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Chapter Text

He woke up to someone shaking his shoulders quite aggressively, and he barely stops himself from socking whoever the fuck was waking him up in who knows what time in the face. Purpled would've pat himself in the back for not punching the persons face when he opened his eyes to see Tubbo hovering above him, who was about to fucking slap him awake.

He immediately sat up and shoved Tubbo's face away from him with his hand, making the brunette stumble back before steadying himself and glaring at Purpled, who tugged down his glove from where it wasn’t covering his wrist.

"What d'you want, Tubbo?" He asked grumpily, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes with his hand but honestly, the yawning didn't help.

"Uh, it's morning, meaning breakfast?" Tubbo looked at him with a brow raised from beneath his long bangs.

"Oh."

Was all Purpled said, before doing his usual routine. Wake up, get out of bed, dress up and then breakfast; an easy and simple routine. If only Purpled actually sticks to it, and he does, sometimes.

In his defense, he doesn't get much sleep so he tends to wake up much later than his roommate, and he swears he's not as lazy, if not, more less than Tubbo. Purpled is honestly starting to question if he should even be in this god forsaken orphanage. If it weren’t for the free food and free bed, he probably would’ve dipped by now.

Going to the cafeteria was a pain in the ass, the whole room was crowded with snot nosed kids and other angsty, depressed teenagers, which admittedly Purpled would fit in with. The mutters and whispers of grouped children were all meshed into loud chatter, and honestly Purpled can't find it in himself to stomp the irritation from all the noise, like seriously it's too early for this much talking.

He shuffles his way in line, grabbing a tray and some breakfast for himself, following Tubbo as he maneuvers through the crowd. Although it took a while, they finally got to their usual table that was practically shoved into the corner of the cafeteria by the trash bins. It smells like shit, but at least they can throw their trash without having to shove themselves back into the crowd just to get to the trash bins.

Tommy and Ranboo seemed to have already gotten their food and were seated at their usual seats. It’s honestly baffling how these two were real early birds, it hurt Purpled to even sit with them. But of course, they were a group, and they did promise to stick together in this shit orphanage. It was them against the world. At least that's what Tommy would always say, which was cringe but okay, it definitely didn't make Purpled feel like he was a part of something and that something was pretty nice and safe and it was probably the best thing he's ever been told in his life in this shit hole.

"Eyyy Purp, Tubso! Good morning!" Tommy greeted as obnoxiously loud as always, and even if it did made him wince he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Good morning Purpled, Tubbo!" Ranboo greets them with a smile.

"Good morning Tommy and Ranboo!" Tubbo smiled at the two, sitting between Ranboo and Tommy. "How're we today, boys?"

Purpled sat next to Tommy, placing his tray of food on the table before speaking, "It's been shit so far." He said dryly.

Ranboo looks over to him, mouth twitching in amusement, "You just woke up though?"

"Exactly." He scoops up a good chunk of the soggy lump that was the mashed potatoes.

"Well, I had a good night's sleep this time," Tommy says in between a mouthful of food, which was disrespectful and quite disgusting. "Since Ranboob didn't sleepwalk into my bed last night."

"First of all, stop talking while eating—it's disgusting," Ranboo starts, ignoring it when Tommy almost choked when he squawked at the taller teen. "Second, it's Ranboo and third, I've never sleepwalked into your bed—you literally crawled up into mine 'cuz you wanted to cuddle."

Tommy looked aghast, face burning red in what Purpled would guess embarrassment for getting called out, and honestly he couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"I—I don't! I do not, you fucking liar!" Tommy practically screeched, reaching across the table to probably claw Ranboo’s eyes out for calling him out. "You're fucking dead when I get my hands on you, you bitch!"

Ranboo snatches his food tray from Tommy's clutches as he leaned back and away from Tommy's flailing arms before looking at Tommy, trying to not laugh as he teases the blonde more. "What, man? I'm just stating the truth."

"You fucking—"

Tommy would've definitely jumped over the table, if it weren't for Tubbo holding him back, who was also trying to not laugh at Tommy being called out.

It was too early for Purpled's liking, but he didn't really mind if he can get a laugh out of these fuckers causing whatever kind of mayhem and chaos in this shit hole, the yelling and banter was like the cherry on top.

Purpled hates to admit it, but you could say that this is what kept him from even leaving this place all together. This ragtag group of fucked up teenagers that think they're bigger than the world, that says fuck the adults 'cuz they've got each other's back and they need no one else. Each other was all they've got, and Purpled can at least admit to that out loud.

After the very awakening breakfast, the four of them went and got their bags of books and notebooks, walking towards the classroom reserved for 'special kids'. Though if it were up to Purpled, he would've just plastered 'Strays' into the door's name plate instead of 'special kids'.

Who the fuck were they fooling? Even a five years old kid would've been able to tell that the special kids that enter this room are ones that had shown an aptitude and had awakened as a Player. It didn't make sense to Purpled why'd they put it in under such a sketchy name either.

The headmaster was adamant in shoving as much needed information as they needed in between the topics of Strays, Players, Admins and what not. If Purpled really had to say something about attending these classes that practically take almost all day, then he'd say that they're at least informative and quite helpful to know, it's always good to have good and credible info that you can use however you can and want to.

He won't lie and say that it was pretty boring—and still is, having to listen to the old man up-front drawl about the same things they've already discussed for like, at least a hundred times.

What did pull his interest was when the old man would drop a couple of names in his discussions, names that had been plastered and printed on the public leaderboards. Names of Players, categorized in ranks, which shows exactly what and how much contribution each Player has made according to a mix of public opinion and from the Admins.

Purpled looked down at the opened notebook on his desk, tapping his metallic purple pen with a little UFO attached to the cap on its wooden surface, his other hand fiddling with the corner piece of a page, the paper looking crumpled and worn. T'was a very old notebook, one he had as a gift from Ranboo on his 12th birthday. Flipping through the pages, there weren't many notes that were taken but for Purpled they were enough for him to understand and get the gist of everything they've been discussing.

Short and simple, precise and straight to the point. Just the way he likes it.

Looking through his notes, it was safe to say that he's got this shit in the bag, he's a fast learner like Ranboo. He rereads his notes from time to time since there's no harm in refreshing his mind with them, especially since all of this information is meant to be drilled into their little brains until they can recite this shit on a textbook level.

So, he starts to read his notes, because listening to the drawl in the old man's voice almost never fails to be quiet enough to lull him to sleep, but extremely grating to his ears with the raspiness in his voice that it jerks Purpled awake.

- Players are people who have awakened their enhancements and/or abilities.

- Hunters are Players specialized to hunt down other Players that deal in illegal business and otherwise. Basically they beat the shit out of criminals.

- Strays are teens and kids ranging from 17 and below that have been tested and revealed to have an aptitude, no matter how small, to be awakened as a Player. Although, a Stray supposedly mostly awakens between the ages of 13 and 16.

- Guardians are Players who take in a Stray as their Ward.

- A Ward is nurtured and cared for by a Guardian, until they reach an agreeable condition and is prepared to be promoted as an Apprentice.

- Apprentices are Players-to-be that will be personally trained and guided by their Guardians in order to prepare them for when they are deemed ready to receive their public license as an official Player by the Admins. Basically it's up to the top dogs to decide whether you're acceptable for society or not.

- Admins are the top dogs, don't fuck with them.

Yeah, that last one had a lengthy discussion that Purpled couldn't be bothered to write it all down, so he summed it up as Admins being the top dogs of this dog eat dog kind of fucked up world and that he shouldn't fuck with their shit in the future.

He flipped a page over and read the next page carefully, if anyone else were to see this page in his notebook, they'd probably think that he's written a hit-list for the big shots. Ones that you wouldn't expect a teenager to go after for, and if he was a mercenary he'd take the bait and say fuck it, because he's just a poor kid who's got no parents and needed money badly enough to do a crime way above his pay grade.

Although, he's pretty sure the others would call bullshit on his excuse of being a poor kid, as if he was pure and innocent and untainted from any crime and sin. Bless the Christians because fuck was he far from clean, if he had to compare, he had more than enough skeletons in his closet that he'd like to have. A massive stain on his ledger that he's not quite sure what to do with.

Purpled read each name, reciting them over and over until each letter burned into his brain, because this wasn't a hit-list. They were names of Players he couldn't afford to run into, and he only needed their names and faces, it doesn't matter if their names are fake, chances are those fake names could be an alias for undercover shit. Purpled didn't want to take those chances, he didn't—won't take any risks.

A lot of people would think he's crazy or he's some kind of criminal on the run, which they're not that far off, but not quite. He simply didn't want to run into these big shots for the sake of reassuring that he gets to keep his current life and his somewhat, maybe illegal but steady income.

If it weren't for these aptitude tests they do every fucking year for every new kid that comes in the orphanage, Purpled would've gone and lived life as a happy normal orphan until he turns 18, and respectfully fucks off this shit shack. Maybe get a job, live in an apartment with a shit landlord that won't let you have pets but Purpled wouldn't give a fuck so he gets one anyways.

He's imagined this kind of scenario multiple times, practically dreaming it every night. Purpled saying 'fuck no' for every adoption that's offered until he turns eighteen because adults are huge pricks, and the day Purpled leaves the orphanage because he's legally an adult, he’ll finally get himself a life, then earn some cash because he loves that shit. Then maybe get a pet dog so he wouldn't be alone, he knows how people go batshit crazy when they live alone for too long, he's seen the articles and documentaries.

But the present Purpled will be stuck on the front row seats of kids up for 'adoption', to be probably taken in by some rich asshole as a charity case and for an upkeep on reputation. The mere thought disgusts him, his deep ire for the rich of the Capital just grew thinking about it.

Then again, it's those with cash and gold that put food on their tables, clothes on their back, roof over their heads and beds to sleep in, so Purpled couldn't exactly complain like a bitch about how shit people are. It's how the world is; it's gilded and covered in gold, with gems and jewels decorating every surface. But if you take a tiny piece off, then comes the rotten insides of crawling bugs, wriggling worms and squirming maggots that bleed a dark ichor that spill and drip down as slow as tar. It is bitter and ugly, that's why it's best to take in the glittering jewels, and close your eyes and away from the ugly insides.

Purpled made sure to remind himself of that everyday, even if it would probably piss the others off, especially with how he can turn a blind eye to crime so easily. Well, it's not exactly easy, but it did become easier with time. If anything, he's got the hots for their money more than anything, and if it meant doing a little crime, he thinks he wouldn't mind.

"Who's your go-to Hunter?" Tubbo asked, taking a bite out of his sandwich that they got from the lunch lady.

They were taking a lunch break from that boring class, which was to prepare them for when they get picked up by a Guardian, at least that's what the old man and the headmaster would say whenever they get asked.

It sure did sound fucking scripted, was what Purpled thought.

"The Blade!" Tommy's answer was immediate, which wasn't much of a surprise.

"You'd honestly do better with The Angel of Death, especially with your windy powers." Tubbo was quick to shut down Tommy, a voice of reason, a bit blunt, but it delivered.

Tommy scowls at Tubbo but he refrains from responding. "Who's your go-to Hunter then?" He asked as he practically inhaled his sandwich.

"Probably the Warden." Tubbo answered easily.

It seemed that Tubbo had deeply thought about that before, maybe far too many times if he could answer that easily. Since unlike Tommy who'd pick the strongest and coolest in a heartbeat, Tubbo would pick his go-to Hunter to be someone he can keep up with and will allow him to, and probably someone who can do mech and tech shit like he does.

"What about you, Boo?" Tubbo turns to Ranboo who was halfway with his sandwich.

The tall teen glances over at them. "Uh...honestly, I don't know who I'd pick as my go-to, so I guess I'm…undecided?" It was phrased as more of a question than a real answer, but it was clear that Ranboo wasn't sure on who'd be his go-to due to certain circumstances.

"Purpled, what about you?" Tubbo now turns to him, and Purpled stares back at the brunette because Tubbo was well aware of where he stands in this kind of thing.

Still, Purpled was asked, so he answered.

"No one really," he shrugged, wiping the bread crumbs off his hands. "But if I really had to give an answer...I'd probably pick The Blade too."

It was true, if he had to pick his go-to Hunter, it'll probably be The Blade, so he can learn how to fight and protect himself, and then he can earn himself some cash without worrying about dying in some ditch.

Tommy sprung to his feet, grinning with teeth as he pointed a finger at Purpled, "I knew you were secretly a fan of The Blade!" Purpled raised an eyebrow, and the mischievous look on Tommy’s face made him anxious, "But there can only be one and that will be me, bitch!"

Without warning, Tommy lunges at Purpled, practically tackling him to the ground. Purpled had to kick him off so he could stand up, but Tommy was a stubborn bitch so he was tackled to the ground again. Tubbo and Ranboo would've only sat on the bench and watched the two wrestle on the ground if Tommy hadn't started cussing out threats to unalive Purpled.

Lunch break ended with Tommy and Purpled on time out and writing a back to back apology letter for property damage, and if Tubbo and Ranboo hadn't stopped the two, they'd probably get sent to juvenile detention for attempted murder.

Chapter Text

Purpled woke up a little early, at least that's what he guessed when he saw Tubbo fastening the buttons on his green shirt, and his shaking hands shook Purpled's idle brain into alert. He shoved the blankets off of him and stood up, following his routine, thinking of how he can ask Tubbo what the fuck was going on that the brunette's hands were shaking that much, and preferably without sounding like Tubbo was pissing him off.

He was trying to work on his tone and wording and shit, like Tommy, so he wouldn't sound like a prick all the time. A force of habit would've been his reason, but it'd probably sound like an excuse to the others and he couldn't be bothered to elaborate on that, so he had to make an effort to at least sound polite.

They left their shared room and headed to the cafeteria, grabbing their food tray and heading to their usual table. Purpled was really starting to definitely get annoyed and not anxious when he sees Tommy hunched over his food like someone will steal it from him and Ranboo nudging his spoon at the mashed potatoes instead of eating it.

When he and Tubbo arrived and sat down, Purpled looked around the cafeteria, taking in the atmosphere and the faces of kids and teens. The usual chatter was more quiet than usual, which was both suspicious and really ominous, and the expressions on everyone's faces didn't help with the annoyance—not anxiousness—that Purpled felt rising.

They all expressed a mix of apprehension and anticipation, which was...odd. Purpled had to be honest and say that he felt a little left out on whatever news they've all heard about for all of them to be looking like that. Whatever it is, he doesn't like it already and he has a feeling that he won't like it even more if he hears what it really is about.

"So..." He starts, and he cringes a little when he sees the same expressions on the others in their table. "Mind telling me what everyone's looking constipated for?"

Ranboo only grimaced, Tommy huffed a short laugh, while Tubbo heaved a deep sigh as he glanced at Purpled. He shrugged and waved his hand around, a gesture for Tubbo to start telling him what the fuck was going on today with everyone.

Tubbo looked like he wanted to sigh again but held back. "They told us that an 'esteemed' Guardian would be visiting this place, then told us that we should be on our 'best behaviors'."

"Oh shit."

When Tubbo stopped talking, all Purpled could say was 'oh shit', because a fucking Guardian was supposedly going to visit. A Guardian that will be taking one look at them, and then possibly take one of them in as their Ward.

Thinking about it, Purpled wouldn't have been bothered that much, because he knew they had slapped 'enhanced strength and speed' on his papers when they couldn't tell what ability he had or if even had one, and that was that. As far as he knows, no Guardian would pick such a normal awakening, let alone a very problematic Stray.

So he wasn't worried about him getting picked, he wasn't bothered at the idea that a Guardian would be walking in to get a look at them all with their information printed on some flimsy paper, he wasn't.

But the idea of whoever walks in that door, and chooses one in his group, makes him think that that's not a reality he wants to happen. Which was weird, because whoever gets picked by a Guardian would be well taken care of and would be under their wing. They'd have the time of their life, living in luxury with all the food and drinks they could ever want, with good clothes and a nice bed.

Purpled would give a thumbs up and say 'good for you' to anyone who gets to have that kind of life, but if Tubbo, Ranboo or Tommy gets picked, Purpled doesn't know how to feel about that.

Sure, he'd congratulate them, tell them to don't forget about him 'cause they owed him by a lot, and that they should spend their Guardian's money as much as they can just for shits and giggles because Purpled wanted to see those rich fucks cry over their wallets. But the more he thinks about it, it sends him right back in front of that closet door full of skeletons, and he wants to turn and walk far far away from it, but he always finds his feet stuck and glued to the ground.

Somewhere, someone was telling him to stay, to don't walk away, and beside him, someone—someone was fucking yelling at him.

"Purpled!" Tommy was all up on his face, and it made him cringe away immediately.

"Get the fuck out of my face, dude." He made sure to show Tommy how he didn't like whatever the blonde was doing, being in his personal space and all. He shoved his trembling hands under the table to save himself from any further attention, barely keeping himself from tugging insistently at his gloves and he kept his eyes from drifting down to them to check if they’re still there.

"Well, sorry, Purpled." Tommy apologized, rolling his eyes as he sat back and away from Purpled's space, and he's pretty sure that Tommy wasn't really sorry. "You were blanking out and shit, looking like you seen a ghost or something."

"You alright, boss man?" Tubbo asked, blue eyes piercing through his bangs.

Purpled almost wanted to not respond, but well, being a little more honest was also something he's working on. "Just got lost in thought, but also thinking about the fact that a Guardian of all things will be stopping by."

Then again. honesty wasn't really his strong suit, and Purpled doesn't like it when things start to get too personal. He doesn't like it when his stupid brain does stupid things, which was how he's got trust issues and some other baggage he'd shoved inside that closed door, never to be seen, opened nor unpacked ever again. He'd prefer to keep that door locked and the key thrown out of sight, staying out of mind.

Although, maybe Purpled should've held back his dislike for the people of the Capital a little, since it was showing from just him mentioning the word Guardian.

Can you really blame him though? Most of the people in the Capital are as rotten as any apple in the slums, and who's to say any of the others that claimed to be clean are just as dirty. Honestly, they should be fucking glad to have all that gold and money, or else they wouldn't be able to get themselves out of prison with how many times they've broken the law just by breathing.

A bit hypocritical for Purpled, but he's got his reasons and he's got a line that he won't ever cross, so at least he still has a bit of moral code in him. Those dirty assholes though? He's not sure if they even deserve to have a second chance, just send them straight to hell when the Hunters get to them. Purpled wouldn't mind helping, for a price.

Tubbo simply nodded at him, since he pretty much knows how much (but not why) Purpled doesn't like the Capital but loves the shit out of their money. Ranboo blinked at him, a little taken aback from the clear dislike he had for Guardians, which was an assumption on his part. Purpled simply hates everyone from the Capital.

Tommy on the other hand, gives him a curious look but he doesn't say anything, he goes back to eating his food instead, probably filing that away in the back of his mind for later. Purpled really hates to admit it, but he and Tommy grew up somewhat the same but came out different, like two sides of the same coin. Purpled liked to think sometimes that maybe that's why the orphanage put them in separate rooms, with different roommates, so they could 'get out of their little shells and open up'. Which, most likely will never happen, in Purpled's opinion.

They continued to eat in silence, and Purpled tried to not think about the Guardian, because today will be the same as any other day. Not to mention, today he's planning to sneak their little group out for some stargazing.

Once they’ve entered the 'special kids' room, and he expects it to be boring, just like yesterday and yesterday's yesterday. You get the picture. What he didn't expect was a man in his thirties to be standing at the front, with the old man that has taught them boring classes since day one of being a Stray.

The newcomer was blonde, but the color was pale and looked fucking bleached rather than natural, but it was long enough to reach his shoulders. The pale blonde man wore an emerald green robe with another black robe with diamond stars that decoratively scattered on its edges from where it sat on his shoulders, lightly held together by a thin gold snake chain. White socks hugged by the straps of his sandals, a green and white striped hat on his pretty little fucking head, and an emerald earring on his right ear.

Purpled was stuck in between running away and just fucking cuss at the man 'till he leaves, or just straight up murder him since the man was seemingly unarmed, but seeing the kids and teens nervously filing inside, he knows that he can't exactly do that. There'd be too many witnesses, and he didn't want to bail himself out of jail with his saved up money if that was even possible, or worse case scenario; owing someone a favor if it really couldn't be helped.

So he sits at his desk, fiddling with the fabric of his gloves between his fingers, and fucking prays the blonde man doesn't look at his direction.

Beside him, he hears Tommy whisper curses to himself, and was clearly panicking while also being a fanboy. Tommy knew who this was, and so did Purpled.

The Angel of Death was not someone anyone can meet, unless you were someone who's got connections, or if you were a criminal who's broken a few laws. This man was a Guardian second, but he was a Hunter first, one that you don't fuck with unless you've truly given up on life, but Purpled was built different and could probably take him on.

Dangerous, is what Purpled would label this man. Old but the bravest, is what Tommy would say. Which was true, the man was fucking old and Purpled was surprised he hadn't retired yet, and it totally wasn't him wishing the man would kick the bucket so he wouldn't be the one sweating buckets right now.

After all, many have witnessed how the Blade practically went off the rails when some idiot thought it was a good idea to get the Angel of Death involved with their grudge against the Blade. It was a fucking blood bath.

Purpled wish he could've seen it, so he could set up a plan on how to counter that if the situation arrives, which will hopefully never ever happen. Dragging the Angel when you're dealing with the Blade was a double edged sword. It could go well for you if you plan it right, but you could say good fucking bye forever if you don't. Those two Hunters clearly look out for each other, and that means that wherever the Blade is, you can be sure that the Angel is not that far and vice-versa.

Purpled tried not to squirm in his seat when the Angel's piercing blue eyes drifted past them, and when he looked back at the blonde man up front, Purpled released the breath he didn't know he was holding when the man wasn’t looking in his direction.

He watches carefully as the Angel bids the old man a brief farewell, before leaving the room all together with unnatural grace, and with barely a sound. Purpled could only think how the man could sneak up on him, how much of a threat he was, and how he could counter that. The Angel was an experienced fighter, Purpled wasn't stupid and he knew that, but Purpled was confident in himself that he can fuck up anyone if he puts his mind into it.

The class starts like nothing happened, as if the Angel came and went like the wind.

It was lunch break, so they went to their spot and sat on the bench. Purpled had to ignore Tommy, who was trying to shove him off the bench saying that he was taking up all the space.

They all knew that wasn't true, since the bench was wide enough for all four of them to sit on, so Purpled ignores him in favor of trying not to think too much at the early visit of the Angel. Thinking too much about it can't be good, and he needs to be calm to have a clear mind.

So, when one of the adults that takes care of them walks up to them, he doesn't think much of it. When she says Tommy's name, telling him that the headmaster needed him, Purpled doesn't think too much about why. Tommy leaves, but not before giving them a panicked look, but he gives them reassurance that it was 'probably nothing'. Purpled took Tommy's word for it and thought nothing of it.

Time passes, and lunch break is over, they head back to the 'special kids' room but Tommy hasn't come back yet. They resume the class, and time passes. Purpled blinks and realizes that the class was over when he was outside the room, time passed by quick, but Tommy hasn't come back yet and he finds Tubbo gripping the strap of his canvas bag, and Ranboo fidgeting with the locket he always wore that his mother left him with when he was barely two.

"Tommy hasn't come back yet." Purpled said aloud, not as a question but simply a statement.

Ranboo's eyes immediately snapped towards him, "You don't think..." He trailed off, something flashed in his eyes but Purpled ignored it.

He looked over at Tubbo, who had remained silent with his head down, trying to not look at anyone at the moment. Purpled sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, and he tries not to think about whatever Tommy was doing right now.

"Let's head back to our rooms." It was all Purpled said, since the two looked like they didn't know what to do with themselves.

The sky was orange by the time Tommy had returned to his shared room with Ranboo, and obviously they had to regroup in Tubbo and Purpled's room. When he laid eyes on Tommy, the first thing he saw was how conflicted he looked about something, and that gave him a pause and a second before he strode up into Tommy's space because he could care less about that right now.

"Tommy." He tried not to speak through gritted teeth, but everyone in the room could hear how strained he sounded.

Tommy's shoulders went up to his ears, curling into himself as he clenched his fists, and he didn't say anything, but the silence was everything Purpled needed. So he backs off, walks to his bed and sits down.

He looked at Tubbo, who was looking at him like he wanted Purpled to explain what that was about, even if the brunette probably already knew what it was but still wanted him to spit it out. Then at Ranboo, who was trying to not look at any of them as he stood and leaned on the wall by the door. Ranboo, who had also brought Tommy in here because the blonde wouldn't fucking talk.

Then he looks at Tommy, who's eyebrows were furrowed, looking like he didn't want to but wanted to cry at the same time, and honestly Purpled would've made fun of him for it if they were in any other situation.

He looks away, and instead sets his eyes out the window, "Care to tell the class what the director called you for?" He asked with a voice as dry as the Sahara desert.

He barely sees Tommy in the reflection on the mirror, but he sees him look up at him with a glare.

"Fuck off, Purpled." He spat out, before pausing and looking down at the floor, he breathed in before letting out.

Tommy sat down beside Tubbo before he opened his mouth and let it all out, "The headmaster called me in 'cause a Guardian wanted to take me in, which turns out that the Guardian was the Angel of Death, which—obviously it was because Philza fucking Minecraft was at the classroom earlier—so I was like 'oh my fucking god, it's Philza fucking Minecraft!', but then it hit me. He wanted me to be his Ward, I mean—he wanted me—which was a great fucking choice because I'm cool and a big man and it's fucking amazing and all, but—" He cuts himself off, eyes still on the ground, and no one speaks, not for a while before Tommy looks at the three of them.

He looks down again, staring at his hands that were clasped together, his elbows resting on his knees as he hunched over, and Purpled suddenly thinks that he has never seen Tommy like this, not since the first day they celebrated Tommy's birthday in this very room. Tommy practically bawled his eyes out that day, he cried and made them all promise to stick together through thick and thin no matter what, all in one breath, and Purpled went along with it.

Only because it was Tommy's birthday, and he didn't want to ruin it by telling him no, so he promised Tommy that he'd watch their backs no matter what, for as long as they're together.

"I didn't want to."

Purpled barely heard it, but he still did, and it surprised him. Tubbo definitely heard it clearly since he sat right next to Tommy, and Ranboo had very good hearing so he heard it even more clearly.

Ranboo looks at Tommy with wide eyes, "You...didn't want to?"

"Well, yeah." Tommy sat up and scoffed, as if it was that obvious, his eyes looking misty. "I told the fucker that I didn't want to because you guys would miss me too much."

Just like that, Purpled wanted to punch Tommy right now, simply because the blonde was so full of himself. Although, even if it was for a moment, Tommy was telling them without actually telling them that he didn't want to leave without them, which was touching if Purpled had to be honest. But the moment Tommy opened his mouth again, he was back to being a huge dick, and honestly Purpled can not deal with that switch up right now, because he's pretty sure he's on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"So, did you actually turn him down or not?" Tubbo asked quietly.

"When you get picked by a Guardian, you don't get a say in it." He muttered and was quick to remind Tubbo that no, Strays don't typically get a say or a choice, because they should be grateful that a Guardian had even taken interest in them.

"He told me that there were a few other Guardians that were planning to visit this orphanage pretty soon, and that he was just the first to." Tommy muttered, clearly ignoring what Purpled just said, and Purpled looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And what? You just took his word for it?" Purpled asked, and he inwardly winced when he sounded like he was calling Tommy an idiot.

Tommy bristled at his words, but he calmed when Purpled apologized and calmly asked the question again. "He's ranked third in the leaderboards, and has no reason to lie, and I thought that maybe I could—you guys would be taken in as well, and then we could fucking—I don't know, trash their place or some shit?"

Tubbo smiled and snorted, Ranboo let himself smile a little as Tommy grinned at them with his proposal that would probably send them back to this orphanage.

Purpled was well aware of how shit the orphanage was, every orphan here is barely being fed and he was almost pretty sure that most of the adults here are embezzling funds, and whether the director takes notice of it, Purpled doubts the man would do anything much about it. So, he can see why Tommy wouldn't want to stay here for the rest of his life until he turns eighteen. Purpled knows that feeling well since he's been patiently waiting for it.

The idea of them trashing some rich fucks place, and making them cry over their empty wallets did sound like heaven on earth and a fucking party at the same time to Purpled, because that meant that he'd be having the time of his life. They'd all be having fun, and they'll be having fun together because they only have each other, because it was them against the fucking world.

It would be the best fucking time of his life, but right now...he could only hear Tommy saying yes to a Guardian and gradually, Purpled feels like he's standing over a gaping hole, balancing in a platform that's barely holding him. He feels his stomach turn, and he sees himself stand in front of that fucking closet door again, but he feels closer to it and he fucking hates his stupid brain because even to this day, it's still fucking with him right now.

Without warning, he jumps to his feet, and yanks the window open, but before he jumps out the window he glances over at Tommy, who had stood up in alarm, from over his shoulder. "Go pack your shit and get the fucking hell out—don't ever come back here while you're at it." He sneered, glaring.

Purpled knew that his words had too much bite and too much hate, and he could see it hit Tommy with the look of hurt and budding anger in his blue eyes. But before he could look at anyone else, he forced himself to turn around and jump off the window. He makes his way where he knows there's a way up the roof, and he sits there, looking up at the blinking stars.

He breathes in the air that was most definitely polluted, but he's thankful that the smoke and clouds weren't as bad as any of the other nights he's had being up on the roof, because the sky was clear and he could see the stars. He sits back and tries to relax both his mind and body, and slowly, he feels himself leave that closet door and he hears no one telling him to stay and open the door.

It was past midnight when he remembers that he had wanted the others to gaze at the stars with him tonight, simply because he wanted to finally share a little about himself to them, because they had been trusting him and he wanted to trust them in return. It was also because it was kind of long overdue, and he had wanted to tell them how hard it was at first, to trust that is.

It was them against the world, after all.

Purpled wanted to laugh, because it turned out to be fucking bullshit.

Chapter Text

Purpled didn't come back pretty much until the next morning, but when he slid in through the window and back inside his shared room with Tubbo, he noticed right away that the brunette wasn't inside. He walked over his cabinet, looking through his clean clothes and debated whether he should get changed or not.

He quickly decided to just not bother changing and get to the cafeteria so he could maybe, probably apologize to the others. He'll probably apologize for being pissy about Tommy leaving and snapping at the blonde, but he won't apologize for being pissed about Tommy taking a Guardian's hand and believing their words, and sure, maybe he was being dramatic or overreacting because as far as everybody knows, a Ward could still talk and see their friends from whatever place they came from before a Guardian took them in.

That doesn't excuse Tommy for accepting to be a Ward of a Guardian without consulting any of them, and yeah maybe Tommy just had to decide then and there because they wouldn't let him leave without giving an answer, or maybe they couldn't take no for an answer and Tommy didn't have a choice, or—or maybe Tommy just wanted to be out of this fucking place and he accepted it the moment it was offered without—without thinking of them.

It hurts to think when stupid emotions get involved, so Purpled tries to cut himself off from the situation entirely and focus everything on his current objective, but right now? Purpled didn't have an objective, and he was stupid for thinking nothing of it the moment he saw the Angel, because maybe he could've convinced the others to ditch the class and sneak out, consequences be damned.

He breathes out heavily, in an attempt to soothe his incoming headache and pushing down his agitated emotions away as he enters the cafeteria. He's mindlessly grabbing a food tray and getting in line as he looks around, and almost everything and everyone seemed to be back to normal, but Purpled could care less because he's already making his way to their table after getting food, and he tries not to react when he sees that Tommy wasn't sitting where the loud and rowdy blonde usually sat.

He sits at his chair and numbly eats his food, he ignores Ranboo glancing at him from the corner of his eye, and he's glad that Tubbo didn't even look in his direction, because he's trying very hard not to look to his right and see an empty chair. Purpled, for all the patience and experience, was struggling to keep a straight face because he has never anticipated sitting next to an empty chair that he's become more aware of than any moving, breathing being in this god damn fucking room.

A fucking reminder of why he should just leave, and that he didn't belong here because he was more than capable enough on his own, because he didn't need a Guardian to 'guide' and 'care' for him. But it also reminded him that he's starting to lose everything again because of a fucking Guardian, and Purpled was already getting sick of it.

He shuts his eyes closed, reeling in unwanted memories, "When did he leave?" He asked without opening his eyes, barely a whisper, but Ranboo was able to hear him.

"He left earlier this morning, told us not to miss him too much." Ranboo's lips quirked up into a small smile, Purpled could practically hear it through his words.

"Leave it to Tommy to say he'll miss us without saying it." Purpled opened his eyes and stared at his tray, he let himself smile a little but he was quick to wipe it off his face when he remembered that he had wanted to talk to them.

He looks up, glancing at Ranboo and Tubbo silently before clearing his throat, catching both of their attention. He looks back down at his tray, his hand fiddling with his spoon as he tries to look for the right words.

"...What is it, Purpled?" Ranboo asked, fidgeting with his own utensils as he looked over at Purpled.

"Look, I..." His voice died in his throat as he shut his mouth close, huffing in frustration, he decided to just fuck it and apologize. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to be all snappy at you guys or at Tommy, but I'm not gonna apologize for being mad at him because he should've at least told us first before he accepted being that old man's Ward."

He doesn't look at Ranboo and Tubbo in the eyes as he speaks, not because he was afraid that they wouldn't forgive him, in fact he expects them to take his half-assed apology with a grain of salt and just let bygones be bygones. If anything, he's more embarrassed that he had to apologize for snapping at them, because Purpled didn't just snap at people just because he was mad.

Purpled was calm, cool and collected, and the others had always assumed and joked about how he was the oldest because of it and because of how 'mature' he was compared to the others, according to Ranboo.

Tubbo looked at him, briefly sharing a look with Ranboo before turning back to him, "I know, Purpled. We know." He said, looking straight at him.

"It's understandable where you're coming from, it's just—maybe you should apologize to Tommy instead of us. He was the one you kinda snapped at." Ranboo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, but he quickly put up his hands, frantically waving it as he looked at Purpled with wide eyes, "But it's not like we don't accept your apology! It's just that, maybe don't just jump out of the window next time."

"So...you're forgiving me?" Purpled raised an eyebrow at both of them.

"Nope, not until you apologize to Tommy yourself first." Tubbo piped up, popping a spoonful of potatoes in his mouth.

Purpled winced, because that will surely go well, and not to mention he hasn't seen Tommy since he left that night. He sighed, looking down at his food and resumed eating. Apologizing to Tommy, who's probably mad at him, will be something he's gonna be looking forward to.

After they finished eating, they all went about the day normally, or as normal as it can get without the usually loud blonde in their group, and Purpled hates how quiet it's gotten. The silence was grating on his nerves for some reason, and it had barely been a day after Tommy had left for his new life as a Guardian's Ward.

It's tolerable, but Purpled isn't sure just how long he's gonna have to hold back at snapping at anyone that tries to talk to him, and he can tell that Ranboo and Tubbo were feeling just as antsy as he did.

The sun was setting when they all decided to huddle up in Tubbo and Purpled's shared room, Ranboo was mindlessly fidgeting and tugging at his locket, staring at nothing. Tubbo was glancing at the phone he's somehow kept and squeezed past from any adults, whilst talking about literally anything but the very obvious missing member of their group. Purpled on the other hand, was laying on his bed and staring up at the glow in the dark stars that he stuck on the ceiling.

A hanging decor of stars and planets with a UFO as a centerpiece was hanging from the ceiling, something he made by hand, and something he was currently playing with, his hand barely touching the hanging pieces. He knows that the adults let him keep it since it 'improved' his 'bad behavior', and they threatened to remove it in front of him if he ever misbehaves or steps out of line.

(The threat did work, much to Purpled's chagrin, it kept him in line because he didn't want the one remaining thing that made him genuinely happy to be taken away from him if he ever 'misbehaves'. Times like those don't tend to end well for him.)

He huffs at a quiet laugh before zoning into Tubbo's chatter, "...You think Tommy will call us?"

He averts his eyes from the ceiling to look over at Tubbo, who's staring at the phone that he's now clutching in his hands, and Purpled can't help but ask the same. As much of a fucking joke it was for just them to be against the world (it was bold of him to assume it to be like that anyways) they were pretty much all he's ever known to be...well, reliable at best.

They were a team who depended on each other, whether it's for what skill set they specialize in, or just someone to understand and sympathize in a way only people who had been through the same shit can. That's how it was and has always been for Purpled, and for how long he's been with the others, he's pretty sure they'd say the same.

Before Purpled could give a response, Ranboo spoke up for the first time since coming into their shared room, "He better," he scoffed to himself, before looking over at Tubbo, "He will."

Purpled can at least applaud Ranboo for trying to look reassuring, but he can tell just as much as Tubbo that Ranboo was having a few doubts. I mean, if you were taken into a far better life than here, then you'd do everything to enjoy and keep it. Tommy gets to enjoy his new life, and they get to keep tabs with him.

Something about that certainly did sour Purpled's mood a lot more.

"Look," he sighed heavily as he sat up from his bed, "Tommy is probably trying to settle down with his new life, give him time and he'll call us when he can." If he even wants to, he doesn't say.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tubbo perked up and Ranboo blinked between them, "Would they even let Tommy call us?" He asked, more to himself than to either Ranboo or Purpled.

Ranboo's eyes widened, his brows furrowed with worry, "You think they won't let us keep in touch?" He asked Tubbo, a frantic look in his mismatched eyes as he looked down at Tubbo's phone.

Purpled frowned, looking exasperated at the two, and although Purpled knew that a Guardian can easily cut off their Wards from past relations, he also knows that the Angel, as cold-blooded as he was, had a bleeding heart that takes convenient pity for children who had lived a tough life in such a young age. Exhibit A was the Blade and exhibit B was the fourth ranked Player, known as Syren.

Purpled was more than certain that the Angel had taken one look at Tommy, who was all but skin and bones because the food goes out quickly due to the blonde's fast metabolism, and took pity on him. As much as Tommy would hate pity coming from anyone, it's a necessary asset if you want to get what you want from a gullible adult who's got far too much money under his name.

"That old man won't do that Tommy, got too much pity for him and in extension—us. He won't try to take us away from him, thinking it'd be good for him and shit." Purpled muttered loud enough for both of them to hear, and maybe he could tone it down from over analyzing everything but he can't help it.

Tubbo frowned in thought, Ranboo considered it, and he couldn't be bothered with worrying about it any further because it's only making his mood worse than it already is.

He's at least glad that they'd shut up a bit, if only for a moment before he's sure they'll start up again, and sure, he still did have to apologize to Tommy but honestly, that's for when they get to talk to Tommy, so that's for future Purpled to deal with. For now, he doesn't want to think about any of that, just sit back and lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling 'till he falls asleep.

Ranboo had stayed and slept with them that night, and Purpled did fall asleep staring at the ceiling just as soon as Tubbo and Ranboo fell asleep. It took them a while to sleep due to constantly worrying and checking the phone, Purpled had to keep telling them to give Tommy time to adjust to his new life and just wait for him to call them, it ended with them reluctantly handing the phone to Purpled just so they wouldn't break the damn thing with how Tubbo was clutching it.

Two more days passed and Tommy never called once during those days, which was fine, he could take as much time as he needed to settle down. Although, a deep part in Purpled wonders just how long exactly will it take for Tommy to settle down and adjust enough to call them, or maybe Tommy won't even call them, or worse—he's not being allowed to.

Purpled buried that last thought away immediately, because he's read a lot about the Angel—he's also been told of how much of a sentimental old man he was as a Guardian, so he knows that he wasn't that kind of person. But that traitorous part of him just couldn't keep shit to itself, so now he's sat there trying to not think of anything, mindlessly eating his food.

Everything in the cafeteria was all back to normal almost immediately, everyone was chattering like Tommy wasn't just—gone. Just as soon that thought crossed his mind, the food in his mouth couldn't taste any disgustingly bland. It was like sandpaper and garbage in his mouth, and he debates whether he should give it to Ranboo or Tubbo.

The cafeteria was absolutely bustling and loud, and it just felt wrong to Purpled, but it's not what gave him goosebumps or made his hair stand on end, it was the feeling of someone looking at him or at least in his direction. He doesn't want to turn around to look back at whoever was staring at their direction, but he does anyways because he wants to know what fucker was staring at them.

When he turns his head as naturally as possible, he soon finds himself staring back at red eyes hidden behind a skull mask, and he freezes right on the spot. Before he could stare any longer, he turned his head away and looked at Tubbo and Ranboo, who hadn't noticed the gaze being sent their way, and he doesn't know if he should be glad or not. There was no way the Blade had been looking at them, there was just no way.

The Blade was a Hunter, what else could he be here for? No Hunter visits orphanages, unless they were under an investigation or—or an inspection. Purpled can't help but think of the many possibilities and reasons that a Hunter would be visiting, and let's just say that all of them don't sound all that good.

He wants to leave the cafeteria, take Ranboo and Tubbo and drag them out of here right now, but the fucker was standing by the exit so he can't really do that without looking suspicious, and that's the last thing he'd want to be. If the Blade was here for an investigation or an inspection, it's best to keep low and not draw attention to himself or the others.

If things go well, they'll have fewer adults to watch out for due to the embezzling, and another day of waiting for Tommy to call them.

Purpled stares at Ranboo, and his mind just...blanks out. It's barely been a week and already someone had come to take from him again, not like Ranboo was someone to him other than a genuinely good person.

Turns out things didn't go as well as he'd thought, because apparently the Blade came in today—not as a Hunter, but as a Guardian. Purpled clenched his fists and pressed his lips in a tight line, thinking when the hell did the Blade—the Blood God as they used to call him—decided to sign up as a Guardian.

He didn't hear news about that 'till now, and he's eating at his own shoe for losing touch on constantly keeping tabs on any new information about these Hunters because he's going to lose everything again, all because he's been too complacent.

("You've grown fat and complacent, you can't even see what's been going on around you, and you're losing everything because of it. What will you do now, boy?")

He shakes the unpleasant feeling off, blinking back to Ranboo, who was hugging himself while looking down at the ground.

"Should I go?" He asks them, hugging himself just a little tighter.

Tubbo opened his mouth, before closing it again, this happened a few times before he sighed. "You can if you want, maybe you can even see Tommy there."

"Yeah, and maybe you can tell him to call us already. You'd think someone as clingy as Tommy would've called us since day one, but then again, it's your choice." Purpled shrugged, walking over to lay on his bed.

Ranboo glanced between him and Tubbo. "He did mention Tommy, said that he wouldn't shut up about us missing him." His lips quirked up into a small smile as he spoke.

Tubbo snickered, "Sounds like Tommy, but he's not wrong. I miss Tommy..." He said the last part quietly, and Purpled quietly agreed.

Ranboo bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say something else but he deliberately held back, Purpled narrowed his eyes at that. It seemed that something else was talked about between Ranboo and the Blade, but whatever it was, was clearly none of his business.

If Ranboo wanted to keep it to himself, he can, and maybe Purpled can pry it out of him someday, but clearly Ranboo was already having a hard time thinking about it.

Purpled stares up at the ceiling, counting the stars he stuck up on it, before deciding he should sleep early. He turned over and faced the wall, tucking himself half way with a blanket and closing his eyes.

"Do whatever you want, I'm going to sleep." He flippantly said over his shoulder, not wanting to look at either Tubbo and Ranboo.

Ranboo could do whatever the hell he wanted, because neither Tubbo or Purpled can exactly tell Ranboo what to do and what to decide, and maybe Purpled wasn't being all snappy at him because he at least told them first before deciding. Well, Purpled was trying to not snap at him, or just straight up tell him 'no, don't go, because it ain't worth it'.

It took a while before he eventually fell asleep, and he ignores the bitter, hateful feeling of Ranboo leaving, because he's already said that he can do what he wants. He's thought a lot about it after Tommy left, and he's resigned because maybe it's a chance for the others to live a better life. It doesn't make him feel any better though.

Chapter Text

When Purpled first came to the orphanage, he was nearly eleven years old, and that day made him question why he even bothered to come when he didn't need to. He could take care of himself just fine; he could earn money, feed and bathe himself, secure clothes, a bed and a roof over his head. He can do all the work that an adult can do—even the dirty work, because he's never been clean and he never once thought he'd ever be clean.

Life was harsh and unforgiving down in the alleys and slums, and Purpled would never want to go back to that place, not unless he had no choice. He still remembers the sewer rats skittering around the dark corners, undefinable and questionable substances staining every surface, the smog in the air so suffocating that it might as well be like breathing in toxic air.

He remembered the dirtiest parts of it, where you can smell the sweat, blood and tears of every victim in the shadows of the steep and narrow alleys. He remembers hearing the cries of a girl who's fate he never wanted to think about, but he remembers it like every bad thing that festered in those alleys.

Purpled doesn't often think about the days he used to walk down those alleys, doing odd jobs and dirty work, and no matter how brief he was in the business, it still haunts him when his thoughts stray and fall back to it. He had always turned his back and closed his eyes from the crimes done down in those places, because money called for him and there's always plenty of work to do.

He knew when he met Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo, that if they knew what he'd done, and what he didn't do, they would've hated him more than they would've hated the people up in the Capital. Just the thought alone made him feel ashamed, but whether or not it did, didn't matter in the face of a promised hefty income that can cover him and his life for the coming years ahead of him.

Back then, he'd accept dirty money out of desperation, but now he's smarter and more careful and a couple of bucks richer. He's got more than enough experience to go around and not get himself stabbed in the back, and he's proud of how far he's gotten on his own, and it's proof that he didn't need anyone on his ass to take care of him.

If it was up to him, he wouldn't have cared what they'd think of him when they learn what he's done just to be here, to know what exactly he's done in his sad, pathetically miserable life but—

Things in his life never went the way he wanted them to, and he knows now that no matter what he tells himself, he would care. He would care about what they'll think and what they'd say to him, and they would strangle him at best and murder him at worst, and he knows that's exactly what they'll do to him because it's what he'd do to any scum he sets his eyes on.

He doesn't let himself wonder about it more than he already had, blinking away the bright light as he sits up on his bed. He glares at the curtainless window before looking down at the still body underneath a blanket on the other side of the room, and he stays there and doesn't speak for a while.

"What time is it?" He decides to ask, looking at the brown curls poking through the edges of the blanket.

Tubbo doesn't respond, and for a moment, Purpled thinks that he's still asleep or was ignoring him, but he dismisses the thought when the blanket shifts and a hand pulls it down from over Tubbo's head.

Blue eyes stared back at him and he carefully didn't say anything to the tear tracks staining the others cheeks, "It's eight in the morning." Tubbo says, voice dry and sounding very tired.

Purpled looks away, his nose wrinkling at the time, "We've missed breakfast." He says dryly.

Tubbo huffs, closing his eyes as he pressed his head further against his pillow, pulling the blanket up to his chin as he breathed. Purpled watches him for a moment before standing up and reluctantly doing his usual routine of getting washed and dressed up for the day, even if he wants to lay back down into his bed and sleep the whole day off, but he knows that he won't be able to sleep.

Not when Ranboo hasn't called yet, when he should've already, because it's been a full day since he left and he promised. He told them he'd call the moment he got there, to one of the places where all Guardians and Wards stay when they prepare for Apprenticeship, and Purpled knows that it's not that far from here—it's barely a day's worth of travel by car from here to there.

He knows that, and Purpled doesn't like any of this more than he ever did with Tommy, and maybe because it's the paranoia or the skepticism—or the intrusive thoughts from unpleasant parts in his life, but he can't help but feel the familiar feeling of panic and dread.

He feels it all like a tide, and he's being drowned in it and he feels the fear and the helplessness that he never thought he would ever feel again, but just as fast as it came, he shuts it all down. He shoves it down hard, and throws it somewhere with a lock and throws its key away.

He was past that now, because Tommy and Ranboo weren't helpless and if they were reliable to him, then they were more than capable to help themselves and fight their way out if they have to. It was also their choice to hold hands with Guardians, so they weren't Purpled's responsibility to dig out when they've dug themselves a deep hole they can't climb out of.

They weren't friends, and they certainly couldn't have each other's back when they're separated like this, but Purpled is not willing to risk everything he has to fight those cursed Guardians, not again.

He breathes through the ache he feels at his train of thought, shrugging it off as he rolls his shoulders, staring at his reflection in the mirror. A pale face littered with faded scars and purple eyes looked back at him, he grimaced faintly at the haggard look his almost ash blonde hair was giving him.

He leans over the sink, tilting his head down as he closes his eyes. Purpled won't be able to bring himself to help them even if he wants to, he thinks, not when it's against a Guardian.

He remembers the first group of friends he had, and he remembers it like a very bad dream—a nightmare in its own right. Each one of them shielded him and kept anyone from prodding him with piercing eyes, and he knew why they kept Players away from him, especially when he had been the youngest in their group. He had always known the reason, but he never really understood it, no matter how many times they told him, he never understood the meaning behind their worry.

"You're different from us, Purpled,” Sammy said, his head leaning down until their foreheads touched. "You've got something no else has.”

The body behind him shifted, fingers deftly touched blonde curls, and when Purpled looked up, he's met with gentle brown eyes.

"They won't take you away,” Astelic said so quietly, he barely heard it, and her eyes burned with defiance as she curled into herself. She thumped her forehead against his when Sammy lifted his head, brown hair falling and hiding them away from the rest of the world, and with a shaky breath and closed eyes she whispered to him, "We won't let them take you."

Purpled didn't say anything—couldn't say anything as he closed his eyes, and curled into the warmth of her body. Sammy had scooted closer, looping his arms around them as he pressed his temple against the crown of Astelic's head, and Purpled had slept peacefully that night.

Astelic shielded him from all the hateful things, and Sammy had protected them from all the terrible monsters, and Purpled never felt safer than he had with them and—

They were gone, and Purpled has never needed to be shielded from the hateful things anymore, because he wields it like a weapon. He had never needed to be protected from the terrible monsters that would not hesitate to tear him to pieces, because he'd kill them first before they could hurt him. Purpled has never needed anyone, he tells himself, not anymore.

Sammy and Astelic were people that were a part of a life he once had, and he's past that part of his life and moved on to a new one with a fresh start.

So he will continue to cling to this life he has, and he refuses to let go, not when he still has someone to cling to—the only reason he's staying and not drifting from place to place like he once did. Purpled refused to lose what he built for himself here, to the point that he's willing to hang for dear life at that threaded rope, to bite hard on the bone he worked hard for and never let go.

He opens his eyes to blinking lights as he breathes in, cold air biting into him as it curls in his lungs, he breathes out.

Stars peeked through thick clouds, shining bright against the night sky, and Purpled tracks the moon as it ascends inch by inch. It's so slow that it doesn't seem like it's moving at all, but he's watched the moon many times over the years, when he could. Looking at the sky, he thinks of planets and galaxies, of meteors and shooting stars, of a world beyond his reach and breathes.

The roof tiles beneath him were cold and uncomfortable, but it was familiar, and familiarity brings him more comfort than watching Tubbo stay up all night looking at his phone until he falls asleep. Purpled watches the stars, tracing lines of the constellations that he could still remember, muttering their names under his breath.

He gazes at the stars until his eyes drift close, and he dreams of nothing but shooting stars and supernovas, he dreams of warm hands and gentle brown eyes.

Before they landed in the orphanage, Tubbo remembered someone from the foggiest and earliest parts of his memories, he remembers a tall man talking to him, telling him something. He didn’t know what the man was saying, neither did he remember what the man had looked like, all he knew was that this man had been his father at some point.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after, not that it mattered much to him when it had been made clear he was abandoned in the slums, taking shelter in a box with a thick enough blanket to ward off the cold and his prized bee plush that clearly needed to be washed and mended.

Tubbo never really bothered to know who his father was, he never really tried to remember who the man was and what he looked like either. All that he needed to know that was important was that, if he hadn’t been where he had been in that box, he wouldn’t have met Tommy.

He remembered it much more clearly than probably his first memory, of how Tommy dragged him out of the box and tried stealing the blanket he had, they fought over it for so long that it almost tore in half when they started tugging at it like they were playing a tug of war. They ended up sharing the blanket together, huddled beside the box that was far too small to fit both of them.

He doesn’t know how it happened, it just did, but after that they became inseparable. Tommy almost always told him that he wouldn’t survive without him, and Tubbo didn’t want to mention how many times they’ve almost gotten themselves beaten up, all because Tommy kept picking fights with the other people in the slums.

But as much as Tommy had his back, Tommy had his. Regardless of whatever trouble Tommy gets himself into, Tubbo will always help him figure out how to unstuck himself from whatever current mess he’s made. It’s not like Tubbo’s completely innocent either, so really, they had to watch each other’s back.

Besides, no matter how many times Tommy will say that Tubbo was the clingy one, it’s known that Tommy can be just as clingy. So, color him surprise when he’s yet to receive a spam of colorful language, and an obnoxiously vibrating phone.

Tubbo wakes up and doesn't move for a while, he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. The shadows were still rather dark, and when he turned his head he realized it was still night time. He lays on his side, fumbling for his phone that he hid underneath his pillow, and he feels disappointed when he sees no missed calls or unread messages.

He stares at the lit screen until it fades out, he slumps down with a grunt, shoving his face into his pillow. He stays like that for a moment before shifting to peek an eye out towards the other bed, only to find it empty, and he frowns.

"Purpled?" He calls out, pushing himself up as he looks around the room.

He tries not to shiver when his feet touch the cold floor, when he stands up he walks towards Purpled's bed, and he eyes the way the blanket was shoved out of the way. His gaze trailed past the bed and towards the open window, cold air seeping through and Tubbo felt the way it nipped at his skin. He grimaced, drifting towards the window to close it, and he heaved a heavy sigh when the cold stayed, futilely wishing for a brief moment for the biting cold to go away.

He steps away from the window, leaving it closed but not locked in case Purpled ever comes back later or in the morning, it was something Tubbo had come to get used to, even if he and Purpled never really addressed it.

When he sat back down on his bed, with his knees up to his chest and his back against the wall, he decided to wait for Purpled to come back instead of falling back to sleep. He breathes, tucking his chin into the nook of his arm, his eyes falling in sight of the phone.

He could contact them first by hijacking the headmaster’s computer, and getting his hands on the contact numbers of the Guardians that took Tommy and Ranboo, he could call them and talk to them now instead of waiting for them to do it, he thinks. But that required not being caught by the staff and the adults, and he's not as confident as Purpled to try it out, not when it risks the phone Tubbo tried very hard to hide from any grabbing hands.

He remembers the day before Tommy left, and how he deliberately didn't say goodbye, knowing that they'll still see each other. Tubbo held himself back, the tears and the words waiting to spill, knowing full well how hard it was for Tommy to leave them, to leave without him.

If Tubbo didn't restrain himself, he probably would've stormed out or jumped off the window like Purpled, either that or he would've clung to Tommy with desperation, because Tommy was leaving without him.

There wasn't a time where he and Tommy were apart, and he had promised himself that there wouldn't be a moment in his life where they'll be separated. They were a pair forged by everything that was thrown their way, and together they were best friends and brothers in anything but blood, and Tubbo's not willing to let go of him, just as much as how Tommy will never leave him even if someone tries to pry them apart.

Even if Tommy wasn't here now, he knows that they'll see each other again, it's only a matter of time before Tommy finds a way to contact them or find his way back to them. Tubbo will wait, because if in the off chance Tommy can't find his way back, Tubbo will, and he will carve a path to drag Tommy back, no matter what those Guardians say.

He's seen how Purpled reacts to them, in every moment they're mentioned, and they don't talk about it, and they’ll probably never will. But he sees and knows that not all of them are as good as people make you believe them to be.

His enhancements were useless when he doesn't have a single tech in hand, and the only access he has is through this outdated phone he managed to keep, but it's not enough.

The window sliding open catches his attention, glancing up at Purpled, who's dropping in with silent feet, deft hands closing the window and locking it shut. Tubbo takes notice of his loose posture, and he knows Purpled is at ease when purple eyes glanced at him briefly before turning away. He watches Purpled settle down for the night, and he stays there with blue eyes practically boring a hole through Purpled's back until Purpled falls asleep.

Looking down at the phone again, he sighs, grabbing it and hiding it away beneath his pillow for easier access. He'll hide it away properly later in the morning when they leave for breakfast, but it's only him that's awake now, so he gazes at the hanging decor of stars.

It only took a few minutes, and his ears picked up the barest of whispers and mutters coming from the other side. He watches as Purpled twitches in his sleep. Breathing unevenly like he was running out of air, or maybe he was crying, Tubbo doesn't really know. But he knows this happens almost every night whenever he decides to stay up, he knows what he sees is a well-guarded secret.

I'm sorry, Purpled would whisper.

Followed by names Tubbo doesn't recognise, names that were quietly muttered under his breath. Then again, he doesn't know Purpled as much as the next guy but Tubbo can't say anything about that when both him and Tommy don't talk about themselves before the orphanage either. Ranboo seemed to be the only one who's willing to share parts of his life, but—this orphanage had been all Ranboo had ever known.

Tubbo briefly wonders how Tommy and Ranboo were doing, but he pushes it away for later, and focuses back on Purpled for a moment before averting his gaze and opting to watch the hanging stars and the UFO, idly spinning.

If he doesn't receive any calls or messages by the day after tomorrow, he'll really hijack the headmaster's computer system, he thinks, and this time, he means it.

Chapter Text

Purpled pretends to sleep like the sound of shuffling and soft footsteps didn't wake him up, he was a light sleeper, sue him. But he can't help but give Tubbo pity points for at least trying to make it sound like he was trying to be quiet, though perhaps he should lower his standards on that, considering Tubbo doesn't walk on the same level of stealth as him despite it being a much needed skill in the alleys.

Though admittedly, he was much better at it than Tommy, Purpled at least will be honest in saying that. It doesn't stop him from getting off his bed a few long minutes after the door closes behind Tubbo, each step muffled by the socks on his feet. If Tommy had slept in their shared room, Purpled most likely wouldn't have heard Tubbo at all, if only for the fact that the blonde could snore as loud as a motor engine.

A less than pleasant experience for Ranboo more than anything, with his enhanced hearing and what-not. It didn't affect Purpled, other than a few sleepless nights of trying to get used to the very loud company, and the disquieting dreams and snippets of memories of a life he left behind years ago.

It doesn't take him long to catch up to Tubbo, leaving their room without so much as a sound, and he makes sure to keep his breaths even and more subdued to keep absolute silence. Not once does he take his eyes off the head of brown, watching as Tubbo not-so suspiciously looks around before quietly bounding over a familiar hall. The headmasters office was just at the end of it, and almost everyone has at least visited it in their time here, and the fact that Tubbo heads straight for it is more than a little interesting, if not a tad concerning.

At least one or two of the adults have to be awake, for reasons that Purpled and a few others in the same age as him know with a discomforting familiarity. A few have given up the chance of a life in the orphanage, leaving and running away into the streets, and not once have those that were successful have ever turned back. No one knows what happened to them, if they are living a better life out there than here, or they've simply died the moment they sought out to gamble with a possible chance at life better than the orphanage can offer.

Certain cases of dead children and young teens losing that gamble have reached Purpled far too many times, and with far too many details. It came with the odd jobs and his shitty lifestyle, but even then, it never failed to make him feel sick at the thought that that would've been him—could've been him. But he's been alive for this long, surviving, and he knows better than to trust anything and anyone outside of himself.

Tubbo leaves the door slightly ajar when he enters the office, the shadows casted by the low lighting of the moon was enough to give the illusion that it wasn't open. Purpled took that as a chance to slip in unnoticed, he gives thanks to no one with wry humor when the door doesn't even make a sound when he pushes it enough to let him through. The headmaster sure did well to keep his door well oiled, but never enough to keep this bum of a place running, it's practically barely standing. He wonders when the whole building will collapse on itself, leaving the orphans it's meant to house completely homeless.

It's more or less the only thing separating them from the ones that have been living in the slums for far longer, and Purpled would almost feel bad if he already hadn't had problems of his own. The moment you hit the streets you're on your own, with no one to help you but yourself.

He pulls himself away from his train of thought, keeping himself out of sight as much as possible when Tubbo starts looking around, with purpose he notes. It certainly confirms his suspicion when he stops and stares before bee-lining towards the PC by the desk, and before Tubbo could reach for it, fully aware of what he was capable of, Purpled cleared his throat so loud and obvious that it badly startled Tubbo.

"You weren't just going to start hijacking that computer, were you?" He asks, blinking back at Tubbo, bug eyed and pale. Purpled holds off a laugh before it could leave him, his face giving away absolutely nothing even as he internally cackles at the sight of Tubbo nearly tripping on his feet and almost sending his entire body to hug the ceiling.

Tubbo doesn't answer for what felt like a long time, and despite Purpled blinking almost lazily at him, his own baby blue doesn't even seem to blink as he stares at him. He would've felt bad if he didn't already had had his assumptions proven true, with Tubbo being here as proof, inside the headmasters office with the most access to plenty of things regarding updates to a certain pair of Strays turned Wards.

"What the fuck." Tubbo frowns, furrowing his brows, staring at him still with wide eyes. He doesn't deign to give him a response, only raising his brow, giving him an unimpressed look. "What the fuck, Purpled." He repeats, looking stunned and a little nervous.

It sure did suck when you get caught like this, except it's probably a lot more embarrassing than nerve-wracking when you got caught red handed but your hands hadn't gotten to the cookie jar yet.

"Yeah, what the fuck, Tubbo." He says, almost sarcastically, but he holds off on that too.

He keeps most, if not all of whatever snarky comments he planned to say to Tubbo, if only for the fact that the brunette looked like he was relieved at the same as being close to a panic attack. Which admittedly, isn't really much of a good look, considering how he got paler than he already was. Purpled is starting to think that perhaps he should've stopped Tubbo before he left their room, and no matter how curious he was, whatever Tubbo planned to do is inadvisable at the moment. Considering that Tubbo could have a high chance of getting caught, and that despite his enhancements, it's one of those that you have to cultivate with experience; which Tubbo doesn't have.

Every action and decision made must be with reason and logical thinking, which Purpled has been failing to do in the past few days after Tommy left, but he wants to make sure that Tubbo knows that what he's doing is stupid. Even if he successfully takes over the headmaster's computer, there's the problem with getting a hold of the systems in the facilities of where the Wards stay in with their Guardians. Which is more than a little difficult and fully guarded with a highly advanced security, for safety purposes, and wholly out of Tubbo's current skill level.

Purpled doesn't know why Tommy and Ranboo haven't contacted them when they know how to, when they said they would, and he understands the desperate need to know why, but—

"Whatever you were planning to do, drop it," he sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to appear casual, like he couldn't see the burning ice in Tubbo's gaze the moment he spoke. "With how you currently are, you won't even make it through the first wall before you get caught, so just—don't."

Despite the low lighting, he can see scowl on his face, brown bangs covering whatever look he has on his eyes when he lowers his head. He glances at the way Tubbo clenches his hands into fists, his shoulders being held squarely tense, like he was holding himself back from lashing out at Purpled. He wouldn't blame him if he did, Purpled knew he was an asshole, practically lived like a self-centered jerk all year 'round with nothing better to do.

Tubbo lets out a shaky breath, quiet but heavy in all the ways that Purpled could at least sympathize with; deeply buried rage and what-not. "I should at least try, I mean—" he stops short, swallowing hard, and Purpled doesn’t acknowledge the way his hands tremble by his sides. "Something could've happened to them, maybe that's why they haven't contacted us." He says, almost quietly, like the barest of a whisper, a hush. But Purpled heard him loud and clear in the heavy silence of the night.

Having to hear his own thoughts and concerns, or at least a part of it, be whispered to him by the last person he'd give a damn in this place sends a bigger impact of something unpleasant. It washes over him like a tidal wave about to drown him, nearly knocking him off his feet, shaking him at his core and rattling his brain inside his skull like a toddlers toy. The uncertainty and the twisted sense of hope that he could almost hear in Tubbo's words were almost identical to himself, if he were to take a step ten whole years backwards, shrinking into himself like a wet crumpled paper with nothing but hell and a trash can waiting for him.

With that being said, Purpled felt like shit, the way his heart skipped a beat and his stomach churned was more than enough to upset him. It's disturbing to have to hear something so similar to before...before, that the thought alone was—

Looking at Tubbo, Purpled felt sick, but even if it hurts to look him in the eyes, he stares, unwavering. Wordlessly, and fortunately, after a bout of staring at each other to see who'd give in, Tubbo breaks eye contact first. He huffs, clearly very upset, but he leaves the office with his head down and eyes covered, and not once does he look at Purpled.

It's been a full week since Tommy and Ranboo have left, and Purpled is feeling less than pleased with himself as he stares at a loose tile, he keeps his feet firmly flat on the slanted roof before kneeling beside it. There were many loose tiles on the roof of the orphanage that needed fixing, considering the few leaks they've been having every time it rained.

But due to certain circumstances, the orphanage was low on funds, and therefore could not afford any sort of massive repairs. Which Purpled was quick to call bullshit on, even though he never does say it outright.

He digs his fingers under it, and as he shakes it slightly, it pops off from where it was attached to the roof. With a grunt, he slowly places it on the side, and through the gap beneath the tile he just removed sat a small metal box. And Purpled sets his eyes on the lock.

Leaning an elbow on his knee, he contemplates whether he should pick it up and open it. After all these years that he's had it hidden here, back when he had decided that staying here would be for the best, Purpled has started doubting if it ever really was. He wondered if the decision he made to stay was pulled from a simple necessity to lay low when Hunter's started appearing more and more around the lower levels, or perhaps it was more out of his selfish and desperate need of some semblance of normalcy in his life, even if it meant clinging to the one good thing that has had happened to him.

Purpled knows better than to expect anything from it, and yet he still did, and now look at where exactly that's gotten him.

Seeing as how he's got not much of a choice, Purpled ignores the fact that he had been planning to do this since a few days ago right after Ranboo had left, throwing it off each day with what he knew were flimsy excuses. He tugs a thin string from under his shirt, taking the key out to unlock it before he gently tries to pry the lid off of the box, metal scraping against metal sounding absolutely grating to his ears. The rust of the metal makes it a little more difficult to open than it appears, but Purpled makes sure to get a firm grip on it, then with one hard yank he opens the box.

Looking down at the contents was almost a familiar sight, and he pretends like he can't hear his own heart beating loudly against his chest, his breath stuttering. But he can't quite dismiss the way he tightens his hold on the box with a vice grip, couldn't get his eyes to look at anywhere but at the burner sitting almost innocently next to a gold key and a pair of worn padded fingerless gloves.

He ignores the itch in his palms, doesn't acknowledge the feeling of something unpleasant crawling under the skin of his hands beneath the thick fabric of the gloves covering his hands down to his wrists, which he currently has on. His gaze is fixed solely on the key, and he picks it up, tracing the number and name embedded into it.

This was a precaution, he tells himself, that in the case that something happens, he will be ready to take the chance to leave this place if need be. This place barely had anything good to offer him, aside from a free place to sleep in and free food he could eat. And everyone besides Tubbo aren’t worth enough for him to stay, and if Tubbo—if something happens to Tubbo, there won’t be much of anything left for him here.

Things like shelter and food were easy for Purpled to get nowadays, but Tubbo wasn't, and he's not sure what to say, not sure what he could anyways.

He doesn't let himself linger on that thought, dropping the key back into the box before lightly yet securely placing the lid back on, but he doesn’t lock it. After he placed the tile right back where he had taken it out, he held the box against his chest, making sure its contents wouldn't get out before walking his way down the roof. Thankfully it didn't take him long to reach the ground, and Purpled felt a little grateful that today had been more favorable to him, at least long enough for him to retrieve his box safely and secretly, without anyone knowing he was gone. Though the cover of the night certainly helped with that, he thought.

With silent feet, he slowly closes the window quietly as he finally manages to get inside his room, but before he fully relaxes he glances over Tubbo. The brunette huddled inside his blanket, with a head of brown hair being the only thing that Purpled could see from this angle.

For a moment, there's nothing but still silence, only the sound of breathing could be heard between him and Tubbo. It doesn't take him too long to conclude that his roommate was dead asleep, to which Purpled couldn't be any happier despite the current rift between them, small as it is.

A few days ago, since two days went by without any word from Tommy or Ranboo after the latter left, Tubbo had tried to sneak and break into the headmasters office, all in the hopes of using his ability to contact them himself. But Purpled had caught him before he could, and if he were to say that Tubbo was upset with him it would be an understatement. He knew that Tommy meant a lot more to him than anyone, Purpled knew that, and yet—

He looks away, quietly walking towards his bed, then with one hand he lifts the mattress up, shoving his shoulder against it to keep it up. It takes him a bit of struggling but he manages to pry a singular wooden plank off from the bed frame that was supporting the mattress, it was so dark with barely any light that Purpled couldn't see inside, but he knew exactly everything he had hidden under his bed.

He looked down at the metal box in his hand, and before he could have any second thoughts, he gently shoved it down in pitch black, disappearing into the shadows. The moment he pulled his hand out, he placed the plank back as if he hadn't just taken it out, showing a completely hidden spot. With a huff he drops the mattress back over it, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease off its stiffness.

The fatigue hits him just as his head hits the pillow, making him let out a heavy sigh. Purpled can't quite shake off the twinge of pain in his chest, no matter how much he tries to ignore it, it persistently stays like a stubborn mule. It took a bit of tossing and turning for him to finally sleep despite how tired he felt, and he yawned, his eyes blinking slowly as he laid down facing Tubbo's side.

As he falls asleep, he can't help but feel a heavy weight in his chest and wonder why.

There was a moment in his life where he'd nearly experienced what it was like to be at death's door, one he couldn't ever forget. It was an endless hall of pain and fear, a cold dread crept into him then, and despite the ache in his lungs and how his legs trembled, threatening to collapse from under him, he did not stop running.

It was a desperate act, a need to live, and Purpled had not wanted to waste even a second of his time and kept running, no matter how much his body wanted to stop and rest. He remembers it still, almost to the point where he would wonder at times if he had somehow turned back and returned to that time. The feeling of his entire body, weak and lacking, being pushed into its limits, but despite it all he had not stopped to rest when he knew what would happen the moment he did. Everything he would've done up to that point would have been for naught, so he had kept running and never looked back, no matter how guilty it made him feel for being as selfish as he was.

After all, looking out for yourself takes priority over anything and anyone, no matter what. Perhaps it was because he could not truly forget that he couldn't stop but feel the heavy weight of his guilt, and that sometimes during the bad days, if he closed his eyes hard enough he could almost see himself going back to that moment. Those many days of being in a room by himself, his one solace being a friendly voice behind a weathered door, whom he had left behind the moment he had the opportunity.

He tries not to think too much about it anymore, but it doesn't stop him from dreaming it still. It was almost as if his subconscious didn't want him to forget, to always remember what brought him here as he is today; a burden to carry for the rest of his life.

Purpled sighs, running a hand through his hair as he fights the urge to kick off the roof and find Tubbo, wherever he was.

Skipping class wasn't something he normally does, even on the bad days, but just today he didn't feel like listening to a boring lecture. He's heard it far too many times that he could probably recite it like a textbook, and the only reason why he stayed was because—well, just because. Learning was fun when you're actually learning something, but the things that they were taught were information that Purpled either already knew or ones that he could easily have found and learned by himself. As if he'd need someone to teach him about information gathering.

The sound of a car pulling over snaps him out from his thoughts, wheels skidding against the gravel of the pathway, instantly making him curious and wary at the same time. Though the moment he set eyes on a very distinct beat up looking car, Purpled subconsciously hid, placing himself in a way that will be completely out of sight from anyone below him. Grabbing his pocket mirror, he subtly tilts it at an angle where he could see a tall and lanky man getting off that shitty car reflect back at him.

The Syren was another well-known Player, being amongst the top five and had been a Guardian to one of the new up and coming Players recently added by the Admins, with Foxglove being a hot topic in the lower levels last he heard. Something about snooping around the underground, and finding things that he shouldn't.

He barely feels the roof tiles digging into his back, he doesn't so much as breathe even as the man walks out of sight and inside the building, his heart beating hard and fast, rabbit-quick in pace. It almost feels like he's suffocating even when there's plenty of space and an open air to breathe, like death knocking on his door and he's holding his breath, hoping that it'll leave when it hears no response.

It feels a little too close to back then, when he was small and helpless, waiting for the pin to drop in the suffocating silence in his scattered, clustered mind.

Purpled had considered leaving in the middle of the night, without a single word or mention to Tubbo that he'll be gone, and definitely will not be coming back. But he looked back and thought about it again, before deciding otherwise, mostly because it would be selfish and uncalled for if he did, and wasn't that something? Purpled, him, trying not to be selfish. It almost seemed like he was an entirely different person, character development is what he'd call it, but considering he's laid flat on the roof and gasping like a fish on dry land after seeing Syren drop in, perhaps there wasn't much of a development to be had for him.

Tubbo wasn't sitting on his bed and staring at his phone screen like usual by the time he finally got himself off the roof, and Purpled barely held himself back from packing up and leaving. He needed to think, rationally and logically, about what could be happening to Tubbo right now and where he could possibly be.

There weren't many places in the orphanage that Tubbo would go to, very little privacy with how the adults seem to hover and keep an eye on everyone, making sure they don't cause trouble. Which is a word they use rather vaguely, yet so obvious in what they really mean that it's not even funny.

Purpled tries not to think too much of why Syren came by, but he doesn't want to think too little of the why's and the where's of anything to do with Tubbo at the current moment. He doesn't want to brush it off the same way he did Tommy, but even with all his methodical thinking and experiences, none of it has been of help to him at all in his current predicament. Everything he tries to do does nothing to a Player with influence and significance, a Hunter that far outsmarts him, and a fucking Guardian to boot.

He doesn't trust nor believe Guardians as far as he can throw them, not just because of personal opinions and experience, but because of others who have had to deal with ones that don't really give a shit about anything other than saving face with their own ass, making a charity case out of poor orphaned children. Purpled knows, he knows the Syren's reputation, the same with every Hunter worth a dime in his 'avoid at all cost' book. The guy was good, and Foxglove was even better, because he was a Stray too and he won the gamble, he got a better life than any street rat out there. But—

There's that sinking feeling, a dread that seeps in, leaving him cold. A certain kind of fear he's all too familiar with, one that makes him feel restless and all he can think of is 'run'.

He doesn't though, because Tubbo is here and he doesn't want to leave him, doesn't want him to come back to an empty room.

It takes a bit of self-control for Purpled not to immediately jump to questioning Tubbo as soon as he heard the door knob twist open, but the look on his face probably gave him away, seeing as how Tubbo refused to look him in the eyes. There's a faint feeling of his guts twisting into knots, an uncomfortable feeling of something he can't quite put a name on, not that he would, considering he's going high and low in ignoring it. He closes himself off, keeping whatever thoughts or feelings he had behind an unreadable expression, staring blankly right back at Tubbo, who still kept his eyes everywhere but at him.

Purpled wants to know, to press, to ask—"Did you say yes? Did you hold his hand and thanked him? Are you leaving me too?"

He wants to know, but—he keeps quiet instead, averting his gaze down to his hands clasped between his legs. Purpled doesn't know why, perhaps out of consideration, to not pressure him, or perhaps it's to spare himself of having to hear it. He doesn't quite know, and he hates not knowing the answer to every why's.

Tubbo opens his mouth after a long moment of silence, but he closes it right after. It seems like he doesn't know what to say either, if the frustration on his face weren't already as obvious as him glaring.

Purpled closes his eyes, seemingly in resignation, but more like he's preparing himself to accept whatever comes out of Tubbo's mouth. He doesn't quite expect the blunt words though.

"I refused the offer, and promptly told him to fuck off." Tubbo tells him, and Purpled can't help but snap his eyes open, turning to look at the brunette in shock. "Well, I didn't exactly tell him to fuck off, but I did tell him that we wouldn't really be a good match," he says it like he didn't just outright refused a Guardian's offer, like he didn't just give up the chance to be reunited to Tommy, like he didn't care. And that—

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Purpled finds himself utterly speechless, staring at Tubbo in a slightly new light, like he was a completely different person. And perhaps, a large part of Purpled—big enough that he wouldn’t be able to deny it, feels a deep sense of relief, like a chunk of that heavy weight in his chest has been lifted and he can finally breathe.