having before the comment, and that is a matter of some delicacy, I’m sure you understand.” 5up’s words came fast, with an even, lilting rhythm. He sounded totally at ease, until his tone dropped into something more serious, maybe even hesitant, as he asked Fundy, “So… can we talk?”

Fundy frowned and made himself meet 5up’s gaze. “Did Jack accept your apology?”

“Unfortunately not,” 5up said.

He felt uncomfortable with the thought of talking with 5up after Jack explicitly told him to stay away from the guy, especially when Jack was already in a bad mood – especially especially when Fundy himself already had reservations about 5up – but 5up was offering resolution to their argument, the one thing Fundy sorely wanted from Jack. Before he could talk himself out of it, he nodded and said, “Okay, we can talk.”

5up straightened in his seat, head tilted to one side. “When?”

“Now?”

“Okay!” He stood and gave Dream another smile. “Hope you don’t mind me stealing your boyfriend for just a little bit!”

“Yeah, no, of course not,” Dream said, squeezing Fundy’s hand. “See you later.”

“See you,” Fundy said, giving Dream a kiss on the cheek before following 5up from the room.

They ended up in yet another empty classroom, though this one was far nearer to the cafeteria – Fundy wondered if 5up had actually arranged for them to use this room or if he’d just chosen the first room that didn’t have anyone in. He wasn’t going to say a word either way.

5up walked only a short way in before turning and giving Fundy an assessing onceover. “Okay,” he said, “first of all, sorry about the whole thing earlier with Jack. As I said, I apologised to him too, and he-” He paused, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Well, we’re pretty much in the same situation as we ever are. I mean, you know how he can be – the guy has issues.”

Fundy fought back a grimace – the casual and borderline dismissive way that 5up talked about Jack’s situation really wasn’t helping his discomfort. “Go on?”

In a tone just shy of accusatory, 5up said, “But we got to talking – with maybe a bit of shouting, I admit – but he said that you were suspicious of me.”

“I never said that to him,” Fundy quickly said, his stomach dropping.

5up folded his arms and asked, “But you are, aren’t you?”

How could he answer that? “You literally admitted to trying to manipulate me when we first spoke,” he said, looking away. “And- and I don’t trust easy at the best of times.”

“So that’s a yes.” 5up sighed. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“Because I didn’t trust you.” He swallowed back the urge to add obviously onto the end.

“Okay, not gonna lie, I’m kinda hurt by this,” 5up said. “All things considered, kinda hurt. But I suppose I can understand.” 5up was quiet for a moment before asking, thoughtful, “If I were to promise you that I’ve been trying to be nothing but honest since the whole ring debacle, would you believe me?”

“I…” He thought about it – about everything they’d talked about, about where they stood now. “I don’t know.” He sagged against the door and fiddled with the ring in question, which was still in his jacket pocket, before amending, “Probably not.”

“Can you think of anything I could do that would help?”

One of his hands drifted to rest against his scar. It was a big question with no clear answer, but if he just gave 5up nothing again, what would happen? Clinging to his distrust seemed like admitting failure, in a way. Keeping himself locked in yet another stalemate.

“I just- I don’t get what’s changed,” he said, unpicking his own thoughts as he spoke. “You twisted the rules of your own game to benefit yourself – to get me to go along with what you wanted – and then, for no reason, you just changed your mind! And suddenly I’m supposed to trust you when I don’t even understand you!”

“I see, I see.” 5up approached him, his hands folded behind his back. “I think I have an idea – could I propose a game?”

“You really like doing that, don’t you?” he asked with a half-smile, though he didn’t feel any amusement.

“I do indeed! This game is a pretty simple one, though, and the fate of your school life does not rest on it – promise.”

His gaze flickered up to 5up’s eyes, which were firm and earnest. “What’s the game?” he asked, looking away again.

“What I propose is an exchange,” 5up said. “A question for a question type thing. I ask you something and you can either refuse to answer and I’ll back off, or you can give a complete and completely honest answer, which has the incentive of banking you a chance to ask me a question in turn, with the same conditions in place. It should mean that if I do give an answer, it’s one you know you can trust – or, that’s what I hope, anyway.”

Fundy considered 5up’s suggestion, frowning to himself. “Okay, but what reason do you have to answer honestly? Or at all, for that matter?”

“Well, the problem is that we’re in a little bit of a bind here,” 5up said, spreading his hands. “You don’t trust me, neither of us can think of a way to prove my trust, and that really does just threaten to scupper this whole befriending plan I’ve got going on. I don’t really see an easy way around it, so I’m hoping to just plough straight on through with a little bit of psychology thrown into the mix to ease the ride – if you feel like you’re earning my answers, hopefully you feel you can trust them more.” There was a moment of silence before 5up said thoughtfully, “Though we could swap it, if you like? You ask me questions, and then I get to bank questions to ask you?”

“But wouldn’t that fuck up the psychology?” he asked, glancing up at 5up again.

5up shrugged, letting his hands drop. “The point of this game is to help you feel more comfortable with our conversations. If what I think might make you feel more comfortable turns out to be wrong, I’d rather you say as much so we can try something new.” He gave Fundy a calm look, maybe lightly curious. “So?”

It would probably at least be worth trying. He swallowed and forced himself to nod, though the motion was jerky and hesitant. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s- let’s give it a go, then. With the first way round, I think – you ask me questions and I bank them.”

“Okay!” He stepped away with a hum. “Okay, first game question – I’ll start with something pretty simple, low-pressure… If you were to join a school club, which one would it be and why?”

Fundy grimaced. “Uh, none. Probably. I’ve not really thought about it and- and work takes up most of my free time.” He paused, looking away – it felt against the spirit of the game to not say something more. “Though I think that, even if I didn’t have work, I wouldn’t want to join one. It’s just not my thing?”

“Fair enough!” 5up said. “And now you have a question!”

He wondered for a moment what he should ask – there were a lot of questions rattling around in the back of his mind that he knew would need answers before he could fully trust 5up, but since 5up had started simple, it felt like he should do the same. He’d get the opportunity to ask the other questions if this continued, after all.

“Why did you join the student council?” he asked.

“I joined because Hafu joined.”

“That’s it?”

5up shrugged. “She had a million and one reasons for joining, I’m sure, but my reasons were simply following in her footsteps. Maybe with an added element of knowing she wanted me to be in the student council and wanting to make her happy slash do her proud slash… I don’t know, just go with what I know? I do have a lot of school pride, of course,” he said firmly, “I just don’t know how I would have chosen to embody that if Hafu hadn’t decided to take the role she did.”

It was interesting to know, though it didn’t really make Fundy trust him more. In a way, it just raised even more questions – such as why 5up had then jeopardised his role on Fundy’s behalf on Monday, explicitly going against Hafu, when he’d joined for her? But he couldn’t ask them right then, so he nodded at 5up and said, “It’s your turn.”

“I don’t really want to take turns with it,” 5up said, waving him off. “That has so much potential to just stop the game in its tracks – which reminds me!” He approached Fundy again. “Do you have any ideas for an indicator? Something we can do to show that the question we’re asking is part of the game, not just a general question? Because I really don’t want every question to be a game question, that kind of defeats the whole point of it.”

“Maybe, like, a hand gesture?” he asked, doing a peace sign.

“That could potentially be missed, though,” 5up said, his eyes darting between Fundy’s hands. “Maybe… I mean, holding the other’s wrist would be very noticeable, wouldn’t it?”

Fundy’s wrists prickled, like dozens of ants were crawling across his skin. He rubbed them quickly and stood up straight before saying, “Yeah, okay. The wrist holding thing will be fine.”

“Are you sure?” 5up asked, catching and holding Fundy’s gaze.

“Positive.”

“Okay.” He reached out and loosely wrapped the fingers of his right hand around Fundy’s left wrist. “You mentioned a job – why did you decide to start work?”

“I didn’t really decide,” Fundy said, looking aside. “I already knew the owners and had been hanging around the shop – Rainbow Treats – for years. I ended up helping out a lot and then Niki, one of the owners, started giving me money because she said it didn’t feel right that I’d basically been working there for free, and then that turned into a real job.”

“I see! How’d you know the owners, then? Family members, or…?”

“Is this a second question?” he asked.

“Yep.”

He nodded before pulling his wrist out of 5up’s grasp. “I’m not answering that one,” he said.

“Fair enough.” 5up took his wrist again, thumb pressed against his pulse point. “Why don’t you want to do buddying this year?”

“What?”

“You said maybe when I brought it up on Monday,” 5up said, his eyes boring into Fundy’s, “and your only provided reason for turning it down was ‘cause Hafu wouldn’t be happy with another Jack running around, but do you have another reason or is it just Jack?”

“I…” He frowned, shifting his weight between his feet. “There are other reasons. Like, if I get expelled or home-schooled again, I don’t want to just leave the first-year without a buddy, and it seems like only a matter of time before one of those happens.” And there was the issue of him leaving in a month, but he didn’t want to mention that – still, he thought that went against the rules of the game, so he twisted out of 5up’s grip and said, “I’m not answering more. You can keep your question.”

5up folded his arms and considered Fundy. “I know I promised to back off if you didn’t answer, but, as your friend-”

“We’re friends now?” he asked, confused.

“Sure. Because it lets me say that, as your friend, I think you should sign up to the buddying again.”

He frowned, scanning 5up’s face for any insight into his thoughts. “We started this conversation with me not trusting you,” he pointed out.

“True.”

“And part of that is you going against the rules of your own games – which you’ve just done again.”

“Also true.” 5up shrugged and stepped back, saying, “Or, well, not really – I didn’t really press on the question, after all, I just offered my own opinion on the situation. What, we’re not allowed to talk about any topic one of us decides against answering? Like, if I say I don’t want to answer a question about whether I have a cat, we’re not going to be allowed to talk about cats at all?”

“I… guess that makes sense,” he said, trying to remember the specific rules 5up had laid out.

“I’ll back off now, though,” 5up said. “Since you don’t want to talk.”

“Thanks.” He put his hands in his pockets and considered 5up, who was now glancing back at the clock, giving no indication that he wanted to pry any more questions out of Fundy. “I gotta admit,” he said, “I’m surprised at the kind of questions you’ve been asking.”

“What, really?” 5up asked. “What’s so surprising?”

“They’ve all been, like… normal questions. I kinda expected stuff like this morning again – you asking if I’m really not scared of Jack – or, I don’t know, something like that.”

“Oh.” 5up frowned. “Well, I don’t really want to ask questions that make you uncomfortable, I just want to get to know you!”

“Then why’d you ask that this morning?” he asked.

“It was half a joke, half genuine bewilderment that you’re apparently really not scared of the guy who nearly turned you into Kentucky Fried Fundy. I mean, seriously, the guy’s anger issues would be bad enough without threatening electrocution every time he gets antsy,” he said, giving Fundy a placid smile.

“And you’re not gonna…” He gestured to his wrist, letting his words trail off.

“Nope. Though, word of advice-”

“I don’t want your advice.” Not if it was about Jack. That felt like a step too far.

5up’s jaw clicked shut. “Hm.” After a tense few seconds, he nodded and said, “Fair enough! Well, I think I’ve asked all the questions I wanted to ask right now – both game and otherwise – so was there anything you wanted to ask?”

“Wait, why’d you just ask me a question? I thought you’d asked everything you wanted to ask?”

5up’s mouth curled in a smirk that was somehow both annoyed and amused. “You are a menace,” he said, staring Fundy down. “An absolute menace.”

He grinned, relieved to see that 5up probably wasn’t still holding the refusal against him. “I try!”

“I’m sure you do.” His tone was oddly fond, though it returned to normal as he asked, “Okay, seriously, was there anything more you wanted to talk about?”

“I… I did have a couple questions.” He only had one game question, though, so he needed to figure out which one he needed an honest answer for more. Or, he supposed, he could always hold on to them – but they were burning holes in his tongue, so he came to a swift decision and asked, “Why did you try and trick me on Monday?” He searched 5up’s face as he waited for the answer.

“Is this a game question, or-?”

“No, regular question.” If 5up wanted to lie, he could, and that was part of the point. He still couldn’t entirely trust this game; not when 5up had already proven he was willing to go against his own rules, or at least the spirit of them.

5up considered him for a moment before grimacing, his gaze darting away. “Okay,” he said, “I admit, that was kind of a dick move – and to be honest, I simply misjudged the situation. I thought the compromise would be best for everyone, and-” He paused as Fundy flinched, giving him a curious look. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, standing up and looking aside. “Uh, what were you saying?”

“I… I thought Hafu’s threat of expulsion was just too much, especially with how you reacted, but I also knew that you completely ducking punishment would cause other problems – if it was because of me, then I’d have to deal with Hafu and Mrs. Imporus getting on my case, and I’m not the type to invite misfortune on myself like that.” He shifted his weight before adding, “I didn’t reckon you’d realise what I was doing. That’s on me, I shouldn’t underestimate people.”

His words left a bitter taste in Fundy’s mouth. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

He shrugged, an easy roll of the shoulders. “Hey, you asked why I tried to trick you – I wanted to be sure of a compromise and thought I could get away with it!”

Fundy wanted to ask why this would be different – he wanted to ask a lot of things – but he nodded and took a step forward so that he wasn’t quite so close to the door. “Okay, I- I had a game question too, if that’s alright?”

“Of course!” 5up said, offering Fundy his left wrist. Pushing aside his awkwardness, he took it.

It was still a struggle to make himself ask. He wasn’t sure whether he should really waste his one remaining question on it, especially when he was still so unsure of the game, but he supposed he’d backed himself into a corner now. He met 5up’s gaze and asked, “Why did you give me the ring on Monday?”

5up looked back at him, eyes wide and curious, but when he heard the question they quickly tightened and his mouth twisted to one side. “You looked sad,” he said. “It didn’t feel fair.” He paused for a moment, glancing over Fundy’s shoulder, before adding, “I liked your smile and wanted to see it again.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to do with that piece of information.

“Mostly, I just didn’t think about it. It just struck me as the right thing to do, and I knew I could deal with Hafu and Mrs. Imporus, even if I didn’t like doing so, so I didn’t see any reason not to.” He patted Fundy’s hand and asked, “Are you satisfied with that answer?”

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his wrist and stepping away. “And- thank you. For the answer and for the ring.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling at Fundy. Something about that smile sent sparks racing down Fundy’s spine, but the moment passed and 5up slipped out of the room.

~

The rest of the day dragged by. The conversation with 5up played over and over in the back of his mind as he considered 5up’s answers and wondered what questions to ask next, and it made it hard to focus on school. Making matters worse was that the argument – or whatever it had been – that morning with 5up had completely made any attempts at peace with Jack collapse in on themselves. They were back to sitting silent and separate, the air filled with a crackling tension that threatened to explode at any moment. By the last period, Fundy wanted nothing more than to just leave, and he wondered whether he could get away with skipping it – whether Wilbur had forgotten his ultimatum, whether Hafu would jump on this excuse to punish him. At least the footage of Fundy breaking into the school should have been erased by now, assuming Hafu had been telling the truth, but he couldn’t be sure that’d keep him safe. In the end, he stayed, though he felt jittery and didn’t take in a single word the teacher said.

He’d hoped work would be a nice respite, but Jack didn’t come with him today – he hadn’t even gotten on the same bus as Fundy, though that was the bus that would take him home too. Had 5up upset him that much? Or was it Fundy that had done something wrong? He’d debated texting Jack, maybe trying to apologise, or just checking whether everything was alright, but the words wouldn’t come out properly.

Puffy and Niki both asked Fundy where Jack was and whether they’d argued again, Niki full of soft concern and Puffy with her typical disdain. When he told them that he didn’t know where Jack was and that they hadn’t argued – which wasn’t even a lie – it didn’t change things at all. Indeed, Niki’s frown had deepened and Puffy had muttered a sharp, “Typical.”

He didn’t know if they believed him, but no matter what, Niki was still worried and Puffy still thought it was his fault and Jack still wasn’t there. He was distracted for the rest of his shift, with not even Eret able to brighten his mood, and left feeling no better than when he’d arrived.

It was only when he reached the front door of his house and heard laughter from within that he remembered Kristin had left yesterday. He paused, a swooping disappointment in his stomach, before forcing himself to turn away. Family dinners would no longer have such an easy space for him – the house as a whole wouldn’t have that space, with Wilbur, Phil, and Tommy falling back into their regular orbits around each other and Tubbo dragged along for the ride only because Tommy would never let go of him.

The day after Kristin left had always been the worst too, as Tommy caught Phil up on everything that had happened in his absence and begged stories from him in turn. No one would notice him if he went in right now, and he’d gotten so used to Kristin’s presence that he knew it would sting, even without his current mood making things all the worse.

One time, he had walked straight in, and the suffocating silence that had surrounded him and only him had driven him to smash a glass on the ground just so he wouldn’t be ignored, though the shouting had been awful too and had driven him from the house. That had been back when he’d been more unsure about his space at Schlatt’s, so he’d wandered the streets by himself until the sun had finally risen. No matter how beautiful it may have been, to him, it was nothing more than a marker of yet another night spent alone.

But at least now he was certain that Schlatt would let him stay for as long as he needed, so he tried to shake the worst of his bad mood off and he walked back up the street.

~

The next morning, he went to the bus stop as normal, hoping to see Jack waiting for him. He wasn’t. He didn’t get off the next bus that arrived either, and Fundy stood there with a slowly crumbling hope until Tommy and Tubbo appeared in their usual breathless rush.

Tommy stumbled to a halt, looking between Fundy and the bus stop in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his hurry forgotten as he stepped forward to look at the signs. “This doesn’t even go to the school.”

Fundy looked up the road again. There were no buses in sight. Either Jack had taken a different route to school, or he wasn’t heading in today – and whatever was happening, it seemed clear that he was still avoiding Fundy. He turned away.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, heading back towards Schlatt’s. He’d have gone to work by now, so the house would be empty, a perfect place to hide out for the morning. Schlatt would be back around lunchtime – he only worked part-time – but that would at least give Fundy a couple hours to figure something out.

Behind him, he heard Tommy ask, “The fuck was that about?” and he slipped his headphones on before he could hear Tubbo’s response.

~

In the end, it was hunger that drove him home. Though there was food at Schlatt’s, he didn’t feel comfortable just rifling through the cupboards and stealing from the guy, and with no breakfast and no distractions but his phone, he was struggling to wait for Schlatt’s return. His phone was buzzing with texts and calls from Phil and Wilbur both, but he didn’t bother answering them and simply walked back down the road.

“Fundy!” He was swept up in a bone-crushing hug as he walked through the door, though he was shoved back just as quick, hands gripping his shoulders as Wilbur looked him up and down. “What happened? Why aren’t you at school?”

He glanced at Phil over Wilbur’s shoulder, feeling his skin crawl at the look of plain disapproval he saw there. “I’m sorry,” he said, focusing more on Phil than Wilbur.

“I think we’re past apologies at this point, Fundy,” Phil said, folding his arms.

“I know. I-” He looked away, fighting the urge to shove Wilbur’s hands off. “I just… I missed grandma.”

The shift in demeanour was immediate as Phil’s arms dropped back to his sides and his voice softened. “We all miss Kristin, mate,” he said. “But you can’t be getting into trouble like this – do you think she’d approve of this kind of behaviour?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Phil paused for a moment, then chuckled and said, “Yeah, you got me there. But you can’t just skip school every time you miss someone-”

“I know,” he said, giving Phil a pleading frown. “I really am sorry.” Phil always responded best to straightforward behaviour – letting him know you were upset was a surefire way to get him on your side, unless someone he loved more pulled the same trick. But, with Tommy not around to interfere, Fundy stood a good chance of swaying Phil’s sympathies, and hopefully that’d be enough for him to step in if Wil got mad. Even after a lifetime governed by Wil’s whims, Fundy could never be entirely sure how he’d react.

Thankfully, it seemed that Wilbur was in a good mood today, as he simply sighed and stood back, finally releasing Fundy. “Where even were you?” he asked, his tone having lost its panicked edge.

“I just walked around.” Fundy resettled his bag and properly closed the door behind him. He didn’t yet take off his shoes and jacket, wanting to be ready to run if Wilbur decided he really should be at school.

“And yesterday?”

“I stayed at work late. I hoped it’d distract me, but…” He grimaced and lowered his head, grateful that Wilbur probably wouldn’t check with Niki to see if he was lying.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re back safe,” Wilbur said. “And I think we’ll let you off just this once – let me phone the school and then we can sort out lunch, sound good?”

He breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. The other two went through to the kitchen as Fundy sorted out his things – he overheard a brief snippet of Phil saying, “-need to get better at parenting him, Wil-” though he cut himself off when Wilbur responded.

Ignoring whatever it was they were saying, Fundy went to curl up on one end of the couch, staring blankly at the dark TV screen. It took a few minutes for Wilbur to make the phone call and there was another hushed conversation before Phil went back down to his office and Wil came to lean against the couch.

He waited until Fundy looked up to give him a bright smile and ask, “How about some salmon sandwiches?”

He was so clearly trying to make Fundy feel better, which just made it all the worse that he’d chosen Fundy’s least favourite food. Fundy almost didn’t want to refuse, despite the fact that he wanted to throw up even less – though, at least that might get him off school for an extra few days…

Fundy shook that thought off and asked, “Could I just have some jam sandwiches?”

“Nonsense!” Wilbur said, waving him off. “A growing boy like you needs his protein if he wants to grow up big and strong!”

“I just-”

“Here,” he said, tossing Fundy the remote. “You find something on the telly and I’ll get us a nice spread.” He turned away before hesitating. The smile he gave Fundy was warm, though there was a tightness around his eyes. “It’ll be just like old times, eh?”

Fundy forced himself to smile back. “Yeah. That- that sounds great, dad.”

His smile grew brighter for a brief moment before he left. Fundy stared after him, trying to maintain his own smile for as long as possible. Maybe he could trick himself into actually being happy like this – maybe, for a few hours, he could pretend they were a proper family.

His smile fell as he turned back to the TV.

~

Wilbur got them an array of foods to pick at, salmon sandwiches front and centre, but he thankfully didn’t seem to notice that Fundy ate everything but them. It was a surprisingly nice time, though Fundy couldn’t quite shake off his adrenaline, nor could he stop wondering about what was up with Jack.

When the time came around for him to head off to work, Wilbur gave him a sad smile and asked, “Can’t you take today off? It seems like you’re never around.”

“I can’t,” he said, though a more honest answer would be I don’t want to. Tommy would be home soon and Wilbur would forget all about Fundy, and it would only be Fundy’s fault for sticking around.

Wilbur nodded, as though he’d expected that answer. “Well, tell Niki I said hi, yeah?”

“Will do,” he lied, and he left.

He ran into Tommy and Tubbo at the bus stop again, Tommy cutting off whatever he’d been rambling about to fix Fundy with a glare.

“Where were you?” he asked, pulling Tubbo to a halt.

“At home,” he said, scanning the timetable. He wasn’t used to getting this bus, so he wasn’t sure if it would get him to work on time, but they seemed to be fairly regular so he hoped it would.

“At home?” Tommy repeated. “You were at home?”

“Yeah?”

“And Phil was just- just okay with that?”

He looked up at Tommy with a confused frown. “Yeah? I said I was sorry and that it was just ‘cause I missed Kristin, so…”

Tommy drew back, screwing his face up. With the air of someone about to launch into a tirade he said, “Honestly, you- I don’t get why Phil lets you get away with just so much-”

“Probably because he’s not my dad,” Fundy said, hoping to cut the argument off before it started.

“Not my dad, either,” Tubbo said.

Fundy glanced at him. “Well- yeah? That’s not-”

“Oh, no, I didn’t have a point,” Tubbo was quick to say, tugging on a strand of hair. “I was just saying. Hey, Toms, think you can help me bleach my hair tonight?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Tommy said, adjusting his bag and walking on. It seemed he’d completely forgotten about whatever he’d wanted to say, and Fundy just hoped he wouldn’t remember before the bus arrived. “Is the dye still in date, though?”

“It’s bleach, I don’t think it expires,” Tubbo said as he followed, waving goodbye to Fundy, who waved back.

The last thing Fundy heard was Tommy laughing and asking, “Wait, is that really how it works?” before they vanished around the corner.

He got to work without any further problems and was in the middle of pulling his apron on when the door swung open and he looked up to see Jack standing there, his gaze fixed intently on Fundy. They stared at each other for only a second before Jack turned away, pulling the door shut behind him, but, before he could think about it, Fundy rushed forward and grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait-”

Jack shook him off and said without a backwards glance, “It’s fine, I’m leaving.”

“No, but-”

“You don’t have to-”

“Where were you yesterday?” Fundy asked, stepping to the side to try and catch Jack’s eye. “And- and this morning?”

“Where was I?” Jack asked, frowning at a point over Fundy’s shoulder. “You’re the one who didn’t show up at school today!”

“No, you disappeared first, though.” He jerked a thumb towards the shop, adding, “Niki said you didn’t buy breakfast this morning.”

Silence stretched between them. Fundy shoved his hands into his pockets, considering Jack – the air wasn’t humming, which was good, but he nevertheless seemed tense. A sad kind of tense, perhaps. There was a tightness around his eyes and mouth, and his hands hung loose at his sides, lacking the kind of sharp energy he had when he was angry.

“Is this about what 5up said?” he asked. “Or- or about what I said?”

“It’s not-” Jack huffed and turned away, mouth twitching. “I don’t want to scare you. I’m sorry I kept hanging around, I-”

“You don’t, though! I said, you don’t!”

Jack’s gaze swept across the street – there were a few people walking about, but no one was approaching the shop yet.

“I can’t control it, though,” Jack said in an undertone. “My- my anger and- I just can’t.” He grimaced, dropping his gaze to the floor. “5up said that- that not wanting to hurt you just means I’m going to feel real bad if I do, it doesn’t mean I definitely won’t.”

“Do you want me to be scared of you?” Fundy asked, wondering yet again what 5up’s angle with all this was.

“No! Or- I don’t know!” Jack sighed, running a hand down his face, before finally turning to look at Fundy. “I don’t want to hurt you! I want things to go back to normal, but- but they’re not and I just- I wish you’d never stepped through that fucking door.”

He stared down at his hands, still clutching apron ties. “I don’t get what that has to do with yesterday, though,” he said to avoid them getting back into all that again.

“I feel like you’re lying about not being scared of me,” Jack said. “Because the only people who aren’t are the people who don’t fucking know. And I-”

“I’m being honest,” he said, forcing himself to meet Jack’s gaze. “I mean, that stuff is scary, don’t get me wrong, but you’re my friend – I think – and- and I trust you.”

Jack stared at him for several seconds before giving a humourless laugh and shaking his head. “Then you’re a fucking idiot,” he said.

“I prefer being an idiot to not being your friend.”

“You-” He cut himself off with another sigh. “Look, I- I hate this,” he said, sweeping a hand over himself, then gesturing between the two of them. “And the whole talking thing, and- and I can’t even properly talk about it because-” He swept a hand out towards the street.

“I know.”

Jack’s hand dropped back down, hitting his leg with a sharp thwack. “What the fuck are we even meant to do now?” he asked, sounding exhausted.

He glanced back at the shop, spotting Niki and Puffy both peering out at them, though neither approached the door. “I like normal,” he said to Jack, tying his apron up. “Let’s go with normal for now and then- then we can see about talking about stuff later, yeah?”

“I wish we didn’t have to talk,” Jack muttered.

“Me too.” He tugged his apron, making sure it lay straight, then nodded towards the shop. “Want to come in?”

There was still tension in his shoulders, but he nodded and followed Fundy without further complaint, and really, that was all Fundy could ask for.

Chapter Text

When he got home that evening, heart light from an afternoon spent just enjoying his time at the shop with Jack again, he was hit with the scent of bleach as soon as he opened the door. Tubbo sat on the sofa, hair newly brightened and still damp, almost as pale as Phil’s pure-white hair – though it took a while for Fundy to notice him, as Tommy was chasing Wilbur around the living room and yelling about him stealing something. Fundy winced at the sensory overload and slipped back out again. No one noticed him. He decided he’d spend the night at Schlatt’s; even if everything smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke, at least there wouldn’t be so much shouting.

The next morning, he found himself holding his breath as he approached the street with the bus stop. Maybe Jack had decided not to show up again – maybe Fundy had just tricked himself into believing things were fine now.

He’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

And that was that. Jack did pull a face when he saw 5up, but when 5up did nothing but smile and wave at the two of them, he was able to relax and so did Fundy. The classes were easier to sit through, mind-numbingly boring as they were, now that he wasn’t stressing out about whether Jack hated his guts. Though Jack still disappeared at lunchtime and Fundy still struggled with the curiosity and longing and upset that arose when he thought of the paths, it was easier to let it pass when he knew they’d be sitting on the bus again that afternoon, watching the rest of the world slip by.

~

“Can I take some time off next week?” Fundy asked Niki when there was a lull in the customers.

She nodded, pulling the roster out from under the counter. “Of course! What day did you want off?”

“Uh- Thursday doesn’t tend to be busy, right?” It was a Thursday today and the shop had been pretty quiet. “Let’s go for the Thursday.”

“You can take any day off, Fundy, don’t worry about it – or more than one, even!”

Before she could get on his case for not taking proper breaks, he said, “But I like coming here! It’s literally the best place in the whole world.”

She flushed and, as Jack chimed in to agree, gave them both a smile. “Aw, thanks! But you can come here without working here, you know.”

“I know.” He didn’t say anything more – he knew she’d disapprove if he admitted he wanted to pay them back for letting him be here, that she’d say for the millionth time that he didn’t have to earn his place in their lives. It was something he knew logically, but he still couldn’t shake the urge to help out where he could, and if he could do so and get to enjoy being here, then what was the harm, really?

She sighed and pulled a pen out. “So, Thursday?” she asked.

“Yep. Just the Thursday.”

As she made a note of it, she asked, “Doing anything fun?”

“Going on another date with Dream, actually-”

“Wait, what?” Jack asked, standing up straight. “Since when have you and Dream been together?”

“Uh… since Sunday? We went on a date – we went to see Treasure Planet, since it was in the theatre, and… yeah.” Right in the heart of that stretch of time where they hadn’t really been talking. Fundy felt awkward bringing it up again, and from the way Jack sagged against the counter, he was sure he wasn’t the only one.

“Oh. Right, we weren’t- yeah.” Jack cleared his throat, gaze cutting away, and asked, “How did it go?”

Fundy forced a grin, trying to break the tension, and said, “Great! We’re proper boyfriends now and everything, and he was so funny and sweet and hot and- and he remembered what kind of candy I liked, which was-” He waved his hands and made an awed noise, struggling to properly put words to the warmth that gesture had sparked in him.

“Wow, he remembers candy,” Jack said with an amused smirk. “He’s a real catch, he is.”

He whacked Jack’s shoulder. “It’s been, like, two years since I told him what candy I liked, okay?”

Jack rolled his eyes and conceded, “Alright, that’s impressive. Kinda creepy too, though.”

“It’s not that bad.”

He put his chin in his hands and stared at the back wall as he asked, musing, “Should I give him the shovel talk? I feel like I should give him the shovel talk.”

Fundy’s stomach twisted. “Please don’t, things are going well!”

“Yeah, and I want him to know that if things stop going well, it’s going to end badly for him!” Jack said with a sharp grin, before abruptly standing and pulling out his phone. “Hold on.”

“You better not be messaging him,” Fundy said.

“Nah, I’m asking Tubbo for some good threats – the guy’s terrifying, and I want to have a few to hand.” He glanced up at Fundy and added, “I don’t even have Dream’s number.”

“I’m surprised you have Tubbo’s, though.”

His gaze darted to Niki, who was watching them in amusement, before he said, “Club stuff.”

“Oh, right.” He guessed it made sense that all the magic people had each other’s numbers.

Before he could continue trying to discourage Jack, the bell above the door chimed, distracting Fundy with another rush of customers.

~

“Oh, this one – the police will never stop finding your body!” Jack read out as they walked towards the bus stop. The threats, all courtesy of Tubbo, had ranged from the classic to the truly bizarre. Jack laughed and tapped at his phone, saying, “Now he’s threatening reassembly- on a molecular level? What?” He paused. “His answer was ‘I’m going to make your atoms collide, bitch’.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Fundy said.

“And now he’s distracted wondering whether or not he could make my atoms collide.” He glanced up at Fundy and, with a tone that was clearly trying to be joking, but just as clearly covering up some genuine fear, he said, “If we suddenly get wiped out in an atomic blast, I guess we’ll know why!”

“There are worse ways to go.” Fundy didn’t think Tubbo would actually try to do something like that – he had to have at least some self-preservation, right?

“Oh, the classic I know where you live and- hey, what the fuck?” Jack came to a sudden stop, staring down at his phone. “That’s my house, why’s he sent me a picture of my house?”

“Your house?” He stopped too, looking back at Jack.

“He says he’s going to mess my parents’ DNA up so bad it’s going to retroactively make me bald.”

His eyes darted to Jack’s buzzcut. “Uh-”

“I’m not bald.”

“If you say so.”

Jack put his phone away and scowled at Fundy. “Your family sucks,” he said as they started walking again. “Every last one of you. You’re all terrible.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” he said with a grin.

“No – you included, though! You just called me bald!”

“I literally didn’t.” Only because Jack had cut him off, but that was beside the point.

“You implied it,” Jack said.

“Eh, it depends on your point of view, really,” he said, looking away. “Besides, you’re the one who got Tubbo talking about threats, you really should have expected this.”

“I should have expected being told ‘I’m going to spaghettify your dog and mix it in with the school lunches’? I don’t even have a dog!”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yeah, and he said he was going to give me a dog and wait until I grew attached before doing it – he’s a serial killer in the making, I swear to god.”

“And yet, you kept sending him messages until the bald thing,” Fundy pointed out, glancing at an increasingly agitated looking Jack.

“Well…” Jack shrugged. “It’s funny, ennit?”

“But not the bald thing?”

“Not the bald thing.”

He shook his head as they reached the bus stop. “If you don’t want to be called bald, why don’t you grow your hair out?” he asked, checking the time.

“If you don’t want to be called a furry, why do you have a hat with fox ears on it?”

He glared at Jack, cheeks warming. “That’s not- that’s different! It’s an aesthetic choice, and-”

“Yeah, and so’s my hair!” Jack exclaimed, pointing at his own head. “Which I have!”

“It’s an aesthetic choice that makes you look bald.”

“And your hat makes you look like a fucking furry.”

He took a seat on one of the benches, trying to resist the urge to continue arguing – but he couldn’t keep from adding, “I don’t even wear it that often, though.”

“You wear it more often than any sane person would,” Jack said, slumping in the seat beside Fundy.

“But your hair is like that literally all of the time.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda how hair is! I can’t just magically make it longer for a day-” He paused and frowned up at the bus stop ceiling. “Wait, could I?”

“Could you?”

“I mean, not me,” Jack said, “but there are all sorts of weird doodads and the like-”

“Is that the technical term?” he asked, lips quirking.

“Yes,” he said, swatting at his arm, “shut up.”

He hit Jack back and pulled his phone out to keep from saying anything else. But, to his surprise, it was only a few seconds before Jack asked, “So, uh… what did you talk to 5up about?”

“Huh?” He looked up again, frowning in confusion.

“He said you’d been talking, like, often when I asked.”

“We’ve not talked that often,” Fundy said. He took a moment to think back; it was kind of strange to realise it had only been three or so days. “Just… just since Monday. I don’t even have his number yet.”

“Right, but… what about? Is it just the,” he paused, glancing around – no one else was in the bus stop, so he continued, “the magic stuff, or…?”

“No, other stuff too. Favourite and least favourite flavours of institutional punishment, for example.”

Jack squinted at him, mouth twisted to one side. “You what?”

He fought a smile. “Hm?”

“No, don’t just hm at me – what the fuck does that even mean?”

“What are you not getting?”

Several seconds ticked by as Fundy tried to maintain his composure in the face of Jack’s glower. In the end, it was Jack who broke first, turning his gaze towards the road as he asked, “Well, did you talk about anything normal?”

“Depends what you mean by normal,” Fundy said, letting himself grin since Jack was distracted.

He huffed and kicked Fundy’s ankle. “If you’re going to be like that, just forget it.”

“No, I- We talked about a lot of stuff, though,” he said quickly. “The shop, home, school, buddying – he had a lot of questions about things. Mostly I did just ask about magic stuff, but… yeah, no, we talked about a lot.”

“The shop?” Jack asked, sounding confused. “Why’d he ask about the shop?”

“I mentioned I had a job when we were talking about the school clubs,” he said, scrolling through the day’s messages as he spoke. “He wanted to know if there were any clubs I was interested in, I said no ‘cause I had a job, and then he asked a bit about the job too.”

“Huh.” Jack scuffed his foot against the ground. “Not what I expected you and him to talk about, honestly.”

“What did you expect us to talk about?”

He hesitated, looking at Fundy out of the corner of his eye, before looking back at the road again. “Uh- I don’t know. Mostly just the magic stuff, like I said.”

It seemed clear that there was something Jack wasn’t saying. Still, Fundy didn’t know if they were on solid enough ground yet for him to pry, so he turned his attention back to his phone when a thought occurred to him, drawn out by the memories of his conversations with 5up. He debated with himself whether to bring it up or not – but, he supposed, there was no real harm in just asking, so he did. “Was I alright as a buddy?”

“Yeah, you were,” Jack said. He gave Fundy a confused look. “Why you asking?”

“5up mentioned doing it again since I’m, y’know, doing it all again, and…” He shrugged and put his phone away, trying to maintain a casual air as he said, “I’ve been considering it? It’s about the only part of last year I liked.”

Jack snorted, mouth curling. “Yeah, I hear that. But still, aren’t you going to be leaving in a few weeks?”

“I am, yeah.”

“Do you really want to prove Puffy and them right?” he asked, drumming his fingers against his leg. “Taking responsibility and then just running off isn’t really a good look.”

Fundy chewed on the inside of his lip. “I… well, that’s the main thing that’s stopping me, really,” he admitted.

“That’s fair.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Then Jack sighed, the sound sharp, and he turned to face Fundy. With surprising fervour, he said, “Look, last year was a fucking nightmare for me. My parents, the whole dying thing – god, that feels weird to say out loud.” He frowned, gaze fixed on something over Fundy’s shoulder, before shaking himself. “But, anyway, I- I think you, I think being your friend – or buddy, or whatever – that was… good.” He met Fundy’s gaze squarely. “Not just good in comparison, but good. And I-” He took a deep breath and looked away, a shadow crossing his face. “I don’t know if I would have made it through last year without that. You.”

“Oh.” The realisation that, at some point in the time he’d known Jack, Jack had died struck him down to his core – Jack had died and Fundy hadn’t noticed. It was something he’d already been aware of, but something about Jack saying it now made him sick to his stomach. It felt more real now – now that he could recognise the darkness in Jack’s eyes from 5up and Tommy and Tubbo as well. Probably Hafu too, if he’d ever looked for it.

“You should buddy with Ranboo,” Jack said firmly, pulling Fundy’s attention back to the topic at hand. “The kid’s in over his head, he keeps getting left out of the Hafu-and-5up duo and the Tommy-and-Tubbo duo and, like, I’m not in a position to help him out! I can’t even help myself out! But- I don’t know. Having someone else who knows about magic-” He paused to glare at Fundy, mouth screwed up. “Even if I don’t want you to know about magic, you do. And, with this, it might be helpful. And- well, even if it’s just for a month, I think it – being buddied with you – could be good for him.”

“You really think so?” Fundy asked.

Jack nodded, conviction clear in his gaze. “I really do.”

“I… I don’t know what to say to that.” He was still hesitant, his uncertainty now cut with that rotting guilt and a breathless feeling as he considered the weight Jack had placed upon him – that Fundy had somehow been able to help someone who’d literally died, and that that same person trusted him to help someone else in a similar way. He felt small. He felt like he should have done more for Jack – he felt like he couldn’t do enough for Ranboo.

The bus came into view, and Jack shrugged and stood. “Well, I said my piece. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

He pushed himself to his feet, gaze darting between Jack and the fast-approaching bus – they didn’t have time. He forced himself to nod and wave goodbye as he flagged it down. “See you.”

What Jack had said plagued him for the rest of the evening, the question of what he should do – what he could do – for Ranboo swimming endlessly through his mind. He got home late, planning to just head to bed without a word to his family. He’d only come back here instead of staying at Schlatt’s so Wilbur wouldn’t have reason to get upset.

He was surprised by Tubbo, lying upside-down on the sofa, calling across the room to him as he closed the door.

“He stopped responding to my threats,” Tubbo said, waving his phone through the air. “Is something wrong?”

“We greet people with hello in this house, Tubbo,” Wilbur said, which was mighty hypocritical of him in Fundy’s opinion. “Also, who are you threatening?”

“I’m cyberbullying Fundy’s boyfriend by proxy.”

“Wait- Fundy, you’re dating someone?” Wilbur asked, turning in his chair to stare at Fundy. “Since when?”

“I brought it up when Kristin was around,” Fundy said, feeling a spark of annoyance cut through the aimless grief sitting heavy in his chest.

“Oh, congrats, mate!” Phil said, giving Fundy a bright grin, while Wilbur just kept staring at him with confusion.

“Did you?”

Fundy looked away. “Also, Tubbo, you called him bald and he got pissy.”

“Your boyfriend’s bald?” Tommy asked. “You’re not dating Jack, are you?”

“Nope and nope.”

“I didn’t even call him bald,” Tubbo said, holding his phone out. “I said that I wanted to remove his free will and then pour ants down the back of his shirt.”

“You did call him bald – or, threatened to retroactively make him bald?” Fundy said. He kicked his shoes off and added, “It was when you sent him the picture of his house.”

“Oh, that.” Tubbo started scrolling back through the messages – he’d sent an awful lot.

Dreading how Tubbo might answer, he leaned over the banister and asked, “Why did you even have a picture of his house?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He seemed to give up on searching for the specific message, turning his phone off and tossing it to one side. After a moment he said thoughtfully, “Y’know, I really do think we could do without free will.”

Wilbur shook his head and said, “I’m sure there are many people in the world who wish that you, specifically, had less.”

“Cowards.”

Fundy started walking up the stairs, figuring the conversation had moved past the point of requiring his presence, but Wilbur’s head snapped around and he gave Fundy a frown.

“Are you really just going up to your room?” he asked. “It’s still early, spend some time with the family instead of hiding away like an archetypical angsty teenager.”

“I am an arche… whatever you just said.”

“Oh, come on! Maybe you could tell us about this boyfriend that you’ve apparently been keeping secret?”

He glanced over the room and its inhabitants and grimaced, shoving away from the banister. “Pass. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He heard Wilbur sigh. The disappointment was almost tangible, enough to stop Fundy in his tracks for a moment – he felt like he was suffocating in it – but then Tommy broke the silence and the tension disappeared so suddenly it was like it had never been there in the first place. Fundy shook himself and continued walking.

~

Jack handed him a box of blueberry muffins the next morning and, without preamble, said, “I’ve figured out what I’m going to threaten Dream with.”

“Again, please don’t threaten Dream,” Fundy said, taking a muffin out and shoving the rest in his bag.

“I’ve decided,” Jack said, ignoring him, “to sic the most deranged individuals I know on him.” He paused for a moment, watching Fundy with a showman’s air, his hands held out before him. When he eventually spoke, he delivered the words slowly and deliberately. “Tubbo, Tommy, and HBomb.”

“What?”

“I’m being serious!” he said, even as Fundy’s confused laughter drew a smile from him too. “No, no I am! I tell you, knowing those three is a fate worse than death-” He cut himself off and Fundy bit his tongue, laughter curdling in his chest. “Or,” Jack said after a moment, with a too-bright tone, “at least close.”

“Right,” he said, looking away. “I still don’t really think they’re deranged, though – especially not HBomb.”

“I’ve been sent some catmaid photos that beg to differ!”

Fundy pulled a face. “Alright, fair, but-”

“And Tommy’s the kinda guy to figure out exactly what you’re most sensitive about,” he said, absent-mindedly skimming a hand across his hair, “and to just keep hitting that button until you want to strangle him, and then he’ll ask to come ‘round your house so he can flirt with your mum-”

“Did that actually happen?”

“No.” Jack glared at him. “Not- it happened to someone else, okay?”

He bit into the muffin to hide his smile. “Mhm!”

“Okay.” He sighed and waved Fundy off. “And Tubbo’s the easiest – I can just show him the text messages, and they’ll haunt him to his grave. Assuming he even has a grave. They might need to just,” he waved his hands through the air, “shove what’s left of him in some waterproof container before they can bury him.”

“I… What?” Maybe he shouldn’t be eating right now. “Why would it need to be waterproof?”

Jack laughed and pulled his phone out. “Tubbo was really into the idea of liquidation,” he said, “sent about 50 different variants on that theme alone. I think the least awful to read one is the one where he said he wanted to create a new god for the sole purpose of, quote, ‘smiting you into soup’.” He put his phone away and added, “I think he was literally the worst person in the world to end up with magic powers.”

“Yep.”

“So I think that’s a pretty good shovel talk,” Jack said decisively, nodding to himself. “The guy’s never going to know what hit him.”

“You’re going to scare him off.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, well, as long as he doesn’t hurt you, he’s got nothing to worry about!”

“If he thinks my social circle is made up entirely of deranged individuals,” Fundy said, “why on earth would he want to stay with me?”

“He already knows HBomb, doesn’t he?”

“Doesn’t mean he knows about catmaid HBomb. Normal HBomb is- well, normal.” He caught Jack’s gaze and said, “Look, he and I both know this isn’t really going to- to be a thing. I’m leaving soon, and I’ve told him that, so we’re just boyfriends for now. It’s all very casual. I really don’t want to scare him off – I just want to enjoy having a boyfriend for the- what, month I have left?”

Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, fair,” he said, “but- I don’t know, I just… it would suck if he sucked-”

“Nah, people are into that.”

“Shut up.” He shoved Fundy, glaring at him when he laughed. “No, but seriously!” he said, and Fundy fell silent. “You want to enjoy having a boyfriend – I want you to enjoy having a boyfriend too! So I want to make sure he doesn’t do anything to ruin that!”

“And thanks for that,” Fundy said honestly. “I just… feel like it’s a bit much.”

“That’s fair.” He looked away, before turning back to Fundy with a grin. “Can I sic ‘em on him if he does do something bad, though? No forewarning? I mean, maintaining the element of surprise is a valid strategy, so not doing the shovel talk would work in our favour, really.”

“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Be my guest.”

“Great.”

They entered the school and Fundy caught a glimpse of pink curls, reminding him that he should really figure out what he wanted to do about the buddying. After arguing with himself for a moment, he turned to catch up with 5up, waving Jack off. He resolved to at least try and buddy with Ranboo, even if he was still worried he might do more harm with his departure than he’d do good with his presence – that was a question he didn’t think had an answer, and he’d rather do what he could to help than turn a blind eye.

He cut through the crowd to grab the elbow of 5up’s sleeve, releasing it as he turned around. “Uh, hey.”

“Hello!” he said brightly. Hafu, who he’d been walking with, came to a stop just beyond 5up and gave Fundy a hard look, which 5up didn’t seem to notice. “How can I help you?”

“The whole buddying thing,” he said, adjusting his bag’s strap just for something to do with his hands, “is that still…?”

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?” 5up said with a laugh. “But yes, it’s still on the table. I can get that sorted for you, if you’d like?”

“Please.”

“No worries!” 5up bobbed his head and said, “Everyone’s meeting in the last period in the gym – is that right?” He turned to Hafu.

With a grimace, she said, “Yes. Last period in the gym.”

5up nodded at Fundy again. “So make sure you’re there!”

“Got it,” he said, giving 5up a grateful smile before heading on to class.

~

“So you really want to sign up for the buddying again,” Hafu said, folding her arms and giving him a searching look. He was about to respond when she abruptly asked, “Why’s 5up suddenly decided to befriend you? What did you even talk about during his game?”

“Things,” he said, tugging his sleeves down. “Stuff. None of your business, really.”

She drew herself up to her full height – which had a surprisingly intimidating effect, considering she was so short – and gave him a dark look. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“You know how this works,” she said, turning away to pick up a clipboard. “Don’t cause any trouble.”

He nodded and left before she changed her mind.

There were quite a few students in the gym, the first-years all wearing nametags and many of them looking uncomfortable. He glimpsed Tubbo bouncing on the balls of his feet and giving the room a curious look. He had to turn away to hide his smile. Honestly, Fundy pitied whoever’d end up with him.

Sitting on a chair in the far corner was a gangly student Fundy thought he’d seen following Tommy and Tubbo around. He drew closer, trying to get a better look at their nametag.

“Ranboo?” he asked, not able to get a good angle.

Ranboo – or, who he assumed was Ranboo – looked up with a startled air, though he couldn’t actually see his expression, not with the mask and sunglasses he was wearing. “Uh, yeah? Hi? Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m Fundy Soot, one of the third-years.”

“Oh!” Ranboo looked him up and down. “You’re, uh- you’re Jack’s friend, aren’t you?”

“Yep. I actually buddied with him last year and he also suggested I maybe buddy with you, so… Hi!”

“Did he? That’s…” He paused, adjusting his mask. “That’s interesting. Um. Yeah, hi. Again.”

He gestured to the seat beside Ranboo. “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah, sure!” Ranboo said, shifting to the side. Once he’d sat, Ranboo asked, “You know Tommy and Tubbo too, don’t you?”

“They’re my uncles,” he said, curling his fingers around the edge of the chair. “I’m guessing you know them quite well?”

“Kinda. They’re… nice.”

He snorted and looked away, kicking one of his heels against the floor. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Oh, do you not- don’t you like them?”

“It’s complicated,” he said, not really wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of his family with some poor first-year who didn’t know him.

“…Okay.”

“Do you-”

“Ranboo!” Tubbo came skidding to a halt in front of them, either oblivious to or uncaring of the way Ranboo flinched back. “I didn’t know you were doing this!”

“Well…” He spread his hands. “I am?”

“You are!” Tubbo turned to Fundy and asked, “Do you know Ranboo then?”

“Just met,” Fundy said. “But, uh, Jack recommended I buddy with him.”

“Makes sense, makes sense.” He gestured to Ranboo, saying, “He’s well nice, though, I’m sure you’ll like him!” He turned back to Ranboo and, gesturing to Fundy, said, “He gets into more trouble than me and Tommy combined, you’re going to hate him.”

“Oi.” Fundy kicked Tubbo’s ankle. “Shouldn’t you be making the rounds yourself, anyway?”

“Nah, I already know who I’m buddying with,” Tubbo said, looking around. “He- Oh, Cup!” he called out, waving his hand above his head. “Over here!”

5up came over, wearing a smile that brightened when he caught sight of Fundy – he tried to ignore the way it made his cheeks warm. “Fundy!” he said, voice warm. “Glad to see you could make it!”

“Uh, you too!”

5up greeted Ranboo too before taking the seat beside Fundy, while Tubbo decided to settle himself cross-legged on the floor. Fundy glanced at Ranboo, wondering how he felt about these two just showing up – but, to be fair, they knew Ranboo better than he did, so maybe they could help ease the conversation? With the mask and glasses covering his face, it was hard to tell anything about how he was feeling just by looking at him.

As 5up spoke, Fundy turned back to face him. “This little gremlin,” he said, kicking Tubbo’s knee, “is my buddy!”

“I am!” Tubbo said. “I am both of those things!”

He looked between the two of them. “Why?”

“He’s a lot of fun,” 5up said with a shrug.

“And 5up is objectively the coolest person in your year,” Tubbo said, shooting Fundy a grin. “No offence!”

“Rude.” He sat back in his chair and glanced towards Ranboo again. “Do you know who Tommy’s buddied with?”

“He said that this was stupid,” Tubbo said, “and that he’s a big man who doesn’t need a ‘buddy’. I think – he was talking a lot about being a big man, so I’m assuming that was the gist of it, but I kinda zoned out.”

“What did he think about you doing it?” he asked.

Tubbo shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. “I haven’t told him yet. I don’t think he’ll care – the standards are always different for him, y’know?”

5up cut in to ask, “What about you two? How goes with the ice breakage?”

“Tubbo kind of interrupted that,” he said, kicking Tubbo’s other knee. “I think we’d just got through names and acquaintances we had in common.”

“Which is basically the whole magic group, isn’t it?” Tubbo asked. His tone was excited and far too loud as he continued, “Did you know Ranboo can teleport? Isn’t that cool?”

Ranboo jerked, head swivelling like an owl. 5up kicked Tubbo again, saying, “Not in public, Tubbo.”

“Oh, right.” He slumped and muttered in a quiet, morose tone, “But it’s so cool, though.”

“What do you do for fun?” Fundy asked before Tubbo could say anything else he really shouldn’t.

“Oh, uh…” Ranboo wrung his hands. “I like… games? And… and I do volleyball? Sometimes? Or- I did, I suppose-”

“Everyone likes games,” Tubbo said, leaning forwards to poke Ranboo’s knee.

“That’s cool!” Fundy said, kicking Tubbo again. This time Tubbo pulled his legs to his chest, glaring at him and 5up. “What kind of games do you like?”

Ranboo relaxed minutely and answered and, from there, the conversation flowed a lot easier. Still, it was easy to see that Ranboo was the nervous sort, and Fundy was pretty sure he wouldn’t feel comfortable buddying with a troublemaker – he briefly debated going to meet some of the other first-years before dismissing that thought. He was only here because Jack had thought he’d be able to help Ranboo specifically before he left.

When the bell rang, they stood and went to collect their forms. To Fundy’s surprise, Hafu approached the four of them, giving him and Ranboo an expectant look.

“Because of your special circumstances,” she said, “I thought I’d catch up with you both specifically to see how this went.”

“Am I not special circumstances?” Tubbo asked, a faintly bewildered expression on his face.

“No, you- no.” She waved him and 5up off. “You two carry on, you’re fine.”

Ranboo muttered a quiet, “Oh boy,” as the other two left, 5up glancing between Hafu and Fundy while Tubbo just frowned at nothing in particular.

“You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this,” Fundy said, trying to keep his voice low – there were still some other students in the area, and he didn’t want to draw any more attention to Ranboo if possible.

“Then let’s keep this brief,” she said. “How did it go?”

Ranboo turned to Fundy, silent, so he shrugged and said, “It went alright? We… talked? There wasn’t anything- It was fine.”

“Uh huh.” Her gaze darted between them, eyes narrowed – assessing rather than disapproving, he thought, but it still rankled. “Did you want to buddy with Ranboo, then?”

“If Ranboo wanted to,” he said, deciding to be honest.

After considering them for a moment more, she said, “I think I’ll talk to Ranboo one-on-one. Fundy, you can go.”

He felt Ranboo stiffen beside him, but he could hardly stay when Hafu wanted to ask him about Fundy. Still, it was with some hesitance that he said to Ranboo, “I’ll see you around?” Only when he nodded did Fundy leave.

It didn’t take long to fill out the form – he just made a note that he’d buddy with Ranboo if Ranboo wanted, but otherwise would opt out – and he handed it over to one of the other student council members. With a glance towards Hafu and Ranboo, who were still talking, he left the gym.

When the final bell rang, he waited outside the school and kept an eye out for Ranboo. He wasn’t sure if Ranboo would even want to talk to him, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

He watched the crowds as he waited, noticing Tommy and Tubbo talking about eating dirt for some reason – Tommy speaking so loudly that, even on the other side of the yard, Fundy could hear him – and Hafu and 5up walking together, talking far more quietly. Hafu was smiling, which made Fundy uncomfortable – he never really saw her happy. It felt especially wrong for him to see this, considering how much trouble he’d caused for her. He averted his gaze to Dream as she laughed, and, despite being surrounded by other students, Dream still caught Fundy’s eye and blew him a kiss. Fundy grinned back at him, heart fluttering.

“Hi.” Fundy jumped. Ranboo had come up beside him without him noticing, and he took a half-step back as he noticed Fundy’s surprise. “Uh, sorry. I- I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” Fundy said, looking up at him. It was weird to see how tall Ranboo was now that he wasn’t sitting down – he may have even been taller than Wilbur. “Uh, hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Ranboo said, nodding. He turned away after a second, looking out over the sea of students. “I- I just figured I should let you know – I mean, Hafu might have already, I don’t know – but I- uh, she agreed to… to make you my buddy? Or make me your buddy – I don’t really know how the terminology works.”

He blinked, stunned. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah?” Ranboo glanced at him, eyes barely visible from the side of his glasses. “If- if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s great!” he said, allowing a grin to spread across his face. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “But are you okay with that? I mean, you’re not just agreeing to this to make things easier for everyone, are you?”

“No, no- uh, maybe a little.” He laughed, ducking his head. “But you seem nice! And- and confident, and I could really do with learning that. Um… sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it!” he said quickly – though he’d felt a brief upset at hearing Ranboo had partially agreed to avoid causing problems, he was still glad to know that, apparently far greater than that, Ranboo had agreed because he’d liked Fundy. Fundy still wasn’t really used to that kind of thing. “I hope that I can teach you alright – I mean, I don’t know that I can really teach confidence, I’m mostly just faking it myself. But I’ll try my best!”

Ranboo’s shoulders eased and his head tilted slightly as he chuckled. His eyes were just visible through his glasses, squinted shut in a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

“Well… thanks,” he said, smiling back at Ranboo. It then occurred to him that the yard was almost deserted and he quickly checked the time on his phone. His bus would be arriving soon. “Uh, sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got work,” he said, looking up again, “do you want to exchange numbers or something? Or, I mean, you could come with if you wanted, but- I don’t know, it’s up to you.”

Ranboo hesitated. “Is it okay if I come with?” he asked. “Your boss won’t get mad?”

“Nah, it’s fine – Jack comes by all the time. Honestly, she’ll probably be happy to see I’ve made a new friend.”

Calling Ranboo a friend might have been presumptuous, but to his relief Ranboo just smiled again and nodded before falling into step beside him. They got to the bus stop in the nick of time, Jack already there and flagging the bus down. He grinned at the two of them as they followed him on.

“Look at you!” he said. “Did it go alright, then?”

“Went great!” Fundy said, checking Ranboo had been able to get on alright – he had a ticket already, which was a relief. “Hafu didn’t even raise that big of a fuss.”

“Not to your face, maybe,” Ranboo said with a half-joking tone. “She, ah- She said quite a bit after you’d left.”

“Can’t have been that bad, if you still wanted to buddy with me.”

Ranboo shrugged and fell into one of the seats – it was really more of a crumpling motion, as his long limbs folded at odd angles until he was settled. “I figured you couldn’t be that bad,” he said. “Not if Tubbo and Jack and 5up all like you. I- I don’t actually know how Tommy feels about you, though?”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” he said. “I’d be surprised if Tommy knew how Tommy feels about me. He seems to change his mind every other day.”

“You’re giving him too much credit,” Jack said, “you’re implying he has any thoughts at all!”

Fundy shook his head with a smile before turning to Ranboo – it was probably worth changing the subject. “Have you ever been to Rainbow Treats before?”

“Nope,” Ranboo said, shaking his head. “Is that where you work?”

“Yeah, it’s a bakery café type place-”

“And florist and ice cream shop – do ice cream shops have a special name?” Jack asked, giving Fundy a quizzical look.

“No clue.”

“It’s a weird place, basically,” he continued, turning to Ranboo again. “Great food, though, absolutely top-notch.”

“I see!” Ranboo said. “Sounds, um, interesting!”

Jack gave Fundy a grin and said, “You should stick that on a sign out the front of the shop: ‘sounds, um, interesting’! Gonna rake in all the customers!”

“It’s an accurate description of the place, to be fair.”

“True!”

It wasn’t long before they reached their stop, and then it was only a short walk to the shop, made shorter by Fundy affecting a half-job to keep up with Ranboo’s long legs. Ranboo kept apologising and trying to slow down, but it would only be a moment before he was striding down the street again and leaving Fundy and Jack in the dust. It was probably only the fact that Ranboo didn’t know where he was going that kept Fundy from having to run.

“There it is,” Fundy said as they rounded the corner, taking a moment to catch his breath as he pointed towards the shop. With its brightly coloured sign and even brighter array of flowers out the front, it was near-impossible to miss.

“Oh, wow!” Ranboo said. “It’s very, uh- very aptly named!”

“I thought you were about to say gay,” Jack said. “Which, to be fair, it is.”

“It’s really more bisexual, all things considered,” Fundy said, before turning back to Ranboo. “Have you not even seen it before?” he asked, starting to walk again. It was just off the main street in the town centre – while it wasn’t inconceivable that Ranboo had just missed it, it was still surprising. Fundy had assumed everyone in town knew about the shop.

“Oh, I don’t get out much,” Ranboo said. “I was in a volleyball club at my last school and that took up a lot of time, and now I’ve moved to a new place with new people and the school doesn’t even have a volleyball club so… I don’t know. I’ve just struggled to make friends, so I don't have a lot of reasons to leave the house.”

Fundy looked away, trying to hide how the words had hit him. “That sounds like it sucks. What about Tommy and Tubbo, though? Tubbo seemed real happy to see you earlier.”

“They’re nice, but they clearly know each other very well.” Ranboo followed Fundy into the shop, sighing, and Jack brought up the rear. “I don’t know. It’s probably silly, but I just feel like an outsider when I hang out with them.”

“Understandable,” Jack said, leaning against the counter. “They’re very insular, they are.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Fundy stepped behind the counter as they talked, nodding to Puffy and putting away his belongings. As he reached for the apron he realised he should probably make introductions and quickly said, “Oh, uh – Puffy, this is Ranboo. He’s my buddy, in the year below me at school. Ranboo, this is Puffy – she’s one of the shop owners.”

They shook hands, a polite smile on Puffy’s face, though there was confusion in her eyes when she asked, “Buddy? Does that mean a specific thing, or did you just finally make another friend?”

“I have friends!” he protested. Niki came out of the back at that moment, so he greeted her with a hug before he continued, “Buddying is a thing where second-years can look after first-years. It’s meant to help with both school stuff and personal stuff. That’s how I met Jack, too, actually.”

“And you signed up for it?” Puffy asked flatly. “I know for a fact you don’t care about school stuff and I really don’t see how you could help others with personal stuff-”

Niki whacked her lightly on the arm. “Don’t!” She gave Ranboo a sunny smile and offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Niki! It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ranboo,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m, uh, Fundy’s buddy, in school.”

“That’s nice! If you ever need anything, you can just ask us,” she said, gesturing between herself and Puffy. “A friend of Fundy’s is always welcome around here. I’m afraid you don’t get discounts, though, sorry.”

Ranboo nodded, wringing his hands as he looked between the three of them. “That’s fine – but is it okay if I hang out here while Fundy does? I don’t want to get in the way-”

“That’s no problem at all! You can stand with Jack or sit in the café or…” Niki looked around and went into the back, returning a second later with a chair. “You can sit behind the counter with Fundy as long as you promise not to distract him from work!”

“I promise to be as undistracting as possible,” Ranboo said as he sat – he moved cautiously, as though worried someone would tell him off. “Uh, thank you.”

“Wait, you never let me sit behind the counter!” Jack protested, straightening up and staring at her. “What’s this kind of double-standard?”

“It hurts my neck to look up at him,” she said with a sheepish laugh. “If you want a seat too, I can-”

“Can I sit on the counter?”

“No.”

He sighed, sagging back. “Okay, yeah, I’ll have a seat then. As long as that’s alright, of course.”

“Of course!”

She grabbed another seat for Jack and tousled Fundy’s hair before heading into the back again. Puffy went to the front of the shop, checking over all the flowers, and Fundy leaned against the counter, keeping an eye on the door and Ranboo both.

It was only a minute before the first customer arrived. It was an old woman Fundy recognised, though he hadn’t seen her for a while, and she greeted him warmly and asked after his father before spending five minutes trying to decide what cake to buy for her granddaughter’s birthday, eventually deciding on a chocolate cake on Fundy’s recommendation.

“Give my best to your father,” she said, patting his hand as she handed over the money. “And keep the change – buy yourself something nice.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. She smiled back and waved to Jack and Ranboo before leaving, exchanging a few words with Puffy at the front of the shop.

“Who was that?” Ranboo asked, watching him work the register with a curious tilt of his head.

“I don’t know,” he said in a low voice, glancing towards the door. “I mean, I see her around a lot – she talked with my dad at the playground when I was a kid, and she’s talked to me whenever she’s seen me since – but I don’t think she’s actually told me her name? She’s nice, though.”

Ranboo hummed. “Is your father nice?”

He hesitated as Jack snorted. That was a difficult question to answer – especially since he, without thinking, had referred to Schlatt as his dad, since he was the one who’d taken Fundy to the playground as a child and who’d talked to the old woman. It was an awkward situation to set straight and his stomach twisted as he thought about explaining that to Ranboo. Even putting that aside, it didn’t seem fully accurate to describe either Schlatt or Wilbur as nice.

In the end he shrugged and asked, “What are your parents like?”

“They’re alright,” Ranboo said, turning his attention to the pastry display. “A bit strict, but that’s just par for the course, isn’t it? I think they’re disappointed I’ve not made friends yet or joined any clubs or anything, but they’re happy my grades have improved so…” His words trailed off and he turned to Jack. “Uh, what about you?”

“My parents suck,” Jack said firmly. When Ranboo made a noise of sympathy, Jack waved him off and quickly said, “No, I mean- they’re fine, it’s- it’s fine. They’re just going through a divorce without actually going through a divorce.”

“I… don’t understand?”

“They clearly hate each other’s guts,” he said, looking towards the front of the shop, “I hear them argue all the time, but they’ve just… I think they’ve got it in their heads that what’s best for me is if they stay together and pretend everything’s fine. They keep doing all these family bonding activities like skiing and- well, mostly just a lot of skiing, yeah. As if being trapped in a cramped, sweltering cabin in the middle of nowhere with shitty phone signal is going to make all the problems go away.”

“Is the skiing fun, at least?” Ranboo asked with a hopeful air.

“No.”

“Oh.” Ranboo nodded. “Well.”

“Well indeed.”

Fundy finished ringing up the customers and, as they went to sit in the café, he asked Ranboo, “You mentioned clubs earlier – are there any you were interested in?”

He was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t… think so,” he said eventually. “I liked the people-aspect and it was good for getting out of the house and being active and stuff, but… I don’t think volleyball really appealed to me on its own? And none of the clubs at this school do either, and I think just being thrust into an unfamiliar situation with a bunch of people I don’t know would be more stressful than anything at this point. Just being surrounded by first-years and second-years earlier for the buddying was terrifying!” He gave a mock-shudder, laughing a little.

Fundy drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. “What club would you join, if it existed?” he asked.

“Probably volleyball again, since I know that. Or… I might like something where I learn something new, but only if there weren’t many people, or if I knew someone in the club.” He looked up at Fundy. “Are you in a club?”

“Nope!” He waved a hand, encompassing the shop. “It would interfere with work – and that’s even assuming any club would let me join. I kind of have a reputation at school now.”

“Oh. I see.” His head dropped.

Fundy glanced at Jack before asking, “I’m assuming the you know what stuff doesn’t really count?”

“It doesn’t, no,” Ranboo said. “It’s a bit hard to make new friends in that kind of environment.” He looked over at Jack, who was pointedly looking away, and added, “I think this is the most we’ve spoken since we met.”

“Makes sense.”

Fundy looked towards the back room, his brow furrowing as he turned a thought over in his mind. A part of him was considering asking Niki if Ranboo could get a job here – assuming Ranboo would want to work here. But it could be a good chance to learn several different skills, from baking to botany, and the environment wouldn’t be too stressful. While they got a fair few customers, they were all people who knew Niki and Puffy – and Fundy now, as well – people who kept coming back here because they liked the atmosphere or the food or the people. It hadn’t taken long for Fundy’s own confidence to blossom when he started working here, as the customers had given him a lot of leeway and kind words, and he was sure they’d do the same for Ranboo.

He shook the thought off as a customer approached – the businessman, with the bouquet of roses cradled in the crook of his arm. Niki wasn’t hiring and Ranboo probably wouldn’t want to work here anyway; still, he found it lingered in the back of his mind, arising whenever a quiet moment came.

The moment that finally pushed him into asking came when Jack mentioned his birthday and he realised it would be one month until he left. One month, and then Niki and Puffy would have to cover the shop by themselves – which he was sure they could manage, as they had before he’d met them – and Ranboo would be left without a buddy. Maybe he’d still keep coming here, maybe he’d be good enough friends with Jack and Niki and Puffy to feel comfortable, but… but he remembered Ranboo’s hesitance as he’d taken the seat and recognised some of himself in the movement.

He waited until Jack left to ask Ranboo, “Would you want to work here if Niki agreed to it?”

“What- here?” Ranboo asked, sitting up. “Me? Working? What?”

“That’s what I was asking, yep. Well done.”

“But-” Ranboo looked around, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “I… I mean, you guys seem to have it under control, so-”

“That was not what I was asking.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and raised an eyebrow at Ranboo. “Would you want to work here? I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine, I just figured- I thought it might help with that whole confidence thing? I know it helped me a lot.”

He lowered his head. “I… don’t know? Being offered a job isn’t really something I expected, honestly. Um- I’d have to ask my parents?”

“I can ask Niki first,” he said. “Probably best to check if it’s even an option.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Ranboo lifted his head and stared out at the shop. “Is today… busy? For this place?”

“Pretty busy, yeah. The weekends are busier, but the rest of the week is pretty quiet.” He pushed himself up and nodded to a couple sitting in the café. “We tend to get people coming in here pretty regularly – some daily; others, like those two, weekly – so it’s pretty easy to get your head around.”

“I see.” He paused. “I… think I could manage that, then.”

“Cool!” Fundy glanced around the shop. “I’ll ask Niki when Eret comes in – they tend to come by when it’s quiet, so that should be alright.”

“Eret? Are they another customer?”

Fundy nodded, saying, “I mean, they’re not just a customer, but they are also a customer, yes. They’re the best. They use any pronouns, by the way – Eret does – so, uh, don’t get too confused if you hear people refer to them however.”

“Oh!” Ranboo sat up in his chair, head tilted curiously. “Oh, okay! Thanks for letting me know.”

He nodded again and looked towards the shop door. There’d be another flood of customers soon as people started leaving work, so he let the conversation lie.

~

“Eret!”

“Fundy!” Eret waved at him, though they stayed near the front for the moment to talk to Puffy and grab a bouquet of flowers.

“That’s Eret,” Fundy said, turning to Ranboo, though Ranboo had probably figured that out already.

“They look nice,” Ranboo said. There was something wistful in his voice as he said, “I like their skirt.”

“You should let them know!” He glanced towards Eret as he added, “They could probably tell you where they got it, if you wanted one.”

“Oh, uh- I don’t-” He quickly fell silent as Eret approached the counter.

“Hello, Fundy,” Eret said, then turning to Ranboo and asking, “And you must be Ranboo?”

“Uh, yeah!” Ranboo said, standing up from his chair. “Hi. I’m Ranboo. I- yeah, mhm. I’m great at introducing myself to people, yep.”

Eret laughed, standing straighter – Fundy realised with some amazement that Ranboo was actually taller than Eret, even with Eret wearing their platforms. “It’s nice to meet you, Ranboo,” Eret said. “You’re a friend of Fundy’s from school, right?”

“I am indeed! A buddy, you could say. Because- because of the- I’m just going to sit back down, now.” He sat quickly, the tips of his ears pink.

“Well, I hope your buddying goes well,” Eret said, wearing a kind smile. “And I look forward to seeing you around the shop, if you ever come by again.”

“Hopefully he will,” Fundy said, glancing towards Ranboo. “Speaking of, I needed to go ask Niki something – uh, shout if another customer shows up?”

“Will do.”

He gave Ranboo a reassuring smile and went through to the back. “Hey, Niki?”

“Yeah?” She looked up, pushing her hair out of her face with her wrist and leaving a streak of flour behind.

“I was talking with Ranboo earlier,” he said, realising he probably should have put some thought into how to bring this up to Niki before he started talking, “and I think it might be good for him to have a job here, with me, if- I mean, obviously it’s up to you? I don’t know if you’re hiring at the moment, so…” He trailed off.

“Did he say he wanted a job here?” she asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Kind of – he said he could manage it if you agreed, but-” He shifted his weight and took a moment to figure his words out before continuing, “He said he wanted to get out of the house more and make friends, but joining a club with a whole bunch of people he didn’t know would be terrifying – and he wanted to buddy with me because he hoped I could help him with his confidence, so I thought that if he got a job here I’d be able to help him and he could learn new things and talk with a bunch of customers, which would help with his confidence, and-” He paused again, gaze cutting away, and hesitantly said, “And, with me leaving soon, I’d like to know he’s not going to be left completely alone? And you guys were great to me – except Puffy, no offence – and… and I just think it’d be good for him, like I said.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, giving him a sunny smile. “Could you tell Puffy I want to talk with her?”

“Yep, will do.”

He left and passed along Niki’s message, taking up his spot at the till again. Though a part of him wanted to listen in on their conversation, he forced himself to focus on serving Eret.

“Was there anything else you wanted?” he asked, glancing over the flowers and the box of chocolate chip cookies.

Eret considered the display for a moment. “A tea and a slice of the sponge cake,” they said, “along with whatever you two want.”

“Ranboo?” Fundy asked.

“Oh- I’m fine!”

“You sure?”

“Mhm!”

Fundy decided against pressing the matter and just rang Eret up, preparing the tea and grabbing a drink from the fridge for himself. Ranboo watched him as he worked, fingers tapping together.

“Does Niki not let you have things for free?” he asked Fundy.

“I like to support my friends,” Eret said before Fundy could respond, putting away their wallet. “I always make sure to pay full price when I come here, whether I’m buying for me or for someone else.”

“But- I mean, if you’re friends…”

“Then that’s more reason for me to pay, not less.”

“I… Huh.”

Fundy put Eret’s tea on the stretch of counter beside the till and went to grab the cake slices – one for Eret, and one for himself – to bring over too. He broke off a forkful, wanting to focus on eating while the shop was still empty, but couldn’t keep from saying a quick, “Ranboo likes your skirt,” to Eret, grinning when Ranboo made a stifled protest.

Eret lit up. “You do? I like it too! Look, it’s got pockets!” They stepped back and put their hands in the pockets to show them off, then gathered the fabric to swirl it around their legs. “And it’s so swishy! Lots of fun to walk around in.”

“It- yeah, it looks really nice,” Ranboo said hesitantly. “Where did you get it?”

“I got it a few years ago from a charity shop,” they said, leaning against the counter again. “I think I have a few others that are similar – do you want one of them?”

“No, I’m alright!”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” Eret said with a warm smile. “I have a habit of buying literally anything that looks pretty and then I just have far too many clothes and don’t end up wearing half my wardrobe. I’d be happy to pass some items on to a better home.”

Ranboo nodded, sinking back in his seat. “I’ll- I’ll keep that in mind.”

They talked for another ten minutes, Eret drawing Ranboo out of his shell as the conversation continued. By the end, there was almost no trace of nervousness in Ranboo’s words and laughter, though he kept to his seat and occasionally physically pulled away from them. Eret even managed to convince Ranboo to take one of the cookies, though Ranboo said he wouldn’t be eating it here, what with his mask and all.

And then Puffy came out of the back, eyes tight. “Fundy,” she said, “before you leave today, Niki and I need to discuss something with you.”

“Oh.” He tried to force a smile. “Uh, nothing bad, I hope?”

“You’re not getting fired, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She then turned to Ranboo and added, “Also we’ve agreed to offer you a position here, assuming you want it and are able to pass what I assure you is an extremely un-rigorous interview.” She jerked a thumb at Fundy, grinning. “I mean, if this schmuck can get a place here, I’m sure you’ll have no problems!”

“Wait, really?” Ranboo stared up at her. He didn’t move, even as Eret cheered and Fundy congratulated him, beaming. “I- just like that?”

“Yep! Come on, we can talk while I check on the flowers.” And she rounded the counter, Ranboo at her heel, to return to the front of the shop.

~

Ranboo ended up passing the interview – to no one’s surprise – and Niki offered to bake him a cake of his choice to celebrate. He had to refuse for time being as his parents would be expecting him back soon, so she promised to make him one for his first shift. As he still had to run it by his parents, he agreed to at least stop by the next day to let them know how it went and, if they did agree, Niki said that he could have his first shift that very day.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Ranboo said, settling his bag, “Fundy – my mother said I should invite you and your parents around for Sunday dinner. They wanted to meet who I buddied with, so- yeah. Is that alright?”

“Can I… not bring my dad?” he asked with a grimace. He couldn’t help but glance at the adults, all three of whom were wearing their ‘someone just mentioned Wilbur’ faces.

“Will he be busy?”

“Yeah, very busy.”

“No worries! You and your mother, then, right?”

He hesitated before quickly saying, “Uh, yeah! Yeah, me and my mum, yep! Looking forward to it!” He forced a smile and gave Ranboo a thumbs up.

“Great!” He tilted his head, eyes squinting in a smile again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once he left, Fundy stared at the door for several seconds, feeling the others watch him.

“You don’t have a mother,” Puffy was the one to point out. “Right?”

He turned to give her a blank smile. “Yep!”

“What the fuck are you going to do?”

“I… don’t actually know yet,” he admitted, glancing away, “but- but it wasn’t like I could invite Wilbur, and Phil would just be all ‘I’m not your father, mate’, and Schlatt would… probably be even worse than Wil, so-”

“So you just agreed without considering the consequences,” she said, her tone disapproving. She looked over at Niki. “Having second thoughts yet?”

Niki shook her head, busying herself with gathering dirty plates from the café. “Could you ask Kristin to come to the meal?” she said to Fundy.

“She’s gone back to Techno’s,” he said, “and isn’t coming back until my birthday – assuming she manages to get time off for it.”

“Is there anyone else you could ask?”

He gestured towards her and the other two. “You guys are kind of the only other decent adults I know?” It was hard to admit – not because it wasn’t true, but because he was implicitly asking one of them to pretend to be his parent, and he didn’t want to make things weird.

To his relief, Niki just glanced at Puffy and said, “We’ll be busy with the shop, I’m afraid – Eret, could you…?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” Eret said. “If that’s alright with you, Fundy?”

His shoulders untensed and he gave Eret a smile. “That’d be great, actually. Thanks.”

“Of course,” they said, smile softening.

“And what’s Ranboo going to think?” Puffy asked. “You didn’t introduce Eret as your mother when they met – he’s going to have questions.”

“I can handle that,” Fundy said, waving her off.

Before he could say anything else, Niki placed the gathered plates down and, casting her gaze over the shop, said, “Now that we have a moment – Fundy, Puffy and I needed to discuss shop matters with you.”

“Oh, right.” He nodded and folded his hands behind his back, trying to push aside his nerves. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Let me just change the sign,” she said, heading to the door.

“I should probably go, actually,” Eret said, patting Fundy’s shoulder and following Niki. “We can talk more about the meal tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good!”

They stepped out and Niki flipped the sign over to say that they were on a break. With that done, she picked up the plates again and went through to the back, Fundy and Puffy following behind as she spoke.

“First of all,” she said, “we were thinking of hiring someone else too. We figured it might help Ranboo settle in a bit better if he’s not the only newbie. Plus, it’d be nice for me and Puffy to get a bit more free time, and I’m sure you have other classmates who’d like a bit of pocket money.”

“Makes sense,” he said.

“We’ll put a flyer or something up tomorrow, I think – unless you can think of anyone?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

“No one comes to mind.”

“Okay, we’ll do the flyer then.” She placed the plates by the sink and turned to face him fully, gaze fixed on his face. “Secondly, how would you feel about being in charge of the front of the shop when the two new starters are working?”

“Wha- me?”

“You!”

“But… really?”

“Really!”

He shook his head and stepped back – he must be mishearing something. “No, but- but what are you actually saying, though?”

“It’s simple,” Niki said. “You’d be taking on a kind of managerial role – Puffy and I will be handling the training, of course, but once that’s out of the way, you’d handle the front of the shop and the new starters. They’d go to you with any questions or problems they have, and you can always come to me and Puffy if it’s something you can’t handle. And you’d be paid more too.”

“And you agreed to this?” he said to Puffy, who’d been shockingly quiet, a sour twist to her mouth.

“Under great duress,” she said. “I think my specific words were ‘I’d rather not leave the shop in the hands of an angst-riddled teen on a daily basis’ and ‘if this blows up in our faces, I will be saying I told you so’.”

“So…?”

“I think you can handle it,” Niki said firmly, which Fundy privately thought was giving him too much credit. “You’ve been watching us and helping out around the shop for years, this really isn’t that big of a leap in terms of responsibilities! I mean, it’s basically just your current job combined with the buddying when you think about it.”

He looked between the two of them, the ground unsteady beneath his feet. “Seriously, though,” he said. “You can’t seriously be offering me- responsibility!”

“Hey, I’m with you there,” Puffy said. “I think you’re going to fuck it up, like you fuck everything up, and we’ll be left having to clean up after your mess.”

Even though he’d been having similar thoughts, he couldn’t deny that it hurt to hear Puffy voice them. He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I disagree,” Niki said.

“Don’t tell me he’s mature for his age,” Puffy said quickly, “because he really isn’t.”

“I wasn’t.” Niki turned away and, after a moment, said, “From what I’ve seen, Fundy, Wil’s been treating you like a child. And… you seem to hate that so much that you’re just running off the instant you become legally an adult, and I can’t imagine that going straight from one to the other is going to end well! If you are going to ‘fuck up’, I’d rather you do it here, where we can clean up after your mess. Okay?”

He shrugged and made himself lift his gaze to meet Niki’s. “But I don’t want to fuck things up for you,” he admitted.

“I know, Fundy,” she said, earnest. “And if you don’t, then I think we’ll all feel better about you running off to the other side of the country. I-” She paused, glancing at Puffy. “I just… worry about you. Going somewhere entirely new, where no one knows you or cares about you – even if it’s better than whatever you’re leaving behind, it’s far from easy.”

He looked away again, not knowing what to say. To his surprise, Puffy sighed and said, “Look, I- I get where you’re coming from, but surely there’s a better way to go about this?”

“Fundy suggested Ranboo get a job here because he wanted to help him gain new skills and develop his confidence,” Niki said. “He came up with the idea based on what he thought would be best for Ranboo – like I said, he’s already basically filling the role of manager by being Ranboo’s buddy. And this seems to be something he cares about!”

“But-”

“I know he cares about the shop, Puffy, and he knows it as well as you or I do. You heard him say it – he would never willingly do something hurtful. Not here, not to us.”

Puffy sighed again and stepped back, holding her hands up. “Well, I already agreed,” she said. “And you’re obviously not going to change your mind, so- yeah.”

“Fundy?”

He glanced up at her. “Can I think about it?” Her faith in him was humbling and he was touched by it, but he still just felt deeply unqualified for what she was suggesting.

“Yes, of course.” She smiled at him. “Take as much time as you need, Fundy.”

“Thanks,” he said, and he returned her smile.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Fundy went to work early – Ranboo had texted him last night saying that his parents had been fine with him taking the job, so he’d be in at noon for his first shift, as agreed. Meanwhile, Fundy was here mere moments after it had opened, slipping in with the first flood of customers.

He got some breakfast and ate it in the café to pass the time until his shift. When he’d approached the counter, Niki had taken a moment to ask whether he’d thought about her offer yet. His answer, that he was still thinking about it, was accepted without question, though she did offer to lend an ear if he wanted someone to talk to.

Despite everything, though, he found that the person he most wanted to talk to was Puffy. It was her who’d put a voice to his gut-reaction refusal, echoing his thoughts that this just wasn’t something he could do, that he’d fuck up his one refuge – and yet, when it had come down to it, Puffy had ultimately offered only minor resistance. He wondered what her reason had been for backing down. He wondered whether it was something that would help him come to a decision.

Before long there came a quiet moment where Puffy went to look over the flowers. Fundy steeled himself, then stood to make his approach.

“What do you want?” she asked, giving him a brief glance. Her tone was brisk, her attention clearly more on the flowers than him.

“I wanted to ask why you agreed with Niki yesterday,” he said. “About the whole managing thing.”

“I already said, didn’t I?” She inspected one of the flowers, eyes narrowed in concentration. “She clearly wasn’t going to budge on it,” she continued. “I’ve learned how to pick my battles.”

He twisted his fingers in the cuff of his sleeve. “But… you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t.”

He frowned to himself, watching Puffy out of the corner of his eye. It still didn’t make sense to him. “Are you really fine with letting me, quote-unquote, fuck everything up just because you don’t think you can talk Niki around?”

With a sharp exhale, she set the watering can down and met his gaze. “It’s not that I don’t think I can talk Niki around,” she said, “more that this is clearly something that matters a lot to her – for some reason, you specifically are clearly someone who matters a lot to her – so…” She shrugged, waving her hand like she was swatting at a fly. “I don’t think it’s worth pointing out the obvious flaws in leaving you in charge of the shop. It’s just better to support her. And to be ready to step in when something does go wrong.”

He'd kind of hoped Puffy would be able to alleviate his worries. He should have known better.

“Great,” he said, smoothing his sleeve and turning away. “Thanks. Helps a lot.”

“I think you need to be more mature.”

She spoke abruptly and he froze, struggling to make sense of why she’d spoken. After a moment, he looked back at her; she was giving him a considering frown, her fingers drumming against the stand.

“Huh?”

“That’s the main thing stopping me from going along with it,” she said. “There’s a difference between being responsible and having responsibilities, and piling on the latter without any of the former is a recipe for disaster.”

“But I’m plenty mature here!” he said, turning to face her fully and gesturing towards the shop.

“And that’s the thing,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she pointed a finger at him. “The rest of the world doesn’t just cease to exist when you come in here, and how you act outside of it isn’t wiped away either. It seems like every single time I see you, something else has happened that’s ‘totally not your fault’ and you go on and on about how it’s fine because it’d never happen here – but how long before it does?” She returned her gaze to the flowers as she continued, “Removing our supervision over you and giving you two newbies to look after just makes those chances worse. I mean, it was only, like, a week ago that you were yelling at Jack while he was sick, and just because you two have made up now doesn’t mean I believe you won’t do the same to Ranboo.”

He gritted his teeth and looked away. “I wouldn’t-”

“I believed you wouldn’t to Jack, but you keep finding new ways to lower my expectations.” She moved a pot into a better position before glancing back up at him. “Like I said, I think you need to be more mature. Like-”

“Don’t say Ranboo,” he said quickly, because Ranboo’s so-called maturity was nothing but fear dressed up in a coat of politeness. He remembered being praised by adults for much the same behaviour when he first started school.

Puffy snorted and shook her head. “Fuck no, I wasn’t going to say Ranboo!” she said. “No, I was actually going to say like HBomb.”

He stared at her blankly, a pit opening up in his stomach. “You… don’t think Ranboo’s mature?”

“Of course not!” she said. “He’s just quiet, the kind of anxious people-pleaser that doesn’t want to cause trouble, and that gets taken for maturity by all the adults who’re used to children being loud and annoying and nothing more.”

A laugh bubbled out of him and he shook his head. He still couldn’t quite believe his ears.

He could see her watching him in his periphery. “What?” she asked, sounding faintly suspicious.

“It’s just funny, is all.” He shook his head again and left. It was nearly time for his shift.

The warm smile Niki gave to customers turned into a concerned look as he approached the counter. “Were you and Puffy arguing again?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted. “I was just wondering why she’d agreed to the whole,” he waved his hand through the air, “the offer yesterday. Thought I’d get something different than I did.”

She frowned, brow creasing. “What did she say?”

“Nothing important,” he said, not wanting to worry Niki further.

“You seem upset, though.”

“Do I?” He didn’t even feel upset, just vaguely numb. “Nah, I- I’m fine. Promise.”

“If you want to talk…?”

“Maybe later.”

She nodded and stepped back, still worried. “You know where to find me,” she said.

He gave her a smile, though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “I do.”

As she went through to the back, Fundy took up his spot at the register and tried to drag his focus back to the shop.

~

He took a break after a couple of hours, letting Puffy take the register and disappearing into the back before she could say anything. Initially, he wasn’t planning on saying anything to Niki, instead wanting to just find a quiet spot to sit and wait for his break to end, but with nothing to do, the emptiness in his mind finally split and he was left with his rioting thoughts.

All this time he’d assumed Puffy had just been taking him at face value – that she had been doing so with all the kids, believing HBomb and Jack and now Ranboo to be generally good because they were always on their best behaviour around the shop, and him to be nothing more than a troublemaker because he had often come here looking for a place to hide out. And yet she’d been able to recognise Ranboo’s behaviour for the defence mechanism it was and still just turned a blind eye to Fundy, even though he’d been much like Ranboo when they’d first met. He couldn’t remember her ever treating him like the others. The question he kept coming back to was simple: why was he different?

His gaze landed on Niki, who was currently cutting a cake into slices. Surely she’d know the answer. She knew Puffy better than anyone besides Puffy herself, and talking to Puffy was likely to make him feel worse. It felt like a bad question to ask though, edging dangerously close to asking the limits of Niki’s own kindness – he’d tried his best to not address Puffy’s disdain for him, or at least minimising it, in the hopes of avoiding some situation where Niki would have to choose between him and Puffy to keep the peace in the shop. He knew she’d choose Puffy, so better to sidestep the question entirely.

But with her offer still hanging unresolved and now his perception of Puffy completely shifted, he needed an answer. Worst came to worst, he was sure he could manage his last month without the shop. Or, well, he hoped he could.

He sat up straight in his chair and, steeling himself, asked Niki, “Why doesn’t Puffy like me?”

“Hm?” Niki looked up, lowering her knife. “Oh, I don’t think she doesn’t, I-”

“She said she didn’t. Kinda.” He shrugged, staring down at his hands as he tried to figure out how to explain. “Or, immature, mostly. But, I mean, Ranboo’s literally two years younger than me, so if she just doesn’t want ‘immature’ people working in the shop, I don’t get why she’d be okay with giving him a job – she even said she didn’t think he was mature, so…”

“Oh.” She wiped the knife clean and put it down, a thoughtful frown on her face. After a few moments she spoke, her voice slow and even, as though she didn’t say the words aloud. “Probably because you’re Wil’s son.”

“What?” He stared at her. The words struck an odd chord in his chest – hearing Niki talk about Wil always felt odd.

“She’s biased against him.”

“So am I!”

She shrugged, wearing a smile that was sadder than her frowns. “She’s worried about you following in his footsteps, I guess. And being biased against someone isn’t always enough to stop that.”

“But…” He didn’t know what to say; his stomach was twisting.

Niki gave a small nod. “Yeah, it’s not fair. But she’s- I mean, she wasn’t there when Wil-” She paused, gaze slipping away. “When Wil did what he did. But we met soon after that.” She sighed, hands curling against the table, and said, “It was one of the darkest times in my life. I’m really thankful I had Eret and Puffy – and I guess Puffy doesn’t want to risk that happening again.”

“But I’m not him,” Fundy said, his throat tight.

“I know.” She met his gaze unwaveringly. “I know. I promise, I’ll talk to her.”

He watched her for a moment, the question he always wanted to ask sitting at the tip of his tongue. Despite himself, he asked it: “What did Wil do? What happened?”

“He left,” she said shortly. She looked back at the cake, picked the knife up, and continued cutting it. “He did a lot of other things too, but the worst thing was that he just left, and he didn’t care about who he left behind.”

“I’m sorry-”

“There’s a difference between him abandoning me when I was in a bad place and you leaving to get out of a bad place.” She took a breath before looking at him again, gaze softening as she added, “Actually, what I hold against Wil now is him being a bad father to you.”

“He’s not…” He looked away, the words sticking in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For making you hate Wil.”

She shook her head, laughing slightly. “That’s nothing you need to apologise for. I’m happy to have you in my life, Fundy. I’m especially glad this shop is somewhere you feel safe. And I promise,” she said, giving him a smile, “I’ll talk to Puffy.”

“Thanks,” he said. He wanted to thank her for far more than a simple promise – for choosing him over Puffy in some small way, for looking at him and not seeing his father, for every scrap of kindness she’d ever offered – but he couldn’t find the words. He hoped she understood anyway.

“Of course, Fundy.” She cut the last of the cake and started arranging it on the display platter. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

He scuffed his foot against the ground, muddling through the rest of his thoughts. After a moment he asked, “Do you really think I could handle it?”

“Yep,” she said immediately. “But even if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world. Puffy and I have fucked up often enough to know that, at least.”

“As if you’ve ever fucked up,” he joked, trying to bring some sense of normalcy back to the conversation.

“Of course I have!” she said with a grin. “Just last night I fell asleep while watching a little bonfire in the back garden, and next thing I know,” she swept her hands up and made a whooshing noise, “Puffy’s favourite rosebushes were on fire!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really!” She let her hands drop as she laughed, and just like that, the mood felt lighter.

It didn’t take long for them to lapse into a comfortable silence. Niki continued fixing up the food and the seconds of Fundy’s break ticked by. He still had a lot on his mind, but he found the thoughts a lot easier to deal with, their edges dulled, now that he’d talked to Niki.

When it came time for him to head out again, he lingered for a moment to say, “I think I’d be willing to give it a go. Just, like… as a test, or something.”

Niki beamed at him. “That’s great, Fundy! Once Ranboo’s trained, shall we see about trying it out for the day?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“I’ll let Puffy know,” she said, gathering the display platters to bring out with her. Maybe she sensed his discomfort, because she continued, “Trust me, Fundy, it’s going to be fine. I’ll prove you both wrong.”

“Kinda want to fuck it up just to spite you now,” he said, keeping his voice low so that Puffy couldn’t overhear.

She grinned at him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Or you could try your best to do well to spite Puffy!”

“What’s this about spiting me?” Puffy asked as they came through.

“Nothing, nothing!”

Puffy hummed, shooting Fundy a suspicious look. “You better not be trying to turn my wife against me, Fundip.”

“She’s trying to turn me against you, if anything,” Fundy said as he took the empty dishes out of the display to help Niki. “I’m innocent in this!”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not believing him.

Niki dusted her hands off, giving the display one last look-over, before turning to Puffy and saying, “By the way, we’re going to be doing a test run of Fundy as manager this afternoon, once Ranboo’s been trained up. That okay with you?”

“I’m sure I’ll live.”

“I’m glad!” Niki said, wearing a bright smile. “I like you living.”

Puffy sighed and butted her head against Niki’s gently, annoyance melting away. “You’re too fucking sweet, really.”

Niki laughed and, despite the fact that some part of Fundy still ached when he thought of Puffy’s words earlier, he was able to smile as he took his place at the register again. He could even tell himself that this wouldn’t be so bad without it feeling like a complete lie. He glanced back at Niki, hoping they’d both get proven right.

~

When Ranboo arrived, the shop was already in the full swing of its lunch rush. Niki was the one to show him around and start training him while Puffy handled the till and Fundy the café, and when it calmed down a bit, Fundy took over the till again and Niki restocked as Puffy finished showing Ranboo the ropes. Fundy himself didn’t get a chance to say more than ‘hi’ to the guy until he was already in his apron and behind the counter.

“Busy day, huh?” Ranboo said, inclining his head towards the shop.

“Weekends always are,” Fundy said. “You’re kinda getting thrown in at the deep end here, sorry about that.”

“Oh, no, it- it’s fine! You guys seem to have a very good, uh… a good system? Even one person down you were like a well-oiled machine!” Ranboo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, and added, “I hope I don’t mess that up too much!”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He brushed himself down and glanced over the customers. “We’re going to be entering a lull now, thankfully,” he said. “I think Eret will probably be coming by soon, so, as a reference, it’ll be about as busy as it was yesterday when they were around?”

“Okay, that’s good to know.”

Niki approached then, glancing over the shelves with a slight frown before focusing on him and Ranboo. “How are you guys doing?” she asked with a warm smile.

“Great!” Ranboo gave her a thumbs up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Fundy said.

“Glad to hear it! Now, I’m just going to finish up restocking and then Puffy and I are heading into the back,” she said, turning to Ranboo. “That means Fundy’s going to be in charge for the afternoon. He’ll tell you what to do, and if you have any questions or problems, you let him know. But, like I said, we’ll just be in the back, so if either of you really do need us, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Ranboo said, bobbing his head. “Yeah, no worries at all!”

“Fundy?” She turned towards him now. “That sound alright with you?”

It was a bit late to back out, so he nodded and gave her the most confident grin he could muster. “Yep!”

Her grin brightened and she got back to work. Ranboo stepped closer and rapped his knuckles against the counter, and Fundy thought he could see Ranboo watching him out of the corner of his eye, gaze slipping through the gap between sunglasses and face.

“So…” Ranboo said slowly. “Uh, what do you want me to do, boss?”

Fundy pulled a face. “Don’t call me ‘boss’, first of all,” he said. “Then, uh…” He looked over the shop, its customers, its wares – what the fuck was he meant to do now? “Well,” he said, hoping Ranboo hadn’t noticed his hesitation, “what have you been taught so far?”

“Flowers get checked every hour,” Ranboo said, pointing towards the front of the shop. “Specific ones may need to be watered or moved or swapped out with flowers from the back – Puffy said I could shadow her at some point to get a better idea of how that works. The stock tends to be handled by Niki, but for the pre-packaged stuff, if it’s running out, that can be grabbed from the back too. The café tables get cleared when the customer leaves, with the dirty dishes taken through to the back to be washed up and the table wiped down. Ordering for both the shop and the café all happens at this till. There’s a cheat-sheet under the till for what things cost. Also,” he pointed at the ice cream, “that exists, but probably won’t be asked for until it gets warmer.”

“Nah, some people ask for it,” Fundy said, “but if that happens, just grab me and I’ll show you how it works – no point showing you now when you’ll probably forget.”

“True, I probably will forget.”

He considered everything Ranboo had said before nodding to himself, coming to a decision. “You can shadow me for the afternoon on the till, then,” he said. “I mean, you already would have seen a lot of this yesterday, but it’d be a good refresher. You can also handle clearing the café, but you don’t need to worry about the washing up since Niki usually handles that – is that alright?”

“Should be alright, yep.”

He nodded again and turned to Ranboo. “Any questions, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay.” Ranboo nodded too.

“Great.” He fished the ‘cheat-sheet’ – aka the menu – out from under the counter and passed it over. “For reference, when people are ordering.”

“Oh, great!”

With another glance towards the shop, which was still quiet, he stepped back for a moment to catch Puffy as she was about to leave. “About the flowers-”

“I’ll still be handling those this afternoon,” she said. “Ranboo can shadow me when I do, if he wants.”

“Okay, that’s good to know,” he said, letting go of her sleeve.

“Was that all?”

“Yeah, no, that- yeah, that was all.” He waved her off and returned to the register.

The early afternoon passed surprisingly well. A handful of customers that were easy to deal with came through, all of them wishing Ranboo luck in his new role. It was nice to see Ranboo gradually relax, his shoulders untensing and his fingers not gripping quite so tight to the menu. He was also diligent in clearing the café and, when Puffy invited him to look over the flowers with her, Fundy could see him asking her a million questions about all the different flowers – questions she answered with a smile and endless patience, which still kind of hurt. It was easier to ignore in the face of Ranboo’s obvious interest, though.

Not long later, a teen entered the shop – someone Fundy thought he recognised from his year, though he didn’t know their name. They approached the counter and gave him a tight smile, eyes darting between him, Ranboo, and Eret, the latter of whom had been at the shop for almost an hour now, chatting with the two of them.

“Can I help you?” Fundy asked, gaze dropping to the neatly folded paper in their hands – he could probably guess what they were here for.

They looked between the three of them again before asking, “I wanted to apply for the vacancy here?”

“Yep, that’s fine, let me just-” He glanced at Ranboo, figuring it was probably best not to just abandon him on the till. “Uh, Ranboo, could you let Niki know?”

“Will do,” he said, heading through to the back. It was only a moment before he returned with Niki.

“Hi! You’re here for the vacancy?” she asked, rounding the counter.

“Yeah!” They held the paper out with a polite smile. “Here’s my CV – uh, the flyer didn’t say anything about a cover letter, but I could get one if you needed it?”

“No, that’s fine!” She unfolded the CV and gave it a quick scan before refolding it. “Hannah, is it? Would you be available for an interview now?”

“Wha-” Their smile froze. “Uh- Yes! Definitely! How long is it likely to take?”

“Not long, but if you’d rather wait-”

“No, I’m available now!” they said quickly, wiping their hands on their jeans.

Niki gave them an assessing look before shrugging. “Okay, I was just in the middle of baking, so we can talk in the back,” she said, beckoning Hannah to follow her through. “Do you want a drink or anything?”

“Maybe water, if that’s alright?”

“No worries – Ranboo, could you handle that?”

“Absolutely!” he said quickly.

“Great, just bring it through,” Niki said, giving him a grateful smile.

Once the door closed, Ranboo turned to Fundy and asked, “Okay, when she says water, is that, like, bottled? Or tap?”

“Tap,” Fundy said, pointing at where the clean glasses and the tap in question were.

“Oh, okay, I can manage that!” He gave Fundy a smile before going to do so.

~

Hannah left after a while, and Niki came back through to let them know she’d passed the interview and would be having her first shift tomorrow, as they hadn’t wanted to overwhelm everybody with two new starters in one day, she said. Apparently Hannah had been specifically interested in the flowers, so it would be likely that she’d default to handling those while Ranboo and Fundy dealt with the shop and café, though there was certainly room for everybody to be involved with everything. Hannah would only be working in the afternoons on weekends, much like Ranboo, so should help to take some of the strain off his shifts.

And then the end of the shift rolled around, and Puffy took the register as Ranboo and Fundy packed up. Fundy said bye to Ranboo before going to quickly talk with Niki, letting her know that it hadn’t really been that bad and he’d be up for trying it out tomorrow too, if that was alright, and she agreed with what Fundy thought was a hint of pride in her smile. He felt warmed by that smile as he stepped back through to the front of the shop – where he noticed Tommy at the counter, arguing with Puffy.

“No, but I’m telling you,” he was saying, “I’m friends with Ranboo, I am!”

“I cannot tell you where an employee is,” she said firmly. “That’s just the rules.”

“But-”

“What’s going on here?” Fundy asked, tugging the sleeves over his hands.

“Fundy!” Tommy lit up, leaning half-over the counter to try and reach for him. “Fundy, where’s Ranboo and Tubbo?”

“Tubbo?” He hadn’t seen Tubbo since that morning.

Tommy slumped, face falling. “They’re not here?”

“No.” He hesitated, glancing towards Puffy, before adding, “I think Ranboo’s left already.”

“Bollocks.” He pushed himself back and gathered a mass of bags from around his feet, trying to wrangle them so he could use his phone too. Fundy followed him out of the shop, wondering what the hell was going on.

Outside, Tommy walked up to the curb and dumped his bags on the ground again before turning his attention solely to his phone with a deep scowl. Fundy probably could just walk on and Tommy wouldn’t pay him any attention.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked, stepping out of the way of people walking by.

Tommy shot him a glare, but it was full of frustration that wasn’t directed at Fundy. “We – me and Tubbo – we heard about big man Ranboo getting a job here, and Tubbo wanted to come and- and celebrate his first day or whatever, but now they’re both gone,” he said, with no small amount of disgust. “And now Tubbo’s not answering his fucking phone, so I don’t even know where they’ve gone, and-” He cut himself off to take a deep breath, though it didn’t seem to improve his mood at all.

“What were you guys doing?”

“Just shopping,” he said, kicking one of the bags by his feet. “I needed more fabric for shirts and- and Tubbo just came along to see Ranboo, but I wasn’t even that far behind him! I just- there was a sale, right? At the fabric shop down there?” He pointed back towards the main street and Fundy nodded, knowing the shop he was probably referring to. “Well, I stopped to see if they had anything red,” Tommy continued, “and they did, but it felt well weird, like, texturally, so I didn’t buy it, but I just- I got delayed slightly – only slightly! – and now!” He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “And now I gotta walk all the way home while carrying all this and- and fucking Tubbo and fucking Ranboo are off doing God knows what and-”

“Hold on,” Fundy said, cutting him off before this could become a full-blown rant. He searched through his pockets and pulled out a handful of loose coins, quickly counting them. “Okay,” he said, “I do have enough for a single – here.” He held them out towards Tommy, who stared at him in bewilderment.

“Eh?”

“For the bus.” He rattled the coins. “To make getting home easier. We’ve got to go quick, though, ‘cause the bus’ll be at the stop in, like, 2 minutes, and if we miss it we’ve got to wait 25.”

Tommy’s mouth snapped shut and he took the coins silently, though the confusion never quite left his gaze. When he bent to gather the bags, Fundy offered one of his hands and Tommy, still confused, gave him two of the bags. Fundy led the way to the bus stop, letting the silence lie – it was almost peaceful, which was odd considering his companion.

They got on the bus and found some seats, and Fundy wasn’t really surprised when Tommy sat next to him – he was probably better than sitting next to a stranger, and he still had two of Tommy’s bags, after all – but what did surprise him was that, when Tommy pulled out his phone and earbuds, he offered an earbud to Fundy. For a moment, he just stared at it, not quite understanding why Tommy was holding it out, but when Tommy waved it towards him, eyes tight, he quickly pushed all that aside and slipped it into his ear. The tune Tommy was playing was something bright and instrumental, something that helped quieten the thoughts in Fundy’s head, and he relaxed into his seat as they made their way home.

The strange peace lasted as they got off the bus and carried the bags back to the house. It was empty inside, which surprised Fundy.

“Where’s the old guys?” he asked, setting Tommy’s bags down near the stairs.

“Wil found out about some art exhibition,” Tommy said, tapping at his phone. “He said it’d be great to spend some time away from the gremlins and Dadza said he wanted to go too. I think they said they’d be out all day.” He paused, glancing up at Fundy. “S’gonna be boring, though, innit? If you’ve seen one art, you’ve seen ‘em all – that’s what I always say.”

“Yeah, I’m with you there,” Fundy said, rolling his eyes. Trips to museums and art exhibitions had been the worst when he was younger, even if they’d been a chance to get out of the house. They’d been so quiet and there’d been nowhere to sit and people had glared at him when he’d run around – at least Tommy had run with him, uncaring of the attention they drew.

Tommy nodded and returned his attention to his phone and, a second later, music came blaring out of it, sounding somehow both too quiet and too loud coming from the speaker instead of the earbuds. He tossed the phone towards the couch and crouched to root through the bags.

“I’m making a new shirt,” he said, his tone casual – a kind of forced casual tone he didn’t think he’d ever heard Tommy use before. “I’ve been trying to make a pattern that’d let my wings pop through but wouldn’t, like, be weird as just a shirt for me to wear?”

“I see,” Fundy said, rocking onto the balls of his feet. Why was Tommy telling him that?

“You might be able to help, actually,” he said, and he looked back at Fundy again. His expression was cautiously hopeful, which confused Fundy further. “You made some of your own clothes, right? I’m mostly used to doing alterations – I mean, I have made things, but mostly just basic shirts and, like, this is a bit different and- I mean, I’m fine, I can manage it, but- I don’t know, if you just had any advice or- or anything. Maybe.”

Fundy didn’t think Tommy had actually asked anything, but there was still something expectant in the air. He sank back down, feet resting flat on the floor, and said, “I mean, I don’t think I’ll be much help? I’ve not done anything like this before either. I mean, I don’t have wings.”

Tommy huffed and turned back to the bags, and Fundy felt like he’d said something wrong. “Forget it.”

He scoured his brain for anything to say – any kind of olive branch to offer – and asked the first thing that popped into his head. “Have you considered a halter top?”

“A what?” Tommy asked, turning to stare at him again.

Fundy pulled out his phone – he’d apparently gotten a text from Dream at some point, and he made a mental note to check that soon – and he went to sit on the floor by Tommy, pulling up a picture of a halter top to show to him. “See? It leaves the shoulder blades bare, so- I mean, I’m assuming your wings pop out there? I don’t actually know. And I guess any kind of backless top would work, really. But you could put a jacket on over it if you were cold or something, and that’d be pretty easy to take off if you wanted to go all wing mode.”

Tommy took his phone and scrolled through the different images, frowning to himself. “But, I mean… isn’t it a bit girly?” he asked.

“Clothes don’t have gender. That’s what Eret says, anyway.”

There was still a deep wrinkle in Tommy’s brow as he handed the phone back. “Yeah, but Eret sucks.”

“You’ve never actually talked to Eret.”

“Wilbur says he sucks.”

Fundy sighed and put his phone away. This had backfired. “Well, the jacket would hide what kind of shirt it was, so… I don’t know. It was just an idea.”

Tommy fiddled with the edge of the bag, not meeting Fundy’s gaze. After a moment he asked, “Do you have a pattern?”

He blinked. “No. But- but I could probably find one?”

“I think it’d be worth trying,” Tommy said, pulling out some of the fabric and rubbing it between his fingers. “If it does look too girly, I can just give it to charity or something, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Let me see what I can find.”

He nodded and continued examining the fabrics, and Fundy settled into a cross-legged position as he looked it up. When he found something suitable, Tommy ran upstairs to get some pattern paper and all his sewing supplies, and Fundy let him work on translating the small drawing into something usable. As soon as his phone was free again, he took it and went up to his own room to check Dream’s message. The music from Tommy’s phone was muffled up here, but he could still hear it.

Dream: guess who’s free this afternoon? ;)
Dream: when do you get off work?

His stomach flipped – he couldn’t deny that he wanted to go on another date with Dream, but this situation with Tommy made him hesitate.

It was always weird being alone with Tommy. Generally, he tended to ignore Fundy or, if he’d decided that Fundy had wronged him recently, he’d try and get back at him. He could count the number of times they’d actually gotten along on one hand – and, if he stayed, it seemed like he’d be adding one, because the combination of no one else being around and it not being Fundy who’d stolen their attention had made for a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. And he already had plans with Dream next week, to be fair. He didn’t know when this peace with Tommy would shatter, nor if they’d ever regain it.

His mind made up, he responded.

Fundy: busy rn, sorry <3
Fundy: i’ll let you know if i’m free later?
Dream: np! <3

He breathed a sigh of relief before grabbing some items that needed mending and heading downstairs again. Tommy even grinned at Fundy when he got back. He didn’t think Tommy had ever been happy to see him before.

Fundy sat on the couch as he got on with his mending, while Tommy spread himself out across the entire floor, alternating between working on the halter top pattern and cutting out fabric for another pattern. The music filled the silence – and it was otherwise silent, with Tommy wholly absorbed in his tasks. It only broke when Tommy decided to take a break and came to sit beside Fundy, stretching out his arms with a wince.

“So…” Tommy said with the air of someone who had no idea what to talk about, but who felt they really should talk about something. “Uh, what’s it like having a job?”

“It’s nice,” he said, keeping his gaze on what he was doing. He thought he must have had a growth spurt over the summer, because all of his trousers had needed the hems dropped. “I mean, I think it’s because of Niki that I like it-”

“Ooo, have a crush do you?”

He cursed as he stabbed his finger with the needle, giving Tommy a withering look as he set his work aside. “No!” Niki was- Niki was like a sister to him, he thought. A cool older sister that looked out for him in the way older sisters should. He pulled a face as Tommy wiggled his eyebrows, shoving him away. “No, you- stop that! That’s just gross!”

“Was she the one on the till?” Tommy asked, rolling his neck out. “‘Cause she was pretty.”

“No, that was Puffy on the till,” he said. “Her wife.”

“Oh!” Tommy blinked. “Uh, good for her! Very pretty wife, honestly, very-”

“Please stop talking about this,” Fundy said, his voice slipping into a whine. “Please, I- I beg you, just stop.”

He laughed awkwardly, popping his knuckles, before abruptly asking, “So, like, why don’t you want to be home-schooled?”

“You really do hate me, don’t you?” Couldn’t Tommy think of anything to talk about that wasn’t either uncomfortable or upsetting?

“No, I’m being serious!” Tommy said, sitting bolt upright and staring at Fundy. “I don’t get you! I mean, you get fucking rewarded for breaking the rules, and then you- you-”

“It’s not a reward-”

“Yes it is! I’d do anything to not go to school. Literally everyone would.” He gave Fundy a puzzled frown, eyes darting between Fundy’s own. “You really do hate this family, don’t you?”

So much for a nice afternoon. “I hate this house,” he said, skirting around the question. “I hate my room. I hate the thought of being trapped here. School is pretty much the only freedom I’m allowed-”

“You sneak out all the time. And you have a job.”

“And how long would it be before Wil takes that away from me too?”

Tommy drew back, frown twisting. “You make it sound like he’s a- a villain or something.”

“No, I know he’s not, I just-” What could he say? What could he possibly say to Tommy, who thought Wilbur was one of the greatest people in the world? He was too used to people saying Wilbur was worse than he thought, to people who’d been just as hurt by Wilbur as him, if not more. He bit his tongue and looked away. “I don’t think you could ever get it.”

“I don’t want to get it.”

“Well, good.” Honestly, he didn’t want Tommy to ‘get it’ either. As much as Fundy craved the life Tommy had, it was only in his lowest moments that he’d wished for them to swap places, or for Tommy to go through what he had. At this point, all Fundy really wanted was for Tommy to get his head out of his ass and realise there were people in the world other than him – well, he wanted a lot of other stuff too, such as a place to really call home and a father that would love him and people to matter to, though he was getting one step closer to each of those day by day.

Tommy muttered something under his breath and stood, twisting his spine a few times. “D’you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked, staring pointedly at the other side of the room.

“Uh, no. Thanks.”

He shrugged and went to get himself a drink, and Fundy tried to mentally sweep away the remains of their not-quite-argument. When Tommy returned and sat beside him again, Fundy took it upon himself to try and start a conversation this time.

“So, how’s it going with the whole magic light stuff?” he asked, wiping off the blood welling up on his finger and picking his trousers up again. “Tubbo mentioned you did something, like… a week ago? But he hasn’t said anything else since.”

“Oh, that’s going great, look what I can do now!” And he lifted his hand and, with a flash of blinding white light, a sword appeared in it. It wasn’t a real sword, not one made of metal; no, this sword was made of the same white light it had been forged in, with a slight fuzz around the edges where it bled out into reality. “Cool, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” His heart ached. “That’s… that’s fucking insane.”

“It’s easier for me to make a shield,” he said as the sword vanished again, “but a sword’s so much cooler. You can use it to stab people!”

“Have you stabbed anyone?”

“Only monsters,” he said with a shrug, sipping at his drink. He looked so casual as he said it, except his leg, which had started bouncing.

Should he ask? “Has anything else happened with the monsters?”

“Depends what you mean.” He sat up and stretched his legs out, hunching forward slightly so his face was hidden from view. “They’re as monstery as ever. I got a new scar on my back, actually.”

“Wait, I thought Hafu could heal?”

“She can. And 5up too.” Fundy’s cheeks warmed at the mention of 5up – he tried to ignore it, focusing on Tommy as he continued, “But it takes more energy to heal things more, so if it’s not in a visible place, they only heal it to a certain point. That way they can save their energy for healing literally everything else. They’re real worried about keeping things hidden.”

“I see.” He looked down at his work – maybe this hadn’t been a good topic.

Tommy rolled his shoulders and went back to the floor, setting the drink aside. The following silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was undeniably tense, both of them weighed down by the mention of the whole monster thing. After a few minutes of this, Fundy started singing along with the song still playing from Tommy’s phone – it didn’t have lyrics, but he knew the tune well enough by now to make ‘bap’ noises along with it. Tommy laughed when he realised what Fundy was doing and he joined in quickly, and the tension finally broke.

Once his alterations were done, Fundy joined Tommy on the floor and helped him put together a first pass of the halter top. Tommy made a face at it once it was done, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and swapped his current shirt for it, pulling a face again as he tugged at the fabric.

“Feels well weird to just have my back exposed like this,” he said, twisting around to try and see his own back. “And my arms – are there halter tops that have arms?”

“I don’t know,” Fundy said, grabbing his phone to check. “Uh- there are other backless tops that have arms, not specifically halter tops. Maybe you could try one of those?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugged. “Well. Guess I’d better test this thing, huh?”

Fundy glanced up, setting his phone aside. Tommy seemed uncomfortable. “Might be a good idea? It’d let us- you know, uh, what changes you have to make, right?”

“Right. Yeah, no, that makes sense.” He sighed and shook himself, then, with a bright flash of light – just like when he’d summoned the sword – there were suddenly wings growing from his back.

Fundy didn’t know why it surprised him so much to see them. He’d already known, after all, had already seen magic being used and heard everyone talk about it, but there was a difference between seeing what the others could do and seeing- what Tommy was? It was real in a way little to this point had been. That was his uncle, and those were wings, growing out of his back. White, feathery – like an angel, he thought, though Tommy was far from angelic.

“Woah,” he said, still trying to wrap his head around the sight in front of him.

“Cool, right?” Tommy said, shaking his wings out. They dislodged a mess of feathers, littering themselves across the chairs and carpet, and Tommy quickly turned to scowl at them, which only caused more feathers to rain down. There was a moment where Fundy could see Tommy working himself up, fingers flexing as he bounced on his toes, and then he started snatching the feathers up as he snapped, “Fucking- they’re so fucking annoying, seriously. They’ve destroyed five of my shirts now – five – and they leave all these fucking feathers everywhere, like a- like a chicken or something.”

“I thought you liked them?” Fundy asked, getting to his feet to help gather the feathers. “You said they were cool.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re cool – obviously they’re cool, Fundy,” he said flatly, staring Fundy dead in the eyes. “There’s no question of whether or not they’re cool. But they’re still just-” He gave a sharp sigh before returning to his task.

He considered the feathers in his hands. “Maybe you’re not taking care of them?”

“They’re weird magic wings that don’t exist most of the time, how the hell should I take care of them?” Tommy glared at him as though he’d said something profoundly stupid.

“I don’t know!”

He sighed and stretched his wings out to their full span. Again, there was a flurry of feathers, but Tommy seemed more tired than annoyed at this point. “They keep popping out,” he said. “They just keep popping out when I get spooked and ruining my shirts, so I figured- I figured I should do something, y’know? If I can’t control whether or not I have them.”

“That makes sense,” Fundy said, watching Tommy from the corner of his eye.

“But I just… I mean, it’d be easier if I didn’t have them, right?” He frowned at Fundy before abruptly saying, “I can’t fly with them.”

“You can’t?”

“Nope. They’re too small, see, and I’m too heavy.” Tommy shrugged and looked away. “It’s not like it even matters. Can’t fly down in the paths – can’t fly in the house. And can’t show my wings out where anyone can see ‘em.” He shrugged again, wings echoing the movement, and returned to gathering feathers.

“Oh. Right.”

“Everyone else has these powers that are, like, useful and shit. Tubbo’s been smashing monsters in the face with bowling balls, Ranboo can teleport us out of danger, Hafu and 5up can heal us and shoot, like, fucking fire and ice and shit at the monsters – I don’t know what Jack can do, but apparently it’s something that means Hafu lets him go out on his own, and he’s always, like, fine when he comes back.” He dumped his handfuls of feathers onto one of the chairs, frowning. “I got cool wings.”

“And the sword, right?” Fundy asked. He felt like he should tread carefully – clearly Tommy was upset, and Fundy wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was or what might set him off.

Before Tommy could respond, the door opened and they both jumped, another flash going off as Tommy’s wings disappeared. But it was just Tubbo, who stopped to stare at them both with a quizzical smile, eyes darting over the floor.

“Did you guys murder a chicken?” he asked, swinging the door shut.

“No,” Tommy snapped, standing up tall. “And- no, don’t just- why did you just run off with Ranboo like that earlier?”

“Oh.” He looked up at Tommy, brow wrinkling. “I thought you were with us!”

He spread his arms wide, scattering the feathers he’d been holding over the floor. “Obviously I wasn’t!”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice,” Fundy said, putting his feathers on the chair with Tommy’s and continuing to gather the rest. “Tommy’s a pretty hard guy to just miss.”

“And I wasn’t even that far behind you, so you can’t have waited that long,” Tommy said. “Tell him, Fundy – I was right there after Ranboo had left, wasn’t I?”

It was strange to be on this side of the argument – he thought Tubbo recognised that too, as he was looking more amused than concerned at this point. Fundy pushed that thought aside and nodded, telling Tubbo, “He was already there when I left, and I ended work at the same time as Ranboo. I just went to say a couple things to Niki, then walked out.”

“See!” Tommy pointed decisively at Fundy. “You just legged it – were you trying to avoid me or something?”

“I really wasn’t, honest,” Tubbo said. “I just got excited to celebrate with Ranboo, that’s all. I mean, the first paycheck is always the most fun to spend.”

“What would you know?” Fundy asked. “You don’t have a job.”

Tubbo waved him off. “Someone else’s first paycheck is always the most fun to spend.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, I know.” He pulled something small out of his inner pocket and held it out to Tommy, shrugging his other arm out of his coat. “Here, boss man! Bought this to make it up to you!”

Tommy’s mouth was pinched as he held his hand out, but his agitation quickly became glee as a delicate moth charm fell into his hand. He cooed as he brought it closer, holding it up to the light and examining it. “Aw, Tubs!” He turned it over in his hands and grinned at Tubbo, pulling his keys out to attach the charm. “Alright, I forgive you. But don’t do it again, got it?”

“’Course,” Tubbo said.

The peace that had settled between Fundy and Tommy shifted now that Tubbo had returned – shifted, but didn’t dissipate. Tommy encouraged Tubbo to tell them about his afternoon with Ranboo as they finished tidying up, still making an effort to include Fundy in the conversation, though the tidying quickly became derailed as Tubbo threw the pile of feathers in the air. Fundy had been annoyed – he’d just cleaned that up! – but with Tubbo and Tommy both laughing and the living room growing messier by the second, it was either join in or return to normalcy, to being excluded and hiding away in his room, so he bit his tongue and let them drag him into the chaos.

When they heard the sounds of Phil’s car pulling up, they were united in their panic. Tommy lunged for the sewing supplies still strewn across the floor and ran upstairs as Tubbo helped Fundy grab most of the feathers and toss them in the kitchen bin. As Tommy came back down, tugging the shirt he’d changed back into to lie straight, the door opened. Fundy, trying to ignore the feeling he'd done something wrong, quickly switched the TV to some show he didn’t recognise and sat at one end of the couch.

“Hey, kiddos!” Phil called, closing the door behind Wilbur. “Hope you didn’t get into too much- Tubbo, did you murder a chicken?”

“Yep,” Tubbo said, pulling the feathers from his hair. “For dinner, y’know?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Well, if you’ll just give me a moment to take my shoes and that off, I could make something for you? Something with less risk of salmonella.”

“I think salmonella builds character, actually.”

“Right…” Phil looked to Tommy and Fundy. “What about you two? You eaten yet?”

“Nah,” Tommy said, falling into the seat between Tubbo and Fundy and helping Tubbo pull the feathers from his hair. Fundy mutely shook his head, eyes darting between the screen and Phil and Wilbur.

“I’ll pop something on in a mo, then,” Phil said, shucking his coat before heading through to the kitchen.

Wilbur took a seat, looking them over with a raised eyebrow. “You going to explain the feathers at all?” he asked.

“Arts and crafts!” Tommy said quickly. “We were making something for Ranboo – you know Ranboo, right?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He brushed Wil off and continued, all in a rush, “He’s a school friend, kind of- not important, really, but he’s- he just got a job, actually, at- um, at where Fundy works! It was his first day today, so we- we decided to make something for him! Something with-” He paused, glancing at the other two. “Feathers!”

“A pillow,” Tubbo said, tickling Tommy’s ear with a feather. “Using the feathers for the stuffing.”

“Those are the wrong kinds of feathers,” Wilbur pointed out.

“Yeah, it was a pretty shit pillow.”

Wilbur frowned to himself. “How come you’ve never mentioned this Ranboo kid before?” he asked, gaze fixed on Tommy and Tubbo.

“He’s shy,” Tubbo said.

“He’s weird,” Tommy said at the same time.

Fundy said nothing at all, once again staring at the TV.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve made a friend!” Wilbur said, his tone warming. “I was starting to get worried you were going to follow in Fundy’s footsteps – how many friends do you have, Fundy?”

“Five,” Fundy said, figuring he could count Dream and Ranboo and 5up along with HBomb and Jack.

“And how many friends that aren’t school-mandated do you have?” Phil called from the kitchen, sounding amused.

He flushed, glaring at the TV as Tommy snickered beside him. “Still five!” He bit back the instinctive urge to lash out at Tommy – to point out that it was more friends than Tommy had – and instead said, “They still want to keep in contact with me even after school stopped caring, so- so they still count!”

“You should invite them around sometime,” Wilbur said. “And Ranboo, too – how about you invite him over tomorrow?”

“He said he’s busy tomorrow,” Tubbo said. “He’s working again, and then he’s having dinner with his family and-” He cut himself off, and Fundy mentally thanked him for not saying anything further.

When it became clear that Tubbo wouldn’t continue, Wilbur said a bright, “Next weekend, then!”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Well, let me know what he says.”

Fundy glanced across, seeing Tubbo on his phone and Tommy peering over Tubbo’s shoulder at the screen even as Tubbo tried to shove him away. There was a lull in the conversation as they were both distracted – always a dangerous thing when Wilbur was around, and even now, Fundy could see him preparing to ask a question Fundy was sure would get under his skin.

The only option was for him to speak first, so he did. “How was the art exhibition?”

“Oh, it was great! Might be something you’d like, Fundy,” Wilbur said, giving him a smile.

Fundy caught Tommy’s eye as he continued and saw his disdain echoed back at him. This sounded like an exceptionally boring exhibition, and it still boggled his mind a bit that Wil so clearly didn’t know what he liked, but at least he didn’t feel so much like an outsider as Tommy pressed their shoulders together and muttered to him under his breath about how the only thing he remembered from art museums was that all the statues had their dicks out, which made Fundy wrinkle his nose. Their whispered conversation and stifled laughter was the highlight of the evening.

Chapter Text

“Fundy!”

Fundy paused halfway up the stairs – he’d stopped home after work to get changed before the dinner at Ranboo’s, but it seemed that he wouldn’t be in and out as quickly as he would have liked. Stifling a sigh, he leaned over the banister to meet Wilbur’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“It’s not long ‘til your birthday now,” he said, gesturing for Fundy to come down. “We need to discuss what kind of celebration you want – probably best not to throw a full party, but-”

“Can it wait?” he asked, aware of each passing second. “I’m heading out with friends; I don’t want to be late.”

Wilbur’s face fell into an expression of dulled disappointment and he sighed through his nose. “This is your birthday we’re discussing, Fundy. And it’s your eighteenth, the big one! You’ll see your friends at school tomorrow, won’t you?”

“No, it-” He paused, drumming his fingers against the banister. To admit it was a dinner with Ranboo’s parents would raise the question of why Wilbur hadn’t been invited, but he needed some kind of explanation. “It’s a work thing,” he said. “A dinner to celebrate the new employees – Niki’s going to be upset if I duck out at the last minute.”

It was maybe a low blow to bring Niki into it, but it worked as Wilbur’s eyes tightened before he looked away, lowering his head slightly so Fundy couldn’t make out his expression. “Well,” Wilbur said after a few seconds, “just think about who you want to invite. We’ll discuss the rest later.”

He nodded quickly, despite the way his skin crawled at the thought of inviting people here, and said, “Will do!” before continuing up the stairs.

~

Fundy checked on the flowers cradled in the crook of his elbow, then looked between the door before him and Eret at his side. They were in a nice part of town and Fundy felt very out of place, even dressed in some of his more formal clothing, but Eret helped – their idea of formal made them look like royalty, laying the drudgery of the grey concrete and penned-in trees around this supposedly-upscale neighbourhood bare. But their smile was as kind and familiar as it always was, and he returned it before knocking on the door.

Ranboo opened it quickly, hesitating slightly when he noticed Eret, but he recovered and invited them in. “It’s good to see you again, Eret,” he said politely, smoothing down his waistcoat. “I, uh- I didn’t know you were Fundy’s mother?”

“My parents couldn’t make it,” Fundy said, grimacing slightly, “but Eret’s basically family, so we figured they could step in today?” It wasn’t really a lie, if by ‘family’ you meant ‘Niki and Eret’, which he did.

“Oh! Oh, okay, that makes sense.” Ranboo nodded and asked, his tone sympathetic, “Are your parents busy often?”

“I feel like I barely see them sometimes,” he said with an easy shrug. “But I have the shop, and they’ve known my dad for forever. It’s not so bad.”

“That’s nice,” Ranboo said, eyes crinkling. He was wearing his mask, but not the sunglasses, and it was weird seeing his eyes so clearly. Fundy kept feeling like he should avert his own. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my folks.”

He led them down the corridor and, with an apologetic glance towards Eret for the mention of Wilbur – even if they’d both agreed this was the best explanation to give, he still felt bad – Fundy followed.

“Should we take our shoes off?” he asked Ranboo.

“No, it’s fine!” He stopped at one of the doors and looked back at them. “I could take your coats, though?”

He liked keeping his jacket on, but the battered leather probably wouldn’t make a good impression, so he nodded and handed it over, taking care to ensure the flowers didn’t fall. Ranboo slung it over his arm before pushing the door open, calling out, “Mom, Fundy’s here!”

Ranboo’s mother was tall – a few scant inches shorter than Ranboo, which still meant Fundy had to look up to meet her gaze. She wore a polite smile as she looked him and Eret over, offering her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Fundy. “And thank you for, ah, buddying with my son, it’s very kind of you.”

He returned her smile, feeling the familiar weight of needing to make a good impression to a friend’s parents. Trying his best to shake it off, he shook her hand and said, “Thank you for having me. I got you these flowers.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you!” She took them, looking over the bouquet with an appreciative eye. When she smiled at Fundy again, it seemed a touch warmer. “These are gorgeous, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” he said, relieved his gift had gone over well.

Turning to Eret, she said, “And you must be Fundy’s mother?”

“As good as,” Eret said, and Fundy noticed the shock that flitted across Ranboo’s mother’s face as she heard their voice. He held his breath, waiting to see if she’d say anything, but thankfully the moment passed and her smile returned. “I’m actually a family friend,” Eret continued, “his father and I – we go way back. Unfortunately, Wilbur’s busy today; I hope I wouldn’t be intruding if I stepped in?”

“Oh, no, that should be fine,” she said. “I understand this dinner was short notice – I’m glad at least you two were able to make it. I’m Melissa Enderby, Mark’s mother.”

Fundy’s gaze darted to Ranboo, who had tensed slightly at the name. As Eret introduced themself, Ranboo stepped back towards the hall, taking the coat from over his arm, and Fundy followed him out.

“Ranboo?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Ranboo jumped and turned towards him. “Oh! Uh, hi. Did you need something?”

“I was just wondering-” He paused, trying to figure out the best question to ask. “Uh, I wanted to know what I should call you around your parents?”

“Oh, that- right.” Ranboo shook himself. “Ranboo’s fine – it’s just a nickname, they know about it, though my father might make fun of it a bit. I mean, it is kind of silly-”

“No it’s not.” He felt hot, his skin prickling; whatever reason Ranboo had for using the name, the thought of someone making fun of it rubbed Fundy the wrong way.

Ranboo waved him off and turned away. “Yeah, no, uh- you can call me Ranboo or- or my real name, it’s fine!” he said quickly. “Thanks for asking, though.”

He hesitated, glancing back towards the room – he could still hear Eret and Mrs. Enderby talking. “I’m trans,” he said before he could talk himself out of it. “Fundy isn’t my birth name, but it is my name.”

Ranboo turned towards him, shoulders tense. “Oh! I… I’m not trans, if that’s what you were asking?”

“No, I don’t- I wasn’t asking that,” Fundy said. “I was just saying that, like… I kind of get it? And- and I think Ranboo is a cool name and I promise I’ll call you it.”

Ranboo was silent for a moment before nodding, the movement slower and more relaxed than usual. His voice was warm when he said, “Thanks, Fundy. And thanks for, um, trusting me? With telling me you’re trans?” He paused before saying, “I- I don’t really know what to say, but mostly thanks for not… being weird about my name. I really do appreciate it.”

Fundy smiled at him, relieved beyond words that Ranboo similarly hadn’t been weird about him. “No problem, man,” he said. “Ranboo’s an awesome name!”

Ranboo returned his smile before continuing down the hall, and Fundy returned to the other two – three, now, as Ranboo’s father had shown up. Anger skittered like sparks down Fundy’s spine as he thought about how this guy apparently made fun of Ranboo’s name, but he forced a polite smile as they went through introductions again.

It wouldn’t be long until dinner, so they went to sit at the table and Ranboo got them drinks as Mrs. Enderby put the flowers in a vase and plated everything up. This left them with just Mr. Enderby for conversation – Fundy tried to tamp down his irritation.

“So, you’re Mark’s buddy at school, right?” Mr. Enderby asked Fundy.

“I am, yeah,” he said, twisting his fingers together under the table. “Ranboo and I-”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Ranboo – so he’s still using that nickname?”

This was going to be hard. “Yep!”

“It seems mighty silly to me. What’s wrong with Mark?” This question he directed towards Ranboo, who had just taken a seat.

“Hm?” Ranboo’s hands fluttered as he looked between them all. “Oh, ah- nothing! Just wanted to try something different, you know; new town, new me!” He gave a weak laugh and readjusted his mask.

“It’s unprofessional,” Mr. Enderby said with the tone of someone who believed they knew best and were keen to share their so-called wisdom with anyone who’d listen, and especially those who wouldn’t. “How are you expecting to get a job like this?”

“I… did get a job, though,” Ranboo said, his tone hesitant.

“Yeah, Ranboo works with me,” Fundy said quickly, sitting forward in his chair. When Mr. Enderby focused on him, he saw Ranboo relax, shoulders slumping slightly. He was really starting to hate this guy.

“Where do you work?” Mr. Enderby asked Fundy.

“Rainbow Treats,” he said. “It’s on Knightly Street-”

“Ah, yeah, I know it,” Mr. Enderby said, nodding. “With all the flowers out front, yep. It’s a weird little shop – probably the only place that would hire someone calling himself Ranboo.”

Mrs. Enderby came through at that moment, bearing several trays of food, and as Ranboo jumped up to help her with them, the conversation was thankfully dropped. Fundy glanced at Eret, his hands trembling. They placed a hand on his arm, rubbing their thumb back and forth and giving him a tight smile.

“Are you okay?” they asked quietly.

“Pissed,” he admitted, just as quiet.

“Understandable.” They gave his arm a squeeze. “I can handle the talking, if you’d prefer?”

“No, I should be alright. Thanks, though.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything.” They squeezed his arm again and sat back, turning their attention to the food. With many compliments to Mrs. Enderby for how it looked – Fundy had to admit, it looked amazing – they started serving themself.

Fundy looked at Ranboo, sitting across the table, and, with a quick glance to the others to make sure no one was watching, he nudged Ranboo’s foot. When Ranboo jumped and looked back at him, he mouthed ‘you okay?’ and he was relieved to see Ranboo nod and give him a thumbs up.

“So, Fundy,” Mrs. Enderby said once everyone was served – Fundy kept his gaze turned away from Ranboo, who’d removed his mask to eat, “why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

Shit. “I, uh, don’t really know what to say,” he said with an awkward chuckle. “I go to school with Ranboo, in the year above him, and I work at Rainbow Treats in my spare time.”

“Do you have any other hobbies?” she asked. “My son used to play volleyball – do you play any sports?”

If running away from home was a sport, he’d have an Olympic gold medal – but that wasn’t an appropriate response. “I do running sometimes,” he said. “Jogging around the neighbourhood, mostly.”

“Oh, that’s nice! It’s good to keep in shape.”

He scrounged his brain for anything else he could say, trying to remember if HBomb’s mother had asked similar questions when they’d first met. “I also… do coding,” he said. “On the computer. IT is actually my favourite class at school!” It wasn’t a high bar, but IT still cleared it.

“Maybe you could help my son out with IT, then,” she said, giving Ranboo a smile. “I feel like he only uses his computer for playing games, but coding would be a valuable skill to learn!”

“I’m not very good at it-”

She waved him off. “It was just an idea! Obviously you’ve got your own education to consider – do you know what you’ll be doing once you leave school?”

“I want to travel,” he said, more confident answering this than any other question to this point. “I’ve already got a driver’s licence and I’m saving up money for a car, so once I leave I’m planning a cross-country road trip.”

“Well, I can’t imagine how your parents must feel about that!”

His stomach rolled at the mention of his parents. “They both did a lot of travelling in their youth,” he lied. “They’re very supportive of me doing the same. Said that it was a… a valuable learning experience.”

“Still,” she said, smile still maddeningly polite, “it can’t be easy for them to let their son head out into the great unknown in only two years. Do you at least have any siblings?”

“No, but I do have two younger uncles. My grandfather adopted them and then we moved in with him so my- parents could help him raise them,” he said, dropping his gaze to his food as he stumbled slightly over his words. “They’re quite a handful, so me moving out will probably make things easier for them!”

Her tone was careful as she said, “That sounds… stressful. Why did he adopt two young boys at his age?”

“He took them in as a favour for a friend.” He was fairly certain that was the situation with Tubbo, though he had no idea why Phil had adopted Tommy – still, fudging the truth a bit would reduce the questions asked. “And he likes it,” he added, pushing his peas around his plate as he tried to come up with an answer she’d accept, toeing the line between the truth and the lies he’d been telling. “After my dad moved out, travelling and starting a family of his own, and with the rest of his family living out in the country – I mean, it’s what you were saying,” he looked up at Mrs. Enderby, “about it not being easy to let your son out into the great unknown. Having more kids around the house helped a lot with the loneliness, I imagine.”

She nodded, but there was still a pinched look about her face as she sat back. “Well,” she said, “at least your parents have been able to help him out.”

He returned her smile and nod and looked down at his food, hoping to avoid any further awkward questions. Thankfully, Eret was able to pick up the slack and for the rest of the meal Fundy only had to speak up rarely, though even that felt too much when Mr. Enderby had started interjecting again, especially with his dismissive comments towards Ranboo – Fundy fought to keep his smile polite and pressed his tongue tight against his teeth to avoid saying something he’d regret.

After they’d finished eating, Mr. Enderby excused himself in favour of heading upstairs – he had to get up early for work, Mrs. Enderby said with an apologetic tone, so he tended to have very early nights. Fundy was just happy to see the guy leave.

Mrs. Enderby stood to clear the table, asking Fundy and Eret, “Do either of you have a problem with dogs?” When Eret shook their head, Fundy hesitating briefly before mimicking the motion, she turned to Ranboo. “Could you let them back in then, sweetie?”

Ranboo, who was once again wearing his mask, nodded and went through to the kitchen.

“We have two dogs,” she continued, addressing Fundy and Eret once again. “They’re very well behaved so they shouldn’t cause any trouble, but we figured it would be best to put them out for the meal.”

As Eret responded, Fundy smoothed his fingers over his sleeve, tracing the scar on his arm. He couldn’t shake the little tremor of fear – he was used to dogs, had been around countless large and endlessly energetic ones at Techno’s, so two well-behaved dogs should surely be fine, and yet-

He looked up when Mrs. Enderby left and Ranboo returned, the dogs close at his heel. They were large – or maybe long was a better descriptor – and one of them was all-white and the other all-black.

“Here they are,” Ranboo said, his tone bright for the first time all evening. “The white one is called Black and the black one is White.”

Fundy blinked, staring between the dogs and Ranboo. “Are you serious?”

“Yep!”

“Why would you name them that?”

He gave an awkward laugh, petting Black. “I don’t know, I- I thought it was funny? I still kinda think it’s funny, actually.”

“They’re very pretty,” Eret said, crouching before the dogs and offering their hand. “Borzois, right?”

“I believe so, yeah.”

As the dogs solemnly nosed Eret’s hand with their long snouts, Eret’s smile softened. “They’re very well behaved! Fundy, do you want to come and say hi to them?”

He looked at the dogs. They didn’t look like Techno’s dogs at all, really, less wolfish and more… noodley. They weren’t leaping and barking and trying to climb up on the nearest person; they’d stuck to Ranboo’s sides and waited patiently for Eret to reach out to them.

He wished that was enough for him to shake off his discomfort.

“I’m fine over here,” he said, forcing a grin. “They look cool, though! Did you pick the colours to go with your whole,” he gestured to his own mouth, indicating Ranboo’s mask, “or did you pick the aesthetic to match them?”

“The dogs came first,” Ranboo said. “I think. Well, I’ve always liked the whole black-and-white thing? But the dogs – my parents got me them for a birthday, and I don’t think they picked the colours for any reason, so… yeah!” He adjusted his mask and added, “I did choose the mask to match the sides they tend to stick to, though, with White here and Black there; black and white. That was a conscious choice on my part.”

“Very supervillain,” he said approvingly, giving a thumbs up.

Ranboo choked on a laugh, staring at Fundy in confusion. “Wha- supervillain? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“With the whole black and white suit and black and white mask and black and white dogs…” He waved a hand over Ranboo, head to toe. “You look like a supervillain!”

“I do?”

“You kind of do,” Eret agreed, sitting back on their heels and grinning up at him.

Ranboo stared down at himself, then looked up at Eret and Fundy. “Really?”

“Well,” Fundy said, glancing at Eret, “villains always have the matching animals, don’t they? The creepy one-eyed guy in the shadows petting the creepy one-eyed cat?” He returned his gaze to Ranboo, still grinning. “Long black-and-white boy and long black-and-white dogs!”

“And they’re often better dressed than the heroes,” Eret said as Ranboo spluttered. “The villains wear suits, the heroes wear- well, generally spandex if we’re talking super.”

“It’s a compliment!” Fundy insisted when Ranboo still seemed bewildered. “You look cool!”

“Thank… you?” Ranboo laughed awkwardly, started to speak before cutting himself off, then shook his head and said an uncertain, “Uh, yeah. Thanks. I think.”

After a moment, Eret pushed themself to their feet and suggested they move through to the living room. Fundy made sure to sit as far away from the dogs – which sat at Ranboo’s feet – as possible, running his fingers over his scar again and again. This was fine.

They were talking about pets now, Eret asking further questions about Black and White before Ranboo asked if Eret had any pets, prompting them to talk about their cat. Fundy wanted to join in – he’d met Goose a few times while visiting Eret and had really liked him – but his gaze kept drifting to the dogs and his words stuck in the back of his throat.

“Do you have any pets?” Ranboo asked, peering around Eret to ask Fundy.

He tore his gaze away from White, who’d started staring back at him. He wasn’t sure what the signs were that a dog was about to attack. That felt like something he should know. “Huh?”

Eret frowned and asked, “Fundy, are you alright?”

“Yeah?” They didn’t seem convinced, and now Ranboo was starting to look concerned too. “Uh- just not used to dogs like this,” he said quickly. “I keep expecting them to, like, jump up and stuff. I’m fine, though!”

“I can put the dogs back outside if you’d prefer,” Ranboo said, getting to his feet.

“No, I’m fine! Really, I’m fine!” His heart hammered as he glanced at the dogs again – they were both looking up at Ranboo, tails wagging slightly. “I just gotta get used to them, it’s really not-”

Ranboo hesitated, wringing his hands, before turning to Eret beseechingly. Still frowning, they suggested, “Maybe put them in another room for the time being?”

Fundy’s stomach twisted as Ranboo led the dogs from the room, hating the fact that he did feel better once they were out of sight. He dug his nails into his scar, blunted by his sleeve, and resisted the urge to stubbornly insist he was fine.

“They’re up in my room,” Ranboo said as he came back in. “Sorry about that.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Fundy said. “I should’ve said something sooner.”

“No, you don’t need to apologise!” Ranboo sat down again, but he was sitting at the edge of his seat now, fingers curled over the edge, and Fundy felt even worse for making Ranboo uncomfortable. “Do you, um, have dogs at home? You mentioned not being used to dogs like them, so…”

“Not at home. My uncle has dogs though – Uncle Techno.” He glanced towards Eret, unsurprised to see a sombre smile flicker across their face.

“Ah, I haven’t heard from Techno in a while,” they said. “Is he doing alright?”

“Yeah, he’s great.”

“What kind of dogs does he have?”

“All sorts, but mostly big ones,” Fundy said, holding his hand up to the approximate height. “Big and fluffy and white – they look more like polar bears than dogs, honestly!”

Ranboo stared at Fundy’s hand with wide eyes. “That sounds terrifying,” he said.

“They’re fine,” he said, dropping his hand. “They’re friendly. They’ve never- They, uh, don’t hurt family, so it’s fine. I mean, they’re a lot to deal with, but they’re not really scary.” Not that it stopped Fundy from being scared of them, of course.

Ranboo shuddered and shook his head. “Uh- do you have any other pets?” he asked Fundy. “Less scary ones?”

“I had a stick insect when I was younger. No idea what happened to it, though.”

“Oh. Did you like it?”

He shrugged, looking away. “It was a stick insect, I was, like, five – I liked watching it more than reading books, but it still wasn’t that interesting.” In an effort to help the flow of conversation, he added, “I always wanted a cat, though! When I get my own place, I’m definitely getting one.”

“Cats are cool,” Ranboo said, shoulders easing slightly. “What kind of cat were you thinking of?”

“Literally any.” He tugged on a lock of hair and grinned at Ranboo. “Maybe I could go for an orange one, though, to match me like your dogs match you!”

“Would that be ‘supervillain’?” he asked, long fingers sketching the quotation marks in the air and eyes crinkled in amusement.

He waved Ranboo off. “Nah, I don’t think I could manage supervillain.”

“But I can?”

“Until you start talking, yeah!”

Ranboo laughed, but he quickly cut himself off, hands clapping over his mouth as his eyes darted to the ceiling. After a tense few seconds, he lowered his hands. His voice had quietened to a near-whisper as he said, apologetic, “I shouldn’t be so loud.”

Fundy clasped his hands together to hide the way they’d started trembling again and bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood as he gave Ranboo a smile. “Don’t worry about it!”

Before he could say anything more, Mrs. Enderby came back through. “Remember to be quiet, dear,” she said to Ranboo, tone admonishing, before giving Fundy and Eret a tight smile and adding, “Sorry about that – could I get either of you a drink?”

He wanted to leave, but saying so would be impolite. “Could I have a water, please?” he asked, figuring he should at least wash the taste of blood out of his mouth.

“I would like water too, if that’s alright,” Eret said.

Ranboo just shook his head, so Mrs. Enderby nodded and left. It wasn’t long before she returned, handing Eret and Fundy each a glass of water and taking a seat, before glancing around the floor with a puzzled expression.

“Where are the dogs?” she asked Ranboo, and Fundy felt himself flinch.

“They… wanted to go upstairs,” Ranboo said. “They were tired from the garden, I think.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, frowning briefly before turning back to Eret and Fundy. “What were you guys talking about before I came in?”

“We were discussing pets,” Eret said, drawing Mrs. Enderby’s attention and giving Fundy a much-needed breather. “I actually have a cat, Goose, and I was just sharing some stories about him.”

As they continued talking, Fundy drank his water and tried to relax. He still felt on-edge, jumpy, and he wasn’t sure how much of that was the dogs or the uncomfortable mirror image Ranboo and his father painted. He was endlessly grateful to Eret for coming here with him, as this might have been truly unbearable otherwise.

“Fundy,” Mrs. Enderby said, and he quickly looked up. She didn’t seem to have noticed his inner turmoil, which was a relief, as she simply continued, “You mentioned you worked with Ranboo, right? At Rainbow Treats? What’s that like?”

“It’s great,” he said, placing his empty glass on the side. “Even before I started working there, it was one of my favourite places to visit, and the job has really helped me with my confidence – that’s why I recommended it to Ranboo, too.”

“Are there many other people working there?”

“Not… many, no,” he said hesitantly, unsure what her definition of that was. “There’s me and the owners and now the two new starters – Ranboo included. The other one, Hannah, just started today, in fact. It’s a small establishment – before I got hired, they were able to run it just the two of them, but they’ve been taking an interest in helping students develop their skills which is why they’ve been hiring more people recently.”

She nodded, saying, “It’s good to hear there are still businesses that help out their local community.”

“Yeah, community is really something they value.”

“Are you involved with the shop at all?” she asked Eret.

“Not involved, no,” they said, shaking their head. “Me and the owners are old friends, though. I actually met Fundy’s father through Niki.”

That was something Fundy hadn’t known, and the fact surprised him – he didn’t know why it surprised him, except that it was just another puzzle piece of their history that didn’t quite slot with anything else he’d learned.

He turned his attention back to Mrs. Enderby as she said, “Oh, that’s nice. Is that how you got your start at the shop, then, Fundy?”

“Kind of,” he said, grasping for a suitable answer. “I, uh, used to hang around the shop a lot when I was younger and helped out where I could, and at some point they decided to make it official and start paying me a wage. But yeah, no, the owners are- they’re basically family, like Eret.” Niki far more than Puffy, but he was hardly about to bring that up to a near-stranger.

“And how is it that you all know each other?” she asked Eret. “Old school friends?”

Fundy held his breath as he turned to Eret too, eager for more information on their mysterious past – though the answer, when it came, turned out to be mundane and underwhelming.

“I met Niki through work, actually,” they said. “It was her first job and I’d been in the role a while, so I took her under my wing, as it were. Puffy – the other owner – she worked there too, albeit in a different department so we didn’t have much contact before the company went under.” They shrugged. “Even if the job itself was not something I look back on fondly, I’m grateful to it for introducing me to my two best friends, and thereby granting me opportunity to introduce them to each other. Every cloud, as they say.”

“Oh, what company was that?” she asked, curious.

“I don’t imagine you’d know it,” they said, spreading their hands, “it wasn’t a big company and, as mentioned, it is now no more. To be honest, I don’t know if I even remember the name myself. We’ve all moved on to greener pastures, and I… try not to be one to dwell on the past.”

“It sounds like it all worked out, at least. And what kind of work do you do now?”

“Freelance administration. Yourself?”

“Oh, I’m still trying to get back into work,” she said, waving them off. “I took a break after having my son to focus on the family, and now that we’ve moved for Gregory’s work it’s…” She paused, then said a bracing, “Well. If my son’s able to get a job, I’m sure it won’t be too long before I do too.”

That statement struck Fundy as a bit backhanded, but Ranboo seemed unaffected so he again decided against saying anything.

“I hope that goes well for you,” Eret said, inclining their head. They then turned towards the clock, mouth twitching. “I’m afraid I promised to get Fundy back before seven, so we’ll have to take our leave.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Enderby said, getting to her feet and offering her hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Eret.”

They rose and shook her hand. “Thank you for having us, and especially thank you for the delicious meal.”

She smiled and said, “We’d be happy to have you over again – hopefully with Fundy’s parents next time?”

“That would be wonderful.”

She nodded and released their hand, turning to Fundy. “And it was good to meet you too,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m very happy to see Ranboo has such a responsible young man as his buddy.”

He wanted to laugh, but he was meant to be on his best behaviour, so he returned her smile and said, “Thank you.”

Ranboo led the two of them out of the room, saying, “I think that went well! But, um, sorry again for the dogs, Fundy-”

“It’s fine, really,” he said quickly. He took his coat back and slipped it on, relaxing as the familiar weight of the leather settled across his shoulders.

Ranboo nodded, though he still seemed uncertain. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, then,” he said, holding the door open.

“See you then.” He gave Ranboo a smile, relieved to see him return it, before heading out.

Eret said their own goodbye, apologising again for the switch-up with Fundy’s parents, before following Fundy to the street. Once the door was closed, they asked Fundy, “Are you heading home now, then?”

“Probably,” he said. “Might head to Schlatt’s, though.”

They turned away, but Fundy caught the beginnings of their frown. He knew they didn’t like Schlatt – though they’d never disliked Schlatt as openly as everyone else, seeming mostly uncomfortable at the mention of him – and regretted mentioning him. “I suppose we should part ways,” they said, staring in the direction of their own home. “Unless there was anything you wanted to discuss?”

“I’ll walk you home, actually,” Fundy said quickly, looping his arms around one of Eret’s and pulling them down the street.

They laughed, surprised. “I feel like this is a bit backwards-”

“Nah, it’s fine!” He patted Eret’s arm, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “And, um, thanks for helping out today. That was much easier to get through with you there.”

“I’m glad I could help,” they said, smile returning. He was glad to see it, even just in his periphery.

“Also…” He hesitated, mind turning back to what Wilbur had said earlier.

“Also?”

“You know how it’s my birthday soon?” he asked, glancing towards them.

“Yes, I am aware,” they said, their tone somewhere between fond and amused. “I’ve already sorted out my present for you, don’t worry.”

“No, I- I wanted to ask something.”

“Go on?”

He looked away. “My dad said I should think about who I want to invite ‘round – I’m not even really sure what for, but- and I know things are weird with you and Wil, so I totally get if you don’t want to come, and I’d still need to run it by him and everything so I don’t know…” He shook himself, mouth twisting, and met Eret’s gaze as he asked, “If it’s possible, would you be alright with being invited over?”

“I…” They frowned, considering. “I would not be opposed,” they said slowly. “It depends on whether I’d be allowed, of course, and I know there’s likely to be some… some awkwardness between myself and Wilbur, and I wouldn’t want that to taint your birthday celebrations. But if you would like to have me there-”

“I really would,” Fundy said quickly. “You and Niki. Or we could do something separate if Wil says no and I’ll just figure out someone else to invite, but it wouldn’t be a good birthday if I didn’t do something with you two.”

They gave him a soft smile, adjusting their glasses as they turned forward again. “Well,” they said, a slight tremble in their voice, “I certainly wouldn’t want you to have a bad birthday. I’d be happy to attend if possible.”

He relaxed, bumping his head against their shoulder. “Good.”

~

It was late when he got in – he’d stayed at Schlatt’s for longer than usual, trying to dispel the last of his discomfort from the meal before he risked Wil adding to it. Wil was still up, though, sitting at the kitchen table with a little lamp on and scrolling through his phone. He looked up at Fundy as he entered, setting his phone aside.

“How was the dinner?” he asked, tone and expression both carefully neutral.

“It was good,” Fundy said.

“Good, good.” He looked towards his phone, drumming his fingers on the table. “I don’t want to keep you up too long – I know you’ve got school tomorrow – but can we discuss your birthday now?”

He nodded and joined Wilbur at the table. “What did you want to discuss with it?”

“First of all, Kristin said she’d be coming to visit for it,” he said, and Fundy’s stomach swooped with shocked excitement. “Only for the day, though – Phil will be going to collect her Saturday morning, maybe Friday evening if they can arrange it, and then she’ll be heading back first thing Sunday. If she comes over on the Saturday, she should be here at about noon, so I was thinking we could do a lunch celebration? Do all the presents and the cake, and then you can head out with your friends for the rest of the afternoon and we’ll just do something smaller for dinner. Or,” he said, eyes tight – almost accusatory – as he met Fundy’s gaze again, “you might disappear off to have dinner with- with somebody else, as you usually do.”

Apparently not even the topic of birthday celebrations could escape Wil’s passive-aggressive comments. He dropped his gaze to the table, tracing its wood grain with his gaze as he shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t arranged anything yet,” he said. “Lunch sounds good, though.”

“Right.” Wilbur sat forwards in his chair, pulling a pen and paper close. “Have you thought at all about who you want to invite to that?”

“I’ll ask some friends at school tomorrow,” he said, “but I was also thinking…” He took a deep breath, summoning all his courage, and asked, “Would it be alright if I invited Niki and Puffy and Eret?”

Wilbur froze. After a moment he set the pen aside, then he braced his elbows against the table and clasped his hands before his face; when Fundy looked up, he saw dark eyes staring back at him, slightly narrowed.

“Niki, Puffy, and Eret?” Wilbur repeated, each syllable pronounced with careful precision.

“Yes?”

“You really think they’d agree?” There was a hint of disdain in his tone, though Fundy wasn’t sure who it was for.

“I brought it up with Eret as a possibility,” he said, “and they said they’d be happy to attend as long as you allowed it. I didn’t get the chance to ask Niki yet, but… but I think she’d agree too.”

He stared at Fundy for what felt like an eternity before eventually sighing and picking the pen up again. “If they agree to it,” he said as he quickly scribbled their names down, his tone suggesting he didn’t think that was likely. “And make sure to tell me which of your school friends you’re inviting too – and whether your boyfriend can make it.”

There was no way in hell he was inviting Dream. “I’ll see what he says.”

Wilbur tapped his pen against the table before glancing up at Fundy again. “And what about Schlatt?”

“I’m not inviting him,” he said. “I’ll visit him later, probably.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t visit him at all.”

“It’s my birthday, isn’t it?”

He felt like a spoiled brat for saying it, and was certain Wilbur would at least give him a disapproving look for it, but to his surprise Wilbur merely sighed again. “I suppose so,” he said. “And you’ll be an adult too, so there’s even less I can do. Just promise me you’ll be careful?”

This nearly made Fundy feel worse than if he’d said something truly cutting. “I will,” he promised, looking away.

Wilbur made another note on the paper, then pushed his chair back and stood. “Let me know what happens tomorrow,” he said, and he ruffled Fundy’s hair as he walked past. It took every ounce of Fundy’s willpower to not flinch away from that touch.

~

“It’s my birthday soon,” was how Fundy greeted Jack on Monday morning. He’d managed to shake off the worst of his dour mood from yesterday, though his scalp still tingled with the sensation of phantom fingers – he swept a hand through his hair, which helped a bit.

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

“I was going to invite you to the birthday lunch, but if you’re going to be like that…”

“What’s this about a birthday lunch?”

“Wil’s insisting on a family meal,” he said, “for the presents and the cake, since he rightly assumes I won’t be back for dinner. He said I should invite some school friends and, hey, you’re a school friend!”

“Nice to know you think so highly of me.” He wrinkled his nose. “But it sounds like a nightmare. Can I pass?”

“Yeah, sure, abandon me to deal with the nightmare alone.”

“Hey, it’ll be fine! You can invite Dream and-”

“Nope,” he said quickly and firmly. “Not inviting Dream.”

“What? Why not?”

He looked away, considering how to respond. “Because… Dream doesn’t know about my father being the worst, and we’re going to be breaking up on my birthday anyway, and I’d just really rather not?”

Jack gave a short laugh, shaking his head, and said, “It’s well weird hearing you plan out a break-up so casually. Especially on your birthday – that’s got to be the worst present ever.”

“Getting one final day with him as my boyfriend is the best present ever, actually.” He bounced on the balls of his feet and, glancing at Jack, said, “Look, you know my dad sucks, you’ve met Tommy and Tubbo and know they’re… whatever the fuck they are, and you’ve met Kristin and she likes you! And Niki and Eret and Puffy are going to be invited too, so it’s almost completely people you already know.”

“Wait, Niki and Eret and Puffy?” Jack asked. “You’re really inviting them?”

“I like them! Or- I like Niki and Eret, and it’d be kind of a dick move to not invite Puffy too.”

Jack gave him a confused look. “But don’t they have some kinda beef with your dad?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged, a frown tugging at his lips. “But Wil said it was alright if they agreed, and Eret said they’d come if Wil allowed it, so I think it’ll be fine?”

Jack stared at him for a moment longer before sighing. “Fine,” he said, bumping their arms together. “I’ll come to your lunch thing, I guess.”

“Don’t want to miss the fireworks?” he asked with a grin, pleased beyond words that Jack had agreed.

“Yep. So who else were you planning to invite?”

He ran through the list of people he knew in his head. “Uh… no one.”

“No one? Really?”

“I know HBomb wanted to do something,” he said, waving him off, “but we can do that in the afternoon – HBomb has managed to avoid my family up until this point and I don’t want to break that winning streak. I haven’t really talked with Dream about if we’re doing something yet, ‘cause that’s going to be a whole conversation, but I figure- well, I’ve got the whole afternoon and evening to spend with the people I want to spend it with.”

“And then you’re leaving?” Jack asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at Fundy sidelong.

“And then I’m leaving,” he said. “I can get a train out to the city, probably get some shitty little hotel for the night, and… well, that’ll be that! I can figure out a proper plan once I’m out.”

Jack nodded, mouth pinched, and turned his gaze back to the street. After a few seconds he said a quiet, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He wished there was something more he could say, but nothing came to mind, so he let the silence lie.

~

At lunch, he once again found himself once again in a classroom talking to 5up – playing their game, technically, and Fundy had three whole questions stockpiled that he was still wondering what to use on. He’d asked a lot of non-game questions too, such as whether 5up had any scars, the memory of Tommy's off-handed mention of a new scar on Saturday making him morbidly curious. As expected, almost all of 5up’s scars were from monsters, though there were a couple others that he’d gotten as a child – those might have been the worst scars in a way, small reminders that he’d had a life before the magic and the monster-slaying.

“What about you?” 5up said, rolling down his trousers and settling into a cross-legged position, elbows on his knees and hands tucked under his chin. “Any interesting scars?”

“I’ve only got the one,” he said, fingers ghosting over his arm. There was a part of him that didn’t want to talk about the scar, though it wasn’t like it was something 5up could use against him – it was literally just a scar – but still, he couldn’t shake his unease. After a few seconds he slipped his jacket off, hesitating a bit longer, his hand resting on the cuff of his sleeve, as he said, “It- it’s not really interesting, though.”

“Well, neither are jungle gym injuries, to be fair,” 5up said, patting his knee. “I mean, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to, of course. But it’s not, like, a competition.”

He took a deep breath and, before he could talk himself out of it, rolled his sleeve up to bare his forearm. The scar sat plainly upon it; a bite mark of some kind. He pushed aside his residual discomfort and looked up at 5up – who was giving his arm a blank look.

“Where is it?” 5up asked.

He traced a finger over the scar, mind whirling as he searched for an explanation. 5up’s confusion looked genuine, and it’d be a real weird joke to make, but the scar was so obvious! He didn’t understand how 5up couldn’t see it. Still, the longer he looked, the more certain he became that 5up really couldn’t. He dug his nail in and forced a grin.

“Oh, uh- never mind!”

“Never mind?” 5up tilted his head, gaze darting between Fundy’s face and arm – Fundy quickly tugged his sleeve back down. “Fundy, what’s going on?”

“Yeah, just forget it-” His laugh petered out as 5up’s fingers slipped around his wrist. 5up didn’t say anything, but he was watching Fundy closely, his grip tight. Fundy’s gaze fell on his hand, which was still resting just over the scar.

“Dog bite,” he said eventually, looking up at 5up through his lashes. With his heart in his throat, he asked, “Do you really not see it?”

“I really don’t,” he said, mouth twisting in a puzzled frown. “That’s weird. I’m guessing it’s pretty obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” He pinched the end of Fundy’s sleeve, eyes bearing nothing but curiosity. “Can I see it again?”

“You can’t see it at all,” Fundy said, but he slipped his sleeve up as he spoke. He traced the shape of the scar, paying closer attention to it than normal – and, for the first time, he realised that it didn’t feel like scar tissue, instead just feeling like normal skin. He watched 5up’s expression closely as he followed the path of Fundy’s finger with his gaze. There was a small wrinkle in his brow. “Do you think I’m making it up?”

“No, of course-” 5up cut himself off as Fundy wrapped careful fingers around his wrist. “Really?” he asked, giving Fundy a narrow-eyed look. “You’re wasting a question on this? I was being honest!” Fundy swallowed and didn’t let go, and 5up sighed. His voice was firm when he spoke. “No. I think it’d be a pretty weird thing to make up. Plus,” he lifted Fundy’s left wrist, which he was still holding onto, “this.”

He looked down at his forearm – the scar still looked real, even now he knew it wasn’t. “What other explanation is there, though?” he asked, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.

“I think it’s a magic scar,” 5up said easily. “Think about it! There are two enigmas when it comes to you and magic – how you can go through the door when you apparently don’t have magic, and how you have a scar no one else can see-” He stopped, tilting his head to the side, and asked, “Can anyone else see it?”

“I’ve never shown it to anyone,” he admitted, averting his gaze. “I mean my dad probably knows about it – what caused it – assuming something did cause it.” He huffed, getting confused by what was and wasn’t real. “If it’s a real scar, or was a real scar, then my family would have known because they would have been the ones to patch me up. But I’ve never… I’ve never deliberately shown it to anyone, not that I can remember.”

“How come?”

“Because I figured people would ask about it and I wouldn’t know what to say. I don’t remember how I got it; I’ve always had it. Well, maybe not always,” he amended. “There’s a photo of me from ages ago where you can see my arms, and I don’t have it there. I… don’t actually know what that means now, though.”

5up hummed and pulled his phone out, snapping a picture of Fundy’s bare arm. He showed the screen to Fundy, gaze questioning. “See it?”

“Yep.” The scar tissue was shiny, reflecting the flash. Fundy pulled a face. “Can you delete that?”

“Sure,” he said, doing so. “And you really don’t know what caused it?”

“I really don’t.” He hesitated, gaze dropping to 5up’s fingers still gripping his wrist. “Well- I’ve always thought there were, like, three possibilities – but no, I don’t know for certain.”

“Three possibilities?” 5up asked.

He shook his head. “None of them make sense, though. I don’t get why people would just not mention that I got mauled by a dog – or- or a wolf, or a fox – so… And all of the options suck, to be honest.”

5up’s mouth twisted slightly. “I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about them?”

“I don’t.” He gave a half-shrug, feeling bad for his refusal but knowing he’d feel worse if he talked. “But the point is that there’s just… not really an explanation for it, so it’s probably just not real. Right?”

“Nah,” 5up said. “Going back to my original point, I think there’s something weird and magic going on with this.” He held his finger just above Fundy’s arm, close enough that Fundy could feel its heat. “Maybe that’s why you can go through the door – maybe it’s why you can’t do magic.”

“What, like a vampire sucked the magic-juice out of me?” he asked, trying to smile as he 5up’s gaze again.

“Maybe!” He placed his hand on the desk beside Fundy’s arm, amusement giving way to something soft and genuine. “Seriously though, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I definitely don’t think you’re just making it up. Promise.”

“I don’t believe I’m not just making it up,” he said, pulling his sleeve down again. He felt uncomfortable looking at it now that he knew – it wasn’t like he’d felt wholly comfortable looking at it before, either.

“I’m sure we can find an answer-”

“I don’t want an answer, though. I just want to not have it.” He gripped the fabric of his sleeve, twisting it between his fingers, and hoped he wasn’t about to cry. This conversation had gotten way out of hand.

“Okay then,” 5up said, taking one of Fundy’s hands. To Fundy’s surprise, he wrapped it around his own wrist and, meeting Fundy’s gaze squarely, said, “I promise not to talk about it if you don’t want to talk about it. I won’t tell anyone else about this. But, if you ever do want to figure out what’s going on, I also promise that I’ll help out however I can. It’s up to you, though, okay?”

He swept his thumb across the underside of 5up’s wrist, feeling the even pulse of his veins and arteries. “Okay,” he said, letting go of the last of his distrust. “Thank you.”

5up’s smile was like the sun coming up in the morning; it carried the promise of a bright, warm future. Fundy’s heart skipped a beat as he returned it.

Chapter Text

Tuesday lunchtime found Fundy sitting, as usual, with Dream and his friends, though today he was distracted, his mind a mess of questions about magic. He was trying not to think about it, had his sleeve pulled firmly down over his hand so that it wouldn’t risk riding up and revealing the scar that wasn’t real, but the only thing that really worked to distract him was the awareness of the slow creep of time that drew his birthday ever nearer. The days until he’d be leaving all this behind – the good and bad both – were ever-dwindling. He felt like he should be doing more with the time he had left, but that feeling was stopping him from even being able to enjoy lunch with his boyfriend.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dream asked quietly, nudging his arm.

“Hm?” He looked up, packing the sandwich he’d been staring at – salmon, again – away. “What does that mean?”

“I was just wondering what’s on your mind,” he said. “You’re all distracted. Is everything okay?”

“Oh. Yeah, just-” He paused to consider his answer. “I’ve just… been organising birthday stuff, and speaking of, did you maybe want to do something?”

“Aren’t we going to be breaking up then?” Dream asked, cocking his head to the side as he gave a quizzical smile.

“Yeah, but so what?”

“Isn’t that going to be awkward as all hell?”

“Is it?”

Dream shrugged, smile brightening as he gave a small laugh. “Well, I guess it’s not guaranteed,” he said. “I mean, if you really want to do something, I’m definitely up for it! What were you thinking of?”

“I’ve got plans with my family over the morning and for lunch,” Fundy said, skipping right over the fact that there wouldn’t just be family at the lunch – he’d invited Niki, Puffy, and Eret yesterday afternoon and all had agreed, albeit with some hesitance. “Then I was going to be hanging out with friends in the afternoon – Jack, HBomb, and whoever else wants to come – so you’re welcome to that! And I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing for dinner, and-” And there was his visit to Schlatt to fit in somewhere, but that could probably happen later. “Uh, yeah! There’s some options!”

“Oh, it’d be fun to hang out with HBomb!” he said brightly. “Were there any plans for the hangout, or was it just a ‘meet up and see what happens’ kinda thing?”

“No plans yet,” Fundy said. “It’ll probably be ‘meet up and see’, but HBomb is being super cagey about his visit, so maybe he does have something planned? You should probably ask him about it.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Dream said, a spark of intrigue dancing in his eyes. “But yeah, that sounds good! And that’s the… tenth, right?”

“Yep!”

He nodded. “Well, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Nice!”

Fundy grinned at Dream, cheeks warming when Dream returned the smile, and took advantage of the distraction to sneak a handful of Dream’s chips from his tray. Ignoring the snickers from Red across the table – the only one to notice Fundy’s thievery – he looked out across the rest of the cafeteria as he ate them.

On the other side of the room, Hafu stood and made her way towards the cafeteria exit, and Fundy found his mind returning to the conversation with 5up yesterday. If there was anyone 5up would have told about Fundy’s weird and potentially-magic scar, regardless of his promise, he was sure it was her. He tried to dismiss the thought as just paranoia, but it wouldn’t leave him be.

“Hey, uh, I’ll be back in a second,” he said, giving Dream a kiss and stealing another chip as he stood.

Dream scowled at him, putting one hand protectively over the remaining chips, but it soon melted into a concerned look. “Something wrong?”

“Nah, I’m fine, just-” He glanced at the door – Hafu was nearly out of sight. “I’ll be back soon!” he said, not having the time to come up with a good lie, and he left.

He caught up with Hafu out in the yard, not quite at the door itself. “Hafu!” he called, forcing a grin, figuring it was probably better to be polite than not.

Her gaze was narrowed with suspicion when she turned to him. “Fundy,” she said shortly. “What do you want?”

“I, uh- I’ve been talking with 5up-”

“I heard.” She jerked her chin up, folding her arms. “If you’ve come to argue your case again, save your breath. It doesn’t change anything. It’s still too dangerous for you to be involved.”

That wasn’t an answer. There was certainly implication that Hafu hadn’t been told about his scar, but he couldn’t be sure. He shifted his weight, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. “I… Can I at least have those numbers, though? For the people who have also, y’know, been in the loop but not involved?”

“No.” Her answer was quick and firm, leaving no room for argument.

“Why not?” he argued anyway.

She let out a sharp breath, glancing towards the rest of the yard. In a low voice she said, “Because do you really think they’re going to want to get contacted out of nowhere by some random guy asking about- about that? Maybe it’s hard for you to understand, just hearing about what happened, but it’s not a fun time.”

“I know,” he said, lowering his own voice. “I’ve talked to Jack! I know what happened to him!”

“And yet you’re still intent on dredging up those bad memories for my friends?”

He sighed, rubbing at his arm – at the scar, he belatedly realised – and shook his head. “What, so I’m just supposed to ignore all this?”

“Preferably, yes!” She swept her hair over her shoulder and added, “I mean, if you really want to talk, you’ve got 5up and you’ve got Jack – and probably Ranboo and Tommy and Tubbo too. Why are you so keen on specifically talking to people who’ve managed to get out?”

“Because you all have magic,” he hissed. “I don’t know what’s going on with me-”

“Neither would they! None of them could go through the door!”

“It’s not like you guys are willing to help me out, though! You won’t even let me back down there unless ‘something changes’!” He laid the scorn on thick, watching her close. Even if he thought he had his answer, he wanted to press just a little more, just to be certain.

“Has anything changed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Her face was set, completely certain she already knew his answer; and what she thought she knew was wrong.

He sagged and stepped back, trying to keep his relief from showing. “No,” he said. “But it’s still hard being the outsider, you know.”

She rolled her eyes, and her tone was dismissive as she said, “My heart bleeds for you. Woe is you, that you don’t get brutalised by monsters on a daily fucking basis.”

“I’m fine with not going through the door, I’m just asking-”

“My answer is still no.” She turned away. “Goodbye, Fundy.”

She left before he could respond. He sighed, brushed himself off, and headed back to the cafeteria, finally letting his smile cross his face.

~

Later that afternoon, as students rushed out the school gates, Fundy sought 5up out to say, “I think I might be up for- for trying to figure stuff out.” He tapped a finger against his arm and saw 5up’s expression light up with realisation.

“Oh, you changed your mind quick!” 5up said. “Can I ask why?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it,” he said, shrugging. “No matter how much I want to ignore it. If I get an answer, maybe that’ll help?”

“Makes sense, makes sense.” 5up nodded to himself, glancing down the hall – there were a few students milling about, though most had left the school already. Fundy himself should really be leaving soon, otherwise he’d be late to work. “I think,” 5up continued in a thoughtful tone, “it might be best for you to come down the paths with me tomorrow. I have a few ideas in mind for testing what exactly is up with your magic or supposed lack thereof.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, stomach rolling at the thought of going back through the door. “When would that be?”

“Depends on your schedule!”

“I definitely can’t do after school,” he said. “I… don’t really want to do it at lunch, though? I mean, I don’t want to risk running into Jack and Hafu – I don’t think they’re going to be happy to see me down there again.”

“I’m not doing anything before school, though,” 5up said, wrinkling his nose. “Just putting that out there.”

“Well, are there any other options?”

5up tilted his head as he thought. “If we can’t do lunch or after or before school, then I guess all that leaves is either during class or… we could come by much later? Hafu’s going to have questions – I think lunch would be best, honestly.”

He grimaced. “It’s not like this is going to be more than one trip through the door-”

“It might be.”

“But if it’s not,” he said, “I don’t want to- to get into another argument with Jack over it! Would…” He paused, trying to figure out what options were left. “Could we just do it during class?”

An amused smile tugged at 5up’s lips. He folded his arms and looked up at Fundy, slowly letting it spread across his face. “I’m a member of the student council,” he said. “You’re really asking me, of all people, to skip class with you?”

Maybe not his smartest idea. “Later, then!” he said hurriedly.

“Which means I’m going to have to tell Hafu what’s going on anyway ‘cause she’s going to wonder why I’m leaving the house at, like, nine or ten o’clock at night, and if I’m telling Hafu, we might as well just do it at lunch.”

“No, ‘cause… ‘cause Jack wouldn’t know!” he said, his voice slipping into a whine. “So, I mean, if it’s a choice between Hafu knowing or Hafu and Jack knowing, I think the first option’s better!”

“And how upset is Jack likely to be when he finds out you went behind his back?”

That was a good point, but not a point Fundy wanted to consider. He shook his head. “Just- forget it, then! I gotta go.” He turned away, checking the time on his phone – he’d have to rush to catch the bus.

“You’re really just dropping it?” 5up asked, keeping pace with him. “Just like that?”

“I really am! I can deal with not knowing – better that than Hafu and Jack finding out about my stupid imaginary dog bite.” As much as he intended his words to be a joke, his agitation bubbled up, darkening his tone.

“They won’t know about that, though! I promise I wouldn’t tell them; I can just invite you down there as my guest and-”

“And they’ll both get pissy at me for going through the door when they specifically told me not to.” He paused at the school exit and, feeling bad for snapping at 5up, he took a deep breath and tried again to soften his tone as he added, “It’s just not worth losing Jack as a friend and- and getting Hafu on my case again. I’ll pass! See you around.”

“But-”

He waved 5up off and left, trying to shake off the worst of his mood before he caught up with Jack and Ranboo at the bus stop. Thinking that would be the end of it, he tried to turn his focus to work and his friends.

But it wasn’t even an hour before he saw 5up again, as he and Hafu entered the shop, much to Fundy’s surprise. Hafu avoided his gaze and went over to the pre-packaged treats while 5up came right up to the counter. He nodded at Jack, who was glaring suspiciously at him, and at Ranboo, who’d been trying to do his homework but took a moment to return 5up’s nod, before greeting Fundy cheerfully.

“Sorry for distracting you at work,” he said, bracing his elbows against the counter and leaning forward, “but I realised when our earlier conversation got cut short that I didn’t actually have your number!”

“Oh, right.”

“Wait, what were you guys talking about earlier?” Jack asked as Fundy pulled his phone out.

“I’m still trying to strongarm Fundy into coming down the paths,” 5up said. “I-”

Fundy handed 5up his phone before he could say anything more. “Put your contact in and I’ll text you.”

“Great, thanks!”

“You’re not going down the paths, though,” Jack said, staring intently at Fundy. “Right? You’re not.”

“I don’t want to,” he said, which was at least somewhat honest.

5up handed the phone back. “I still think you guys threw the towel in too quickly when it came to testing him. I mean, the trinkets alone are-”

Hafu approached then, a few items picked out that she placed before Fundy – he noticed Puffy watching them over her shoulder, but he ignored her for the time being as he started ringing Hafu up. To 5up, she said, “Are you done? Can we go?”

“You do need to pay.”

“Well yes, of course I need to pay,” she said, waving him off. “I mean, are you done with whatever you wanted to talk to Fundy specifically about? Because I don’t think anyone here is comfortable with this.”

“Hafu!” Jack said suddenly, cutting off whatever 5up had been about to say and leaning forward to catch her eye. “Can you convince 5up to stop trying to get Fundy to go down the paths?”

“I can’t convince 5up to do anything.”

“But you’re the boss, aren’t you?”

“It’s obvious you’re an only child,” 5up said in an undertone, covering his smile with his hand.

Hafu shot 5up a glare as Fundy read her total out. 5up took the bag off the counter and she handed the money over, saying to Jack, “I really don’t know what you expect me to do. I’ve made my stance clear. If 5up wants to drag Fundy into a dangerous situation and if Fundy wants to follow, that’s their problem. Short of breaking Fundy’s leg, there’s not really any way I can stop them.”

“Please don’t break my leg,” Fundy said, counting out her change.

“What’s this about breaking Fundy’s leg?” Niki asked from behind Fundy and he froze. She stepped up to the counter and said to 5up and Hafu, “I hope you’re not causing trouble.”

Hafu straightened, eyes wide. “Oh, no, we’re not- We know Fundy from school, and-”

She cut herself off, struggling to give a good explanation; it occurred to Fundy that it would be very easy for him to throw her under the bus here, and they all knew it. She couldn’t even say they were friends, because it would take only a few words from Fundy to reveal the truth. Though she still didn’t look at him, he knew she was waiting to see what he said. It was a strange position to be in. He didn’t like it.

“It was a joke,” Fundy said quickly, giving Hafu her change. “It’s fine, really!”

Niki looked up at him, and he saw her stern look soften into one of concern. “Are you sure? Puffy said it looked like you guys were arguing.”

He supposed he should be thankful that Puffy had told Niki instead of intervening herself. He was definitely thankful that Niki had managed to avoid hearing Hafu’s mention of a dangerous situation, as that surely would have raised questions. As it was, he could force a smile to play it off, saying, “I’m sure! They’re- or, um, 5up is a friend, and they’re… they’re definitely not bullies, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She turned back to the others, smiling once again. “Sorry for the interruption, then! Um-” She paused, smile faltering. “Jack, are you okay?”

“I’m fantastic,” Jack said sourly, glowering at the counter.

Hafu grimaced slightly, eyes darting towards Jack, before giving Niki a polite smile. “We’ll just go! Thank you for the food.”

5up caught Fundy’s eye and mouthed ‘text me’ before following Hafu from the shop. Once they were gone, Jack slumped, dropping his head into his hands.

“Jack?” Niki asked, stepping past Ranboo – who was still bent over his homework, though his pen hadn’t moved in a while and his shoulders were hunched – to round the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said sharply.

Niki’s brow creased as she considered him. After a moment, she lifted her gaze to meet Fundy’s. “Who were those two?” she asked carefully. “And should I ban them from the shop?”

“They’re student council,” Fundy said, glancing at Jack. “We’re not- I mean, 5up and I are friends, but generally things, um, aren’t great with them? But they’re not- they weren’t causing trouble-”

“They don’t have to cause trouble to get banned,” Niki said. “If it would make you guys more comfortable, then it’d be worth doing.”

He looked at Jack again – he hadn’t moved – and said, “I… think it’s up to Jack.”

Jack took a deep breath before standing up, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Nah, it’s fine,” he said, flashing a grin at Niki. “I can cope.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” she said, her mouth pinched.

“I’m just in a mood today,” he said, gathering his bag from the floor. “But it really is fine, really!”

She nodded slowly, still not seeming convinced but accepting his answer nonetheless. “I’ll head back through, then,” she said, turning back to Fundy. “Let me know if you need anything?”

“Will do,” he promised.

Once she was gone, Jack stayed only long enough to say, “Don’t fucking do it,” to Fundy before also leaving.

“Is Jack… okay?” Ranboo asked, staring after him.

Fundy shrugged, figuring it wasn’t his place to say, and they lapsed into silence.

~

Fundy: Fundy, texting you

He sent the message while on the bus on his way to Schlatt’s. He hadn’t expected an immediate response, just wanting to get it out of the way before he forgot, but his phone buzzed before he could even put it back in his pocket.

5up: 5up, texting back
5up: Sorry about earlier, hope things weren’t too awkward after we left!

Glancing out the window to check he wasn’t near his stop, Fundy tapped out a response.

Fundy: it was a bit of a nightmare, honestly. Niki nearly banned you guys cus you upset Jack
5up: That would be unfortunate, the snacks Hafu bought are delicious
5up: Is the baker taking on an apprentice, do you know?
Fundy: don’t think so, and i don’t think she’d take you specifically on even if she were
Fundy: again, the upsetting Jack thing really didn’t put you on Niki’s good side
5up: That’s fair, that’s fair
Fundy: also i’m a bit busy atm, can we talk later?
5up: Oh, are you still working?
Fundy: no, visiting someone
5up: Whenabouts are you likely to be free?
5up: I have an idea regarding the paths situation and would like to discuss

Fundy considered the message and then checked the window again. He’d probably be fine for a couple minutes longer.

Fundy: i could talk quickly now, is it gonna be long?
5up: Not really!
5up: I was thinking Tubbo could take you down to the paths this evening, assuming that’s okay with you both
5up: He would know all the tests I would want to try out – I’ll be honest, most of them were his idea to begin with
5up: And that way Hafu won’t have questions about where I’m going since I’m not going anywhere!
5up: Obviously don’t let anyone catch you sneaking into the school, but I’m sure you could manage that
5up: Again.
5up: How does that sound?

He read through the messages a few times. It didn’t seem like a great plan, too risky by far – Tubbo was going to be guiding him, really? – but he decided to at least ask a few more questions and mull them over properly before coming to a decision.

Fundy: is that safe?
5up: About as safe as only having me to look after you!
5up: Tubbo’s a tough cookie, I’m sure he’d be fine as your bodyguard
Fundy: but he’s not going to want to go down there basically alone at night, right?
5up: He said he’d be fine with something similar when I asked
5up: Obviously if he’s not okay, we’ll figure something else out!
Fundy: but is it more dangerous at night?
5up: I don’t believe so!
5up: Hafu and I sometimes go after school hours and it doesn’t seem that different one way or the other
5up: Granted, we’ve never been down late-late, but as I said – tough cookie! You guys should be fine!

He chewed on his lip, one question in particular weighing on his mind.

Fundy: how much have you told him?
5up: Nothing about the bite, promise!
5up: We’ve talked a little about your whole magicless deal a few times and brainstormed different ideas for figuring out what’s going on
5up: One of those was the adrenaline theory, which I believed he’s tested with you?
5up: I’ve given him no additional information since our conversation yesterday
5up: But he’s already conceptually on board with the testing, so all that’s left is your decision

The thing that seemed clearest from the messages was that 5up was confident in this plan. His answers to Fundy’s questions came through quickly, stripping away his reasons for turning the idea down – and, honestly, there was a not insignificant part of Fundy that wanted to agree, if only because it was the best opportunity for answers he’d been given. Coming to a quick decision, he swallowed his nervousness and sent his response.

Fundy: fine, let’s do this
5up: Oke! I’ll let Tubbo know and I presume you can just discuss the when yourselves
Fundy: sounds good
5up: Enjoy your visit :)
Fundy: thanks, talk later

That was it, then. There was no going back now.

He soon reached his stop and continued on to Schlatt’s. It was almost easy to fall into the typical routine, with Schlatt acting the same as he always did and this house as stagnant as it always was, but the conversation with 5up was too recent, taking up the bus ride he’d usually spend dragging his mind away from work and letting it settle on all this instead. Maybe that was why, when Schlatt asked how his day had gone – the question falling into the comfortable silence as they each got their drinks, the sky aflame through the window – instead of talking about school as he usually did, he asked, “Do you remember when we met?”

Schlatt stiffened slightly, then barked out a sound that might have been a laugh and shook his head. “I’d be surprised if you did,” he said, turning his attention back to the coffeemaker. “You were, what, two years old?”

“Something like that,” he said with a shrug – truthfully, he didn’t remember much.

“Why’d you ask?”

He traced his fingers over the scar, knowing he couldn’t tell the truth here. “I, uh, visited a friend at the weekend and he had some dogs,” he said instead. “They kinda spooked me. It was weird, ‘cause they were so well-behaved and I was just-” He pulled a mock-frightened expression, eyes wide and hands up, and Schlatt gave another laugh, though Fundy thought it sounded a little forced. He dropped his hands and curled them around his mug. “I just, uh, didn’t realise I was that scared of dogs – I mean, Techno’s are terrifying, so I get why I’m scared of them, but… well, yeah. It got me thinking.”

“Well,” Schlatt said, “if you didn’t have a dog phobia before that point, I reckon it’d be enough to give you one. I mean, that was fucking terrifying for everyone; you were crying your head off and the fucking beast was snapping at anyone that came near-”

“Were you scared?”

Schlatt raised an eyebrow at him. “How would you feel if you were just walking through the woods and suddenly heard a child screaming bloody murder?”

“Children scream a lot, to be fair.” His childhood was filled with the sounds of Tommy screaming, from nightmares just as easily as from laughter.

“Doesn’t make it any more pleasant to hear,” he said, lip curling in a sneer. He turned away as he continued, “Look, why are you even asking about it? It can’t be any fun to think about.”

“But it didn’t hurt me, though, did it?” He’d always been certain it hadn’t, but with this strange scar on his arm, he needed to hear the words from Schlatt’s own mouth. As he waited for Schlatt’s answer, he found himself holding his breath.

“It didn’t, and you’re damn lucky it didn’t,” he said, staring down at his cup. “Do you know how many stitches I had to get for that bite?”

“No.”

Schlatt snorted. “Well, neither do I, as it happens. I got blackout drunk for about the next month-” His gaze cut to Fundy, giving him a familiar hard look. “Don’t ever drink, okay? It fucking sucks.”

He couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. “No, really? I thought drinking was a great idea! It’s only like I’ve found you passed out in your own vomit twenty times, that’s not so bad.”

That hard look turned to a glare. “Alright, smartass,” he said, “if you’re going to give me that fucking cheek, why don’t I just send you back to your old man, huh?”

A chill swept down his spine and his stomach dropped. “You wouldn’t,” he said, a weak protest.

“I wouldn’t,” Schlatt said, waving him off, and Fundy could breathe again. “But you probably should leave. I mean, you said it yourself: you found me passed out in my own vomit twenty fucking times – why the fuck do you keep coming around?”

The answer was rooted in that ephemeral afternoon – the memory arose, unbidden, of Schlatt telling him not to cry – but it was hard to put it into words when he remembered so little, and when so much time had passed between then and now. “You’ve been… nice,” he said, looking away. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Nice,” Schlatt said. He was laughing again. “I think you might be the first person to describe me like that.”

“You got me glow-in-the-dark stars.”

Schlatt’s laughter died, and the room seemed oddly hollow in its wake. When he glanced up at Schlatt, he found him wearing an odd expression that took Fundy right back to being eight years old and asking what the playground was. “Now that’s just sad,” he said. Fundy couldn’t disagree.

It felt like an eternity passed before Schlatt sighed and opened the fridge. He asked what Fundy wanted for dinner, and the evening finally returned to normal.

~

When Fundy got home, he glanced towards Tubbo and found that he’d already shot to his feet. Tubbo rushed up the stairs, giving Fundy a look of impatience as he took his things off, though he kept his shoes and jacket in hand, checking the others weren’t paying attention. They were all still talking, had barely even noticed Fundy’s arrival and Tubbo’s departure – except for Tommy, of course, who gave Fundy a typical glare – so Fundy wasted no more time in following Tubbo.

Tubbo led him into his and Tommy’s room, barely waiting until the door was closed to ask, “Have you talked to Cup, then?”

Fundy nodded, then paused. “Why do you call him ‘Cup’?”

“That’s what it looks like,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Now, when do you want to break into the school?”

He checked the time on his phone. It was nearly eight, the same time he’d snuck out on his first trip to the door. “It might be better to go later,” he said. “Once everyone’s in bed, so Wil doesn’t notice anything.”

“I might vibrate out of my skin if you ask me to wait that long,” Tubbo said, completely deadpan. “Why can’t we just go now?”

“Wil caught me sneaking back in last time-”

“So just be better at sneaking back in!”

He glared at Tubbo, adding, “And he’d already known that I’d snuck out. He was, like, waiting for me.”

“Oh, okay.” Tubbo frowned in thought for a moment, then pulled his phone out. “I’ll ask Tommy to cover for us!”

“No, that won’t- He wouldn’t-”

“He said it’s fine,” Tubbo said, putting his phone away again. His expression became eager as he grabbed Fundy’s arm and dragged him towards the door. “Come on, come on, let’s go!”

“Woah, wait, hold on!” He twisted out of Tubbo’s grip, ignoring his pout, and asked, “What, are you just planning on walking out the front door?”

“No, obviously not. You can teach me some cool hardcore parkour way of sneaking out, right?”

He looked Tubbo up and down. “You don’t have any shoes.”

Tubbo looked down at his own socked feet, wearing a look of faint surprise. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Okay, well, I can just head down and grab ‘em, can’t I? They’re not going to notice!”

“They probably would.” He scanned the bookshelf of knickknacks beside him and was unsurprised to see a few pairs of trainers, one of which seemed to be in Tubbo’s size. He pointed at them and asked, “Are those yours?”

“I don’t think they’re anyone’s, I stole them from the lost and found,” Tubbo said, grabbing them anyway. “Oh, they’re my size!”

“Great, wear those and we can use the window in my room. Come on.”

“This is so cool,” Tubbo said in what was probably meant to be a hushed tone. “I’ve never snuck out of the house before! Oh, I’m being all rebellious and shit, I’m a rebellious teen, this is awesome-”

Fundy pressed a finger to his lips and paused at the top of the stairs, listening to the hubbub below. They were all still talking. He pulled the ladder down and led Tubbo up, making sure the trap door was shut tight before they went over to the window. He pushed it open and dropped the rope ladder out, then turned back to Tubbo.

“Could you pack this away before coming down?” he asked.

“Are you asking me to just jump out the window?” Tubbo gave him a very unimpressed look. “Not even climb down? Bearing in mind that if I get horribly terribly injured doing this, I will scream.”

“You can just float down, don’t be a baby.”

Tubbo maintained his stony expression for all of two seconds before it split in a bright grin. “Yeah, I know! Okay, let’s do this!”

Fundy rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, saying, “This will drop us down the side of the house – stick close to the building when you fall, it helps hide you from the road.”

Tubbo, who was still grinning with excitement, nodded sharply. Fundy climbed out. The coast was clear when he reached the bottom of the ladder, so he gave Tubbo a thumbs up and stepped away. The ladder was quickly pulled back up. A moment later, Tubbo clambered over the sill, taking the time to push the window mostly shut before drifting down. He landed with a lightness that Fundy envied.

Fundy glanced towards the street again as Tubbo brushed himself off. “Now, the curtains on the front windows should be drawn, so we can just walk past,” he said. “I’ll go first to check, okay?”

“Okay!”

He stepped past the corner of the building and looked towards the windows, relieved to see they were indeed covered by curtains. He strode out onto the street and Tubbo joined him, a bounce in his step.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked Tubbo.

“Are you talking about when we get to the school or with the whole magic thing?”

“The second one.”

“Okay,” Tubbo said, “the main thing I wanted to test was your ability to use magic doodads – I still haven’t been able to steal any, but if we go to them, then that’s fine! And Hafu said that all her old friends-” He paused, glancing up at Fundy. “You know about her old friends?”

“Who didn’t have magic but helped out with the monsters, yeah.”

“Yeah, that! And she said that they were all able to use the things no problem, so seeing whether you can will… well, I don’t know if it’ll help us figure out what the fuck your deal is,” he said with a laugh, “but it’ll give us some answers!”

“What if I can’t use them?” he asked, staring resolutely at the street ahead.

“Then that’ll be interesting!” Tubbo said with not a trace of shame. “Like, that wouldn’t make sense at all, and that’s cool as fuck! I mean- okay, like, I don’t know if it ‘wouldn’t make sense’, to be fair, because we really don’t know anything about anything, but the way we learn is by trying things, right? So we can try things and see what happens and we’ll know more than we do now! And hopefully we can find some cool-arse weapon for you to use.”

“I don’t know if I want a weapon-”

“It’d be best.” Tubbo said the words abruptly, expression open but distant. Gone was his excitement, replaced with a tight smile and blank eyes. It was a mood Fundy recognised – one of Tubbo trying very hard to avoid thinking about something upsetting. It wasn’t hard to guess what.

“Right,” he said after a beat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “With the whole- yeah. Okay.” He paused. “Does it have to be magic, though?”

“It’d be cool if it was.”

“But Hafu would probably have a fit, wouldn’t she?”

Tubbo shrugged, still wearing that strange not-smile. “I don’t think she’d put her foot down if you needed it for… for self-defence, though.”

“She doesn’t want me to go down the paths at all,” he said. “So, I’d have to argue that case before anything else.”

“Well…” Tubbo trailed off.

“But, like, is it magic that’s needed to-” He paused as they passed two people walking hand-in-hand. “To kill them?”

“I suppose not,” Tubbo said thoughtfully. “Blunt force trauma seems to work well enough, and stabbing and slicing – they do seem real scared of Tommy’s sword, but I don’t know if that’s because glowy or sword or Tommy loud.”

“That… huh.” He considered that fact with a vague unease. “Do they really get scared?”

“Wary, maybe? They try to avoid him now.”

“I’ve never actually seen a monster,” he said, trying to match Tubbo’s casual tone. “I, uh, kind of imagined them to be mindless.”

“But Cup told you about how they watch, right?” Tubbo said. “Out here?”

“Yeah. I just- I don’t know.”

Tubbo nodded, as though that had been an acceptable answer, and the rest of their walk passed in silence.

When they got to the school, they found the street outside it dark and deserted, just as it had been last time – darker, even, as it was later in the year. Fundy gave the front gate a wide berth as he searched for a better entry point, hoping to avoid the camera he’d been caught on last time to be safe. There was a little alley off to the left of the school that served their purposes well, and Tubbo used his powers to float both of them over, which Fundy had to admit was a lot easier than climbing again.

Fundy started walking towards the door and Tubbo hurried after, his head snapping back and forth as he scanned their surroundings. “I feel like we should be sneaking or something,” Tubbo said, tugging the collar of his shirt up. “Are you sure we won’t be spotted?”

“Sneaking will only draw more attention, on the off chance someone does look in,” he said. “People aren’t going to pay much attention to what’s inside the fence, so we’ve just gotta go quick and walk normally, so no one thinks twice.”

“But what about cameras?”

“There’s one over the gate,” he said, pointing towards it. “I think the rest are all around the school building itself. That gate one was the only one I was caught on last time – I think – so we should be fine.”

“Oh, okay.” And, to Fundy’s relief, he stopped fidgeting with his shirt.

They reached the door only a moment later. “Here we are,” Fundy said. It was maybe a stupid thing to say, as Tubbo knew this door better than he did, but it felt like he should say something. “So, uh, do we just… go in?”

“Pretty much,” Tubbo said. He stepped past Fundy and opened the door, peering into the inky blackness beyond. “It’s just straight forward. I don’t have a light except my phone, and that’s too bright, so we’ve just got to keep walking. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“If we get attacked, you should… drop to the floor or something. Play dead.” He looked over his shoulder at Fundy, gaze distant again. “I’ll handle the monsters, alright?”

“Right.” He was regretting this more and more with every word.

“Stay silent, and keep walking.” And with those tremendously comforting final words, he stepped through the door.

It was strange to be back here. Fundy slowly closed the door behind him, shutting out the last of the light, and blinked into the darkness as though that would make it part. The darkness remained resolute. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his hand against a wall and slowly edged down the steps. Tubbo had long since been swallowed up by the shadows and he could only hope he hadn’t gone too far ahead.

He bumped into something warm at the bottom of the stairs, quickly revealed to be Tubbo as he said, “Good, you didn’t fall down the stairs and die! Let’s go.”

The tunnel felt longer than last time, though that might have just been Fundy’s mind playing tricks on him. He ran his hand along the gritty texture of the wall and counted his steps until he lost count, taking shallow breaths to try and keep from disturbing the suffocating silence. Every now and again, he’d reach out to graze his fingers against the back of Tubbo’s shirt, reassuring himself that he wasn’t alone. When they reached the intersection, he held the back of Tubbo’s collar loosely – it was a sign of how scared Tubbo was to make noise that his only reaction was a slight stutter in his step. He released it as soon as his fingers found the wall again.

And then, finally, there seemed to be a lightening of the shadows. He could vaguely distinguish Tubbo’s silhouette from the darkness around it – he blinked, hard, and looked again, and it was even clearer than before. He let his hand drop from the wall, trusting that they were nearly there.

“Here we are,” Tubbo said a minute or so later as the glow became more apparent, and Fundy could see him turn to look over his shoulder, though he couldn’t yet make out Tubbo’s expression. “Hafu and Cup call it the sanctuary, ‘cause it’s the safe place.”

“How’s it safe?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t know, and I don’t think they do either.”

They stepped into a room Fundy somewhat recognised – he definitely recognised the tables and chairs within, the exact same in every classroom in the school. He trailed his fingers along the edge of a table, wondering how they’d come to be down here.

“How much gum is under these?” he asked Tubbo.

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s fucking gross! Why would you even ask that?”

“I was just wondering!” He rapped a knuckle against the table before stepping back. “I mean, they’re from the school, aren’t they? I was just curious if they were, like, used or not.” He didn’t remember any desks going missing from classrooms, so they might have been new, stolen from a storeroom. It was weird to think about either way.

“And you asked about gum.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re disgusting,” he said flatly before going through one of the archways, putting a definite stop to that conversation. Fundy followed.

The new room was larger than the last, the walls lined with shelves all the way up to the ceiling – or very high, at least, as the ceiling itself was shadowy and hard to make out. This room, like the room before, was bright and warm, with flames dancing in shallow bowls along the walls. When Fundy inspected one, he found that there was nothing inside – no oil, no wood, no recognisable fuel at all – though he thought he could make out something drawn on the bottom of the bowl. In the centre of the room was a table that looked more well-suited to this kind of place than the school tables, as it was made from the same stone as the room itself, simply rising up out of the ground and forming a flat surface. A bowl of fruit sat atop it, for some strange reason. Fundy thought it would probably be a bad idea to eat any.

The shelves carried all manner of different items, too many for Fundy to comprehend, so he turned his attention back to Tubbo and asked, “What now?”

“These,” Tubbo said, holding his arms out, “are all the magic artefacts! Or that’s the fancy name Cup uses for them, anyway.”

He folded his hands behind his back to try and keep himself from fiddling with them all. “And what kind of things do they do?”

“So much! And a lot of them, we don’t know – Hafu doesn’t like me just experimenting with them, she’s all worried we’ll get hurt, but- Right, see this?” He picked up a small pouch and showed it to Fundy, running his finger along a looping design that had been stitched on it. “Pretty much everything in this room has one of these designs on them, and that seems to be the, like, magic symbol to make it do magic stuff!”

“Like the lights,” Fundy said, figuring that what he’d seen in the bowls was probably something like this.

“Like- huh?” Tubbo stared blankly at him.

“The… lights?” He pointed towards the flickering flames. “I saw something in the bottom of the bowls, is that not…?”

Tubbo went over to one of the lights and did a little hop, hanging in the air at the top of his jump. With this new height, he was able to peer down into the bowl. “Oh, wow!” he said. “I never even thought about how these might work! Yeah, that’s one of these thingies! The- the designs!” He fell back down. With a thoughtful expression, he said, “I wonder if there’s a way to disable it?”

“Do you want to disable the lights?” Fundy asked. “I mean, I like being able to see, personally!”

“No, ‘cause, like- okay, there are other trinkets over there,” he gestured to another set of shelves, “that also do fire-related things, and I really really really want to know how similar the designs are, because their designs are all kind of similar to each other, but the differences are the interesting part! I mean, with the same kind of loop-de-loops, you can make either a fire,” he pointed up at the light again, then reached into the pouch he was still holding and pulled out, of all things, a bowling ball, “or some kind of bag of holding, or whatever they’re called. You can put just about anything in here and it’ll fit!”

“I…” Fundy looked between the bag and the ball a few times before admitting, “Okay, that’s pretty cool.”

“I know, right? This is real fun; I’ve been testing a lot of things with it.” The bowling ball flew up to the ceiling and smashed into something. Fundy quickly stepped back, in case something fell down, but Tubbo remained where he was as he fished about in the pouch again. This time he retrieved a couple of eggs, which he held precariously in one hand. “Look at that!” he said, holding them out. “The bowling ball didn’t crack them at all!”

“Why were you testing that?”

The eggs fell to the ceiling too, and Fundy heard them crack. He pitied whoever would end up cleaning the ceiling, especially since they probably wouldn’t think to do so until the eggs started rotting. “I wanted to see if heavy items would make the bag heavier – they didn’t – and I wanted to see if the things I put in there would affect each other – and they don’t!” Tubbo pulled out a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. “I ran a few other tests too,” he said, eyes skipping across the page before he suddenly looked morose. “Unfortunately, living things don’t do so great. I stuck my head in there and couldn’t breathe at all.”

“That just sounds like a bad idea, honestly.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see if other things would live in there!” He turned the pouch upside down and shook it as he continued, “I wanted to just have a bag of bees to unleash on people, but it seems like they’d just die, and I didn’t want to test with actual bees, obviously.”

He pulled a face. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he said.

“My tests on whether there’s a limit to the amount of stuff you can put in them is inconclusive,” Tubbo said, righting the pouch and dipping his hand back in. This time he pulled out a palmful of water, his entire hand soaked. “And it can hold liquids!”

“How much water did you put in there?”

“I left the tap running overnight.” He poured the water back in. “I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to completely drain the oceans.”

“Why would you even want to do that, though?” Fundy asked.

“To see if I could.” He put the pouch back on the shelf and then opened his jacket, revealing a familiar design stitched to the inside of his pocket. “The best thing that I’ve learned, though, is that you can copy it, and it even works!”

“Oh, wow.” Fundy picked up the pouch and traced the design. It didn’t seem that hard to replicate. “Are there any tricks to it?” he asked.

“Hm…” Tubbo frowned in thought for a moment before his face lit up. “Oh – actually, maybe. So, like, I stitched it in, right? And it didn’t do anything? But then I tapped it – the design – and felt it… Well, it felt kind of like how it does when I use my magic, and only after that it actually started working. But I haven’t had any magic drain with it otherwise, so it’s probably that it needs magic for activation?”

“Right,” he said, trying to push aside his instinctive bitterness as he carefully placed the pouch back down. “So, I probably couldn’t, then.”

“That’s what we’re here to test!” Tubbo flipped through his notebook, turning towards another shelf as he said, “Sorry, I did kind of get side-tracked there, but, um… Right, yes, let’s start with this!” He picked up a crystal, about the length of Fundy’s hand and half as wide, which had a similar design to the bag carved into it, though Fundy couldn’t see it clearly enough to pick out the differences.

“What is it?”

“I’ll be honest, I’ve got absolutely no clue,” Tubbo said. He pressed his thumb against a circular carving and the whole crystal gave off a faint glow which flickered every now and again, like a heartbeat. “It draws on my magic as long as I’m touching this, but I don’t really get what it’s using it for, if anything – maybe the light? Seems awfully weak, though. But if you can do that, we’ll know if you have magic!” And he tossed the crystal to Fundy.

He caught it, heart hammering – it wasn’t glowing now, so he turned it over in his hands, trying to spot the circular bit that Tubbo had touched. A part of him was scared to try, even though this was exactly what he’d come down here for.

“You said earlier that the non-magic people could use the magic trinkets,” he said to Tubbo.

“I did!”

“What happened when they used this?”

He shrugged. “Hafu didn’t remember specifically,” he said. “Once they figured out some weapons and how they worked, they stuck to those – they couldn’t come down here, see, so Hafu just brought a few things up for them to test, and the things that wouldn’t be helpful against the monsters were brought back down. But Hafu said that there wasn’t any real difference that she could remember between them using the trinkets and her using the trinkets, so probably it was the same glowy thing.”

“There are an awful lot of guesses in all this, I’m noticing,” Fundy said, forcing a grin. He’d found the circle now and was just stalling for a little longer.

“Yep!” Tubbo said, holding the notebook aloft. “This is the sum of all the knowledge we have on magic.”

“And it’s written by a dyslexic fifteen-year-old.”

“That is correct!” He flipped to a new page, pulling a pen from his pocket too. “So, there isn’t any right or wrong with this,” he continued, “it really is just all new information. And maybe we can fit that information together in some way that can give you magic! Or make things explode – that’s one of my other main goals.”

He stared blankly at Tubbo. “I don’t want to explode, though.”

“You probably won’t.”

Tubbo gave Fundy a thumbs-up that just made him more nervous and then put his pen to the paper, staring intently at the crystal. With a silent sigh, Fundy pressed his thumb to it.

It stayed dull. No matter how much he’d tried to prepare himself for this possibility, Fundy’s shoulders slumped as disappointment settled hot and heavy in his chest. He avoided Tubbo’s gaze and set the crystal back on the shelf.

Oblivious to Fundy’s upset, Tubbo wrote something in his notebook and said, “That- Okay, but that’s not really proof of anything still, one way or the other – let’s try the weaponry!”

“How is that not proof?” Fundy asked, following Tubbo to a new set of shelves anyway. “And- wait, is it really a good idea to try the dangerous stuff?”

“This is all the stuff Hafu and Cup remember other people using.” He waved the pen towards the shelves, a slight furrow in his brow as he looked between the notebook page and the items. “We can get a more accurate comparison this way! Let’s try… this!” Tubbo picked up an engraved stone, the perfect shape for skipping across the water, and pushed it into Fundy’s hands. “If you hold that up, aim this part out the door, then just think about firing a kind of magic energy blast thing? And you should feel that pull on your magic if it works.” He stepped back, shrugging. “I mean, there’ll also be a scorch mark on the wall if it works.”

He quickly turned the part Tubbo had pointed at away, staring at Tubbo with wide eyes and trying to think about anything other than shooting magic energy blasts. “Uh- no, wait, is there anything less dangerous I could test out?”

“Ugh, fine.” Tubbo rolled his eyes as he took the stone back and put it on the shelf. “Okay, do you want fire stabby? Fire shooty? Sword that bleeds? Gun?”

“Gun?”

“Gun!” He picked up- yep, that was an actual literal gun right there, holy shit. Tubbo waved it around, his finger dangerously close to the trigger, and Fundy grabbed it out of Tubbo’s hands and put it on a higher shelf. “Hey, why’d you do that?” Tubbo asked, sounding very put out.

“Are you serious?” he asked, tone edging towards hysteria. “It’s a fucking gun!” He wiped his hands on his trousers, eyes darting up to the shelf. “What- what’s even magic about a gun?”

“It only has one bullet but can be fired repeatedly without using that bullet up,” Tubbo said, returning his attention to the items before him. “Oh, this is one is fine! It’s the teleporty knife.” He held it up with a grin. “You can use it to go from here,” he sliced it through the air and was suddenly on the other side of the room, the knife glowing and seeming to hum with energy, “to here!” He teleported back and held it out. “Here, you try!”

That didn’t seem too bad. Fundy took a deep breath to try and calm himself down before taking the knife. “How do I use it?”

“Focus on where you want to go, swing, and vwoop!”

“Okay.” He reckoned he could do that. He stared at the point Tubbo had teleported to, trying to imagine himself appearing there as Tubbo had, and swung the knife through the air. It wasn’t that surprising this time when, again, nothing happened, but there was still another dull sting of disappointment. He handed the knife to Tubbo.

“That is weird,” Tubbo said as he put it back. “One of Hafu’s friends used that for a year and didn’t have any problems – he even felt the draw from his chest, y’know, behind the ribs.” He stepped in front of Fundy and peered up at him with frank curiosity. “You’re weird.”

That disappointment flared up into irritation. “Thanks,” he said acidly. “Did you actually have any other tests, or do you just want to keep making me do nothing?”

“Hey, this is very informative-”

“It’s also fucking embarrassing, Tubbo. I- I don’t think I should have come here-”

“Wait, let- can we try just one more thing?” When Fundy nodded, albeit with some reluctance, Tubbo ran back to the first shelf and grabbed the bag of holding to bring over. “Try pulling water out of here,” he said, holding it out.

Fundy hesitated – he really didn’t know if he could cope with yet another dud – but Tubbo just kept holding it out, so Fundy gathered his courage and shoved his hand in. He jumped when his fingers brushed what felt like the surface of a pool. It certainly felt real, but it was hard to trust his own senses – after the dog bite, he couldn’t really be sure of anything. He pushed his hand deeper, past the point where the pouch should have ended, and cupped his hand before drawing it back out.

He stared at his hand, at the palmful of water that caught the firelight, running in rivulets down his wrist to soak his sleeve. Tubbo’s face lit up.

“Okay!” he said, grabbing Fundy’s hands to peer closer at the water. “Okay, so- so the ones that require magic to activate, you can use no problem! It’s just the ones that require repeated activation – or however they work – that you can’t!” He rocked back on his heels, looking towards the shelves again. “Well, now I’m really curious what would happen if you used the magic gun. Would you use up the bullet? Or would it just not fire?”

“Let’s not test that,” Fundy said, pulling his hand back and shaking the water off.

“I’ll get you a bag of your own,” Tubbo said suddenly, staring up at Fundy with earnest eyes. “That’ll be something you can actually use – and it’s not a weapon, so Hafu can’t really argue you shouldn’t have it. Or if you’d rather bottomless pockets, that’s fine, I can just bully Tommy into putting it on whatever. Okay?”

He just stared at Tubbo for a moment, touched by his offer. “Okay.”

“And I’ll figure the rest of these out, too.” Tubbo turned and frowned at the room. “If there’s anything else that you might be able to use, I’ll let you know.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“In exchange-”

“I’m not using the gun.”

“Damnit.” He laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief, and Fundy’s shoulders, which had been tense since the gun, relaxed as the tension finally broke. “Fine, no exchanges. Just whatever magic items I can make work.”

Fundy nodded, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together to feel the drying water. It was still hard to believe it was real, but he had been able to use a magic item and might be able to use others. The door between himself and this whole world of magic had been cracked open just a little bit more. “So… how exactly do the bags work?” he asked, figuring it was worth understanding them if he was getting one of his own.

“Thing go in,” Tubbo said, dropping the magic-blast stone into the bag, “and thing come out!” He reached in and pulled it out again, placing it back on the shelf. “Just think of what the thing is and, as long as it’s been put in there, it’ll work! You can even put bottomless bags inside other bottomless bags, which just seems weird to me, but cool!”

“Are the bags linked?” Fundy asked. “Like, could you put something in one and pull it out of the other? ‘Cause that would be weird.”

“I… don’t actually know!” Tubbo shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled nothing out. “I guess not,” he said, frowning down at his hand. “I can’t find the water.”

“I wonder if there is a way to link them,” he said thoughtfully. It seemed like a good way to send things across long distances.

Tubbo brushed his hand off and smiled up at Fundy. “I’ll run some tests and get back to you!”

He rubbed his wrist, grimacing both at the wet cuff and at the embarrassment still churning in his stomach, before making himself ask, “Were there any other tests you wanted to do with- uh, with me or my magic situation or whatever?”

“A couple,” Tubbo said. “Mostly just trying to figure out where the line is between what you can and can’t interact with – going through the door versus using the knife. It’s all very vague and wibbly-wobbly, but this has been some useful info!” He flipped through his notebook and Fundy caught a glimpse of a few covered in the looping designs. If he hadn’t known any better, he probably would have assumed they were just doodles, drawn during a particularly dull class. “Maybe you could make a bag of your own,” he continued, “but- well, that’s something we don’t need these trinkets to figure out, so I don’t really think there’s anything else we need to do right now.”

He glanced towards the magic-blast stone, sitting innocently on the shelf. “What other designs have you tried to replicate?”

“Basically everything.” He shut the book with a snap. “Learned a lot from that too, some very weird and funky stuff going on, but it’s not really helped me with creating my own-”

“Creating your own? And- wait, when you say everything-” He looked at the stone again, and the vast array of other weapons that surrounded it.

“To be fair, most of them didn’t even work! Which, not gonna lie, is just really interesting – a few of them didn’t work when I first copied them but then did work the second time, even though the drawings were, like, exactly the same!” Tubbo was bouncing in place now, eyes sparkling. “And then- look at these!” He showed Fundy one of the pages of doodles. “These are all my actual experiments!”

He examined the page – it looked basically the same as the other ones. “What’s the difference?”

“Well,” Tubbo said, grinning brightly, “there seem to be a few things all the various swirlies have in common, and the ones that do similar things have further similarities – like I mentioned earlier, with the fire things! These are all the fire ones, by the way,” he said, flipping back to another page of doodles, all of which looked near-identical, before turning back to the ‘experiments’. “But nothing I’ve found thus far has done explosions, so I’m trying to take the bits of these that might make explosions and combine them in some way to actually make explosions.” His smile fell as he poked the drawings. “But none of them are doing anything.”

“I mean, that’s good, right?” Fundy said hopefully, though he suspected he already knew Tubbo’s answer. “You don’t want to explode yourself-”

“I absolutely want to explode myself,” Tubbo said, cutting him off.

“That… doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Exactly!” Tubbo beamed at him. “That’s what makes it so fun!”

“No, ‘cause… ‘cause then how’s Tommy going to feel?” he said, which was about all he could say in the face of that extremely concerning statement.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure Cup’ll heal me up.”

“Does 5up know you’re trying to do this?”

“Well…” He closed the notebook, frowning. “No. But- but he’s not just going to not heal me. That’d just be a dick move, really.”

“It sounds like something he should know about,” Fundy said.

Tubbo stared up at him, a mulish set to his mouth. “I helped you with magic stuff, you’re not allowed to tell Cup about my evil science experiments,” he said flatly.

“What happened to ‘no exchanges’?”

“I changed my mind!”

“Okay, but can you actually stop me?”

Tubbo steepled his fingers, a thoughtful frown on his face as his gaze cut to the side. “I can think of many ways to stop you,” he said, “but unfortunately they’d all cause a lot more problems than they’d solve. Barely.”

He took a step back, putting a hand in his pocket and wrapping it around his phone – he didn’t even know if he had service down here. “Y’know, that sounds pretty murdery!” he said, forcing a laugh.

“Nah, only, like… 20% murdery, really.” He paused. “Does it count as murder if I just leave you somewhere you will almost certainly die?”

“Yes!”

“63%, then.” He sighed, dropping his hands. “Fine, tell Cup! Serves me right for telling you in the first place!” And he turned towards the archway, quick enough that Fundy just barely caught his mouth twisting in a genuine frown.

He left his hand on his phone as he followed Tubbo out of the room, struggling with what to say. “Why… why were you doing the experiments, if they’re so dangerous?” was all he could think to ask before they reached the paths again.

“They’re not that dangerous, really,” he said, coming to a halt by the exit. He kept his face turned away, staring out into the darkness, as he spoke. “Cup and Hafu have healed us from a lot. A little explosion shouldn’t be so bad.”

“You don’t know how big it’ll be, though,” Fundy pointed out. He fought the instinctive urge to soften his voice – Tubbo wouldn’t respond well to that – and instead kept his tone as neutral as possible. “Plus, don’t they, like, ration their healing powers? To make sure they’ll have enough for the bad stuff, or the visible stuff? Getting an avoidable injury and then just expecting them to be able to deal with it seems like a dick move, really.”

Tubbo didn’t respond for a while. Eventually, he turned back, just far enough for Fundy to see a sliver of his face and one dark eye. “Hafu’s leaving school this year,” he said. “I don’t know if she’s really got plans for what’s going to happen to us – with this – once she’s gone, but… but one day we’ll all be leaving, right? And maybe there’ll be some other group of kids to pick up where we left off-” He paused to scoff, lip curling. “Kids. Right now, they’d be even younger than me! Younger than Tommy!”

“So, what?” Fundy asked when Tubbo once again fell silent. “You’re hoping to blow yourself up so you don’t have to see that happen? ‘Cause…” The joke he’d been about to say died on his tongue. He swallowed, amended, “That’s dark, man.”

“No, I’m not quite there – yet – but I did want to think about the future.” He put his hands on his hips and once again turned his gaze towards the paths. Instead of thoughtful, he now seemed challenging, shoulders firm and chin held high. “We’re just stumbling blindly through this whole magic thing,” he said, “we don’t understand literally anything, just scrambling about to try and keep from dying – and that’s- that’s fair, this is all very new and fucking scary, but it can’t last forever! That’s why I’m trying to learn as much as I can. I mean,” he turned back, a fire burning in his eyes, “if I can just figure out the explosions, even just that, then I could maybe set up landmines in the paths! Ways of dealing with the monsters that don’t require us! Or maybe a step beyond – maybe I could find a way to fight back properly instead of just dealing with the endless flood! Maybe we could go deeper, follow them back to wherever they’re coming from and- and stop them. Once and for all.” He frowned and asked, “Wouldn’t that be worth it?”

How the fuck was he meant to respond to that? He felt small, weak; he couldn’t even tear his gaze away from Tubbo’s. He reached for a response and found himself asking, “Worth you risking killing yourself?”

Tubbo sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess that’s the question.”

“I can’t answer that,” he said with a nervous laugh. “But- but I like you, Tubbo! I don’t want you to-” He stopped, unable to put words to it again.

“A lot of people want a lot of things,” Tubbo said, as though it was one of the great secrets of life. “Personally, I’d like to not risk getting mauled nearly to death every weekday – it’s bad enough dealing with school!”

“Well… yeah. But is exploding yourself really better?”

“At least that’s my choice.”

They stood there for what felt like an eternity. Fundy felt strange as he looked down at Tubbo, equal parts too old and too young to be having this conversation. How the hell had they ended up here? Was there any path forward that wasn’t fucking awful?

“We should go,” Tubbo said eventually, and this time he pinched Fundy’s sleeve between his forefinger and thumb before starting to walk. Fundy followed without a word.

He stopped when they reached the intersection, and Fundy felt him turn to stare down one of the tunnels, though everything was still nothing but shadows. “That’s strange,” Tubbo said in a quiet voice.

“What is?” Fundy asked.

“Usually you come across at least one monster on the walk back out,” he said. “If they hear you when you enter, they wait for you when you leave. I’m not used to this place being so…” His shoe scraped against the ground as he turned the other way, sounding far too loud. “Empty.”

Fundy glanced towards the tunnels too. “But that’s good, right? I mean, I know I generally prefer not getting attacked by monsters.”

Tubbo turned towards him now. “I generally prefer the monsters being predictable,” he said.

It was impossible to argue with that, and so he didn’t, and, after a moment, they began walking again.

Tubbo released Fundy when they left the tunnels, making his way quickly towards the fence. Fundy lagged behind, glancing back at the door that seemed far too feeble a barrier between literal monsters and the rest of the world, before tilting his head back to look at the sky. It was scattered with a meagre handful of stars, the empty spaces between still brighter than the paths had been. His mind was empty – not peaceful, but more hollow, like the conversation with Tubbo had set a fire in his mind and now all was reduced to ash. He watched his breath mist in the air, looking far too much like smoke for his liking, and went to join Tubbo.

They had nearly made it back home when Tubbo asked, “Are you coming down the paths tomorrow?” It was the first time they’d spoken since leaving the paths, the air between them heavy. Tubbo did a remarkably good job of pretending he didn’t notice that heaviness as he continued, “You should. Maybe we can talk Hafu into letting you have a weapon.”

Fundy shrugged, trying to get his brain back in working order. “I don’t know, I feel like Jack would get upset-”

“Why would Jack get upset?”

It occurred to Fundy that he might not know Jack had died. He felt vaguely sick as he remembered Tubbo’s words in this new context – that he hadn’t known people could come back from death, that he hadn’t known someone had died in this fight already. How far would Tubbo be willing to go if he knew? He bit his tongue, hoping never to find out.

“He’s… got issues,” was the answer he gave. “We’ve argued about me heading down the paths before. He literally told me today that I shouldn’t go back down – I don’t know what he’d do if he finds out I did.”

“That sounds like a him problem,” Tubbo said, utterly devoid of tact.

“One could say the same about my lack of magic.”

Tubbo screwed his face up. “I suppose so.” There was a beat, then he asked again, “So are you coming down?”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, though he already knew the answer, and Tubbo nodded.

With every new glimpse he caught of the world of magic and monsters the others were wrapped up in, the worse it all seemed, and the harder it was for him to stomach the closed door between them. If Tubbo could find some way for him to help, that seemed like the absolute least he could do for him and for Ranboo and 5up and especially Jack. Maybe the morning would bring with it a different perspective, but right now, he’d already made his choice.

Chapter Text

Fundy’s resolve met its first hurdle almost immediately on Wednesday morning, as he met Jack at the bus stop as usual and was handed a spiced apple pie. Jack’s face was pale and pinched, but he made an effort to smile at Fundy, and Fundy felt like a monster as he smiled back.

They started walking, the conversation sparse. Fundy picked at the apple pie, his stomach churning, before packing it away and slipping it into his pocket, steeling himself to ask, “I, um- how much would you hate me if… if I went down the paths again?”

Jack’s steps faltered briefly. “A lot,” he said as he pressed on, his tone flat.

“But-”

“Nope. Nothing you could say to change my mind.”

With a sigh, Fundy turned his gaze towards the trees – there were a few scattered yellow and orange leaves now, and he watched as one was whisked away in the breeze. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he couldn’t just leave the conversation there, so slowly, carefully, he said, “I want to help. I’m sorry, Jack, but I really can’t just ignore the fact that you died!”

“Sure you can,” Jack said. “You’ve been ignoring it. And that’s been fine – great, even!”

“But you guys are running off into literal mortal danger on a daily basis and… and I just have to know that it’s happening but I can’t help?” He looked at Jack sidelong, heart hammering. “Even putting aside the fact that you used to be my buddy and are- probably my best friend, Ranboo is my buddy and he’s fifteen and- If I can help-”

“You can’t.” There was an ugly twist to Jack’s mouth.

“I could! Hafu’s friends used to help with the monsters and they didn’t have magic! Why’s it different with me?”

“Because that turned out so great for them,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Forgive me for not wanting to risk yet another life with all this.”

“The more people that help, surely the less risk there is?”

“No, the more people that help, the more people that die horribly. There is no other way!” He spread his arms and turned to Fundy, wearing a deeply bitter smile. “You get that, right? The monsters are endless! We’re all gonna die down there, sooner or later! And if you join in…” His words trailed off and he shrugged, letting his arms drop.

“You don’t know that for certain,” Fundy said, though he didn’t believe his own words. It was hard to be positive when arguing with someone who had literally died.

Jack waved him off. “Do you really think getting more fucking teenagers roped into this is going to make any of it better?”

“It might.” He looked at the trees again. “If it did… wouldn’t that be worth it?”

Jack slowed to a halt and Fundy stopped too, though he struggled to look back at Jack. He hated that they were having this argument again. He hated that, this time, he couldn’t just offer normalcy and let them carry on.

“No,” Jack said eventually, sounding world-weary. “No, I don’t think it would be. I think it’d just be another body on the pile.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, before continuing, sharper, “I mean, fuck, man – I’m prepared to die again! I- I can barely cope with knowing the others will die too, and I don’t even really care about them – I mean, Tubbo’s alright, I guess, and Ranboo – but-” He stepped into Fundy’s line of sight. For a moment, he just stared, and then he deflated and muttered a quiet, “I think- I think something happening to you might kill me. With or without the monsters.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely meaning it even though it didn’t change anything – wasn’t that just the worst part of all this? He hated arguing with Jack because he cared about him, but he couldn’t let the argument lie and agree not to go down the paths again for the same reason. He looked aside as he added, “But I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Jack asked. “I die? Again?”

“Yes! I don’t-”

“That would be a relief.”

He stared at Jack, torn between reeling back and reaching out, and Jack stared back at him. What could he say? What the fuck could he say? In the end, it was Jack who moved first, turning away from the route to school.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. Fundy couldn’t see his expression, but he could see the taut lines of his shoulders – he remembered their first argument about magic and wondered how long they’d run in circles. He could only hope that something would give before one of them did die.

Unwilling to leave the conversation on that note, Fundy took a deep breath and asked, “Can I help?”

Jack just shook his head and left, and, his stomach twisted up in knots, Fundy carried on.

~

At lunchtime, Fundy tried his best to ignore the guilt gnawing at his stomach as he followed 5up through the door. It was weird to head through it during the day – knowing they’d left behind sunlight, pale and cold though it had been, just made the paths feel even darker and out of place. He really would be happy to never come down here again. But he’d made his choice, so he pressed his lips together and clung tighter to 5up’s hand, waiting for the darkness to part.

Hafu was in the main room when they arrived, sitting in one of the chairs with her knees drawn up and writing something in a notebook. She looked them both over with narrowed eyes, then sighed and said, “I hope you know what you’re doing, 5up,” which was far less opposition than Fundy had been expecting.

“When do I not?” 5up asked, voice chipper.

She rolled her eyes and didn’t deign him with a direct response, instead asking, “Do you know where Jack is?”

“He wasn’t feeling well this morning,” Fundy said. “He went home before we even reached school.”

“I don’t think he’s ever gotten sick since he came back to life.” Her gaze was piercing. Fundy had to look away.

“Yeah, I didn’t say he was sick, did I?”

“Hm.” She was silent for a moment, then said, “If you really want to stay, patch things up with Jack. I don’t care what’s going on, but if I have to choose between the two of you, I’m choosing him every time. Got it?”

He gave a jerky nod, still avoiding her gaze. “Sure. Got it.”

“Great.” She pointed her pen at 5up. “Go do a sweep of the right tunnels.”

“I’d rather be the one showing Fundy around,” 5up said.

“And I’d rather not leave you and him and the first-years alone in the sanctuary.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me to supervise them?”

Hafu shook her head. “I’m saying I’d feel safer keeping my own eye on them right now. Just to make sure Fundy isn’t going to be-” She paused and Fundy glanced up with narrowed eyes, wondering what she was about to say. “Isn’t going to cause trouble,” she continued after a moment.

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “Not here.”

She gave him an assessing look and said, “Well, we’ll see.” She returned her gaze to 5up, flicking her pen towards the tunnels. “You. Go. Tunnels.”

5up stood his ground for all of five seconds before sighing and patting Fundy’s arm. “I’ll try and be back soon,” he said, and then he left.

Fundy looked around the room. It looked exactly the same as it had last night, except for Hafu, who was watching him warily. Feeling the weight of the silence, he pointed at the desks and asked, “How much gum is under those?”

She pulled a face. “None. Why was that your first question?”

“I don’t know what questions I’m allowed to ask!”

“Since when has that been enough to stop you?” She made a circular gesture with the pen and gave him a pointed look, adding, “You weren’t allowed to come down here, after all.”

“5up said it was okay,” he said, taking a seat at the central table and trying to affect a casual air. He could feel Hafu’s gaze still fixed on him, but he looked around the room again, trying to think of something to say.

Before he could come up with something, she sat forwards, planting her feet flat on the ground, and asked, “What’s going on with you and 5up exactly?”

“We’re- friends.” He swallowed, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I really can’t tell whether this,” she gestured to the room again, “is just the two of you being contrary, or- or what. After Jack and I both told you to clear off, you’ve come right back, all because 5up said it was okay.”

“And I want answers,” he said.

“Answers we can’t give you!”

“Well…” He looked out at the paths, inky black-on-black. “I want to help too. Jack and Ranboo and 5up are my friends, and Tommy and Tubbo are… family, I guess.” He turned back to face her and asked, “Would you really be able to stay away if the situations were reversed?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.” That stung – she really thought that little of him? – but he tried to keep his expression neutral as she set her notebook aside and said, long-suffering, “Alright. Ask your questions.”

He wasn’t exactly sure where to begin, but he had to start somewhere, so he chose a question at random and asked, “Why is this all a secret?”

“Hasn’t 5up told you that much?” she asked.

“He has – some of it, anyway – but I want to hear it from you,” he said. “I just… I’m still struggling a little to imagine someone as responsible as you not telling an adult immediately.”

She sighed, tapping her pen against the table, her gaze fixed on the opposite wall. After a long moment she asked, “Did he say that I’m the oldest person we know of with magic?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think he mentioned that.”

“If there were adult mages out there, that raises the question: where are they? It’s not like we’ve been subtle,” she said, waving a hand towards the entrance. “Anyone who knows about this place would know we’ve been using it! And the tunnels are filled with monsters, wave upon wave of them – who was fighting them off before us? Someone had to have been.” She paused, pen stilling. “Assuming they don’t just appear when people with magic are born. There are a lot of assumptions we have to make. But we know they can leave the paths, we’ve seen them outside the door – how many so-called ‘animal attacks’ have actually been these monsters?” She met his gaze, eyes tight, and asked, “And what kind of person would just sit by and let that happen?”

He sank back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “Okay,” he said, “so you don’t think there are adult magic people, or that they’re all evil or something. I guess that makes sense.”

“There not being adult mages is the clearest explanation, but still…” She frowned, staring into the distance once more. “That then raises the question of what happened to them. Were they killed by the monsters? By whoever – whatever – is sending them out? Or were they taken out by something far more human?”

“Are you implying the government?” he asked, mouth curling in a smile of disbelief.

“Is it that weird a suggestion?” she shot back, deathly serious.

“It’s literally a conspiracy theory!”

She glared at him. “The point is, we don’t know what happened! All I know for certain is that I’m the oldest mage who is definitively still alive, and so it falls on my shoulders to make sure everyone else is alright. And at least we can fight the monsters!” Her shoulders slumped slightly, expression softening as she looked towards the entrance. “Whatever happened to the others is a complete unknown. Better to keep quiet, just in case.”

“I can understand that,” he said, putting his chin in his hand. “It’s just weird, seeing you be so resistant to authority.”

She raised her eyebrows. “There’s a difference between a school council and literal life-or-death.”

“Yeah – the school council doesn’t matter.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “And yet you act like it’s life-and-death.”

She slapped his arm and sat back, pulling her legs back up so all he could see was her eyes, peering at him from under a furrowed brow. “Whatever goes on down here,” she said, “we’ve still got to abide by society’s rules out there. Especially if we don’t want attention to be drawn to us.”

He bit his tongue and looked away – even if he didn’t agree with her perspective, he didn’t want to get into an argument with her right now. Instead, he asked, “So what are your plans once you leave school? Are you just going to leave all this in 5up’s hands?”

“I’ll be coming back,” she said. Her voice was firm, but what he could see of her expression, when he glanced back, was conflicted. “I’m going to get a job at the school – I’ll have to leave for a few years to get my qualifications, but then I’ll be back.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be a teacher.” It made a certain kind of sense, but something about it didn’t quite seem to fit.

To his surprise, she snorted and said, “I don’t. But I have to.” She paused. There was an odd note in her voice when she said, “It’s my duty.”

He sat back, letting his hands rest in his lap, and wished he knew better than to ask questions with guaranteed depressing answers. “What would you want to do, if you didn’t- if you didn’t think you had to do this?”

“I don’t know. I have no fucking clue who I’d even be if I hadn’t learned about my magic and the monsters.” He could feel her looking at him again. “And, no offence, but I don’t really want to talk about that with you.”

That was fair. Fundy had barely wanted to ask the question in the first place. “What’s going to happen now, then?” he asked, figuring that was both a more neutral and more useful question.

“Right now, I’ll give you a tour,” she said, getting to her feet. “Still figuring out the rest of it. Come on.”

She showed him around the sanctuary – it was a relatively small set of connected rooms, all made out of the same gritty grey stone with impossibly high ceilings and those strange magic flames as lighting. The artefact room he recognised, and she stressed that he was not to touch anything in it without her permission; he decided against mentioning last night. There was a larger room they used for training, a storage room for spare clothes with adjacent washrooms, a little box of a room barely wide enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder that was crammed with first aid supplies – “In case anything happens to me and 5up,” she said, and Fundy felt sick.

“What’s that room?” he asked as they passed a closed door. It was the first door Fundy had seen since coming through the door, and it seemed out-of-place.

“We don’t know,” she said. “It doesn’t open.”

He looked it over. “There’s a light beyond it.”

“Yep.”

“Has anything ever…?” He waved a hand towards the light.

“Blocked it?” When he nodded, she shrugged. “Not that we’ve seen. We don’t really come this way often. And we definitely don’t pay attention to some weird closed door – the monsters are the priority.”

And she led him on, to a narrow hallway with a couple more storage rooms branching off. They were filled with more artefacts – he assumed they were artefacts, anyway, as Hafu gave him the same sharp words about not touching a thing, though one seemed more like a pantry, the shelves laden with food. He didn’t need her warning to know he shouldn’t eat anything inside, though he couldn’t deny an impulsive urge to try some anyway.

“Like I said,” she continued as they left, “we don’t come this way often. It’s just all weird magic shit.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I heard some kind of dripping noise in one of those rooms once, like water or something – I think they’re in worse condition than the main room, so it’s better to just leave them alone.”

“I know you’re not going to have an answer,” he said, “but who do you think made it all?”

“Does it have to have been made?” she asked.

“It certainly seems to have been. There was a sword in there – I don’t know of any swords that just, like, grow out of the ground.” When she raised an eyebrow at him, he waved her off. “Yeah yeah, I know, magic – but those monsters don’t use swords, do they? And the sword doesn’t just do anything on its own. So… I think someone had to make it to be used by a person.”

“It makes sense,” she said, “but doesn’t actually help much, does it? Whoever it was, they’re long dead now.”

“Maybe magic people live longer than non-magic people.”

“Evidence suggests they live less long,” she said, and his response died on his tongue.

They returned to the main room and found the first-years waiting for them – Tubbo and Ranboo both lit up when they noticed Fundy, which eased his discomfort somewhat.

“You came!” Tubbo said, vaulting the table and landing before him and Hafu. He turned to the latter and asked, “Can Fundy have a magic weapon to defend himself?”

“No.”

“Aw, but-”

She held up a finger and Tubbo fell silent, drawing back with a troubled expression. She looked over his shoulder towards Tommy and Ranboo and said, “Tommy, go patrol the left tunnels.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tommy said. He gave her a wonky salute that seemed oddly genuine – the complete lack of sarcasm, of good humour of any kind, made Fundy feel uncomfortable.

As Tommy left, Hafu said, “Ranboo, if 5up isn’t back in five minutes, could you go check on him?”

“Right, yes,” Ranboo said hesitantly. “And he went down the…?”

“The right tunnels.”

Ranboo nodded. “Okay.”

Then, with a weary sigh, Hafu turned back to Tubbo. “Okay, say what you want to say.”

Tubbo drew himself up to his full height. “If Fundy’s going to keep coming down here,” he said, his words carrying the brisk rhythm of being at least somewhat rehearsed, “he needs some way to protect himself, or else he needs someone to protect him. If we give him a weapon and train him how to use it, then we’ve got an extra pair of hands to help out against the monsters instead of taking away from the hands we currently have, as we would if we give him a protector. It just makes sense!”

“That is assuming the artefacts even work for him. We don’t actually know what his deal is.”

“Some of ‘em-” Tubbo paused, eyes darting to Fundy, and Hafu narrowed her eyes slightly, suggesting his tripping over his words hadn’t slipped her notice. “Uh, some of them might! We can at least test, can’t we?”

“Too dangerous,” she said.

“How are we going to learn if we don’t try?”

“We’ve already learned enough.” She folded her arms. “The best thing he could do to help is stay away – I’m sure as hell not giving him a weapon.”

“Ouch,” Fundy muttered.

She glanced at him. “You’re an absolute menace. It’s far more likely you’ll get one of us hurt than the monsters.”

That made him feel even worse, but before he could say anything, Tubbo asked, “Can he at least use a non-weapon thingamabob? Or, uh, test if he can use one?”

“No,” she said. “When did you test whether Fundy could use the artefacts?”

“I didn’t-!”

“I’m not an idiot. When did you test him?”

Tubbo gave Fundy an apologetic look before saying, “Last night.”

“Did you take the artefacts out?”

“Nope,” he said. “Brought him down here.”

She rubbed at her forehead, a pained grimace on her face. In the tones of someone who didn’t want to believe what they were hearing, she asked, “You brought him down here? At night?”

“Yep!”

“Why?”

Tubbo paused, glancing back at the entrance. “To… see what would happen?”

“You did it because 5up asked you to, didn’t you?” she asked, lifting her head and fixing him with a hard look.

“I asked him to,” Fundy said quickly.

“Sure you did,” Hafu said. She looked over at Ranboo and asked, “Can you bring 5up back here?”

“Hopefully!” Ranboo said, before disappearing with a soft ‘vwoop’.

Fundy stared at the space he’d been as Tubbo said, “I mean, it doesn’t really matter why I did it, does it? The point is, I did! And we now know the parameters of what Fundy can and cannot do – they’re real weird, by the way-”

“Don’t care,” she said. “No more messing with the artefacts.”

“Aw, why not?”

“They’re dangerous, plain and simple. We barely understand how they work, and messing around with them – especially unsupervised! – could have gotten someone seriously hurt.”

“Fighting monsters seems more dangerous,” Tubbo said, an oddly sombre note in his voice. “The artefacts could help a lot. You’ve even used them before, and let other people use them. I don’t think you should be able to just- pick and choose who gets a fighting chance.”

Hafu stared at him, her eyes dark. “I’m not.”

Before she could continue, or Tubbo or Fundy could respond, there was another ‘vwoop’ as Ranboo returned with 5up at his side. There was a small flame cupped in 5up’s hand and another racing along a cut on his face – the former vanished as he approached them, but the latter didn’t, and Fundy watched with morbid fascination as the gash disappeared in its wake before it too flickered out.

“What’s this about?” 5up asked, looking over the three of them. He seemed tired.

Hafu tore her gaze away from Tubbo and asked, “Did you know Tubbo and Fundy came down here last night?”

“Nope.” The answer came easily. “What did they do?”

It was Tubbo who responded, his eagerness returning as he said, “Tested whether Fundy could use the trinkets! Turns out, he can use the ones that don’t require magic to use – like the bag of holding, he can take stuff out of that – but he can’t use the ones that require you to put magic in! Even though the other non-magic people could! Isn’t that interesting?”

“Oh!” 5up seemed intrigued, eyes alight. “Wow wow wow, that’s very peculiar! I wonder why that is!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hafu said sharply, her voice cutting through their excitement. “Fundy’s not allowed to use the artefacts – and Tubbo, you’re not allowed to now either.”

“That’s rude,” Tubbo said, pouting.

“I’m serious,” Hafu said. “Those artefacts are exactly as dangerous as the monsters, and you using them without a healer around is just asking for them to blow up in your face.” Tubbo’s gaze slipped to Fundy, amusement warring with a silent plea; Fundy had already decided against telling Hafu about Tubbo’s explosion experiments, so he simply raised his eyebrows and kept his mouth shut. Their attention returned to Hafu as she said, “Promise me you won’t use them.”

“They’re only dangerous because we don’t understand them, though,” Tubbo said. “If I promise to only try things out with Cup there-”

“No, I’m not even allowing that.” She dropped her arms and looked between them. “Look – Tubbo, you said earlier that I’d let other people use those artefacts before, right?”

“Yeah, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’ve got this double standard with Fundy.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, it’s because other people used those artefacts that I’m putting my foot down on this. When I said that it could ‘blow up in your face’, I-” Her words caught for a moment and a chill swept over Fundy. “I… was speaking from experience.”

“Oh,” Tubbo said, eyes wide.

“Leave those artefacts alone,” she said. “Okay?”

Fundy was quick to nod, though just as quick to say, “I do want to help with the monsters, though. And Tubbo said that magic wasn’t necessary to kill them, so-”

“He did?” She gave Tubbo a questioning look.

“I use bowling balls,” he said, pulling one out of his pocket. “They’re not magic, they’re just heavy.”

“I…” She cocked her head to one side, staring down at the bowling ball. “Huh.”

“It would probably be good to diversify our tactics, then,” 5up said to Hafu. “If we don’t have to use magic for every little thing, that means we can save our power for the healing – it would mean Ranboo and Fundy could fight too, once they learn how. And probably once they get a weapon of some kind.” He turned to Ranboo and Fundy as he added, “Something long, I would say, to keep the monsters away.”

“Right,” Ranboo said, his voice strained. After a moment, he added, “Also, are we all just ignoring that Tubbo pulled that out of his pocket?”

“How did you do that?” Hafu asked.

Tubbo shrugged, tossing the ball in the air as easily as if it were a basketball. “Figured out how to make bottomless pockets,” he said. “From my experiments. Not all the thingies are dangerous, you know-”

“Enough of them are,” she said, “and we have no easy way of telling the difference. I’m still putting a ban on further experiments.”

Fundy took in the disappointment in Tubbo’s gaze and remembered his words last night. Steeling himself, he said, “What if Tubbo tries to figure out healing?”

“What?” Hafu sounded confused as she turned to him, but Tubbo’s expression had lit up.

“Those swirly things that Tubbo showed me last night,” he continued, “they can do all kinds of things, right? Surely there’s one that can heal, like you and 5up can? And that seems like something worth figuring out – I mean, once you two leave,” he pointed at 5up and Hafu, “is there anyone who can take over the healing?”

“No,” she admitted, wearing a conflicted frown. Still, she hadn’t outright rejected the idea yet.

“Is that something you think you could do?” Fundy asked Tubbo.

“Absolutely,” he said, with all the confidence of a child sure that they could fly if they only wished hard enough.

Hafu thought for a moment more before facing Tubbo. “Run me through exactly what you would do. If I think the risk’s too high, the ban remains. 5up, you can go back to patrolling – just a quick sweep, you’ve got class soon. Ranboo, you take 5up back to where you found him, then stay with him until he’s finished and take him to the door. Fundy-” She gave him an assessing look. “You really want to help out?”

“I really do,” Fundy said.

“Tomorrow, we’ll see about training, then,” she said. “And remember to talk to Jack.” She paused before adding, “And stop breaking in here at night. Just- stop it.” She waited for him to nod before turning back to the group at large. “Okay, go.”

Ranboo teleported away with 5up while Tubbo pulled his notebook out, leading Hafu back to the artefact room. Fundy was tempted to trail behind them, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to hear the bell from down here and he really wanted to avoid the after-lunch rush – especially since he was planning on skipping the next class. It was history and the teacher was the type to shame Fundy in front of everyone if he hadn’t done his homework, which he hadn’t, so he thought it better to just camp out on the roof until it came time for IT. He grabbed his bag and left the others to it.

There was something especially strange about walking through the paths knowing other people were somewhere within their depths. He glanced both ways at the intersection, spotting what he thought was a distant light down each – white to the left, red to the right – but might have just been his imagination. Even so, it reassured him to see what might have been signs of life.

It was as worryingly easy as it always was to climb out of the window and onto the roof. He passed the time on his phone, sitting back from the ledge so the first-years still milling about below didn’t notice him, but shortly after the bell rang and they all went to their own lessons, he got a text from Jack.

Jack: can we talk?
Fundy: i’m supposed to be in class right now
Jack: i know you’re not
Jack: it’s history, no way you’re *actually* in class

He sighed – Jack knew him too well.

Fundy: okay, i’m not, what did you want to talk about?
Jack: can you sneak me into the school? i want to show you something in the paths

Peering over the edge of the roof, he spotted Jack lurking outside the school gates. It seemed like a stupid idea to wander through the school and help him jump the fence, the risk of getting caught by someone far too high, but he sent Jack an agreement anyway and went back inside. He just hoped this wouldn’t end in another argument.

“Hey,” he called as he approached, making Jack jump. “How athletic are you?”

“Like, nil.” Jack shoved his phone into his pocket and looked up at the gate. “I would probably die if you asked me to climb that.”

“Oh, I’m not asking you to climb that,” he said. “There’s a camera over it and probably security watching right now. Come on – there’s an alley around the left, I don’t think there’s any cameras there.”

Jack frowned, but started walking towards the alley. Fundy shadowed him as he muttered, “I don’t know why I’m so surprised that you know where the cameras are.”

“I know where a camera is. There are probably others-” Probably in the school, which he’d just walked through. He grimaced. “But I don’t think the others will catch you. Probably. Hopefully.” He glanced towards the school. “Security might come out and catch us, though.”

“I kind of hate being friends with you.”

“You’re the one breaking into the school.”

Jack gave him a tired glare before staring up at the fence. “You can’t seriously expect me to climb this? It’s designed to be impossible to climb.”

“It’s not so hard,” Fundy said, “you just gotta get the right footing and do it all at once so the momentum carries you over.”

“How am I even supposed to get up there, though?” He lifted his arms – they didn’t reach anywhere near high enough.

“Oh, right,” he said. “I forgot you were short.”

“Oi.”

“You are, though. You literally are.”

“That’s not what your mum said last night.”

“Okay, goodbye-”

“Wait!”

He turned back as Jack cursed under his breath to see him glancing around in a furtive manner. After a few moments, he reached out and grabbed the fence. Flames flickered between his fingers and the metal turned red-hot, melting in his hand and dropping to the floor. Fundy looked around – no one had come out of the school and he couldn’t see anyone on the street.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice little more than a hiss.

“I can’t go over,” Jack said, pushing more metal aside. It bent easily beneath his touch. “This is fine, no one will notice.”

“They are definitely going to notice.”

“Well…” He shrugged.

The hole was large enough now for him to step through, so he did, shaking off his hand to get rid of metal and flame both. Once that was done, he jerked his head towards the school and started walking. Reluctantly, Fundy followed.

“They’re probably going to blame me for that,” he said, glancing back at the fence. It was really obvious.

“Sucks to be you,” Jack said, uncaring.

“Do you want me to go to jail?”

“Maybe.” He let out a huff, avoiding Fundy’s attempts to catch his eye. “Might be safest.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t just kill myself the moment I get locked in one tiny room again.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t make those jokes,” Jack said, and Fundy resisted the urge to point out that they really weren’t jokes.

When they reached the door, Jack went through it without any hesitation, conjuring a small flame in his left hand. Fundy took a deep breath before following.

At the intersection, much to Fundy’s surprise, Jack turned left. Fundy stopped to look down the other paths. It was impossible to see anything, especially since there was definitely no one else down here now, no matter how much he wished there was. He really didn’t want to go down this new path with only a moody Jack as his companion, every single nerve in his body screaming at him that this was a fucking dumb idea.

“What are we doing?” he asked as quietly as he could.

Jack turned towards him. His face looked odd in this light, the sharp planes of his face rendered sharper, his eyes little more than inky pits that wavered as the fire flickered.

“I want to show you something,” he whispered, before breathing a silent laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe!”

With his heart in his throat, Fundy forced himself to step forward. Jack waited until Fundy was an arm’s length away before continuing to walk, and Fundy had no choice but to follow if he didn’t want to be abandoned in the darkness.

There were other turns – they always went to the left, twisting in on themselves in a path Fundy was sure shouldn’t be physically possible, and yet they continued on, venturing ever deeper into the tunnels. The walls were unchanging, the air still; the only movement Fundy could see was the fire and the thin sliver of Jack it illuminated.

And then, quite suddenly, Jack stopped. Fundy couldn’t see why at first, but then the fire grew bigger and brighter so that Fundy could see the walls streaked with something dark and-

…and at their feet, a pile of charred bones.

Fundy felt sick.

“It’s me,” Jack said, sinking into a crouch. He was affecting a casual tone, though there was a deep tiredness just beneath. “My bones, from when I died. I came back right here, and saw… Well. I wasn’t bones then.” He reached out a finger – it seemed to be trembling, though that could have been a trick of the light – and he poked the skull. “It’s weird, seeing your own face. Seeing your own dead fucking body.” He pulled his hand back. It was stained black.

Fundy turned away, taking shallow breaths and blinking away the spots that had been burned into his vision. “Why did you want to show me this?”

“I still don’t feel like you get it.” There was some anger creeping into his voice now – anger he seemed to be trying to smother, but it was present nonetheless. “How many times do I have to tell you I died before you stop volunteering to throw yourself into hell too?”

He almost wanted to laugh – or maybe it was tears that were making it hard to breathe. “I- Jack, this makes me want to help more!” he said, still trying to keep his voice down. “I care about you, I want to help you-”

“For a month,” Jack said, cutting Fundy off. “Until you leave me behind.”

Maybe it was kind of cruel of him to try and get involved when they both knew it wouldn’t keep him from leaving, but hadn’t he promised himself with Ranboo to help as much as he could? It seemed worse by far to not extend that same kindness to Jack. And what even was the alternative? To turn a blind eye to the bloodshed until he left? Or to not leave at all – a choice that would surely kill him as easily as walking through these paths alone.

None of that helped him know what to say now. “Jack…”

“No, I get it. Okay? I do.” He heard Jack stand. “Your dad sucks and you want to get out of dodge, but- but I don’t get why you’re even down here, then! You’re going to be turning your back on all of this the moment you can, running away because that’s what you think’s best for you, so what’s the difference now? Just fucking-” Jack cut himself off with a frustrated noise. “It would be so easy to ignore us, and it would keep you alive long enough to leave – and you can’t just use your weird magic situation as an excuse, because we can’t help with that! I-” He fell silent again, so suddenly Fundy was almost worried he’d been attacked, though he could still see the fire’s light cast over the walls. When Jack next spoke, his voice was quiet again, almost pleading. “I don’t understand you.”

Fundy turned back to Jack, searching desperately for something to say that might help. “I- I would stay if I could,” was what he settled on. He didn’t know if that explained enough.

“I think that might be worse,” Jack said. “I’m glad you’re leaving. I’ll miss you, but I won’t-” He sighed, looking up at Fundy. “What could I say? What could I do to make you stop this?”

“Kill me? Leave me down here?”

“I’m serious-”

“So am I!”

Jack let out a shaky breath and lowered the strength of his flame, the shadows creeping across his body. “Does it affect your decision at all,” he asked, “if I say that I’m genuinely considering it?”

He swallowed. “Huh?”

“At least I’d give you a quick death,” Jack said darkly. When Fundy didn’t respond – he couldn’t, throat tight – he shook his head. “I won’t. I- I don’t want to be a murderer.” There was another stretch of silence before Jack stepped over the bones and past Fundy, adding, “You might wish I had, though.”

Fundy’s legs felt weak as he followed Jack, and he had to press a hand against the wall to be sure he’d stay upright. They walked out in silence, twisting right and right and right again; Fundy felt dizzy when they finally returned to the stairs.

Jack dismissed the flame and Fundy felt him move past him – heading back into the paths. “Wait, where are you going?” he asked. His voice trembled, but he didn’t have the ability to feel embarrassed right now.

“Need to blow off some steam,” Jack said. “Going to go punch things in the face until they die. Or until I do.” With grim humour, he added, “What a world we live in, hm?”

Could he ask Jack to not? Would he listen – would that make things worse? He debated with himself for a moment before asking, “Keep safe?”

“I will if you will.”

“That’s not fair-”

“I think it is!” He clumsily patted Fundy’s arm – his hands were very warm. “Look, this was… This was my last attempt, okay? I promise not to try and stop you coming down here anymore. You can do whatever the fuck you want! But… But I’m not happy. In fact, I’m fucking pissed, and I can’t-” The air had started humming again. Fundy listened as Jack took a deep breath and released it, the back of his neck prickling. “I would rather you hate me than me hurt you. And- and I would rather hate you than get attached to someone who’s just going to be dead before the month’s out. You won’t walk away? Fine. But this is it.”

There was something hollow and aching in his chest. He stared at where Jack was probably standing and softly said, “I don’t hate you.”

“That’s fine. I got enough hate for the both of us.”

He wasn’t exactly sure when Jack left there was just a moment when he reached out and his hands found nothing. He drew them back slowly, then he took a seat on the bottom step, his head resting against the wall. He couldn’t quite bring himself to head up.

After a while, the door at the top of the stairs opened. Only the barest shaft of light reached Fundy at the bottom, but it was still noticeable, a lightening of the world from mind-numbing darkness to merely gloomy. When it closed and he heard soft steps descending towards him, he shuffled aside.

But, instead of walking past him, the other person sat beside him. He wasn’t that surprised to hear 5up’s voice.

“You want to tell me why there’s a hole melted in the fence?”

He lifted his gaze to the corridor ahead. “Jack.” His voice was hoarse and sounded far too loud. He winced and pressed a hand against his mouth.

“Ah, I see,” 5up said. “I’m guessing you guys didn’t make up.”

“No,” he said.

A hand found his, slipping up to his wrist and encircling it. 5up’s fingers were cool. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Talking would make it real. He scrubbed his free hand over his face and muttered, “I want to leave.”

There was a soft sigh, then 5up said, “Fine. Security are still poking around the fence – if you give me five minutes, I’ll get them to leave.”

He blinked and turned towards 5up, despite the futility of the action. He wished he could see his face. “Wha- why?”

“There seems to me quite a chasm between the rules we’re expected to abide by and the world in which we live,” 5up said, which made very little sense to Fundy. “The school will let you off for sickness but not for arguments with your undead best friend. C’est la vie, we have to take it upon ourselves to help where we can.”

“I- I don’t-”

“It’s the same reasoning that keeps bringing me back down here.” 5up squeezed his wrist and stood. “Five minutes.”

“I… Thank you.”

“Of course.”

There were once again soft footsteps and the door above opened and closed. Fundy pulled his phone out to check the time. It was blindingly bright and he flinched back, quickly lowering the brightness, but even the lowest setting seemed too much now that his eyes had adjusted. He wiped his eyes and peered at it regardless, watching the minutes pass by agonisingly slowly. It was six minutes he waited, just to be safe, before ascending the stairs.

The yard was empty; though he’d expected it, it was still a relief to see. He cut across, glancing towards the school building. He felt exposed here, all the windows staring down at him, but all he could do was quicken his pace and hope he wouldn’t be noticed.

When he reached the fence, he saw that they’d covered the hole in it with a plastic tarp. It was clear that something had happened here, but did a pretty good job of hiding exactly what. He was sure he’d end up getting blamed for it. He grimaced and scaled the fence, giving the tarped area as wide a berth as he could.

Once he’d landed, he checked his phone. Calls and messages from Wilbur, Eret, and Niki were all filtering in, as expected, so he sent everyone a text to let them know he was, at least, alive and he started making his way to Schlatt’s. Though he yearned for Niki’s warmth, he didn’t really think he could cope with people right then. He could barely even cope with himself.

Chapter Text

Fundy spent the rest of the afternoon in Schlatt’s empty house, lying on his bed and staring up at the stars. He wished he could have done something different, but he wasn’t sure what he could have done. It still didn’t feel wrong to choose helping with the monsters over appeasing Jack; it still hurt that he couldn’t keep Jack’s friendship, even if for just a little longer.

At some point, he pulled his phone out and scrolled through the messages and missed calls without really seeing them. None were from Jack – that was all he knew. He stared at Jack’s last few messages to him for an unknown length of time, then, in an attempt to excise some of the mess in his brain, he sent a message to HBomb. They talked about Jack, with Fundy unable to talk about why he and Jack were no longer friends, but needing to talk about it with someone regardless. Though HBomb was confused, he still tried to offer what sympathy he could. He even offered to talk to Jack on Fundy’s behalf. Fundy turned the offer down, but it did help him feel a little better.

When it came time for him to head to work, for the first time ever, he debated calling in sick. He ultimately decided against it – he didn’t want to worry Niki further, he felt guilty enough for what he’d already done today – but it was with some reluctance that he left the house and made his way to the bus stop where he normally met Jack in the mornings. It was strange to be waiting here alone, but he tried to ignore it. He needed to focus on work right now, he couldn’t get distracted.

It took him walking into the shop to realise that wasn’t going to happen. Puffy was on the till, and he hesitated at the door, feeling her gaze burning into him. He’d proved her right, hadn’t he? In all the worst ways, he’d proved her right.

“Fundy!”

Niki came out of the back, face pale with worry, and her presence alone was a balm. She stopped in front of him, gaze flicking over his expression. Then, she simply held her arms out. It felt like finally releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when he fell into the hug; like he had somehow been existing outside of himself but was now realigned. He screwed his eyes shut and held on tight.

It was him who pulled away first. When he did, she gave him another searching look before inviting him to sit in the back with her for the day.

Time slipped away from him for a while after that – he remembered a soft chair, a slice of spiced cake and a hot chocolate which turned to crumbs and dregs with what felt like mere blinks of an eye. Niki’s voice sometimes roused him. She told him that various customers had asked after him, wishing him well, and let him know when Eret arrived, or when 5up asked to speak with him. Only a few specific moments stuck in his mind for longer than a few seconds.

A hug from Eret – not to hold him together like Niki’s had been, but one of simple comfort.

Going for a walk with 5up, thin cold fingers slipping around his wrist – he should have worn his jacket – and the question raised once again of whether he wanted to talk about it.

The way 5up stopped in his tracks, face slack with shock, when Fundy mentioned Jack’s corpse. He hadn’t known Jack had left a corpse, he’d said.

And then, as he’d continued recounting, another strange reaction from 5up.

“I think the worst thing,” Fundy had said, “is that he thinks he knows what’s best. That he tried to decide for me what I should do. I know he doesn’t want me to get hurt, but I just- I would honestly rather be hurt than- than that.”

And 5up had made a little noise in the back of his throat that cut off whatever Fundy had been about to say next. Though he hadn’t said anything to 5up, he must have been able to read the confusion in Fundy’s face because he said, “That reminds me of when we first started playing the game. I said I tried to trick you because I thought it was for the best, and you nearly flinched out of your skin at the words.” He’d paused. Fundy, who’d barely been paying attention to his own words, had tried desperately to remember what he’d been talking about and almost missed 5up adding, “It’s painting a pretty concerning picture, honestly.”

“What does it matter?” He’d frowned – that wasn’t the right thing to say – and tried again: “I don’t want you to be concerned about me.”

“I don’t want to be concerned about you either.” He thought he remembered 5up smiling when he said that. “Because I’d rather concerning things didn’t happen.”

He’d stared at 5up for what felt like far too long before saying, “Yeah, I think we can agree on that.”

Them walking back to the shop, some time later, with 5up saying that he and Hafu were arguing on Fundy’s behalf regarding the ‘destruction of school property’ he was apparently being accused of. He’d said Fundy wasn’t yet expelled, that they would hopefully be able to avoid even a suspension, and that he should come back to school tomorrow and try and follow the rules, at least while this was being settled. He’d asked, with an arched brow, what the odds were for Fundy actually following the rules, and Fundy had admitted that it depended but that he’d try. 5up had accepted that, which surprised Fundy. He wasn’t used to people just taking him at his word.

Though the walk with 5up had helped settle his mind, it still felt like the rest of his afternoon passed in a blur. More conversations, more food, more hugs – at least Puffy hadn’t talked to him, not that he could remember. He must have told them something about the situation with Jack, because he vaguely remembered Niki asking what he’d do for breakfast now.

For some reason, that question had stuck with him. It was so unimportant, really, in the face of everything that had happened – it felt almost absurd to consider that tomorrow he’d be going back to school like always – but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t have time to go to Niki’s himself. He’d either have to eat with his family or buy something on the way from somewhere he didn’t know. Either way, it felt like a loss. There must have been something wrong with Fundy, because it was the thought of no longer having those breakfasts that finally choked him with grief.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Eret said when Fundy broached the topic with them. They were in their car, driving back towards Fundy’s home, and he couldn’t bear to see Wilbur without getting this off his chest. “Grief is peculiar,” they continued, “and even if it finally makes itself known over something seemingly small, doesn’t mean it’s just about the small thing. It’s more of a straw that broke the camel’s back situation.” They turned their head towards him slightly. “Does that make sense?”

“I suppose.”

They were silent for a moment. Then, to Fundy’s shock, they said, “I don’t think I properly mourned losing Wilbur’s friendship until I met him again.”

“What?” He stared at them.

“I mourned losing him,” they said, “but it didn’t hit me how much things had changed until… well, until you brought him back into my life. He was so different from how I remembered him. Granted, I was looking back with rose-tinted glasses,” they tapped a finger against the side of their sunglasses with a wry smile, “but that alone could not account for the shift. He was just… different. And so was I.” They stared out of the front window, hands gripping tight to the wheel. “And he hated me.”

He dropped his gaze to his knees – those words had unsettled him for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. They reminded him of Jack’s final words to him, in a way, which made him feel quite sick. Mostly, he still struggled to understand how Wilbur could hate Eret, though he knew by now that asking wouldn’t get him any answers. Underneath it all was a stab of guilt for causing them to meet again, and he couldn’t help but say, “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, Fundy,” they said, turning onto Fundy’s road. “Not about this.”

“But it’s my fault that-”

They pulled over in front of his house and turned to Fundy, who’d cut himself off and was just staring at his own front door. He didn’t want to go home.

“You may have been the reason,” they said gently, their words taking a moment to filter through to Fundy, “but it’s not your fault. Do you understand that, Fundy?”

“I…” It felt like a herculean task to force his eyes to meet theirs.

They gave him a small smile. “And I don’t regret it.”

They didn’t? “But Wil-”

“Can hate me all he wants. I’m still glad to know you. And I’m especially glad that the shop and I can act as a sort of refuge or sanctuary to you.” They gave him another smile, oblivious to the way the word ‘sanctuary’ had sent an electric shock down his spine. “Trust me, Fundy, that’s worth it. You’re worth it. Okay?”

He couldn’t find any hint of deception, no matter how long he stared at them. Though it felt like choking down glass, he swallowed back his instinctive rejection and said, “Okay.”

“Glad to hear it,” they said, face smoothing out with something akin to relief. “Do you want me to talk to Wilbur and Phil with you? At the very least, I might be able to offer moral support.”

“No, I should be alright,” he said, forcing his shaking hands to unbuckle himself. “Um, thanks, though.”

“Are you sure?” He nodded, and Eret said, “Alright, then. Good luck.”

It didn’t take long for him to regret his decision – halfway down the path the door was flung open, bright light spilling out onto the darkening street, his father little more than a silhouette framed against it. He stopped in his tracks and resisted the urge to turn and run, whether back to the car or down the street to Schlatt’s, as Wilbur’s gaze fell on that car and the person within. His eyes were dark with black-tar hatred. After a moment, when the car stayed where it was, Wilbur turned his gaze on Fundy and stepped back.

“Come in. We need to talk.”

As if they’d talk – as if Wilbur wouldn’t just say everything that was on his mind and only give Fundy brief opportunity to speak. He nodded anyway and entered the house. Despite its warmth, he felt a chill rush through him when the door swung shut.

Whatever scraps of peace he’d managed to regain over the afternoon were chipped away as Wilbur started speaking. It wasn’t anything Fundy hadn’t expected – the usual questions about what had even happened, his answers ignored in favour of whatever the school had said about him, the attempts to ‘find a solution’ that circled ever closer to being home-schooled again – but after the day he’d had, it was harder than it usually was to bear it.

“What do you have to say?” Wilbur finally asked him. “What possible justification do you have for your behaviour? Destruction of school property – that’s bigger than just skipping school again, so go on. Tell me why.”

All he could do was stare up at his father and say, “I shouldn’t have come home.”

Wilbur’s face crumpled, confusion warring with hurt. There was no anger, not this time – that might have made it worse. “I’ve just been worried about you, Fundy,” he said, his voice quiet. “I wish you wouldn’t treat me like a monster for that.”

He just kept staring. He felt numb inside and out, his mind returning again and again to the soot-covered skull. Wilbur must have started speaking again, though Fundy’s mind slipped off the words like water on glass.

And then, he heard Wilbur say, “-if we moved to another school, maybe, I think that would be for the best-”

That got a reaction from him – he took a step back, breath catching in his throat, and Phil finally stepped forwards to intervene. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Wil. I don’t think it’d be a good idea for Tommy and Tubbo to start at a new school this early in the school year.”

“You three can stay,” Wilbur said. “I mean, it might be good to separate them, anyway. I’m not sure if Fundy’s a bad influence on them or vice versa, but-”

“That’s too harsh,” Phil said, tone chiding.

Wilbur sighed, glancing towards the stairs – following his gaze, Fundy saw Tommy and Tubbo sitting halfway down them, watching the three of them through the gaps in the banister. It was hard to make out their expressions.

“Okay,” Wilbur said after a few seconds. “Okay, then we move closer to Techno and Kristin. I’m sure that’ll make everybody happy-”

“Doesn’t it matter what I want?” It took a moment for Fundy to realise he’d spoken – the voice had barely even sounded like his, weak and shaky.

Wilbur looked at Fundy again, frowning. “This is what you want,” he said. “You don’t want to be home-schooled, so you’ll have to attend a new school. But you like Techno and Kristin, I know you do.” He paused before saying with a horrible finality, “It’s for your own good.” His words knocked the air from Fundy’s lungs.

“Aw- no, Wil-” Phil was protesting again, watching Fundy with that awful concern he reserved solely for when he started crying. He touched his cheeks, surprised to find them wet, as Phil said, “He hasn’t even been expelled – let’s see what the school decides before talking about this, okay?”

“You said I needed to take more responsibility when he acted out-”

Oh, Fundy really was his father’s son, wasn’t he? He couldn’t help but laugh, hands clapped over his mouth, though it got him some weird looks – probably because he was still crying, as he realised when his vision blurred. He couldn’t even explain why. It wasn’t like it was funny that he and Wilbur were both criticised for not being responsible enough, but it was funnier than anything else that had happened today.

The argument didn’t really resolve, but it was quietly dropped as Phil decided that what Fundy needed was something to eat and Wilbur hovered around Fundy with a concerned expression that really shouldn’t have looked as strange on his face as it did. When Fundy looked over at the stairs again, he found Tommy and Tubbo both missing, along with his jacket – he wasn’t sure why they’d taken his jacket, but he was just glad they weren’t using Wilbur telling him off as their personal entertainment anymore. It had been a long day; he didn’t think he could cope with much more.

When he eventually went up to his room, he went over to the little window at the back and sat for a while on the floor before it, just watching the garden. The leaves of the hedge rustled in the wind.

He pulled up his sleeve and traced the scar on his forearm, gaze still fixed on that hedge. He was used to looking for the fox from his memories whenever he felt especially upset, but it was harder to do so this time, his mind turning back to the conversation with 5up.

There were three main possibilities – that’s what he’d said. Three main possibilities for where the scar had come from. One was Techno’s dogs, large and straddling the line between over-eager and feral, and the second was the hound that had attacked him on a day out with his family, the situation that had led to him first meeting Schlatt. The final option was this fox at the end of the garden. He didn’t actually remember the fox, didn’t remember which garden he’d seen it in, but something in him was certain that there was something missing that shouldn’t have been.

If it had bitten him, that would explain why it was gone. Either they’d moved away, or…

He tried to shake that thought off, digging his nails into the curve of his scar to ground himself. He hoped it wasn’t the fox that had bitten him. He’d liked the fox, though it was now nothing more than the echo of a memory.

The garden was still empty. Not feeling any better – in some ways, feeling worse – Fundy tugged his sleeve back down and finally went to bed.

~

“Here,” Tubbo said the next morning, accosting Fundy as he climbed down the ladder. “Jacket.”

He took it and quickly checked it over for damages – he froze as he opened it and saw a swirling floral design stitched across the inner lining. “What…?”

“It’s the swoopy-doop,” Tubbo said, tracing the loops around the pockets. “They work, by the way. This was all to disguise it a bit, so Hafu doesn’t notice.”

His mind, still caught up in what had happened yesterday, took several seconds to figure out what Tubbo was saying. When he realised, he shoved a hand in one of the pockets – deep, deep in, far deeper than should have been possible. “Oh.” He stared at Tubbo, the appropriate response lagging behind. “Uh, thank you-”

“Thank Tommy, too,” he said, chucking Fundy under the chin. There was something patronising in the motion, not helped by his bright grin. “And let us know if it gets damaged, alright? We put a lot of work into that!”

“I put a lot of work into that,” Tommy said, voice thick with sleep and gaze sharp with annoyance as he exited his room.

“I put a lot of work into bullying him into that.”

“No, that doesn’t-”

“Thanks,” Fundy said, clutching his jacket to his chest.

Tommy cut himself off and gave Fundy a onceover, mouth pinched. “You, uh… You seem better.”

“I feel better.” It was true – a night’s sleep had helped, if not cured, his grief.

“Good.” Tommy nodded sharply, then sniffed and went into the bathroom without another word.

Tubbo stared blankly at the bathroom door. “I was here first,” he said, sounding quite annoyed.

As he didn’t seem to be addressing Fundy, he went downstairs, finding Wilbur and Phil talking in the kitchen. Fundy watched them for a moment, once again wondering what he should do for breakfast – but Wilbur caught sight of him before he could make a decision.

“Oh, Fundy! You’re not heading off yet, are you?”

There was something horribly hopeful on Wil’s face – Fundy shook his head and hung his jacket back up, then went to look through the cupboards. He barely knew what was even available for breakfast, it had been so long since he’d last eaten here.

“So…” Wilbur said cautiously as Fundy inspected a loaf of bread. “What happened yesterday?”

“What do you mean?” He’d maybe been staring at the bread too long. He made himself take a couple slices out and take them over to the toaster.

“Don’t play dumb.”

It had been a genuine question – he hadn’t been sure whether Wilbur was concerned about his sudden hysterics or once again asking about the situation with school. Assuming the latter, he said, “I didn’t destroy any school property. There was a hole in the fence, but that wasn’t-”

“No, I meant-” Wilbur cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. “Why do you always assume the worst of me? I was asking what was wrong, Fundy – I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry like that before.”

Because every other time he’d cried like that, there had been a locked door between them. Fundy stared silently at the toaster until it popped; he didn’t want to answer, but he felt like he should probably say something, if only to get Wil to stop asking. His mind spun for a moment, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, before he remembered that he’d mentioned Jack to Wilbur previously as the one school friend coming to his birthday lunch. That would have to be changed, so he supposed he might as well tell the truth this time.

“I, uh… I got into an argument with Jack,” he said. “We’re not friends anymore, so-”

His breath caught as Wilbur stifled a laugh. “Sorry, sorry, I-”

“Wil,” he heard Phil say, a warning tone in his voice.

“Sorry! I just- I mean,” he said all in a rush, “it is kind of funny that the one friend you’ve actually told me about becomes not your friend so soon after you mentioned him!”

“Wilbur-”

“What?” Wil asked, addressing Phil now. “It’s not- I’m not- I’m just saying that it’s kind of funny! Y’know, after Fundy was so secretive about him – about all his so-called ‘friends’... Well, I’ve got to be honest, I was kind of starting to suspect he just didn’t have any! It seems like something he’d lie about. Either that or that they were bad news and, considering the state this Jack fellow left him in, I now believe it’s the latter. Good riddance, I say.” He paused for a moment before saying, “But still, taking a step back, it’s kind of ironic that the first person he actually invited over is being uninvited over only a couple days later.”

There was a stretch of silence, broken only by Phil’s sigh and the sounds of Tommy and Tubbo upstairs. Fundy couldn’t stop staring at his toast, slightly burned around the edges, as the numbness from the day before threatened to creep in yet again. He was sure Wilbur was waiting for him to respond.

“Why don’t you invite anyone around?” Wilbur eventually asked.

Clearer than the memory of his mother’s face was the sharp crack of Wilbur hitting Schlatt, the only reward he’d gotten for saving Fundy from a wild hound and bringing him back to his parents, for literally saving Fundy’s life. Before he’d known about their history, he’d often wondered if a punch in the face was what his life was worth to Wilbur. Even now he knew, it could be hard to convince himself otherwise.

He bit his tongue and left the house.

Chapter Text

It was hard for Fundy to make himself go to school instead of finding somewhere to hide out for the day – harder still when he passed by the bus stop and saw that Jack wasn’t there. Even though it had been expected, it still hurt. He blamed the tightness in his throat on the dry toast and pressed on.

School was a whole separate can of worms, as he was pulled aside as soon as he entered to spend the entire morning talking with the school principal and police and others about the day before. Eventually they conceded that he probably didn’t melt literal metal, but still, he could tell they all still suspected that he’d had something to do with it, or at least that he knew more about how it had happened than he was letting on. They were right, but he was still annoyed. He was given detention for skipping school and Mrs. Imporus strongly implied that his next bout of troublemaking would be his last – Fundy couldn’t quite smother the fear those words struck in him enough to keep from flinching, though thankfully she was too distracted to notice.

He was finally allowed to leave when the lunch bell rang. Hafu waylaid him outside the office to check if he was still coming down the paths and it was a struggle to say that he would. Jack would be down there, he knew, but he’d already made the decision of magic over Jack, so the least he could do was actually see it through. Otherwise, what would have been the point? She seemed troubled at his response, but didn’t argue, simply nodding and telling him to get someone to accompany him down for safety. He sent a quick text to 5up and made a detour to the gym to grab a weapon, just in case.

When he reached the cafeteria, he fell into the seat beside Dream with a weary sigh. He didn’t want to check his bag to see what lunch he had quite yet – in all the mess today and yesterday, Wilbur might have forgotten to pack it – so he just leaned into Dream as he greeted the table.

Dream put an arm around his shoulders. “You okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to Fundy’s temple. “You seem…”

“I’m fine,” he said, not wanting to hear how he might look – it’d just be some variant on sad and tired, he was sure. But this was the first chance he’d had to properly relax since saying goodbye to Eret and he didn’t want his bad mood to get in the way of it.

Still, Red made ignoring the matter difficult as he sat forwards, putting his chin in his hands, and asked, “How come you were in the principal’s office all morning?”

What was the quickest answer he could give that wasn’t a blatant lie? “They were asking about the hole in the school fence,” he said, pulling his bag close to rifle through and hoping the motion came across as casual rather than restless.

“The hole in the school fence?” Ant asked, eyes wide. “Is that what’s under the tarp?”

Fundy stared back at him. “They didn’t tell me it was meant to be secret.” He supposed it made sense, since it was a way for students to get out, but he was proof enough it wasn’t necessary.

Red cocked his head to one side, watching Fundy with sharp curiosity, and asked, “Did you really not have anything to do with it?”

“I really didn’t do it! I mean, how the fuck they think I managed to melt a hole in the school fence is beyond me.” His bag, which had been devoid of lunch, returned to the floor.

“But how did it happen, though?”

“How would I know?” he asked, pushing aside the urge to keep avoiding Red’s gaze. “Just because I saw it doesn’t mean I saw how it got there. I was too busy skipping class.”

Red considered him for a moment before leaning forwards, his elbows braced against the table. “Was it Jack?”

He managed to do a good job of suppressing his shock, all things considered – probably only Dream noticed how he’d frozen at the question. “Why, uh- How would Jack do it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging, “but I heard you guys got in a massive argument yesterday and aren’t talking anymore, and if the fence being broken wasn’t you…”

“Again,” he said, forcing a jovial tone, “melted metal. You really think Jack would bring a blowtorch or something to school?”

“Hm…” His mouth twisted a little, the corner lifting in a musing smile. “I wouldn’t put it past him, certainly.”

“It wasn’t Jack,” he said, waving Red off. He even managed to make it sound convincing.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Red said, sitting back again. “But what were you guys even arguing about? I mean, HBomb made it sound pretty bad.”

That explained how Red heard about the argument. He shrugged, unsure how to respond, and Ant asked, “Was it about you hanging out with the student council more?”

“I’m not hanging out with them,” Fundy said, “I’m just trying to salvage what’s left of my school record.”

“But I thought I saw you and 5up together yesterday.”

“And you guys were holding hands,” Red said, raising his eyebrows and looking pointedly at Dream.

Fundy felt Dream kick Red under the table. “Stop.”

“But that wouldn’t have been about your school record, right?” Ant asked, ignoring the other two as they devolved into a foot battle.

“No, it wasn’t,” Fundy admitted. “We were just talking – he came by my work to ask about the Jack thing and- and everything.” He pressed against Dream’s side, dropping his head onto his shoulder. “I wish you’d do that. I’ve been missing you.”

Dream broke off the fight with Ant and kissed the top of Fundy’s head. “I would if I could,” he said. “But hey, we’ve got that date today, at least!”

“True!” He’d almost forgotten about it, and the reminder brought a genuine smile to his face.

The conversation moved on then, which Fundy was grateful for. He felt almost normal when 5up came over – his arrival igniting a hushed argument between Red and Dream that Fundy knew probably wasn’t serious from the grins on both their faces. He left Dream with a kiss and a few pilfered chips, clinging to his improved mood for as long as possible.

The halls were empty and silent as he and 5up walked through them, broken only by their footsteps before, in a quiet voice, 5up commented, “It’s good to see you more yourself.”

He hesitated for a step, smile faltering. “Yeah. I- yeah.” Taking a deep breath, he made himself say, “Thank you, by the way. For your help.”

5up glanced over his shoulder with a strangely soft smile – one Fundy was wholly unused to – and said, “I’m happy that I was able to help.”

Thankfully, he turned back before he could notice the warmth that had risen to Fundy’s cheeks and they fell into complete silence as they continued on.

It wasn’t that Fundy had been growing comfortable in the paths, not when almost every trip down them had been some kind of awful, but the pitch-black corridor had become almost familiar. Familiar enough for Fundy to zone out a little as they entered, his gaze fixed on the blue crystal – ice, was it? – that 5up held aloft, the faint glow guiding the path forward just as it had when he’d followed Hafu. The first sign that something was wrong was the way 5up paused at the junction, his head snapping to the left.

The second was the dark mass that slammed into Fundy’s side.

He fell to the floor, crushed under the weight of something – a monster, he realised, as sharp teeth clamped around his shoulder, held at bay by the leather jacket. A moment later, the monster was knocked loose and cool hands clasped Fundy’s, trying to drag him to his feet. It was a struggle to understand 5up’s voice, the murmur of, “get up, come on, we need to get moving,” that was almost entirely drowned out by the sound of his own heart hammering.

Then 5up’s voice cut off, which was so much worse. Fundy, now standing, grabbed at 5up’s arm – he was still there, he was still alive, he didn’t even seem to be hurt – before looking around. Glowing eyes stared back at him from three directions, blocking off every path but the one back to the school. There were so many-

“Go back,” 5up said suddenly, pushing Fundy in the direction of the door. Fundy willed his legs to move, to do as 5up said and fucking go, but he had only taken one step back on trembling legs when the eyes all rushed towards them. He felt 5up release him and turn away and in the next moment, the air between them and the monsters was filled with roaring flames.

It didn’t stop them.

Three leapt through the fire, the illumination from the fire now revealing them to be shaggy dog-like creatures – Fundy felt his breath catch, torn between laughter because of fucking course they were dogs, and screaming as one of them slammed into him again, claws raking across his front as they fell to the ground. With his jacket hanging open, there was nothing to stop them from tearing into him. His yell was cut off by a cough, something warm and metallic filling his mouth-

Blood. That was blood in his mouth. He shoved at the monster on his chest, blind panic overwhelming him, but he couldn’t put any strength behind it - 5up couldn’t help, Fundy could hear the sickening sound of sizzling flesh as he fought the other monsters - and all he could think was that at least he wasn’t dying at home before his thoughts were drowned out by another burst of pain from his shoulder.

The monster froze, its muscles tensing beneath his hands. This time, when he tried to shove it, it fell back easily, drawing its claws out of the mess it had made of his stomach and its teeth from his mangled shoulder. It was all he could do to roll over onto his less-damaged arm and muffle his coughs in the crook of his elbow.

And then laughter echoed around the paths.

When Fundy looked for the source of the sound, he was disturbed to find that it was the monster, teeth still red with his blood. The sound was so human and overflowing with pure amusement that he struggled to make sense of it.

Nothing was moving – nothing except the laughing monster, swaying and hopping in place. 5up had stopped beside Fundy, one hand hovering in the air between them, and even the other monsters didn’t seem to know what to do.

Fundy pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain radiating from his injuries and trying to ignore the way his skin crawled at the endless laughter. From his pocket, he pulled the baseball bat he’d stolen earlier, which he swung with all his strength at the monster’s torso. There was a crack and the monster’s breath hitched before it continued laughing, though there was a whistling edge to the sound now. He aimed his next strike at the monster’s head and the following silence rang in his ears.

He stood for a moment, watching the monster melt down into some kind of boneless goop, before turning to 5up and asking, “What the fuck?”

“That’s a good question.” There was something blurring Fundy’s vision, so it was only when 5up approached that he could make out his face, pale and pinched. He reached for Fundy’s shoulder, only to pause as he flinched. “I’m just going to heal it.”

“Right.” He turned his head to the side, willing himself to remain still. 5up’s hands were cold and firm as they held his arm, cutting through the fog clouding Fundy’s mind.

In the time it took 5up to move from his shoulder to his stomach, Fundy had managed to calm his breathing and blink the tears out of his eyes, though he still couldn’t fully relax - he doubted he’d ever be able to relax again.

“We should get moving,” 5up said at last, pulling back with a nervous glance down the dark corridors. Fundy couldn’t agree more, but when 5up started heading towards the sanctuary instead of back towards the school, it was the hardest thing in the world to take a step and follow.

Still, it was a relief to finally step into the warm light. As they entered, he saw Jack pacing by the back wall and Hafu sitting at the table – they might have been talking, but both fell still and silent as they stared at Fundy and 5up. He knew he looked a mess, covered in blood and tear-stained, and he tried to avoid Jack’s burning gaze.

“What happened?” Hafu asked, rising to her feet. “Are either of you hurt?”

“Monsters, and no,” 5up said. “There were six of them at the intersection – Hafu, they-”

“Six?” Jack cut in. “That’s not possible!”

“At least six,” Fundy said, figuring he should give his own perspective. “I think I counted over ten pairs of eyes, actually, but we only got attacked by six.”

“No, no- listen,” Jack said, striding towards them. “I was here this fucking morning and I took down ten then – they don’t recover that quick! And I checked the paths again before you arrived and there was nothing-”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

He asked the question quietly, but it struck Jack silent regardless. He turned from Fundy to Hafu, taking a step back, and she paused before saying, “If you both say you got attacked by six monsters, then I believe you.” It stung that they only seemed to believe him because 5up was backing him up, despite the evidence of the attack covering his torso, but he bit his tongue as Hafu continued, “That is concerning, though. They don’t tend to recoup their numbers that quickly.”

“You think that’s concerning?” 5up asked. “Hafu, one of them laughed.”

She looked up at him, her previously thoughtful expression now tinged with horror. “What do you mean, ‘laughed’?” she asked.

“I mean,” he gestured to Fundy, “it bit him and laughed. Wouldn’t even attack us anymore! And the others seemed... I don’t know, scared or something – they ran back down the paths once the laughing one was dead.”

She frowned, a wrinkle appearing in her brow. “They haven’t made any kind of noise before – you’re sure it was a laugh?” she asked.

He shrugged, spreading his hands. “Honestly couldn’t say. But…” He met Fundy’s gaze. “But, if you’re asking my opinion, it definitely seemed amused to me.” He let his hands drop and added, “I don’t think we can deny that the monsters have some degree of sentience anymore.”

Hafu considered his words for a moment before turning to Fundy. “I don’t suppose this would convince you to stay away?”

Fundy could feel the other two watching him. He shook his head and, before he could say anything, Jack gave a sharp exhale and shoved past him and 5up towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Hafu called after him.

Fundy was surprised when Jack actually stopped and answered, “There are apparently at least five monsters still roaming, and the first-years are going to be down soon. What we thought we knew about them needing time to recover is wrong.” He turned his head just enough to fix Fundy with a glare. “So, I’m going to clear the paths out.” With biting sarcasm, he added, “Assuming that’s alright with you, boss.”

She sighed and waved him off. “Fine. Be careful.”

“As ever.”

He left, and Fundy stared after him until he was completely swallowed up by the darkness – he felt like he should have said something more.

“We should increase the number of patrols, if this is true,” Hafu said. “I wonder why they suddenly have more forces?”

“Maybe they’ve been splitting them to this point,” 5up said, following Hafu to the table.

“That’s a worrying thought – were others fighting them?”

“Or maybe they were just searching other places. I mean, that’s what seems to be their purpose, right? Searching?”

There was a long silence and Fundy finally turned back to the room, finding both of them sneaking glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

Hafu stood tall, looking at him head-on. “They laughed when they bit you, right?”

“Right,” he said, feeling very uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

“Is there a chance-?” She turned back to 5up, who shrugged.

“There’s always a chance. But why?”

She sighed and sat back down. “Well, add that to the list of questions we have surrounding you,” she said, glancing at Fundy again. She pointed towards one of the other arches. “You can wash up through there, spare shirts in one of the hampers. You’ve already been healed, right?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded and turned her attention to what seemed to be homework, sitting on the table before her – he stifled a laugh at the absurd normality and went through the arch.

5up followed behind him, rubbing at dried spots of blood on his hands until they flaked away. “Do you think,” he asked quietly, not looking up from his hands, “that could have anything to do with your scar?”

Fundy paused in searching through a hamper. “Uh- I guess it could be?” He stared down at his sleeve, the scar that lay just beneath it. He could at least be confident in saying, “But I’ve never seen one of those monsters before today.”

“Can you tell me now the three options?” 5up asked. “Just in case-”

“Uncle’s dogs, some kind of feral hound, or a fox,” he said quickly. “And I remember what all of them looked like, and none of them were like that. None of them bit me that I can remember either, but- I suppose that doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“’Some kind of feral hound’?”

“I don’t know if it was a dog or a wolf or what.” He grabbed a shirt at random and held it up, just for something to do with his hands. It seemed like about his size. “I know it was big, and it had brown fur, but I was, like, two, I really don’t remember what it looked like.” He remembered claws and teeth and a growl that had shook him to his core – it had turned into a monster in his mind, but so different from the real monsters that lay in the paths. It had been sunny that day, throwing those sharp edges into sharper relief, a world away from the ink-on-shadow of these paths.

“Okay,” 5up said, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs. “Then… I think that just raises more questions. Can you think of any reason for that reaction?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Fuck no. I mean, sure, there’s something weird going on with my magic, but it’s not like monsters would find that funny, would they?” How embarrassing would it be if he was even being mocked by the monsters for his lack of magic? No, he was sure there had to be another explanation, even if he didn’t know what. “I’m going to go get changed,” he said, bundling the shirt under one of his arms and jerking his thumb towards the doors.

5up’s eyes darted up to meet his. “Let me know if there are any problems with your wounds,” he said, and Fundy gave him a thumbs up before leaving.

It was a special kind of painful to see the blood covering the jacket’s inner lining, all those delicate floral patterns now forever stained. He ran it under the tap, unsurprised that it didn’t help any, and sighed as he set it aside. It would be a pain to clean – could he get Tommy to embroider it again if he replaced the lining? His sweatshirt and undershirt were both similarly ruined, though he was far less attached to those. It was strange to just be wearing a t-shirt, though, leaving his arms feeling naked. He ran a hand over his scar, reminding himself that no one else would even notice it, before a thought occurred to him and he yanked down the collar of his shirt.

His shoulder was whole. There wasn’t even any scarring. He supposed that made sense, what with 5up healing him up, but he couldn’t shake his discomfort. His chest, when he checked it, was also intact. He gathered his things and left, frowning.

“Hey, uh-”

5up looked up, his whole form tense. “Hm? You okay?”

Would asking the question on his mind make things worse? He dropped everything into another chair as he thought about it. “I… was just wondering,” he said, rubbing his own wrist, “how much you, uh- healed my shoulder?”

“It’s going to leave a scar,” he said, tone apologetic. “I would have healed it more, but-”

He held up his hands. “Wait, wait, hold on.” When 5up fell silent, he reached for his collar and tugged it down, his eyes trained on 5up’s face.

5up’s eyes widened in shock, quickly replaced by confusion and then a thoughtful frown. “It looks completely healed to me,” 5up said, meeting Fundy’s gaze again. “You?”

“The same.” He released his collar and rubbed at his neck. “What… does that mean?”

“You might have some healing powers, would be my best guess.” 5up was staring at his shoulder again. “Do you get injured often?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Kinda often. Less nowadays, though.”

“And do you heal quickly?”

“Not noticeably,” he said, picking his jacket up and grimacing at the still-damp lining. He wanted to put it on as another barrier between the scars that weren’t and the rest of the world, but he didn’t want to stain this new shirt, so he kept it in his hands as he said, “Nobody else has ever noticed anything odd either.”

“Have you been injured since stepping through the door?” 5up asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I… don’t remember.” He tried to think back over the past two weeks. “I don’t think so?”

5up didn’t speak for a few seconds. “How opposed would you be-”

“Very opposed,” he said quickly. “If you’re asking if I’m willing to get hurt in the name of science, fuck that.”

“That’s fair,” 5up said, getting to his feet. “Okay, just keep an eye on what happens if you do get injured again. My current main theories are that you’ve just unlocked this ability since trying – and maybe succeeding – in using magic, or that it specifically kicked in because your life was in danger-”

“But how certain even are we that this is a me thing?” Fundy asked. “How do we know you didn’t just heal me more than you thought you did?”

5up shrugged, though he didn’t seem convinced by the possibility. “I suppose that could have happened. But, assuming it didn’t, could you keep an eye on any potential injuries you get?”

“Okay.” He put his ruined shirt into one of his jacket pockets, relieved to see that the blood didn’t seem to be impacting its bottomless abilities, and slung the jacket over his arm as he turned back to 5up. “And… what you and Hafu were saying, about the chance…”

“That the monsters were searching for you,” 5up said, confirming Fundy’s suspicions. He looked at Fundy out of the corner of his eye, somewhere between assessing and sympathetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“That does help a bit, yeah,” he said, dropping his gaze to his jacket. “But what now?”

“Let’s see if Hafu’s had any thoughts,” 5up said, and they left.

~

Fundy’s mind was abuzz for the rest of the day. No one had had any thoughts about the laughing monster, and even Tubbo’s curiosity was dampened by unease. Such was his distraction, that he walked straight out of school when the bell rang, only realising his mistake when he got a message from 5up.

5up: Did you forget about your detention?

He stared at the phone, dragging his mind back over the day’s events. The sanctuary – the monsters – lunch with Dream – getting given detention by the principal. His breath hissed through his teeth and he quickly tapped out a response.

Fundy: yea, i did
5up: Well, this whole ‘staying out of trouble’ thing is off to a great start!
Fundy: i’m sorry, i really did forget!
Fundy: could i do it another day?
5up: You could come back right now and they might believe you
Fundy: i’m busy, tho, and also i don’t want to
5up: A compelling argument, to be sure.
Fundy: my jacket still stinks of blood, i need to get changed

There was a long gap before 5up’s response – long enough for Fundy to make it home. He put his phone away as he went in, barely sparing the time to kick his shoes off before he rushed upstairs. He could hear Wilbur calling after him, confused – worried, maybe – but he ignored him for now and went up to his room.

His jacket, he dropped in a corner, pulling a face at the dark reddish-brown stains still covering the lining and making a mental note to replace at least said lining. Maybe he could cut patches out of the old one to keep the bottomless pockets, as the pocket areas themselves were relatively free of blood. Probably something to check with Tubbo first, though, he didn’t understand enough about how magic worked to be sure he wouldn’t just break them.

He was just pulling off his shirt when his phone buzzed again. He tossed the shirt towards the hamper – it was a decent shirt, might as well keep it – before turning his attention to the message.

5up: When would you be free for detention? And ‘never’ is not an appropriate response, I’m afraid
Fundy: this weekend, maybe? i’ve got work until five, but after that i should be free
5up: I’ll see what I can do

Much as he hated the thought of going to detention at a weekend, he supposed he should make an effort to attend, for 5up’s sake if nothing else. He pulled on a clean shirt and debated whether to wear a sweatshirt – it would be chilly, and he was still uncomfortable leaving his arms bare, but it wasn’t really good date-wear, was it? He searched through the rest of his clothes, hoping there’d be something tucked away in a back corner he’d forgotten about that would solve his dilemma, but he came up empty. He made another mental note, this time for a spare leather jacket, as it was apparently an integral part of his day-to-day wardrobe, before grabbing a sweatshirt and leaving.

“What are you doing back so early?” Wilbur asked as he came back down the stairs.

“I was just getting changed before my date,” he said, keeping his gaze turned away from Wilbur as he pulled his shoes back on.

“When will you be back?” There was a hint of steel in Wil’s voice now, which was weird.

“I don’t know. Later.”

Wilbur sighed and muttered something under his breath before saying, “Okay, now that you have a boyfriend, you and I probably need to have a talk-”

“What.” He stared at Wil with wide eyes, cheeks warming. “Um- please say this isn’t the talk.”

“It’s important, Fundy,” Wil said, face impassive. “You need to keep safe-”

“I already know this!” he said quickly, springing to his feet. “And- and we aren’t even- I don’t want to do this!”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about-”

“I’m not!” he cried, his voice high-pitched with embarrassment. “I- I’m going to be late.”

Wilbur’s arm shot out, barring him from the door. “Hold on a moment! You’ve at least got to tell me where you’re going and who with,” he said.

“No I don’t!”

“Fundy-”

The door opened and Wil drew back, turning towards it as Tommy and Tubbo entered. In the same instant, Fundy grabbed his bag and shoved past them, running down the street before anyone could stop him. He heard Wil shout after him, but it was easy to tune out as the pavement passed beneath his feet.

Fundy tried to shake off the last of his discomfort as he came to a halt in the centre of town, looking around for Dream. They hadn’t really set a definite location to meet, but it wasn’t that crowded and therefore wasn’t hard to spot him, sitting on a wall and staring at his phone with a slight frown.

“Penny for the thoughts?” Fundy asked as he approached.

Dream jumped and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Oh! Uh- Fundy!”

“Hi!” He waved, giving an awkward smile. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, just-” His eyes darted back down to his phone, before he grimaced and put it away. “Just family stuff. You know how it is.”

He nodded and took a seat on the wall too, only for his stomach to twist as Dream leaned just slightly away from him. He left the space between them, trying not to take it to heart, and asked, “Do you maybe want to raincheck, then?”

Dream glanced at Fundy out of the corner of his eye. “No, it’s alright,” he said, giving a smile that looked forced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Taking a deep breath, he deliberately scooted closer and leaned against Fundy’s side. “Sorry, I’m just distracted,” he said, his voice dropping into something more normal, “but I’ve missed you and I do want to hang out! Promise.”

“Same,” Fundy said, gaze dropping to the floor. “With the missing you and the wanting to do things, but also the distraction. It’s been a weird day.”

“That makes two of us.”

Before Fundy could say anything further, he was shocked by Tommy skidding to a halt and taking a picture of them with his phone. “Are you Fundy’s boyfriend, then?” he asked. “What’s your name? Where do you live? Who’s your parents? Are you planning to-”

Fundy shot to his feet and tried to snatch the phone out of Tommy’s hands. “What are you doing?” When Tommy just laughed, dancing out of his reach, he turned to Tubbo, trailing behind him, and asked, “Did Wilbur put you up to this?”

“I mean,” Tubbo said, “to be fair, I wouldn’t say it’s unreasonable for him to ask who you’re dating.”

“I think it’s well weird to keep your boyfriend secret like this,” Tommy said, tapping at his phone. To Dream, he asked, “So what is your name?”

“Dream?” he said hesitantly, voice lifting at the end. “Are you two… Fundy’s brothers, or-”

“Uncles, actually,” Tommy said, and he reached out to tweak a lock of Fundy’s hair. “Just looking out for our little baby nephew!”

Fundy glared at him, cheeks hot with embarrassment. “I seriously hate you so much.”

“You should respect your elders, young man!” Tommy was still grinning, which just pissed Fundy off more. “Now, Dream – what’s your surname?”

“Aiken.”

“Dream Aiken, eh?” He tsked, shaking his head. “Now that’s the name of a wrong’un if I ever heard one. And where do you live?”

Dream laughed, the sound incredulous. “What? I’m not just going to tell you where I live, that’s-”

“The sign of a guilty conscience, that is,” Tommy said to Tubbo, who nodded solemnly. “And what about your parents?”

“Don’t have any,” he said. “I live with my brothers.”

“Give us their contact details, then.”

“What?”

“Come on, cough up!”

Fed up, Fundy gave Tommy a hard shove, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Could you just leave?”

“Hey, wait,” Tommy said, laughing, “are you actually upset?”

The laughter grated on his ears. He balled his hands into fists, willing himself to not just lash out at Tommy again. “Yes!” he said. “I am!”

“Okay, okay, we’ll leave after one more question.” He turned to Dream. “What are your intentions-”

He grabbed Tommy’s wrist and started dragging him back towards the main road, ignoring his protests and continued spluttering laughter. He could spot Phil’s car sitting a little distance away and stopped, not wanting to get too close – the only thing worse than Tommy ruining his date would be Wil doing so.

“You’re actually hurting me,” Tommy said, trying to twist out of his grip. “Like, actually hurting me.”

He let go of Tommy, wincing at the white handprint on his wrist that was starting to turn red, before asking, “Can you please just leave me alone?”

Tommy huffed, rubbing his wrist. “You could have just said, you didn’t have to grab me like that-”

“I did say!”

“Well…” He shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. “I’m just saying, you got some fucking anger issues.”

Fundy sighed, the remnants of his anger curdling into further embarrassment. “Just… piss off, alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” he said, peering at his wrist. “I’m telling Wil you hurt me, though.”

He glared at the pavement, wanting to ask Tommy to not but knowing he didn’t really have a leg to stand on and that Tommy would probably just find his protests more amusing than anything – that seemed to be the mood he was in, and it was wearing on Fundy’s already frayed nerves something awful. To avoid giving Tommy more ammunition, he strode past him and Tubbo without another word.

“What happened?” Dream asked as he returned. He was standing now, shifting his weight between his feet and looking between Fundy and the direction he’d stormed off with a worried expression.

“Nothing,” Fundy said. “Just… Tommy.”

A grimace flitted across Dream’s face. “Uh, yeah, he seemed… like a lot.” He hesitated before asking, “Are they really your uncles?”

“Unfortunately.”

“But they’re younger than you… right?”

He gave Dream a confused look. “Yeah? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just seems kind of weird,” he said. “What’s your other uncle’s name? The shorter one, who didn’t say much?”

“Tubbo.”

“And Wilbur is…?”

He sighed, rubbing his face. “My father.”

“Oh…” Dream nodded. “Makes sense why he’d be asking about that, then.” He looked at Fundy sidelong, expression unreadable, and asked, “Do you… really keep me secret?”

“Not really,” he said. “I told them I had a boyfriend, I just didn’t say who. My dad kind of sucks, so it just- I’d rather he not know who my friends and, uh, boyfriend are. So much for that.” He muttered the last part to himself, glancing over his shoulder to check no one was coming after them again. There wasn’t anyone – yet – so he turned back to Dream and asked, “Hey, can we go somewhere?”

“Sure,” Dream said. “Where?”

“Literally anywhere.”

Dream laughed and looked around. “Um… Well, we could always go back to my place?” he said, smiling at Fundy. “My brothers are out for the day, so it should be a good place to hide out from weird family stuff.”

He nodded, breathing a sigh of relief, and took Dream’s offered hand. “Lead the way!”

~

Dream’s house was nice, though with the same kind of semi-artificial emptiness that he’d seen around Ranboo’s house too, only barely looking like a place that was lived in. There were scattered pictures of Dream at various ages, a few having an older man with dark hair and eyes that he assumed was one of Dream’s brothers – they had the same smile, though the man otherwise looked nothing like Dream. They were the only two people in any of the photos, so he guessed Dream’s other brother wasn’t a fan of having his picture taken. Fundy could relate.

“Come on,” Dream said after locking the door, “let me show you my room!”

He led Fundy up the stairs, past several closed doors to one that bore Dream’s name, written on it in childish lettering with bright green paint which had been faded by the years. Fundy smiled at it while Dream just rolled his eyes, giving a self-deprecating smile.

“Just ignore that,” he said, pushing the door open. “It’s not- it’s nothing.”

“It’s cute!”

“Because cute is definitely the vibe I’m going for, yep.”

Fundy laughed as he followed Dream in, though his laughter died as he stared at the most expensive room he’d ever laid eyes on. There was a computer on a desk in the corner that probably cost ten times the money Fundy had saved up from working and a TV hanging on the wall beside a bookcase crammed with DVDs and games. The most mundane element was the bed, with a blanket hanging off and one of the pillows knocked to the floor.

“That’s the bathroom,” Dream said, pointing at one of the two doors on the wall opposite, “if you needed it.”

“What’s the other one?”

“Closet.”

He considered the fact that Dream had both an ensuite and a walk-in closet, then promptly shook that thought off before he started feeling self-conscious. “Do you, uh- should I take my shoes off?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dream said. He walked into the centre of the room and kicked at his pillow. “Yeah, just- sorry about the mess. What did you want to do?”

“Maybe we could watch a movie?” he asked, glancing at the DVDs.

“Good idea!” He went over to the shelf and Fundy followed, skimming the titles. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

“I think,” Fundy said, “you’ve seen my favourite movie, it’s only fair you show me yours, right?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think I really have a favourite, though! They’re just…” He let his words trail off and shrugged.

“Well, I don’t know a lot of these,” Fundy admitted.

“Then let’s go for…” Dream hummed, crouching to look through some of the lower shelves, before pulling one out and saying, “This looks interesting!”

It was an animated movie called ‘Spirited Away’ which had a dragon on the cover, catching Fundy’s interest. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t know, I just had it recommended to me a lot,” Dream said, turning it over to read the back. “It’s Studio Ghibli, though, and their movies tend to be good. Have you watched any of them?”

“Maybe.” The style looked vaguely familiar.

“Howl’s Moving Castle, Ponyo, Princess Mononoke, Kiki’s Delivery Service-”

“Oh, yeah, I watched Kiki’s Delivery Service!” Eret had brought it around to Niki’s shop once before Fundy had started working there – being crammed on the couch between Eret and Niki as they watched the movie together was still one of his most treasured memories. “Yeah, that was good, I liked it!”

“Hopefully this one will be too,” Dream said, getting to his feet and going over to the TV. “You can just sit on the bed – there’s not really anywhere else to sit, sorry.”

“I’m kind of surprised you’re not the type of person to have a whole couch in your room, honestly,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Who the hell has a couch in their room?”

“The same kind of person who has a TV in their room?”

Dream laughed and shook his head. “Okay, fair, but- but I still think this is more normal than a whole couch. Besides,” he said, glancing back at Fundy, “it’s not like I tend to invite people here.”

“What, you never invited anyone else you were dating ‘round to see a movie?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Nah, I usually went to theirs. I mean, this house is fun for parties, but not really for, like… just spending time with one other person.” He shrugged, tossing the DVD case aside and grabbing the remote. “Budge over, come on.”

“Let me take my shoes off first-”

“Who cares?”

He wrinkled his nose, looking up at Dream. “You wear your shoes on the bed?”

“Yeah?”

“You know, maybe we should break up now,” he said jokingly, getting to his feet.

“It’s not that weird!” Dream protested.

“It’s absolutely that weird! Shoes are for outside-place – you put them on the sleeping-place? The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Look, just,” he pushed Fundy back onto the bed, “it’s my bed, and I say it’s fine to wear your shoes. What does it matter to you?”

“I’m just starting to think we’re a bit less compatible than I thought,” he said, though he did shift to the side to give Dream room to sit.

“You like liquorice.”

“Those are two very different things.”

Dream sighed and dropped his head against Fundy’s shoulder. It was impossible to see his face from this angle, but his tone had turned melancholy as he said, “I really do like you, Fundy.”

“Wait, where’s this coming from?” he asked with a nervous laugh. “I’m not actually going to break up with you about the shoe thing, you know-”

“No, no, I just-” He took Fundy’s hand, entwining their fingers together. “I feel like… we’ve barely had any time together? And everything’s just going so quickly, I mean- it’s going to be your birthday soon! And then…” His voice trailed off and he nestled against Fundy’s side. “It’s just weird to me that this is only our second proper date.”

“But the lunches kind of count, don’t they?”

“Kind of, yeah. But I like hanging out with you away from school!”

“I like that too,” he said, frowning to himself. “You know, you could come visit me at the shop, though. My boss really wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“Nah, I don’t want to distract you.” He squeezed Fundy’s hand and drew his head back so he could meet Fundy’s gaze. He seemed nervous, which struck Fundy as odd, though he pushed that thought aside as Dream said, “I was thinking of throwing a party next Saturday, though, ‘cause I have the house to myself for the whole weekend – could you spare some time for that?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” he said, relieved to feel Dream relax. “That sounds like fun!”

“Great!” He gave Fundy a bright grin before settling back against his side and, with his free hand, reaching for the remote. “Okay, we should probably actually watch this.”

He let his head rest against Dream’s and, as the movie started, pretended that the entire world beyond this room – the world with its monsters and messy family drama and friends who weren’t really friends anymore – that it just didn’t exist. Eventually he’d have to return, but right now he didn’t want to think of anything but the warmth emanating from Dream and the story playing out on the screen. Even if just for a moment, it was a nice moment to exist in.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?” Fundy heard from behind him. Turning, he saw Tubbo standing halfway down the stairs, his hair mussed from sleep, though his gaze was bright and alert.

“Nothing,” he said, making no attempt to hide the bag of cereal or the container of chilli powder. Tubbo was smart enough to put the pieces together – either he’d rat Fundy out or he wouldn’t, but there was no point in doing anything to cover it up now.

Tubbo leaned over the banister. “Got pissy at Tommy for interrupting your date?”

“No.” He pointed towards the shoe pile. “I already stole all his shoelaces as revenge for that. This is because I remembered I hadn’t done anything about him telling Wilbur I ‘got in a fight with the student council’ which was a fucking lie and nearly got me home-schooled. So.” He patted the container. “Chilli powder.”

“He’s not going to eat it. He’s going to notice the smell and he’s not going to eat it.”

“Bold of you to assume Tommy would notice anything.”

“He has a sense of smell. And chilli has a real noticeable smell.”

“But he doesn’t have common sense, so maybe he’ll take a bite anyway?”

Tubbo laughed. “I still don’t think he will.”

“Well,” Fundy said, closing the bag so he could shake it and disperse the powder, “it’s not about whether or not he eats it, it’s about sending a message.”

“What, that you’ll spice his cereal for no obvious reason?”

“Maybe.”

Tubbo tumbled over the banister and gently floated to the chairs below. Once he’d landed, he got up and walked over to Fundy, picking up the chilli powder and wrinkling his nose. “God, this really stinks. There’s no chance Tommy’s going to eat it.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that now,” he said, putting the cereal bag back into the box.

“You could fill the bag with water to try and wash the spice off a bit.”

“That wouldn’t wash the spice off, that would just give me a bag of water and soggy cereal and chilli powder, which... actually sounds perfect, let’s do that!” He took the bag out again and carried it over to the sink to fill up.

“That’s gonna be some rank soup,” Tubbo said, putting the chilli powder away.

“Nah, it looks kinda tasty!” It absolutely did not look tasty, but Fundy gave Tubbo an enticing grin. “Do you want a bowl?”

“Yeah, to smash over your head! I’m not eating your evil soup!”

“Don’t call it evil, you’re going to hurt its feelings.”

“Good.”

He turned the tap off and went back over to the cereal box, looking between it and the bulging bag he held as he tried to figure out how to fit it in. “Soup can’t really have morality, anyway,” he said, drawing the box close.

“Somehow, your soup manages.”

“But what is good or evil to soup?”

“Well,” Tubbo said, with the tone of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were going to say next, but was planning to say it with every ounce of conviction they could muster, “evil soup tends to be fun soup, obviously. Like, soup made from glitter and the juice you get from glow sticks? Very fun! Also very evil – no matter how cool it is to glow in the dark. Lava? The funnest soup you can only have once, making it, therefore, evil.”

“What about mud soup?” Fundy asked, carefully sliding the bag in. He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he tried to make sure he didn’t spill anything.

“That’s morally grey – the world of soup is a complex one, Fundip.”

“Okay, fair.” He breathed a sigh of relief as it settled into its new home, then closed up the top of the box and put it back in the cupboard. “So, like, all the good soup – that’s all boring, then?”

“Yep.”

“Tomato, chicken, onion...?”

“Yep.”

“The ocean?”

Tubbo frowned, folding his arms. “Okay, but- okay, but, the ocean is evil. If you drink it, you die, making it, objectively, morally evil. It’s very evil, very fun soup. That... you swim in.”

“Which would also make it evil,” Fundy said, looking around the kitchen to make sure everything was back in its place. “Because that’s just unhygienic.”

“Exactly,” Tubbo said, nodding. “Swimming pools are the same, but less fun because they don’t have those horrifying creatures that try to eat your toes.”

“Sometimes they do. You don’t know the personal lives of everyone at the pool.”

He pulled a face. “Okay, I’m wearing socks the next time I go to the pool.”

“Same.”

“The fuck are you two talking about?”

They jumped and spun to face the stairs, where a very tired looking Phil was glaring at them.

“Uh, hi, grandpa!” Fundy said, folding his hands behind his back. “Sorry for waking you!”

“No, no sorry, I need an explanation, child.”

“Well, we- uh- I was hungry, and-”

“And I woke up with a craving for soup,” Tubbo said.

“No making soup in the middle of the night,” Phil said, speaking with the easy rhythm of someone who’d said those words before. “And what does that have to do with swimming pools?”

“People soup!” Tubbo waved his hands, wearing a bright grin.

Phil stared at them for what felt like an eternity before shaking his head and starting to climb the stairs again. “Just go to bed, you two.”

“Yep, going now.” Fundy flipped off the light and went to the stairs, hearing Tubbo following behind him.

“Can I have soup for breakfast tomorrow?” Tubbo asked.

“No,” Phil said. “We don’t have any in the house, and I’m not going out first fucking thing just to satisfy one of your weird cravings.”

Fundy heard Tubbo giggle behind him. “But- but surely we could make some?”

“Too much effort for morning time.” Phil waited by his door, pointing towards Tubbo’s room. “Bed. Now.”

“Okay,” Tubbo said, patting Fundy’s elbow as he slipped past. “Night, ‘dy.”

“Night, ‘bo,” he said, waiting until the landing was clear so he could pull down the ladder.

But, once Tubbo was gone, Phil was still standing there. Fundy felt his stomach twist as Phil gave him a tired look and said, “And what were you doing getting food in the middle of the night? Don’t we feed you enough?”

“I mean, you usually don’t,” he pointed out, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I get lunch at school, and breakfast and dinner with- with friends.”

“Oh. Right.” Phil sighed and rubbed at his face. “I keep forgetting how often you run out. But that still isn’t reason to go causing trouble in the middle of the night – people are trying to sleep, Fundy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, since it was the easiest way to avoid an argument.

“Sorry ain’t worth jack shit if you don’t change, child.”

He didn’t respond and, after a few seconds of silence, Phil went into his room and Fundy could finally go to bed.

The next morning, he sped through his morning routine, not wanting to stick around long enough for anyone to realise what he’d done. He made sure to snag his jacket where he’d left it drying on the back of a chair; 5up had texted him some advice on cleaning blood out of clothing last night, and though the lining was still discoloured and slightly damp, it was at least clean enough that he could pull it on as he left, relaxing into its comfortable weight. Of course, his fast pace did mean he skipped breakfast, but he also skipped another awkward conversation with Wil, so it evened out in his mind.

He came to regret not having grabbed anything by the time lunch finally rolled around, as he’d grown used to at least having breakfast in recent years, even if he sometimes skipped other meals. At least today’s sandwiches were ham, which, while boring, were edible, and there were Dream’s chips to steal too. He seemed distracted today - Fundy assumed it was family stuff again - which just made the thefts easier, and by the time he was heading into the paths with 5up, his hunger pangs had all but vanished.

This time, he was on edge as they walked through the darkness, baseball bat grasped tightly in his hands, but they reached the sanctuary without any issues. Hafu was already there, waiting to continue Fundy’s training; she looked up at their arrival with a troubled frown.

“Anything?” she asked. When they shook their heads, Fundy was disconcerted to see her frown deepen. “Jack and I haven’t seen any monsters today either.”

“Wait, none at all?” 5up said, eyes darting to Fundy.

She nodded, confirming, “Not a single monster since the ones who attacked you yesterday.”

Fundy’s stomach swooped and he took a seat, thinking back to the laughing monster and wondering yet again why it had acted so strangely. Now he had a new question to add to the pile: why had the monsters stopped attacking since then?

5up also sat, brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe we got too strong for them?” he suggested, sounding as if he barely believed his own words. “We do manage to kill them whenever they show up, after all, and our numbers are only growing.”

Hafu raised an eyebrow at him. “And their numbers are near-endless. No, between this and what happened yesterday, there’s something else going on.” She grimaced and muttered, “I just wish I knew what.”

There was nothing more to say, so 5up went to join Jack in patrolling and while Hafu and Fundy started the day’s training. Still, Fundy found himself struggling, distracted by thoughts about the monsters. He was so distracted that it took him a few moments to notice Tommy’s arrival, and even longer to realise he was being addressed.

“What the fuck, man?” Tommy called as soon as he entered, Tubbo and Ranboo close behind. “What did my cereal ever do to you?”

“Your...?” He stared blankly at Tommy.

But Tommy didn’t notice his confusion, eyes hard as he continued, “Phil’s well pissed, he said he was gonna beat your ass for wasting food like that-”

“Does your father beat you?” Hafu’s voice cut in, the question concerned in a way that made Fundy’s skin itch.

“No,” he was quick to say, forcing himself to focus. “Phil’s not my dad, and he’s never beat us.”

She stared up at him with folded arms and pressed, “But he threatens to?”

“He jokes that he will!” He looked at Tommy, who’d lost all steam at Hafu’s intervention, and said, “It’s just a joke, right, Tommy? He doesn’t actually- he wouldn’t actually hurt us.”

“Yeah, what Fundy said.” Tommy gave a sharp nod, an awkward grin tugging at his lips. “He’s just- He’s old, y’see, so- things were just different back then, but he’s- we’re fine. We’re great, actually, ‘cept for Fundy ‘cause he’s- Well, yeah.” He nodded again, then turned away and strode into the paths, uncomfortable as ever with serious conversations. Tubbo followed him, giving Fundy a grin that promised he’d catch him up on the morning’s chaos later, while Ranboo stayed behind, his expression caught between nervousness and concern.

Fundy turned to Hafu, who sighed and took a step back. “If you’re having any problems at home, the school can help,” she said.

That was a fucking lie, but Fundy said nothing, happy to end that conversation there.

Unfortunately, it didn’t remain that way for long, as 5up fell into step beside him as he left school and said, “Hafu told me about your conversation earlier.”

“The one with Tommy?” he asked, already knowing the answer but hoping to stall whatever 5up wanted to say.

“That’s the one.” He reached out, fingers slipping into place around Fundy’s wrist, before continuing, “You never did say whether your father hurt you.”

It wasn’t a question, but they’d moved past that game a while ago, hadn’t they? “He hasn’t,” he said, hesitating before admitting, “Not physically. No one’s ever done anything like that, don’t worry.”

5up gave him an unimpressed look and said, “Oh, I’m still worrying. You can’t stop me from worrying. But I’m glad to hear that, at least.” And then he fell silent as they approached the bus stop.

Fundy frowned, unsure if that was the end of the conversation, though he was soon distracted by the sight of Tommy and Tubbo waiting alongside Ranboo. The three were wrapped up in their own conversation, breaking off only to exchange greetings and for Tubbo to let Fundy know they’d be stealing Ranboo for the afternoon.

When the bus arrived, 5up got on with the rest of them, only increasing Fundy’s discomfort. He settled into his seat, a few rows away from the other three, and, as 5up sat beside him, he leaned over to ask in a hushed voice, “What’s on your mind?”

“Your father sucks,” 5up said, mimicking Fundy’s volume. “I know that much, and I find it hard to believe no one else does-”

“Really?” Fundy scoffed, ignoring the way 5up’s frown made his stomach twist. “No one gives a shit about troublemakers.”

“There was the counsellor last year,” 5up pointed out. “He said in his report that he gave you some details for organisations to offer further support-”

“Organisations to protect children. I’m practically an adult, what good would that do?”

“It’d do something. There are systems in place that can help, Fundy.”

Fundy shook his head and sat back. “Well, they didn’t.” He hadn’t even bothered to call the number he’d been given, recognising the service from when he was a child. They’d come around his house precisely once, when Tommy had accidentally mentioned him at school; Fundy remembered watching them approach through the window, hearing their muffled conversation with Wilbur, and watching as they left again, never to return. They hadn’t even known he was in the house.

5up gave him a narrow-eyed look, then said, “And what about the police?”

“He’s not a criminal.” When 5up drew a breath to retort, Fundy added, “And the police suck anyway, they’re more likely to drag me down to the station for skipping school than do anything helpful.” That had actually happened on one of his earliest attempts sneaking out of the house. He’d been suspected of truancy and kept for hours as they tried to figure out where he lived or how to contact his family, as he’d not known either his address or either Wil or Phil’s phone numbers. Eventually, they’d managed to get in contact with them, and Fundy had been taken home while Wil stayed to talk to the cops. They’d never followed up either, as far as Fundy was aware.

“But-”

Fundy shook his head again. “Look, can we just drop it? I don’t want to talk about it, especially not-” He waved a hand, gesturing to the bus around them. “It’s fine,” he said, dropping his hand. “It’s not as bad as whatever you’re imagining.”

5up frowned, clearly disagreeing with him, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t leave either, getting off the bus with Fundy and walking with him to the shop. He debated trying to dissuade 5up again, but decided against it; after all, maybe 5up just wanted to buy something.

He entered and prepared to take over the till, only to pause as Niki came out from the back, a plastic box clasped tightly in her hands.

“Fundy!” She greeted him with her usual hug, though it was one-armed this time.

“Niki!” He returned it and, when she pulled away, pointed at the box she was holding. “What’s that?”

She presented it to him, expression softening into something more sincere. “Breakfast,” she said. “For tomorrow. I’ll have something you can take home every day going forward, if that’s alright - it won’t be fresh, but- I just wanted to be sure you’d have something.”

He looked from the box to her face and back again, a lump rising in his throat that made it impossible to speak. Instead, he took it, handling it carefully - as though it was something precious - before pulling her into another hug. Her arms were tight and warm around him and he had to bury his head in her shoulder to keep from crying.

Eventually, he was able to mutter, “Thanks,” muffled though it was, and step back.

She smiled at him. “Of course! Let me know if you want anything specific, okay?” She waited for his nod before heading through to the back.

As he turned back to the register, he found that Puffy had already gone to look over the flowers and 5up was standing by the counter - where Jack usually stood - with a thoughtful frown on his face, dashing the last of Fundy’s hopes that he was done asking about Fundy’s family.

Sighing, he placed the box with the rest of his stuff and told 5up, “Say what you want to say before the rush arrives.”

5up’s frown twisted and he gestured towards the door Niki had left through. “She clearly cares about you, and you said you’ve known her for years, so why hasn’t she ever helped?”

“She has, though. She banned Wil from the shop and she lets me come over whenever I need somewhere to go-”

“And you still have to go home to whatever is going on there.”

“You don’t know what’s going on there.”

“True, but I’m not going to accept that it’s fine - she wouldn’t need to ban your father if it was.”

“And what could she do?” he asked, his agitation growing at the insinuation that one of the only adults he could rely on in his life had somehow failed him. “What could anyone do? People don’t listen to strangers over family.”

“They’d listen to you.”

“No one listens to me.” He stood from where he’d been leaning over the counter and looked away. “And I’m fine. Just- just a couple more years of school, and then I can leave. So it’s fine.”

5up considered him for a few seconds, and maybe he would have said something more, but a customer entered so he simply shook his head and stepped back. “Don’t forget about your detention tomorrow.”

“I won’t.” He plastered on a smile and waved as 5up left, relief mingling with disappointment; he shoved both aside to focus on work.

~

It was as he was leaving work that he got a flurry of messages that made his blood run cold.

Tubbo: you might want to get home
Tubbo: soon
Tubbo: in my defence, i thought you’d already explained things to Ranboo

He froze, staring down at the phone, mind scrambling for an explanation. Only one occurred to him.

Fundy: you brought ranboo home???
Tubbo: yeah?
Tubbo: Wil wanted to meet Tommy’s new friend
Tubbo: and then he got confused when Ranboo mentioned you and Ranboo got confused that he got confused
Tubbo: i managed to get Tommy to distract Wil - you’re welcome btw - but you should explain things to Ranboo
Tubbo: i’m not getting involved in your family drama :P

He scowled, taking off at a run down the street to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. It would take a few minutes for him to get back, a few minutes where anything might happen. He switched to Ranboo’s contact in the hopes of doing some damage control.

Fundy: i’m sorry for not telling you about my dad or my dad about you
Fundy: i don’t tell him about *anyone* it’s not a you thing

When the bus arrived, he barely looked up from his phone long enough to wave his pass and fall into an empty seat. It took a while for a response to come, and the words that appeared only made his stomach twist more.

Ranboo: I don’t get why you lied? He seems nice.

It was hard to figure out what to say to that, harder still when he didn’t want to burden Ranboo with the shitshow that was his life to this point. It still felt like they barely knew each other, and wasn’t he meant to be the one supporting Ranboo with his issues anyway? He typed out a few different attempts, but deleted every one, eventually deciding it would be better to talk in person and putting his phone away.

It felt like an eternity he sat there, waiting for his stop, the jostling of the bus making him more and more nauseous. Eventually, he got off, pausing for a moment to breathe in the cool evening air - it did barely anything to settle him - before he jogged down the street to his house.

The scene he found when he opened the door was disconcertingly normal; Tommy was talking Wilbur’s ear off about something or other while Phil was in the kitchen cooking supper. He couldn’t see Tubbo or Ranboo anywhere and for a moment he let himself hope that the latter had left already.

And then Tubbo appeared at the top of the stairs, beckoning him to follow. He kicked his shoes off, but carried them up with his bag, in case he needed to make a quick escape.

“Are you going to be sticking about?” Tubbo asked as he led Fundy into his room, where Ranboo was sitting awkwardly on the bed. “Because they’ve asked Ranboo to stay for dinner, and I don’t think there are enough seats if you stay too.”

He shook his head and gave Ranboo an awkward wave. To Tubbo, he said, “Don’t worry, I’m heading straight out after this.”

“Good, because I’m not sitting on anybody’s lap.” With that, he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

Fundy stood in the middle of the room, looking anywhere but at Ranboo, before he could gather the courage to say, “I- I really am sorry. About... this.”

“It’s fine,” Ranboo said, the words sounding like an automatic response. He paused for a couple seconds, then, in a more confused tone, asked, “But, um- Why did you lie? And- and where’s your mother?”

This was the worst. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to respond. “She left,” he eventually admitted. “Like, years ago. I don’t know why, my dad doesn’t talk about it.”

“Sounds like that runs in the family.” There was another pause, then a rushed, “I’m sorry, that was meant to be a joke-”

He snorted and Ranboo fell silent. “You’re fine, it was a good joke!”

“Oh. Uh- thank you.” He heard Ranboo shift and clear his throat. “So... you still haven’t said why.”

“Because I don’t know what to say.” He finally looked over, meeting Ranboo’s gaze as best he could, and said, “My dad’s not a bad person. I mean, Tommy loves him! He’s just-” He grimaced, eyes darting to the ceiling. “He’s not a good dad.”

Ranboo’s brow furrowed. “But what does that mean? I mean- should I be not saying things around him, or...?”

“Don’t mention Eret,” he said quickly. “He hates Eret. You can talk about Niki and the shop, but don’t talk about him when you’re there, because Niki and Puffy hate him. He’s actually banned from the shop - maybe should’ve mentioned that, but he doesn’t tend to show up there unless I’ve disappeared so it should be fine?”

“He’s banned?” Ranboo stared at him, shoulders tense.

Fundy let out a breath and tried a smile as he said, “To give me somewhere safe, they said.”

Ranboo drew himself up and lowered his voice, suddenly serious, as he asked, “Does he hurt you?”

“No.” The answer came quick, albeit with a grimace. “No, he’d do everything in his power to keep me from getting hurt, up to and including keeping me locked in my room for- for years.” Upon admitting the truth, he felt his shoulders sag, some tension in his chest unwinding a little, though it only made him feel sicker. He swallowed and continued, “I like having places I can go that he doesn’t know about, people I can talk to that aren’t going to let him know when I get in the slightest bit of trouble - I do my best to keep people I like as separate from all of this as possible, and I know that’s- weird and I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it-”

“It’s fine.” This time, the words were firm. Ranboo stood and brushed himself off, saying, “Don’t mention Eret - so I shouldn’t mention the meal, I’m guessing?”

“Uh- yeah. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Ranboo said with a nod. He faltered a little a moment later, saying, “I don’t- I don’t really get it still, but you’re my friend and you were very considerate when it came to me and my father, so I can do this for you.”

And just like that, the tension vanished completely; he still felt awful, his hands were shaking and he knew he’d probably throw up if he stayed in this house much longer, but he was no longer afraid of what would happen if Ranboo talked to Wil. He dropped his gaze, fighting the urge to start crying for the second time that day.

“That- that really means a lot,” he said. “Thank you.”

Ranboo nodded again, and Fundy could just see his eyes crinkling in a smile. He returned it before opening the door, finding Tubbo waiting just outside. He didn’t seem like he’d been listening in, but you could never tell with Tubbo.

“All good?” Tubbo asked, looking between Fundy and Ranboo. He had a frown on his face, not quite apologetic, but maybe worried?

“All good,” Fundy said.

Tubbo considered him for a moment, eyes narrowing in concentration, before he relaxed, his typical smile returning. “Good!” To Ranboo, he said, “You can head down, then, Phil’s just plating up.”

“Right.” Ranboo slipped past them both, pausing at the top of the stairs to say, “My parents are still going to want a proper meal with your parents one of these days.”

“I’ll figure that out,” Fundy said, waving him off. “See you at work tomorrow.”

Ranboo glanced at the stairs, brow furrowing slightly - maybe wanting to ask why Fundy wasn’t staying for dinner - before he shook himself and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Once he was gone, Tubbo turned to Fundy and said, “You going to thank me?”

“For introducing Ranboo to my fucking dad?” Fundy hissed, conscious to keep his voice quiet.

“For giving you a heads-up and stopping them from talking much before you showed up.” He whacked Fundy’s arm. “Dickhead.”

“You could’ve checked with me first, though. That would’ve avoided this whole fucking mess.”

“You could’ve told your fucking friends that your dad sucks!” He went to whack Fundy again, but this time he moved out of the way. Tubbo settled for glaring at him, adding, “What about you leaving next month? Have you told him about that yet?”

“I-” He sighed and looked away, rubbing his arm. “No, not yet. But just- stop pretending to be more responsible than me, it’s weird!”

Tubbo kept up his glare for a second longer before breaking into a grin. “It’s not that hard to be more responsible than you, Fundip.”

Fundy rolled his eyes and pushed past Tubbo; he wasn’t mad at him, not really, but it was hard to have any degree of patience right then. “I’ll tell him soon, okay?” he said, heading into the bathroom and opening the window. “Him and 5up both. Now, did you have anything important to say, or can I go?”

“You can go,” Tubbo said, waving him off. “Enjoy dinner with your creepy old drunk guy or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later.” He pulled his shoes on and left.

Instantly, he felt better, his breath coming easier once he had nothing between him and the sky. He took his time heading over to Schlatt’s to bask in it, the world opening back up again, bit by bit. He already knew he’d be asking to stay the night - the thought of returning home felt like a death sentence.

Still, he paused to look back, mind weighed down, not by thoughts of the dinner he was missing, but by what Tubbo had said. It had taken him months to tell HBomb or Jack anything about his dad, but he didn’t have months to spare, and even the week he’d taken to be honest with Ranboo had caused problems. He sighed and dug his phone out, first navigating to Tubbo’s contact.

Fundy: thank you
Fundy: and you were right
Fundy: i should’ve told Ranboo
Tubbo: i’m often right
Tubbo: and you’re welcome :)

Then, with a grimace, he switched to 5up.

Fundy: when i said my dad home-schooled me i meant he locked me in my room for basically my entire childhood
Fundy: and i’d probably still be there if i hadn’t kept running away
Fundy: he sucks and home sucks and no one’s ever been able to help they just give me places to run to for a while
Fundy: and my only way properly out is to wait until i’m an adult and have left school and hope he doesn’t get the courts involved to keep him in charge of me because they’d fucking listen to him and not me
Fundy: and that’s the situation and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you

When he finally stopped, 5up’s response was swift.

5up: Thank you for telling me now <3
5up: I still feel like there’s more that could be done to help, but I understand this is a delicate situation
5up: If you want me to drop it, I’ll drop it
5up: I’m always available if you want to talk, tho

He stared at his screen for several seconds, eyes lingering on the heart before instead focusing on the words, dissecting them in search of any caveat to 5up’s concern, any hint of a lack of belief. When he found nothing, he hesitantly typed out another message.

Fundy: thank you <3
5up: Of course!
5up: And on the topic of having places to go, do you maybe want to come over sometime?
5up: I can try and organise a game afternoon or something with a few people
5up: Either this weekend or next, depending on when HBomb’s free
Fundy: yea, that sounds fun
5up: Perfect! I’ll let you know the details :)

He let himself smile as he put his phone away. Somehow, he’d lucked into two amazing friends, who’d barely known him any time at all and still trusted him. He still needed to tell them both about him leaving next month, but that was probably better done in person, and it was now a conversation he was dreading less for its potential consequences and more because it meant two more people he’d hate to leave behind.

But that was a problem for the future. For now, as he turned his back on his house, he let those friendships be a comfort.