Chapter Text
When Tommy woke up, he was laying on something flat and hard, head pillowed on his arms and something scrunched into his fist.
His eyes shot open and he jerked upright. There was something draped around him, fabric tangled in his legs and more gently laid across his wings.
Tommy looked around, hands clutched on the cement beneath him. He was outside the bakery, laying curled in the doorway. It was also dark, the only lights coming from street lamps set up every so often.
“Hello?” He croaked out, but the only reply was that of distant dogs barking and the sounds of traffic. “Is anyone there?”
No reply.
Tommy stood up on shaky legs, clutching the fabric - a coat - around his shoulders and turning around to face the bakery. There was a light on in the upstairs apartment. Niki must've seen something, right? She must've seen how he got there. Because the last thing Tommy remembered was falling asleep on someone's shoulder. No… not someone.
Zephyrus’ shoulder.
The name felt a little like stepping into the snow after being inside for a long time. It was cold, and it made Tommy feel exposed.
But he also had the feeling that there was something more important he had to do. Someone he had to tell.
Wait… Tubbo….. Tubbo!
Tommy scrambled through his pockets, finding his phone in the borrowed - or stolen - jacket, which was dark green. He didn’t even have time to feel cold at the realization it was Zephyrus’s coat.
Big Man: Tubbo you there man?
Bumblebitch: yeah
Bumblebitch: Why haven’t you answered any of my texts?
Tommy paused.
Was he going to tell Tubbo what happened?
That he’d talked with one of the members of the Syndicate? That he’d- that he’d let one of them touch his wings?
No. That would cause more problems.
Big Man: Ran out of battery and couldn’t find my charger.
Big Man: Sorry.
Bumblebitch: Oh
Bumblebitch: Okay. See you tomorrow for work, right?
Big Man: Yeah, definitely.
Bumblebitch: Why are you up this late?
Was it late? Tommy checked the time and winced.
Big Man: Why are YOU ?
Bumblebitch: Tooshay. Gn
Big Man: I don’t even know what you’re trying to spell. Goodnight.
Tommy stuck his phone back in a pocket and stumbled to the back of the bakery, knocking on the door and hoping Niki would hear.
While he waited, he struggled to recall anything between now and when he’d been kidnapped.
("Oh, little one, don’t kick-” red shoes red shoes- a rattling croon- ) no matter how hard he tried to remember, the recollection slipped from his mind like water.
Tommy unclenched his fist, revealing a crumpled piece of paper. There were words scribbled on the visible insides, but he couldn’t tell what they said.
Do I want to read it?
He didn’t.
But he also did. It might be important.
There were footsteps inside the bakery,- nd a few seconds later Niki opened the door. Her eyes widened.
"Tommy?" She stepped forward, brushing her hands over Tommy’s face as if to make sure he was real. "Tommy, it's nearly midnight, what are you doing out here?" She looked down, seeing the jacket, and her eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”
“I don’t know,” Tommy said quietly. “It was on me when I woke up here.”
“Well, why don’t you come inside?” Niki ushered him in, locking the door once it had shut. “What happened? You’re shaking.”
Was he?
“I- I don’t know,” Tommy said, playing up the ‘confused and tired’ angle. Okay, it wasn’t much of a lie. “I was walking around, then I saw the Syndicate a-and they….”
Took care of me. I let one of them close.
“When was this? How long were you there?” Niki turned his face to either side, trying to find any signs of injury or sedation.
“It didn’t feel like that long - half an hour, maybe a bit more.” Tommy pulled away, holding the jacket closer around him. “I fell asleep a couple of times, so it might’ve been…” hours. He absently stroked his thumb along the lining of the dark green coat. “I don’t know.”
“That’s alright.” Niki bit her lip, and gently pushed Tommy towards the stairs. “You better stay the night.”
“I- I don’t-”
“Work will start in seven hours, Tommy, we can’t try to get you home this late.” Niki looked out the door’s window. “You should probably text your mom.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, and followed Niki upstairs.
She went looking through a linen closet, taking out a pillow and a couple of blankets to stack in her arms.
“You can camp out on the sofa,” she said breezily. “I need to do the dishes, but I’ll be going to bed soon, so don’t stay up too late.” She looked up, setting the blankets down on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Tommy shook his head quickly, taking the blankets to rearrange.
"No? That's alright. Goodnight, Tommy."
"Night, Niki."
—————
Tubbo was watching Tommy from across the bakery. The avian was moving a lot slower than normal, glancing around every few seconds as if nervous.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Tubbo whispered to Ranboo, who was standing next to him and sectioning out dinner rolls.
“I’m not sure.” Ranboo glanced for a moment. “Maybe he just slept badly. Those are some pretty dark circles.”
Tommy flinched when Wilbur walked past him.
“No,” Tubbo said, shaking his head. “This is different. Something happened to him yesterday.”
“What could spook Tommy like that, though?” Ranboo asked. “He tried to attack Techno just a few days ago, right?”
“I know,” Tubbo said. “But this is… different. Something more.”
“How do you know?”
Tubbo nodded at Tommy’s back.
“Look at his wings.”
Tommy’s feathers were practically glossy, ragged ends smoothed and all laying flat. That, Tubbo hadn’t seen in three years.
“Um… yeah?” Ranboo didn’t seem to notice, which was fair enough.
“They never look that nice,” Tubbo explained. “Even if he knew how to preen his own wings, which he doesn’t, he’d never be able to reach the backs. Something happened, but whatever it was, it was… weird.”
“Oh.” Ranboo paused, a lump of what would become a dinner roll held loosely in one hand. “He’ll tell you if it’s important, right?”
Tubbo shrugged, because he didn’t actually know. Sure, Tommy wasn’t bringing it up, and usually he confided things in Tubbo. But how, he was actually avoiding things, like going out front or talking to really anyone.
Tubbo wasn’t even sure his friend had said a single thing all day. And that- that? That was the scariest thing about all this. Tommy was always loud. If there was one thing that terrified him more than anything else, it was silence.
And now Tommy was silent.
Tommy himself must’ve noticed Tubbo watching him, because he glanced back. When he met Tubbo’s eyes, though, he immediately looked away. His wings pulled in tighter.
“He’ll have to crack soon,” Tubbo muttered, mostly to himself. He forced himself to take a dough lump from Ranboo, rolling it into a ball and setting it in the pan. “He’s terrible at stewing.”
“What if he doesn’t crack?” Ranboo asked, wringing butter-covered fingers. “In a few days-”
“In a few days, if he still hasn’t talked?” Tubbo gave his hands a dark look. “I’ll make him.”
He felt Ranboo give him a look, but neither of them said anything.
As they worked, Tubbo continued to mull Tommy’s behavior over. What would scare him into silence like this?
There was only one thing. Affection.
And it would make sense, if Wilbur had been the one to pick Tommy up yesterday. An older avian would undoubtedly want to look out for a younger member of his kind.
But there was still something missing. Wilbur didn’t seem to be especially knowledgeable on what was wrong with Tommy, and that wouldn’t make sense if he’d been the one to preen Tommy’s wings.
In fact, Tommy seemed to be avoiding Wilbur specifically. When Tommy was given affection, he would cling. And he wasn’t clinging to anyone in the shop.
Tubbo shook his head to bury the worries and the thoughts. He had work to do.
He was spacing out the dough balls when he heard Ranboo’s stomach growl.
“Dude,” he said, turning to look at his coworker with a small laugh. “What was that? Did you eat breakfast?”
Ranboo blinked, tilting his head.
“Ye-e-e-es?”
“You forgot,” Tubbo deadpanned, and Ranboo looked away sheepishly. “I thought you had reminders all over.”
“I was really busy,” Ranboo protested, then wrinkled his nose at Tubbo. “You’re fussing over everybody today.”
Tubbo rolled his eyes.
“Ha ha,” he said. “Look, it’s either fuss over people or skip work.”
“You never told me what you and Tommy were looking around for,” Ranboo said quietly.
“Oh,” Tubbo said. He paused, then tugged Ranboo’s head lower so he could whisper in one long ear, wings buzzing to cover the sound. “I’m trying to investigate the Syndicate. I think Wilbur’s their avian.”
Ranboo whipped his head around, eyes wide.
“What? Why?”
“Long story.” Tubbo sighed and went to the fridge, rummaging through the crisper door. He found an apple, and came back to curl it into Ranboo’s hand. “And I don’t want to tell you right now. Just eat the damn fruit.”
Ranboo muttered something, but took a bite of the apple.
“You know investigating the Syndicate will undoubtedly get you in trouble, right?” He asked around the mouthful.
“I’m being careful,” Tubbo said with a shrug. “I was investigating yesterday, and nothing bad happened.”
“Because I was there,” Ranboo pointed out. “I stopped you from doing anything stupid.”
Tubbo playfully growled at him.
“You happened to be there at the same time as me and we danced. Not the same thing.”
“And if I hadn’t?” Ranboo handed him a dough ball. “What if you’d gotten involved in something dangerous?”
“Then Tommy would’ve gotten help.”
“And if he’d gotten caught too?”
“Then his mom or my dad would go to the cops. Ranboo, none of us are stupid. It’s not like the Syndicate will kidnap us just for existing.”
“Tubbo, you don’t know-”
“Shut up and eat the apple,” Tubbo said, turning away. “Yesterday, Ranboo, you were a distraction, not a help.”
Ranboo pulled in a quiet breath.
“I-I thought you liked it.”
Tubbo bit his lip and turned away.
“I’ve known Tommy for thirteen years,” he whispered. “And I wasn’t there for him. I wasn’t there when he- when he needed me.”
“Tubbo, you can’t-” Ranboo shook his head. “You have to promise not to go looking into the Syndicate, alright?”
“Fine,” Tubbo said, then choked a little as the promise wove its way through his soul. He let out a breath, then scowled and shoved a fist into Ranboo’s chest. “Don’t ever fucking do that again. You understand?”
“I was worried,” Ranboo said, pushing Tubbo’s fist away with more gentleness than he deserved. “I don’t want anything bad happening to you, or Tommy.”
Tubbo wanted to growl at him, but instead he turned away and leaned heavily against the counter. He didn’t want others to be concerned for him. It was meant to be him and Tommy against the world. Just them, together forever.
It was hard to figure out what to do where Ranboo was concerned.
“Maybe I don’t believe you,” Tubbo said bitterly. “You’ve known me for what, a month?”
“So?”
“So maybe I shouldn’t trust you, maybe- maybe I don’t know you well enough.”
There was a pause.
“Then, um. Would you want to come over after work? And we could hang out?”
Tubbo blinked, and looked over at Ranboo.
“What? Why?”
“Because, uh.” Ranboo huffed a little awkwardly. “Because I want to get to know you better, y’know? And why not hang out to do that?”
“Well, I- I dunno.” Tubbo faltered, then looked over to where Charlie was in the corner of the room, spinning absently in his chair and playing a game on his phone. “Hey, Slime?”
Charlie stopped himself with a foot on the wall, head turning all the way around to look at Tubbo.
“Goopy as always, fellow bone-having friend. What’s up?”
“Do you think my dad will mind if I go to Ranboo’s house after work?”
“Schlatt won’t be home until…” Charlie trailed off, making a thoughtful bopping noise. “Late. He wouldn’t notice if you were gone, but I’ll have to make sure.”
Tubbo pulled his attention back to Ranboo.
“That’s basically a ‘yes’,” he said. “When my dad’s gone, he doesn’t get back until I’m already asleep. And unless someone rats me out, he’ll have no way of knowing where I am.” Tubbo raised one hand to push hair out of his eyes, then wrinkled his nose at the weird smell on his skin. “I’m going to wash my hands. Back in a few.”
When Tubbo got back, Ranboo was pulling handfuls of hair into a ponytail, probably to avoid the same problem Tubbo had been dealing with. Ranboo glanced over, and his ears flicked up.
“Tubbo! We’re supposed to go restock the front.”
“Alright.” Tubbo spared a glance for Tommy, who was perched on a stool and stirring something in a bowl as he stared off into some unseen middle distance. “I- I don’t want to leave him, though.”
“Hey,” Ranboo said, “he’ll be okay for five minutes.” He tugged gently on Tubbo’s arm, pulling him towards the front. “C’mon.”
Tubbo let himself be pulled along, grabbing the rack for restocking so it followed him to the front.
“You’re awfully involved in my business today,” he told Ranboo, replacing an empty tray with one full of muffins. “Any reason, or is it because you’re bored?”
Ranboo huffed out a little amused sound.
“It’s because I don’t want you getting yourself sick or hurt again.”
“Oh?” Tubbo grinned. “I’m his favorite?”
Ranboo scowled.
“You have a very high opinion of yourself.”
“But I’m your favorite,” Tubbo cooed, leaning in and flaring his wings out. “I’m his fa-a-avorite.”
“You said I was distracting,” Ranboo retorted, poking one of Tubbo’s wings. “I guess neither of us win.”
“Different case,” Tubbo chirped.
“How?”
“I was doing important things,” Tubbo said, continuing through the room. “You weren’t.”
“So you’re saying taking care of you isn’t important?” Ranboo tagged along as Tubbo walked.
“Well,” Tubbo said, “maybe you thought that. Maybe it wasn’t a life-threatening situation to use me as a pillow.”
Ranboo stammered, going red.
“I what? I don’t- I don’t- I don’t remember that.”
“So sad,” Tubbo deadpanned, hopping up on the counter next to Tommy. “I’ll be using it against you, no doubt.”
“Hm? What’re you using?” Tommy looked up from his bowl.
“He speaks, it’s a miracle!” Tubbo threw his hands in the air, pretending he hadn’t been viciously worried. He grinned at Tommy. “Ranboo here made a fool of himself when I was sick.”
“I didn’t-”
“Cool.” Tommy looked back down at his bowl.
Tubbo’s smile slipped away.
“Tommy.”
“Mm?”
“Are you okay? You’ve been acting… weird.”
Tommy paused. Then he looked down, and went back to stirring.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“What kind of stuff? Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?”
“I’m tired of people asking me if I want to talk,” Tommy said, voice cold and sharp. “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Fine,” Tubbo said, voice just as sharp. He hopped back down off the counter. “You want to sit here and brood, then fine. But don’t get mad at me for worrying about you.”
“I am sick of people worrying about me.” Tommy stabbed his spoon into the bowl. “I don’t need it.”
Tubbo reached out, and his fingers brushed against Tommy’s wings.
Tommy tensed, then pulled away.
“Leave me alone.”
Tubbo scowled.
“Then have fun by yourself.”
Tommy’s expression pulled info something sharp and he set his spoon down, walking stiffly over to Niki. He murmured something to her and she nodded, so because of that or in spite of it, Tommy went upstairs. Wilbur noticed, and began to follow, but Niki stopped him with a hand to the chest and a shake of her head.
Tubbo almost felt bad for pushing Tommy away. But he didn’t. Instead he turned, nearly running into Ranboo before staggering, both hands flying up.
“Sorry,” he muttered, fingertips brushing over Ranboo’s apron before he stepped back. “Wilbur?”
“Yeah?”
“What else are we doing today?”
“Hm? Oh, uh. Right now, we should have a bit of a lull. You can hang out a bit, I’ll call you if we need you.”
“Ah.” Tubbo sighed, then went to the breakroom. Once there, he sat down and put his head in his hands.
After a moment, there was a soft sound.
“Tubbo?”
Tubbo sighed again, and looked up.
“What, Ranboo?”
Ranboo was hovering in the doorway, wringing his hands.
“I-I was thinking,” he said, “u-um, if you’re tired of being inside, there’s- there’s a park close by, a-and it’ll be nice around now.”
Tubbo watched him for a moment.
“You want… to go on a walk with me?”
Ranboo reddened a little.
“Maybe?”
Tubbo blinked at him, then stood.
“That… actually sounds great about now.”
They walked back to the main workroom of the bakery, Tubbo pausing before leaving the door.
“Slime?”
Charlie looked up from his spinning chair and a plateful of broken cookies. The broken bits floated in his throat, faintly visible through the green slime.
“Mmf- Yeah?”
“You stay here,” Tubbo said, still holding Ranboo’s hand so he wouldn’t leave just yet. “We’re going on a walk.”
Charlie’s eyebrows popped up, and his gaze flicked from Tubbo to the connected hands.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I’d hate to impose. Have fun on your… walk.”
Tubbo threw a whisk at him.
“Let’s go,” he said to Ranboo, and they both left, pulling off their aprons before they did so.
Outside, Ranboo took the lead, since Tubbo had no idea where they were going.
It was a beautiful day, early summer where the leaves were still green and the sun was barely hot. Tubbo began to relax a little as he walked, letting his wings flare out and his head tilt back to soak up the sun.
“Good idea,” Tubbo murmured. “I would’ve gone crazy in there.”
Ranboo looked back at him, and the barest smile crossed his face.
“I thought you were already a little crazy.”
Tubbo laughed a little and swatted his arm.
“Screw you! I’m a delight, if you must know.”
Ranboo grinned at him, eyes crinkling up, and teleported away a few feet.
“Oh, sure you are!”
Tubbo gasped at him dramatically, and ran to catch up.
“You can’t just-” Ranboo teleported again and Tubbo practically screamed. “Hey!”
“No harm done!” Ranboo called over his shoulder. “Use your wings if you really want to catch up!”
“You bet your skinny ass I will!” Tubbo jumped off the ground, wings snapping open so he zipped over the ground and nearly tackled Ranboo, who teleported away just before.
This continued several more times, and by the time they were surrounded by trees Ranboo was laughing hard enough it was easy work for Tubbo trip him. Ranboo grabbed Tubbo’s wrist as he fell, and the pair tumbled straight into a bush.
Tubbo yelped, being prodded by sticks and whatever, and immediately tried to get up, but things were caught in his clothes and he kept getting pulled back down, barely propped up and wrapped around Ranboo like a fucking degenerate as he struggled.
“Ra-Ran, Ranboo, I can’t- I can’t- I’m stuck-”
“Tubbo, Tub- hey, hey, you’re alright-” Ranboo struggled out of the bush, spitting hair out of his face. He was trying to help, but Tubbo could barely think between the snowflakes and the sparks and bubbles all around, brushing and exploding against his skin in a flurry of everything- Tubbo made a strangled noise and shook his head, listing forwards as he tried to empty his thoughts but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-
“Tubbo,” Ranboo said, and grabbed his face.
The startling cold shocked Tubbo back into calm, gasping softly. He opened his eyes again. Ranboo smiled a little at him.
“Hey, hey. Better?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tubbo let out a breath, shaking his head. “Sorry, I-I-”
“You’re alright,” Ranboo said, letting go so he could snap a few twigs. “Sorry, I didn’t know this would happen.”
“I’m not used to, um.” Tubbo waved his hands absently, then remembered where he was currently sitting and scrambled back, trying to not go red as he untwisted his shirt. “Sorry. Nevermind.”
He sat and watched as Ranboo picked leaves out of his hair, delicately flicking them away.
“I didn’t predict any of this,” Ranboo said with a little laugh, then shrugged and tilted his head back. “But hey. We’re here.”
Tubbo looked up. They were surrounded by trees, and it filtered the sunlight into a thousand speckling patterns of green and gold on grassy paths.
His eyes widened.
“Whoa,” he couldn’t help breathing, soaking in the sight.
“You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Tubbo said softly. “My house doesn’t have trees this big, or this…” he raised one hand up to the sky, watching the speckled light dance across his skin. “Free, I guess.”
“I hoped you’d like it.”
Tubbo blinked, and pulled his eyes back down so he could look at Ranboo. The enderian was stretched out on the grass, absently combing more leaves out of his tail.
“You-” Tubbo blinked again. “You did?”
Ranboo didn’t look up.
“I-I, um- yeah. I figured- I figured, y’know… fae. Plants.”
Tubbo snorted, both because that was silly and he couldn’t believe Ranboo would actually consider what he wanted.
“Sure, Boo boy.” He turned to look out at the park again. It really was nice.
“Do you, um- um.” Ranboo didn’t finish, so Tubbo tilted his head and inspected him.
“What?”
Ranboo returned his gaze, and something about his expression…. Changed. Shifted slightly, as though between one moment and the next he’d learned something entirely new and he’d never be the same.
Tubbo blinked at him. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing the way Ranboo was looking at him made some deep part of him tremble. God, it scared him.
“Ranboo?”
“Hm? What?”
“Why are you staring at me?”
Ranboo stammered, scratching at his arm, and looked away.
“N-no- no reason. Sorry.”
Tubbo frowned vaguely, wrapping his arms around his knees. He didn’t really like that answer, but it wasn’t like he could get a better one. So he sat there, and looked out at the trees.
“There’s so much here,” he said after a moment. “So much life. I can barely tell any of it apart, a-and at first it was…” overwhelming, he didn’t say. He dropped one hand to brush over the grass, feeling millions of warm bubbles popping against his palm.
“Ah.” Ranboo idly picked at his hair. “So it- it all feels basically the same?”
“You feel different from the grass,” Tubbo said. “But I haven’t really practiced besides that, so…” Tubbo looked around again, then saw a dandelion poking up from the grass a short bit away. “Huh. Maybe…”
He reached out, and brushed his fingertips over the flower. At first, it just felt like the other plants- bubbly and warm. But when Tommy thought harder, trying to focus, the bubbles felt… stickier. Clingy, almost, leaving a gross film across Tubbo’s skin even after he pulled away.
“That’s different.” Tubbo grimaced, rubbing his hand on his shirt as if to scrape away the unpleasant sensation. “Ugh.”
“It feels bad?” Ranboo sat up straighter, rolling a little so his legs stretched in front of him. His pant cuffs were too short.
“Yeah.” Tubbo made an exaggerated disgusted face, rewarded by Ranboo’s small laugh. “Just ‘cause I’m fae doesn’t mean I like how everything feels. And I don’t like that.”
Ranboo nodded, but didn’t say much else, just tucked his feet up so he sat cross-legged.
After a moment, Tubbo flopped down in the grass on his back, wings spread so he wouldn’t snap them by accident.
“Do you like this place?” He asked, looking up at Ranboo.
Ranboo looked back down at him, thoughtfully tilting his head.
“I do,” he said after a moment. “It’s nice. I’ve been here before, and usually it’s pretty empty- I can hang out, and sometimes the animals will come out and do their thing while I’m there.”
“That makes you sound like a fairytale princess,” Tubbo said with a laugh.
“Hey, it means it’s safe. And quiet.” Ranboo paused, curled as if protecting something just below his ribs. His fingers drummed on his arms. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, like a confession. “It’s so loud in the Overworld. Sometimes it’s- it’s too much. The End, from what I remember, it- it was… quiet. Quieter than here.”
Tubbo was surprised.
“I- I guess I didn’t know that some places were almost silent.” He paused, then said- “I know lots of people don’t really like silence, though. When me and Tommy were little, we were playing hide-and-seek in my dad’s house. Somehow he ended up getting stuck in a closet, and no one realized he was there for a long time. No one could hear him calling for us, since he was super out of the way. When we found him, he was… really upset. He wouldn’t stop screaming.” At the memory, Tubbo frowned. It made him uneasy.
“I know lots of people don’t like silence,” Ranboo said quietly, fingers twisting blades of grass and snapping a few of the delicate stalks. “I just… prefer the quiet. Sometimes things are too loud.”
“I get that,” Tubbo said. “Maybe it’s just a Tommy thing. He’s an avian, and all, and some other stuff. And he’s my best friend, but- but sometimes I wish he’d be quiet so I could think.”
Ranboo propped his chin on one hand.
“Not today’s quiet, though.”
Tubbo grimaced.
“No way. Today he’s just scared. He can be quieter, it’s just…” Tubbo sighed. It felt wrong talking about Tommy behind his back like this, but the bottle had been uncorked and he couldn’t stop the bubbles fizzing up in his chest. “Being loud is how he copes with shit. I can’t fault him for that. He can’t stand silence, bothers people so they won’t get attached to him, uses being loud as a way of distracting people from how he really feels. The scary thing is that it works. All of it. And I just…”
“You don’t know what to do,” Ranboo offered. Tubbo nodded mutely, unwilling to say what was choking in his throat, in the sharp glass of the bottle.
I’m scared that if he stops pushing people away he’ll find someone else.
I’m scared he’ll leave me.
I don’t want him to leave me.
Tubbo bit his lip, then rolled onto his side to face Ranboo. Grass poked up between long fingers, one of Ranboo’s hands pressed into the dirt a breath away from Tubbo’s face.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Tubbo said quietly. “I don’t even know if you want to hear all this.”
Ranboo shrugged.
“If you want to talk, I’m going to listen. Doesn’t matter what you’re talking about.”
“God, Ranboo, who said you were a therapist?” Tubbo rolled his eyes in amusement, then sighed, raising his gaze. “Tommy’s an idiot sometimes.”
Ranboo tilted his head a little, eyes gleaming in the shifting light. It seemed to throw his eyes into something entirely new, like miniature nebulas condensed into red and green.
“Guess you two are made for each other.”
Tubbo looked down. Ranboo’s gaze made him feel weird, even when the moment wasn’t so tense.
“I guess.” Tubbo poked a finger into the ground, dirt coating his skin and sliding under his nail. “This is so stupid. We’re supposed to be taking a break, and I’m just yapping about Tommy.”
“Then maybe we need to find another distraction,” Ranboo said. He stood up and held out a hand. “C’mon, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Tubbo looked up again. Ranboo had on a small, almost shy smile, hand outstretched.
Tubbo blinked in confusion, but took the hand.
Ranboo led him down a path fainter than others visible in the trees, implying infrequent use. The enderian had to duck under branches that draped too low, picking his way over roots that Tubbo stumbled on. This part of the park seemed wilder, trees more tangled around them and underbrush scrubbier.
Tubbo couldn’t help thinking a that this frame - Ranboo holding his hand, pulling him deeper into the trees - wouldn’t be out of place in some fantasy-romance movie where Main Character and Love Interest would run off and make out somewhere secluded.
Tubbo, recognizing that stupid thought for being an Incredibly Stupid Thought, pushed it from his mind, glad Ranboo hadn’t looked back.
Eventually, the pair reached a clearing much farther from the main road. This area of the park was clearly not as maintained, and the only thing Tubbo could see that was obviously intentionally made was a pair of bowl sitting in the grass, one with water and the other empty.
Ranboo crouched down near the bowls and made a few clicking noises. After a few seconds, a slender black cat snuck out of the bushes, blinking green eyes.
“This is Enderchest,” Ranboo said, smiling and murmuring to the cat in Enderian as it pushed a wedge-shaped head against his hand.
“You’re just a big dork,” Tubbo deadpanned, holding very very still. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Ranboo rolled his eyes.
“She’s friendly, alright?” Ranboo continued to pet her. “She gets spooked easily, but she must be an abandoned pet. Someone might’ve dumped her out of a car- I think I found her on the side of the road.”
A part of Tubbo twisted.
“That’s awful.” He watched as Ranboo stroked down to Ender jest’s back, the base of her tail where she arched up to meet him. “Why do you leave her out here?”
“I can’t have pets in my apartment.” Ranboo sighed, and scratched the fur between the car’s ears. She purred, the sound rumbling in the air. “When I’ve saved up enough for a different apartment, I’ll bring her with me, but for now I bring her food and water and make sure she’s okay.”
“She really likes you.” Tubbo crouched too, hesitantly holding out a hand. Enderchest sniffed him, wet nose brushing his knuckles, but went back to Ranboo and stepped onto his lap. “Rude.”
Ranboo snickered, shifting Enderchest’s position so her feet wouldn’t dig into his legs.
“I’m really the only person she knows.”
“Maybe you’re a supervillain!” Tubbo said excitedly. “You’ve got a spooky cat and everything!”
Ranboo gasped at him in mock offense, then scooped Enderchest up like a baby.
“Aw, you’re not spooky at all,” he cooed to her. “You’re the prettiest girl around. He’s just jealous.”
“Am not!” Tubbo protested, and Ranboo leaned his face into Enderchest’s belly to hide laughter. “Anyone who gets jealous over a cat is stupid, and lame!”
“My words exactly,” Ranboo said, nodding even as Enderchest put a paw on his face. “Brave of you to admit it.”
“I can’t lie, bitch!” Tubbo fumed, then flipped him off and folded his arms. “Jokes on you, I’ll find my own pet who loves me dearly and make you the jealous one.”
“How dramatic,” Ranboo sighed with a grin. “C’mere, sit down.”
Tubbo did so, and suppressed the urge to flinch as Ranboo took his wrist, setting his hand on Enderchest’s head. The sparks of the cat felt like a warmer, softer version of Ranboo’s. More affectionate, almost, as if she knew she was loved.
“See?” Ranboo murmured softly, smoothing Tubbo’s hand down Enderchest’s head as the cat seemed to resign herself to the awkward attempt at affection. “Calm down, and everything will be fine.”
Tubbo looked up from under his hair, nose itching from loose cat fur. Ranboo’s eyes were down, on the pair of hands.
“Are you talking to me, or to her?” Tubbo asked.
Ranboo shrugged.
“Both, I guess.” His grip was gentle, but he didn’t let Tubbo pull away as he continued the stroking. “Relax. She won’t hurt you.”
Tubbo scoffed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He looked down again. Ranboo’s hand still rested on his own. The fingers were longer than Tubbo’s, skin dark and slightly chilly. But it was there.
“You’re all tense.” Ranboo’s fingertips spread over the back of Tubbo’s hand, and it felt like fire. A thumb brushed over the inside of his wrist. “And I can feel your pulse. Your heart’s racing.”
“Maybe.” Tubbo hoped he wasn’t red. His other hand was curled into a fist, digging into the grass. “But it’s not because of the cat.”
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with intent. Tommy bumped against him all the time, slapped his back or punched at his shoulders.
But this felt different.
“I’m not used to this,” Tubbo whispered.
Ranboo pulled away as though he’d been burned.
“Oh! I’m- I’m so- I’m sorry, I- I didn’t- I didn’t-”
“Don’t be sorry.” Tubbo let out a long, slow breath. “I-it’s… it’s actually kinda nice.”
Even now, the fire remained in his bones. The branded touch of fingertips on his skin burned like the sun.
“Oh.” Ranboo slowly went back to scratching Enderchest’s ears, very carefully not looking up. He seemed… unsure. His shoulders were around his ears.
Tubbo tilted his head, and made a decision.
“What, you embarrassed now?” He teased, hoping it would hide his own nervousness.
Ranboo blinked, and his ears went down.
“No-o-o…”
Tubbo raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t lie, Boo, I can tell you’re embarrassed.”
“Am not,” Ranboo mumbled, tail twitching nearly within swiping reach of Enderchest. “You’re the one who made it weird.”
“Relax, bossman.” Tubbo reached out, and gingerly scratched around Enderchest’s ears. “I’m just teasing you.”
He could feel snowflakes. But he ignored them, focusing on the cat under his hand. She purred still, eyes closed. She was… actually growing on him.
“She bites my hand sometimes,” Ranboo said idly, and Tubbo gave him a panicked look, pulling away.
“And you made me pet her?” He froze again as Enderchest grabbed his hand in both paws.
“Hey, she’s normally a total sweetheart.” Ranboo spoke some more to Enderchest in his own crackly language, smiling at the delighted meow he received in response. “It’s you! You’re a sweetheart who’d never try eating anyone’s hand.”
“I guess now we know who you like better,” Tubbo sniffed.
“I like the one of you who didn’t kick me in the stomach.” Ranboo held Enderchest closer, grinning at Tubbo through black fur. “Maybe that is picking favorites.”
“She’s a cat,” Tubbo protested. “I’m an intelligent species!”
Ranboo sniffed.
“Excuse you. Cats are very intelligent.”
“Sentient, then.”
Ranboo shook his head, still grinning a little.
“Are you sure you’re an intelligent species?”
Tubbo gasped at him.
“Y- ex- you- I would never try to eat your hand.” He turned his nose up disdainfully. “I am above that.”
Enderchest meowed.
“I’ll have to agree with her,” Ranboo said. “You’d definitely bite my hand. You, Tommy, maybe Wilbur. You’d eat me given the chance.”
“Gross.” Tubbo stuck out his tongue. “You’d taste gross.”
“Apparently we taste like chicken,” Ranboo said cheerfully. “Do you think chicken is gross?”
Tubbo fell on his back, wings spreading as he laughed.
“Bossman, that’s disgusting! Why did I need to know that?”
“Because you brought up eating people!” Ranboo protested, but he was smiling.
“You’re the one who said I’d eat you,” Tubbo shot back.
“And you never denied it.” Ranboo pointed at him accusingly. “You just said I’d taste gross.”
Tubbo nodded.
“Exactly. I’d never eat something gross. Besides, you’re a friend other than Tommy.” He paused, then, and his face fell as he remembered everything he’d been worried about. “Tommy…”
“Hey, no, nope, no worrying about Tommy.” Ranboo held Enderchest out, mock-frowning at Tubbo. “No more worrying, pet the cat.”
Tubbo rolled his eyes, but moved around so he could lay parallel to Enderchest and rest his hand on her side.
“I can’t just stop worrying,” he said. He dragged his fingertips over the cat’s fur, short black strands brushing across his skin.
“Maybe,” Ranboo said. “But hey, someone’s probably talked to Tommy by now. When we get back, I’d bet my weekly paycheck that he’ll be back to his usual loud, annoying self.” Enderchest squirmed and he let her go, Tubbo quickly pulling his hand back. Ranboo tilted his head slightly, regarding the person at his feet. “You don’t have to think about it right now.”
“Probably. Trouble is, I can’t stop thinking either.” Tubbo, with nothing else to do, ran one hand over the grass in front of him. “‘S too much going on.”
Ranboo blinked at him.
“I-I thought we decided it was quiet out here?”
“No, not- not outside.” Tubbo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, tapping at his forehead. “In here.” He let out a breath. “When I’m worrying, about something, it’s almost impossible to stop. My mind runs and runs until I get too exhausted and pass out, but before then it’s just….” He fiddled with a weed poking out of the grass, but stopped when the prickly sensation became too much to bear.
“It’s hard?” Ranboo scoffed a little. “Well, duh. To be honest, you kind of seem stressed all the time. Maybe if that was helped, the rest would get better.”
“Or maybe I’m like everyone else,” Tubbo said bitterly, “but I’m just shit at handling it.”
“I don’t think so. You’re actually really good at handling things. Stuff’s hard, that’s all.”
Tubbo looked up at the sky. It was hemmed in by trees in every direction, so blue it almost looked like it was on fire.
“Who said you could be so smart?” He asked it softly. “When did you suddenly decide that I mattered?”
“Huh?”
Tubbo shut his eyes.
“Nothing. I-it’s nothing. I just don’t know what to do.”
“If you’re stressed, then maybe- maybe something relaxing? Depends on what you find relaxing. There’s watching a movie, obviously, but a lot of movies make me nervous so maybe it would be hard to find a movie that doesn’t stress you out-”
“Ranboo?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.” Tubbo smiled a little to himself, hearing Ranboo’s amused-yet-annoyed sigh. “I’m just going to lay here, alright?”
“Okay.”
After a moment, Tubbo cracked one eye open. Ranboo had his head tipped back, leaning on his hands as he soaked in the sun.
Well, he looked comfortable. Maybe he was onto something.
Tubbo shifted how he lay, cheek pressed idk the grass and wings buzzing once or twice to shake off the cat hairs. The warmth of the sunlight melted over his head and back, and he let out a small, contented sigh.
“Tired?” Ranboo asked. His voice was more gravelly than normal. Maybe he was falling asleep.
“‘S nice,” Tubbo mumbled. The ground was cool, and between the two the temperature was perfect. His thoughts had finally slowed down, the warmth making them syrupy and slowed.
Something brushed the edge of his wing, and it twitched on instinct. Tubbo hummed softly.
“Mm. What’re you doing?”
“Sorry,” Ranboo said quickly. “It- it was an accident.”
Fire flickered up the sides of Tubbo’s wings, and he flicked them back out again.
“I don’t mind,” he whispered. He could feel Ranboo’s knee against one wing. Pressure, but not much else. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“You sure?” Ranboo sounded so hesitant, pulling away just slightly so he wasn’t touching Tubbo. “I- I thought insect wings were less- less durable.”
Tubbo giggled a little, both because he was punch-drunk on sunshine and because Ranboo had used the word durable, like a nerd. Tubbo would say ‘more breakable’.
“Mhm,” he said, still slurred a little. “Kinda. But just touching ‘em won’t do anything. I’m not a butterfly.”
“I think…. I think insect wings are cool.” There was a brush of air, right across Tubbo’s wing. Electricity sparked up his spine, across his scalp.
Tubbo didn’t open his eyes. He opened his wings instead, so they pressed against Ranboo’s knees.
“You’re okay,” Tubbo whispered. “I don’t mind.”
A small sound. Like a breath let out. Something gingerly rested against his wing, where the nerves were thicker.
“It’s like glass,” Ranboo said.
Tubbo blindly reached out, finding the end of Ranboo’s tail resting in the grass.
“You’re kind of like a cat,” Tubbo remarked.
A small snort.
“What gave you that idea?” The tail was odd, bony under the thick fur and twisting as if trying to pull out of Tubbo’s hand. Its owner’s voice was dry. “You know, there aren’t even any cats in the End.”
Tubbo hummed wordlessly, the electricity prickly over his spine again and around his ribs as Ranboo’s gentle fingers trailed closer to skin than chitin.
“How long do you think it’s been since we left?” Tubbo asked softly.
“Not long.” Ranboo faltered, stilling. “Why- why? Is something- is something wrong?”
“Nah,” Tubbo said, shifting closer. He kept his eyes closed, and his hand on Ranboo. “Just curious. You….. you don’t have to stop.”
“Oh.” Ranboo’s touch slid down the edge of Tubbo’s wing, and lingered near the joint.
Tubbo knew what made him linger. He himself could see it, when he looked over his shoulder in the mirror. A short, slitted scar, just under the joint where wing became skin. Always visible. Always hidden, locked at the back of Tubbo’s head.
“What’s this?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please! Please!” Blood, staining towels, staining hands, staining hands. “I’ll never do it again.” Two stitches. No flying for two months, no lifting anything over fifteen pounds for three months. “What happened?” “You ever breathe a word of this to anyone, next time it’s your wrist, understand?”
Tubbo swallowed.
“I-I-I-I- it happened a long time ago.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter (I can’t breathe it still hurts I don’t want to think about it please please). “It- it- it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Please don’t ask anymore. Please don’t make me say more.
“Alright,” Ranboo said easily, as though Tubbo didn’t have scar tissue woven through his ribs. The enderian laughed softly, fingertips skating over the surface of Tubbo’s wing. “This is so weird- I keep thinking I’ll rip it right open.”
“You won’t. Don’t worry.” Tubbo cracked his eyes open, watching Ranboo through the blades of grass in front of him. The enderian didn’t meet his gaze, eyes fixed on the sunlight gleaming off translucent membranes. “I’m not made of glass.”
“You look like it,” Ranboo said softly, touch dipping over ridges in Tubbo’s wings. His fingertips were so light. “Especially out here.”
“Just my wings,” Tubbo said, half-joking and fanning his wings slightly. The grass brushed across his cheeks and arms, tickling at his neck. “I’m tree roots everywhere else- stubborn and always in places they shouldn’t be.”
“And stable. You keep Tommy grounded.” Ranboo glanced over, then realized Tubbo was looking back and stammered- “A-at, at least- at least that’s what- that’s what I’ve seen.”
Tubbo grinned at him slowly.
“You’re pandering.”
Ranboo scoffed, holding one hand to his chest to clutch at imaginary pearls.
“Uh, am not.” He leaned forward and lightly tapped Tubbo’s antennae with a finger. “Why? Do you want me to pander?”
Tubbo grinned wider, and tapped Ranboo back with his antennae.
“Do you want me to want you to pander?”
“I-” Ranboo shook his head. “That’s too many things. I’m confused now.”
Tubbo laughed.
“Success! I distracted you!”
Ranboo pouted, lightly taking ahold of Tubbo’s wing.
“You’re so mean,” he said, tail curling as if to tuck around his feet.
“Says you,” Tubbo retorted, keeping Ranboo’s tail in his grasp. “You’re not slipping away again.”
“Slipping away?” Ranboo huffed. “I was getting you food.”
“How much of that day do you remember?” Tubbo asked.
Ranboo shrugged, spreading a hand along the widest part of Tubbo’s wing.
“Bits and pieces,” he said. He was gently tracing the segments of the wing, one finger skating lightly over the clear membrane. “You falling asleep on the couch. The plants. Grapes. Getting kicked in the stomach. Not much else.” He fell silent then, other hand spreading out to thumb over the hooks on Tubbo’s lower wing.
Tubbo could see the wonder in Ranboo’s eyes. It surprised him. No one had ever really looked at the pieces of him that were visibly other.
Not like this.
Not like it was something worth seeing.
Not even Tommy.
“You’re quiet,” Ranboo said without looking over. His eyes still gleamed like twin nebulae. “Something bothering you?”
“Nah.” Tubbo fanned his wings lightly, watching how it threw off shadows and reflections on Ranboo’s face. “Just thinking.”
“That’s never gone wrong,” Ranboo joked, spreading his fingertips back over Tubbo’s wing. “Not thinking about murder, I hope.”
“You’re lucky today,” Tubbo mumbled. “I’m not.”
Ranboo’s white hair had turned a cream color in the sunlight. His hairtie had fallen out at some point, letting everything brush against his shoulders and beyond.
Why was Tubbo staring?
Ranboo glanced over, and their gazes locked. His eyes widened a little.
“Tubbo?”
Tubbo blinked.
“Yeah?”
Ranboo stammered, words not understandable before he looked away.
“N-nothing, may-maybe we should head back.” He released Tubbo’s wing, hands quickly twining together in his lap. “I-I-I think Wilbur will be wanting us.”
Tubbo buried the urge to frown, though he couldn’t help the fear that shivered through his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Did Ranboo hate him?
He folded his wings back in and stood, brushing grass off his jeans.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.” He held out one hand. Ranboo considered it for a moment, then accepted the hand. When he stood, he towered over Tubbo, tail flicking behind him.
Tubbo, not really sure what he was supposed to do, turned around without saying anything and began to walk down the path they’d used to enter this little clearing.
For a moment, he imagined there was a brush of fingers against his wings. Then he vanished that thought and kept walking. The trip back to the bakery was silent.
Once he was inside the employee door, Tubbo grabbed his apron off its hook, going to wash his hands. He felt weird. He wasn’t sure what thoughts were running through his head, as all he kept getting were flashes of sunlight and fire across his wings.
“Tubbo?”
Tubbo scanned the rack, checking for empty spots.
“What?” He glanced over a shoulder. “Do you need something?”
Ranboo, who had a raised hand, shut his mouth and scratched at his arm. He turned away, probably to go get his apron.
“Nevermind. It’s nothing.”
“Alright then.” Tubbo continued scanning the shelves, trying to banish the echoes of hands on his wings. “Can you check to see what’s in the oven?”
“I’ll do that,” Wilbur said, having returned to the room. Tommy was shadowing him, strangely enough. “Glad you’re back. Where’d you go?”
“The park,” Ranboo said before Tubbo could answer. “We hung out a bit and came back.”
“Where’s Charlie?” Tubbo asked.
“Bathroom,” Wilbur said. “Or maybe he left entirely. Beats me.”
Tommy had his hands fisted in Wilbur’s sleeve. Why? What had happened?
“Where’s Niki?” Tubbo asked, trying to pretend he was worried about something else.
“Said she needed to talk with Phil,” Wilbur said. “She’s been upstairs on a call with him for fifteen minutes. And believe me, she was pissed. Muttered something about Phil not doing his job properly.”
Ranboo stiffened, but Tubbo was merely confused.
“Phil doesn’t work here, does he?”
“Nah.” Wilbur didn’t seem to notice Tommy as he checked the oven, but Tommy continued to keep a hand on him. “He’s got a desk job for some small business, maybe she went there and he’d messed up. Who knows?” Wilbur shrugged and picked up the clipboard, flipping through the pages. “Right. Someone get the oven when the timer goes off, I’ll go out front and take orders. I’ll call if I need any of you, alright?”
“Alright,” Ranboo said, peering over at the oven. “Ten minutes to go. Hey, what about those rolls me and Tubbo did earlier?”
“They’re out already,” Wilbur replied, setting the clipboard down. “Give them time to cool off first.” Then he carefully removed Tommy’s hands from his sweater and headed to the front.
If Tommy let out a small, broken chirp, no one mentioned it.
“Hey… Tommy.” Ranboo awkwardly leaned against the counter, Tubbo hovering a safe distance away.
“Ranboo,” Tommy replied flatly. He was washing a pair of bowls in the sink, elbows-deep in soapy water.
Ranboo nervously glanced at Tubbo, who gave him a ‘go on’ gesture.”
“Um,” Ranboo said, “what did you do while we were gone?”
“Sat upstairs,” Tommy said. “Talked with Wil. You?”
“I-I went to the park with Tubbo.”
This wasn’t going anywhere. Tubbo hated it.
Ranboo glanced over at Tubbo again. Tubbo gestured frantically at Tommy.
“Did- um,” Ranboo began, “did something happen? Yesterday?”
Tommy stiffened slightly, feathers puffing up. A moment later, he turned away, drying his hands on a nearby towel.
“I didn’t get a lot of sleep, if that’s what you mean. And honestly, Ranboo, if Tubbo put you up to this you can at least try to act concerned.” His voice was tart. “Even if you weren’t the one who ditched me.”
“I didn’t ditch you,” Tubbo spat out, surging closer. He threw one arm and a glare at Ranboo. “That was all his fault.”
“Hey.” Ranboo had the audacity to look offended. “You decided to dance with me. That’s not my fault!”
“It is because you distracted me!” Tubbo said, voice climbing in volume. “I wouldn’t have left Tommy at all if you hadn’t been mucking around and decided you needed my opinion, or my dancing!”
Tommy had been standing there, shrinking with every second as Tubbo got louder.
“This is your fault?” He asked Ranboo, the words quiet and sharp. “You’re the reason I got-” He swallowed, and said nothing more, but Tubbo had already latched onto the unfinished phrase.
“You got what?”
“Nothing,” Tommy said. “Nevermind.”
“No, Tommy, I know you’re hiding something.” Tubbo stepped closer, but Tommy stepped back.
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, and turned. “I’m going to see if Wil needs anything.”
With that, he was gone, leaving Tubbo steaming and Ranboo guiltily picking at the skin on his wrist.
“I thought you said Phil had him,” Tubbo said, voice low.
“He did,” Ranboo replied quietly. “I can even show you my phone.”
“Okay, yeah, sure, whatever.” Tubbo rolled his eyes and turned away. “I guess I have to believe you.”
“Tubbo, I-”
“Save it.” Tubbo glanced at the timer on the oven. Six minutes left.
Still ignoring Ranboo, Tubbo grabbed some potholders and slapped them down on a counter, trying to pretend he didn’t hear the frustrated enderian noises made by Ranboo.
Common sense, of course, said that Ranboo had no reason to lie.
But Tommy’s unfinished sentence rung in Tubbo’s ears still, drumming up catastrophic scenarios.
Tommy had got what? Hurt? Stabbed? Shot? He didn’t seem wounded. Bullied? No, that was stupid.
Did he see something he shouldn’t have?
There was a final option Tubbo didn’t want to consider. But he had to.
Did Tommy get kidnapped?
If he did, how did he escape? Sure, if he’d been chattering nonstop he might have annoyed his captors into letting him go.
But Tubbo knew who they’d been tracking. He knew that the Syndicate wouldn’t get annoyed into letting someone go.
The second mystery was Tommy’s wings. They’d been preened, and properly. Did his kidnappers preen his wings? Why? Were they planning on selling his wings? Keeping him as some sick trophy?
Tubbo put his face in his hands, trying to swallow back the stinging in his nose and eyes.
He knew he was overthinking. He knew. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t help himself because it could be true. So maybe he wasn’t really overthinking.
There was a light touch on Tubbo’s wings and he let out a soft breath, almost shuddering at the reminder of his own existence.
“What are you doing?” He asked of Ranboo, whose hand felt like snowflakes where it slipped to rest between his wings, directly on his back.
“I know you’re worrying,” Ranboo said quietly. “You don’t need to.”
“Of course I need to,” Tubbo snapped back. “Something horrible happened to Tommy and he won’t say what, but he’s acting completely unlike himself and he’s being weird. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe he just wants space,” Ranboo suggested. “It doesn’t mean something bad happened.”
“Ranboo, Tommy never wants space. Something really bad happened, and I just- I can’t figure out what!” Tubbo pressed his elbows to the counter, curved above the top. “What if he got kidnapped? What if the Syndicate snatched him and are trying to make sure he never leaves them again?” Unseen to Tubbo, Ranboo stiffened again. Tubbo sighed, softly. “I don’t care how much Tommy tries to pretend he’s not, but he’s an avian. His feathers would go for tons on the black market. If the Syndicate were able to keep him in-” He practically gagged on the words- “in good condition, they’d make a fortune.”
Ranboo said nothing. That didn’t stop Tubbo from continuing to ramble, the words spilling and overflowing from him like a baking soda volcano.
“And why him? He’s already been through shit- his dad dying, his mom never being around, you name it. And now this happens.” Tubbo shook his head, fingers twining and pulling in his hair. “It should’ve been me. I’m the one who talked him into this, and- and I’m fae. Forget avian feathers, if the Syndicate got ahold of me they could make billions ransoming me from my dad or just plain auctioning me off.”
“Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Ranboo tried suggesting.
“But I can’t help thinking someone’s got it in for him,” Tubbo insisted back. Then he sighed raggedly, pressing his palms harder into his eyes so inkblots of magenta and yellow flashed behind his eyelids. “I have to help him. But I can’t if he won’t talk to me.”
“Be patient-”
“All I am is patient!” Tubbo slammed his hands down on the counter, relishing the sting. “I’m sick of waiting for people to pay attention to me! I’m sick of waiting for Tommy to pull his head out of his ass and actually let me help him! I’m about to snap, I’m-” Tubbo let out a huff through his nose. “He’s an idiot. He’s the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met.”
“But you care about him,” Ranboo said softly. His voice was right behind Tubbo, close enough to ruffle hair.
“And I’ll worry myself sick every time,” Tubbo finished thickly, hoping Ranboo wouldn’t notice the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t- I can’t help it. He’s my best- he’s my only friend, a-and I don’t want to lose him.”
When Ranboo spoke again, his voice was soft.
“Are you okay?”
Tubbo shook his head slightly, because he didn’t want to answer and he didn’t trust his voice.
“Hey, hey. C’mere, it’s okay.” Ranboo moved closer, leaned up against the counter so he could face Tubbo and gingerly wipe away tears with the edge of his sleeve. “It won’t be that bad. It won’t be that bad.”
Tubbo let his head fall down. He didn’t believe it- the reassurances Ranboo was trying to give him.
“I know you don’t believe me,” Ranboo said, because he knew Tubbo better than Tubbo himself did, apparently. “But I’ve got a hunch, and my hunches haven’t been wrong yet.”
Tubbo chuckled wetly.
“You’re so stupid.” But he leaned forward, head resting against Ranboo’s shoulder as he drank in the one person that would give him positive attention right now.
He smelled like oranges.