Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur waits as silently as he can. His breaths are light and his pulse is quick. He's far too old to be pretending, but if he imagines himself as a spy, something he sometimes saw in the human movies, he can turn his fear into excitement. 

He presses himself deeper into the darkness of the bookshelf as footsteps shake the ground and a large shadow passes by him. His wings twitch automatically at the threat, but he pushes down the instinct to spread them. As he catches a glance of a foot passing by, well over twice his size, he thinks that maybe just a little bit of fear is healthy. 

Borrowers like Wilbur can't afford to be relaxed. Maybe if things were different, they wouldn't have to be so scared all the time. But the world isn't built for 4 inch tall people, so they do the best they can. When being caught could mean death or worse, that means everything they do must be done with extreme caution. 

What Wilbur's about to do now isn't very cautious. His family had never been the most conventional by borrower standards. They took more risks than most, and Wilbur was the worst of the three of them. 

In his defense, it had yielded incredible results. His ambition had gained them advantages that most borrowers would likely never experience, simply because it was too dangerous. 

It wasn't like Wilbur wasn't careful. He wasn't running out in the open, directly in the sight line of humans for fuck's sake. He watched and waited patiently, just like all borrowers, and took opportunities when he saw them. His family wasn't exactly thrilled with him risking himself, but when it gained them resources like an entire bag of popsicle sticks, they couldn't really come up with good enough reasons for him to be more careful besides that they worried about him. 

Wilbur didn't expect to get something that rare again, and definitely not today. That had been a one in a million opportunity. Tommy and Tubbo, the two humans that didn't technically live here, but were in the house often enough that they might as well move in, had brought supplies for a school project and had dumped them on the ground in a chaotic pile. It was just incredible luck that Wilbur had managed to swipe the second bag of the sticks without it being noticeable. 

Today, there was no school project. Today, they had just thrown their backpacks in the living room and sprawled on the couches. There might be something there that his family can use. Maybe a loose sheet of paper. Something like hand sanitizer would be fantastic. If the boys would just leave. Usually they got hungry right about this time. They'd go into the kitchen and get a snack any second now, which would be Wilbur's time to strike. 

"Technoooooo," a whine came from one of them. Wilbur was pretty sure it was the one named Tommy. Finally. 

"What, gremlin," Technoblade, the only human that actually lived in the house, called from another room. 

"We're hungry!" Tommy yelled back. 

"Yeah! Feed us Technoblade! We require sustenance," The other one, Tubbo, agreed. 

"Well I'm making a sandwich... for myself. If you want food get it on your own," came Techno's deadpan response. The boys groaned in unison, and then they were up, pushing each other in a mad scramble to get to the kitchen first. 

The heavy footsteps shook the entire bookshelf Wilbur was hidden on, and he had to take a moment to balance himself. He took another to calm his racing heart. God, they were terrifying. He sometimes forgot when he was just listening to their conversations. He let the friendly banter put him at ease, only to be reminded every time of just how dangerous they were. Wilbur shook his head, putting the uneasiness to the side for the moment. He didn't need to be distracted right now. 

He jogged to the edge of the bookshelf and peered out, double checking that the teenagers were really gone. He allowed himself a little sigh of relief, then turned his focus to getting down safely. 

With his wings, Wilbur had a very obvious advantage to many other borrowers, including his little brother. The wings didn't let him fly, of course, borrowers weren't built for the air. But they did give him enough control to glide smoothly to the floor and land with a little flutter. As long as he was careful, falling to his death would never be an issue for him.

Wilbur landed about a foot away from the couch, right next to the backpacks. The first thing he wanted to look for was anything that had actually fallen out onto the ground. Those would be the easiest to get, as Wilbur wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of crawling into a backpack. 

One of the backpacks was unzipped, which made Wilbur's job much easier. A beat up binder, a couple of books, and some slightly crumpled pieces of paper were halfway out of the bag. A little further, something shiny had completely fallen out. Wilbur thought it might be a mint tin. 

"Shit, wait I forgot my phone on the couch, just a sec!" Footsteps, coming towards the living room at far too quick a speed. 

Wilbur froze for a fraction of a second. Then he realized freezing would get him killed, and he launched himself towards the couch, the few inches feeling like feet. He banged his arm on something in his hurry, and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. A second later, a pair of feet, each one as big as an entire room in his house stopped in front of the couch. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, belatedly realizing that it was Tubbo who had forgotten his phone. He'd forget his own head if it wasn't attached to him. The thought was such a contrast to the panic of the rest of his mind that he almost laughed. 

Then, just as quickly as he had arrived, Tubbo was gone. Wilbur slumped, heart slowly getting back to a more reasonable speed. He felt shaky after the scare, and could only lean against the couch framing for a couple of minutes. 

Once he had calmed down and waited to make sure there wasn't another surprise human, Wilbur looked out at the mint tin. He would really much rather stay under the couch where it's safe until the two chaos gremlins left, but… well if he gave up now, all of this would be for nothing. 

So, legs trembling like he'd just taken a dip in icy water, Wilbur crept out from under the couch. His eyes were glued to the entrance to the room, but he didn't hear any sudden movement. 

While he still could, Wilbur grabbed the mint tin and dragged it under the couch. He sighed, tension seeping out of him, when nothing happened. 

Wilbur put the tin as far away from the edges of the couch as possible, and exited the couch from the slightly safer back side. He left the tin to retrieve when it wasn't the middle of the day when the humans were active. 

He did not need to risk getting caught while trying to haul a mint tin barely smaller than he was. He'd had enough excitement for one day. 

Chapter Text

The house was blessedly silent. It was always very nice waking up to a house empty save for one sleeping human. 

Not that Ranboo minded the chaos that Tommy and Tubbo brought whenever they came to bother Technoblade. He actually enjoyed listening to the banter, he just… preferred to do it from a distance. 

Unlike Wilbur, Ranboo didn't ever plan to get close enough to see any of the humans, let alone close enough to actually be in danger. No, he much preferred to go supply hunting at sensible hours for a borrower, like 3am. 

Even if he wanted to go for riskier supplies, he doubted Phil would let him. The only reason Wilbur was allowed to risk himself was because he was actually an adult, and a very skilled borrower. Ranboo was still a teenager, and had a spotty memory that only got worse when he was stressed. In addition, he lacked the wings Phil and Wilbur had that allowed them to glide to safety instead of falling. No, Ranboo probably wouldn't ever be doing dangerous stunts like Wilbur. 

"Hey, help me with this door," Phil called. Ranboo blinked as he remembered what they were supposed to be doing. He scurried forward, helping Phil pry open one of their entrances into the rest of the house. This was the door that stuck a lot. 

"This would probably be easier with three people," Ranboo said, tail flicking in amusement. Phil snorted. 

"If only someone hadn't gone off on his own for a fucking tin of mints," he replied with a grin. Suddenly, the door gave way, and they both stumbled, Phil letting out a startled laugh. 

"What even is a mint tin?" Ranboo asked, lowering his voice as they slipped out of the walls onto the kitchen counter. Phil was silent for a moment as he glanced around the area, checking for threats. Once he deemed it safe enough, he turned to Ranboo, also dropping to a whisper.

"It's exactly what it sounds like. It's a tin, a little box, full of mints." Phil began walking along the wall of the counter, using the dishes and appliances as cover. The way he moved was hard to copy, as it was almost instinctual, but Ranboo did his best to follow. He huffed at Phil's words. The explanation somehow made him more confused. 

"But why? Don't humans keep their mint in teabags? The ones you like to get?" He nearly ran into Phil as the man stopped suddenly. He turned, leading them out into the open briefly to avoid a pesky spider that had taken up residence behind the coffee maker. He didn't think humans realized just how many spiders lurked in hidden corners of houses, making life difficult for borrowers. 

"Mate, it's not the same thing as mint tea," Phil laughed, continuing the conversation once they'd changed course. Ranboo’s tail twitched, and he made an exasperated noise. 

"Then why is it called mint? Huh, Phil? If it isn't the same thing, what is it?" Phil was wheezing at his confusion, and had trouble answering. 

"I dunno mate, humans are fucking weird! These mints are like… hard, sort of like candy? You'll see when Will brings them back." 

Ranboo reined in his exasperation at weird human naming conventions. Phil was edging closer to the edge of the counter, which meant the time for banter was coming to a close. 

Ranboo's job was to be the lookout while Phil grabbed what they needed from a drawer. It wasn't exactly hard to get in and out of the drawers, but while you were in one, you were both cornered and conspicuous. A lookout was a good idea in case Techno wandered into the kitchen at three am for whatever reason. Phil wasn't about to let Ranboo risk getting "shut in a drawer if shit goes down" as he put it, so Ranboo was the official lookout. 

He kept an eye on the opening to the kitchen, but watched Phil as he stepped to the very edge of the counter. Phil pulled the popsicle stick he'd brought- they really were so useful- off his back, and shoved it down between the drawer and the counter. He wedged it as far down as it would go, then braced himself and pulled with all his might. The drawer rolled open, and Ranboo whispered "woo!" to celebrate. 

Phil grinned at him and mouthed 'thanks mate.' He set the popsicle stick on the counter, and leaped into the open drawer. He spread his wings as he fell, and Ranboo didn't even hear him land. 

The first drawer was the one with all the foil, cling wrap, and plastic bags inside. They didn't really need cling wrap, and the bags were too big for a simple quick trip like this was supposed to be. What they really needed was foil. Foil was extremely useful for a borrower to have.

It wasn't like plates or silverware was mass-produced at their size, and it was a rare borrower who had the skill to carve something out of wood. Phil had a single wooden spoon that had apparently been passed down for a couple generations. They didn't really use it, it was more of a memento- and besides, it was kind of dusty after so many years. 

If they wanted to use any type of dishes or utensils, they had to make them by themselves. Foil was the easiest way to do that. It was fairly simple to shape, and could be torn apart and transported easily. 

The only problem was, they ran out pretty quickly. Foil was only good for a few uses. It didn't wash very well, so it had to be thrown away or just repurposed once it started losing its shape. So foil was a regular stop for borrowing trips. 

Ranboo heard a few muffled curses from Phil and bit back his laughter. He knew from the couple of times Phil had brought him down to the drawers to teach him how to get the foil, Wilbur acting as the lookout, that it was hell trying to tear pieces off. Luckily, the humans had just as much trouble as they did, so if there were weird chunks missing, nobody noticed. 

After several minutes of what was likely painstaking work of tearing, folding, and shoving in a bag, Phil popped his head up. Ranboo expected him to climb back onto the counter, but instead Phil grinned. He had that look in his eye that usually meant he was going to do something risky, and a little bit stupid, but fun. Well. Fun for him at least. 

"Open the other drawer, Ranboo!" He called, keeping his voice low. Ranboo sighed, but did as instructed, dragging the popsicle stick over. It took him a couple of tries to actually open the drawer. 

Once it was open, he looked back at Phil, his heart skipping a beat when he saw his dad balancing on the tiny ledge that was the side of the drawer. Logically, he knew precarious heights weren't actually dangerous for Phil and Wilbur, but they were for him. He couldn't help the instinctual jolt of panic when he saw one of them on a high ledge. 

Phil crouched, wound tight as a spring. His wings rose high above his head. Ranboo watched with anticipation. Suddenly, Phil leaped, wings coming down powerfully to launch the borrower even higher into the air. He launched himself expertly over the foot long gap, spreading his wings to glide when he stopped rising in the air. 

Phil landed on the side of the other drawer with perfect, practiced precision. He even gave Ranboo a tiny bow when he noticed him watching. Ranboo clapped, making sure his hands didn't actually make the noise, just the motion.

God, Phil was so cool. Even if he sometimes gave Ranboo a heart attack. 

"Only one problem, Phil," Ranboo whispered. Phil, in the middle of grabbing the small tube of glue they needed, looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, and Ranboo continued. 

"How are we gonna close it?" 

Chapter Text

Phil took them the quick but slightly riskier way home, taking the path through the walls that briefly required going into the main area of the house. They only took that path when Techno was asleep. In the middle of the night, with plenty of coverage from the furniture, it was very unlikely they'd be in danger of being noticed. 

They passed a laundry basket, and Ranboo marveled at how massive the clothes were compared to them. He kind of wanted to reach out and touch the soft-looking fabrics poking out of the basket, but he refrained, knowing he would want to keep whatever he touched if he found a texture he liked.

But when he saw a lone sock that had fallen out of the basket, his tail began to wave happily. Completely forgetting for a second what they were doing, he wandered over towards the sock. 

An interesting thing about Technoblade was his taste in socks. The rest of his clothes were nice, but tastefully plain. He had a few t-shirts with fun designs but those were mostly worn around the house. The human dressed fairly practically whenever he left the house. 

His socks, however, ranged anywhere from plain white or black to looking like they'd been attacked by crayons. Ranboo had even seen a pair that had adorable pictures of kittens on them once. 

The one thing all his socks had in common was how soft they were. Some were fluffy, some were just normal, but all of them were nice textures that made Ranboo want them. He assumed the texture had a similar draw to the human. 

Ranboo didn't think he'd seen this particular sock before. It was a very pleasant shade of purple, and longer than some of the others. It wasn't fluffy, but that didn't fool him into thinking it wasn't soft. Sure enough, when Ranboo ran his hand over the material, it felt smooth and nice beneath his fingers. He made one of the tiny warbling noises that slipped out when he was especially happy. (His dad and brother called it purring, but he did not purr.) 

He'd gone as far as clutching the sock to his chest and pressing his face into it- it smelled vaguely floral, like all clothes did when they were washed- when he heard Phil clear his throat. 

Ranboo flushed, remembering that they had been heading home. Phil looked hopelessly amused as Ranboo pulled his face away from the sock, trying to maintain some small amount of dignity. 

"You taking another one home, mate?" He teased. Ranboo hesitated. He probably shouldn't. It was a new sock after all, and Techno might actually notice it missing. What if he hadn't even had a chance to wear it yet? But on the other hand, it was such a nice texture, and none of them had any clothes in purple yet…

"I'm taking it," Ranboo admitted, beginning to fold the sock as small as he could. Phil laughed at him, but once they started walking again, he pulled him into a side hug. A few feathers flew into his face as Phil also wrapped a wing around him to complete the hug. 

"Phil," Ranboo protested, although his voice was slightly muffled by the feathers. Apparently his dad wasn't content for Ranboo to just embarrass himself, because he pressed a kiss into the side of his temple. 

"Philll," Ranboo said, dangerously close to whining. He just knew his face was red again. Phil let him go, seeming content now that he'd given his son even more embarrassment. 

By the time they reached the opening to take them back inside the walls, Ranboo's embarrassment had faded somewhat. But they were heading home, and Wilbur should be back by now, so Ranboo was already bracing himself for another round of teasing. 

They reached their home, and Phil held the door open for Ranboo, who had his hands full. The glue was tucked under his dad's arm, so he had some difficulty, but at least Phil had a hand free. 

As expected, Wilbur was already there, sitting on a large, shiny box he'd dragged into their home. That had to be the mint tin- why he put it in the middle of the walkway, completely blocking the door, Ranboo had no idea. Wilbur spotted him instantly, and a smirk spread across his face. Ranboo sighed, knowing what was coming. 

"I see the sock thief strikes again!" Wilbur crowed. Phil pushed inside behind Ranboo, probably wondering why he was still lingering in the doorway. They stood crowded together just inside the door, unable to go any farther because of Wilbur's newest find. 

"Phil, where have we gone wrong?" Wilbur cried dramatically, casting their dad a look of despair. "My brother is a dastardly criminal!" 

"Ah yes, the grave crime of stealing a sock," Ranboo said dryly. Wilbur shook his head slowly.

"Not just a sock, Ranboo! It's your what, twenty-eighth sock? This is a case of serial theft!" He claimed, pointing a finger at Ranboo. 

"I knew I shouldn't have let him watch that fucking crime show," Phil muttered, too quietly for Wil to hear. Ranboo had to suppress his amusement- he couldn't laugh while being accused! 

"Only four of those were this past year," he pointed out. 

"Two were this month," his brother countered. 

"Yes, well, the year before that was six," Ranboo said, trying to maintain his position. He could tell he was losing ground. And next to him, although amused with the conversation, Phil was losing patience. They had been standing in the very entrance of the house for a while now. There was probably a time limit on this particular debate. 

"Seven, actually. You're probably forgetting about the pair again," Wilbur corrected. 

"Oh no, what a surprise, Ranboo forgetting something," Ranboo said with a small eye roll. His lips were twitching from holding back a grin. His tail betrayed his amusement, but Wilbur would pretend not to see it when they were 'arguing' like this. 

"And you can't use that argument anyways," Wilbur continued, ignoring Ranboo's sarcasm, "because this year isn't over yet. You might steal five more socks before the year is over, who knows?" 

"Hey, you can't count stuff that hasn't happened yet!" Ranboo protested. 

"Yet? So you admit it! It's premeditated!" Wilbur said victoriously. Ranboo huffed. 

"You can't count stuff that's only a hypothetical," he corrected himself. 

"And you can't claim that four is a low number for only part of a year. And two in a month- your timeline is accelerating you evil bastard!" 

"Well I've been borrowing socks for six years. I think 28 spread out over six isn't that bad," Ranboo said. 

"Lies!" Wilbur cried theatrically. "You only started your sock thievery four years ago! 28 socks in only four years! That's at least one every other month. But now it's two in one month! You're fucking accelerating!" 

Uh oh, Wilbur had him there. Phil let out an exasperated sigh, which meant he was almost out of time. If he didn't want to lose this battle, he'd need to employ some creative strategies. 

"Ah, but how do you know I wasn't an even worse sock thief in the past? Maybe all these years I've been de celerating and this month was just a fluke!" He said. Ha! Wilbur's mouth had briefly quirked up into a smile. That was at least worth a point. Except they didn't keep score so it was more of just an imaginary Ranboo point. 

"I doubt you were stealing socks before we met you," Wilbur said skeptically. 

"And how would you know?" Ranboo challenged. "I certainly don't." 

Wilbur looked a little offended that he was pulling the memory card. Ranboo was just glad that he could joke about his missing memories without the mood getting tense and uncomfortable. It had taken ages for his family to stop going quiet whenever he so much as mentioned his memory problems. Honestly, he was the one who was the amnesiac. 

Ranboo didn't really mind that over half his life was a completely blank slate in his mind. He probably should but… he couldn't miss what he never had, right? And besides, he had Phil and Wilbur, and had for almost as long as he remembered. That was what mattered to him. 

"Didn't you just say we weren't using hypotheticals?" Wilbur asked with a suspicious glare.

"Hm," Ranboo said blandly, though he let his smugness show on his face. "Looks like I don't remember." 

"Well somebody better remember to move this fucking tin out of the way before I decide to sleep on the couch," Phil said dryly. "And I'll take all our blankets with me." 

Yes! Wilbur may have had the upper hand for most of the debate, but Ranboo had gotten the last word before Phil intervened. That was pretty powerful. 

"You couldn't even make it up to the couch with your old man bones," Wilbur taunted their dad, switching targets. That was a mistake; Phil never lost.

"Motherfucker," Phil said, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "Ranboo, hold my glue while I beat the shit out of your brother." 

Suddenly, there was a tube of glue balancing precariously on top of his sock. It was also unfortunately blocking his view as he heard Phil chasing Wilbur around the house, his brother shrieking in terror. He was almost knocked over as Wilbur leaped over his head, his wings fluttering and barely letting him clear the jump. He laughed.

Ranboo wouldn't trade this for anything.

Chapter Text

Their cozy home in the walls was quiet. Wilbur and Ranboo were still here, but Phil had gone out to get his monthly teabag. While he was gone, he'd given them the task of sharpening their hook. Wilbur thought it was a pretty important task, seeing as that was one of their most valuable tools. 

The hook was both their primary weapon and their only climbing tool. It was made from an old borrowed fishing hook and a few strands of sewing thread braided into a sturdy rope. The fishing hook had been borrowed before he and Phil had even found Ranboo, years before Techno had moved in. The people who'd owned fishing gear were long gone, and Techno sure as hell didn't have any. If they broke the hook, there was no replacing it, which meant they had to take careful care of it, including sharpening it when it got dull. 

They had only ever had to use the hook as a weapon once. It was once again before Ranboo, back when the family who used to live here had a dog. Phil had been so worried they would have to move, he told Wilbur years later. Dogs, or any pets really, were bad news. But it was an outdoor dog, at least it was supposed to be. That was the only reason they hadn't moved right away. 

Unknown to them, the family still let the dog inside occasionally. About a month after the dog appeared, Phil and Wilbur had been on a borrowing trip. Wilbur couldn't do very much, he was still a kid, but Phil took the time to teach him skills for when he was old enough help. It wasn't every trip, only the ones that were very safe. Or, in this case, the ones that were supposed to be safe. 

They'd been on the floor, still several feet away from the nearest tunnel, when there was a deep growl and then a bark. The sight of the dog barreling towards them, far faster than they could ever run, had haunted Wilbur's dreams for years. It was still probably the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen. 

Phil had shoved Wilbur behind him and spread his wings. He hadn't seen Phil swing the hook as the dog reached them. But he heard his dad yell, and he heard the dog's pitiful whimper as Phil slashed it's nose open. Phil had lifted Wilbur completely off his feet and sprinted towards the walls while the dog recovered. 

The humans seemed to think the dog had been poking around where it wasn't allowed and gotten hurt because of it. They kept the dog outside from then on. 

So yes, Wilbur thought the hook was the most important item they owned. Even more important than the popsicle sticks, his pride and joy. 

However. Sharpening the hook was just… so boring. It took several hours of endless scraping of the metal against the borrowed nail file. The curve and size of the hook made it that much more difficult. He just hated sitting for hours doing basically nothing. 

He wasn't even the one sharpening the damn thing! 

He and Ranboo were trading off every half hour until they were finished, the other working on their own project. When Ranboo was taking his break, he worked on his carving. Wilbur thought it was fantastic. Ranboo had taken one of the popsicle sticks back when Wilbur had first gotten them. He'd decided to carve designs into the wood with a little dagger he had that was made out of a snapped piece of plastic. (It also had to be sharpened, but Ranboo took care of that on his own since the knife was his. Wilbur preferred his needle that very rarely needed upkeep.) 

Ranboo had started on one end of the stick and had been slowly working his way down for a couple of years. He was about two thirds of the way through the first side, and the improvement was very easy to see. Carving could keep him occupied for hours these days, and Wilbur kind of wished he had a similar hobby. 

Instead, he had decided to start unraveling some fabric while he wasn't sharpening. Which was useful! It wasn't like he was doing something useless. Some of the fabrics they- usually Ranboo- borrowed were too thick to be used as they were. They needed to be broken down so they could be woven back into a form they could use. 

Stuff like the chunk of blanket Ranboo had chopped off and taken years ago because it was just so soft- and he hadn't brought that up last night because they were debating socks, but Wilbur was still never letting his little brother live that down- were very good material once they were unraveled. 

But Wilbur had already finished the small piece he'd been working on. Sure he could go get another one, but that would require cutting it up into a workable piece and they were so close to being done with the hook anyways. He wouldn't be able to finish unraveling his second piece of fabric and he hated leaving things like that unfinished. They just looked so messy and annoying. 

So here he was, somehow even more bored than his brother who was currently sharpening something. It seemed like the only thing more boring than sharpening was watching someone sharpen. He had to do something or he'd just perish right then from boredom. 

"Ranboo, come over here," he said. 

"Hmm?" Ranboo looked up at him, pausing briefly in his sharpening. 

"I'm bored, let me do your hair," he explained. Ranboo considered for a moment. 

"Yeah, ok," his brother said. "Just let me move the file so I can still work." 

They shifted, sliding Ranboo's stool- which was really just a repurposed spool, now empty of thread- so that it was right in front of Wilbur. Ranboo kept sharpening, but leaned back so Wilbur could reach his hair more easily. 

"Yuck, your hair is filthy," Wilbur complained, but he started to comb his fingers through it anyways. "Do you ever wash it?" Ranboo's tail thwacked him softly in the face. 

"Only one of us is allergic to water," Ranboo said. "So what's your excuse?" 

Wilbur tugged his tail lightly in response, getting a squawk of outrage. They bickered lightly for a while, neither of them with any real heat behind their words. When Wilbur finished getting the tangles out of his hair, he simply ran his fingers through the soft locks a couple of times. Ranboo started purring softly at the gentle sensation- and no matter how much his little brother insisted it wasn't a 'purr,' Wilbur knew what he heard. 

Wilbur eventually stopped playing with Ranboo's hair and started to actually braid it back. It was just barely long enough to be braided, and was so thin it had trouble staying in a braid. Phil's was a lot easier to work with, but Wilbur enjoyed the challenge. He wished his own hair was long enough to braid, but he absolutely loathed the feeling of hair against his neck, so his own was kept cut pretty short in the back. He preferred being able to see the designs he made when he braided hair anyways. 

Ranboos hair was very fun to braid because of the split colors. Wilbur liked playing with how much black or white hair he put into a certain strand. He didn't want to do anything too complicated right now though, so he was just doing a simple french braid on either side of Ranboo's head. He'd make them meet at the very end and braid them into each other. It sounded more complicated than it actually was, and Wilbur had gotten pretty good at this specific design after a few times. 

He was halfway done with the second braid when the door opened. They both turned to look. Ranboo's tail hit him in the face again, most likely by accident this time. 

"You're back early," Wilbur called. 

"Yeah," Phil said, sounding exhausted. Well that couldn't be good. 

Wilbur looked regretfully at the unfinished braid for a moment before letting the hair slip out of his fingers. The finished braid stayed in, but the second one unraveled as he let go. That was what his little brother got for having such fine hair. 

He stood to see why Phil sounded so damn tired. There was the soft thud of the hook being set down behind him, and then Ranboo was joining him. 

The first thing he noticed was the missing teabag. That was the whole reason Phil had gone out. He went on his own little trip every month, getting a teabag so he could use the herbs inside for the next month. It was usually mint, since that was the one Techno kept regularly stocked. Last month's teabag was completely gone, which meant something must have happened for Phil to come back empty-handed. 

"Are you ok, Phil?" Ranboo asked, sounding worried. His tail was twitching uncontrollably, and Wilbur sidestepped so he wouldn't get whacked for the third time today. 

"I'm fine, mate, just… tired," Phil said. He paused, then added, "And pissed." 

"What happened?" Wilbur asked. Phil sighed, bending down to remove his shoes. 

"There was a fucking spider completely blocking the tunnel. Fresh web and everything." 

Both of the brothers shuddered. Most spiders weren't very aggressive, but if you stumbled into their webs, they could be very unpleasant. A bite from most spiders was enough to incapacitate a borrower for a while, if not outright kill them. The ones that were actually "dangerous to humans" were basically instant death. Phil seemed to pick up on their unease. 

"It was only a little one," he reassured them, "small enough for me to run it through with Wil's needle- don't worry I already cleaned it off," he added when Wilbur made a disgusted sound. 

"It took me forever to get rid of the fucking web. I finally cleared it so I could at least fucking walk by. I turn the corner, and you know what I fucking see? " 

"No," Wilbur gasped, getting into the story now. 

"Another motherfucking web!" Phil says, voice rising in pitch. Wilbur and Ranboo make the appropriate dismayed noises. Phil lets them enjoy their dramatics for a few seconds. Then he leans forward, tone turning serious.

"That spider was fucking massive, boys, I don't want you going down that tunnel." Phil looked at both of them, waiting for a nod of agreement from each before he continued. "I could probably fight it if I really needed to but I'm not risking my life for a teabag. I just turned around and came straight home." 

"So the tea tunnel is out of commission?" Wilbur asked. Phil nodded decisively. 

"For the foreseeable future, yeah. I'll check back to see if it's died or left yet every few weeks, but we're gonna have to find a new way up to those shelves." 

"No tea for a little while I guess," Ranboo said. 

"Not for a couple of days, probably," Phil agreed. "So neither of you get nauseous, cause we're also out of mint to chew." 

There were a couple of soft chuckles, but the mood had been brought down by the complications and lack of tea. Wilbur hated how defeated Phil sounded. Phil was the most capable person he knew; he shouldn't sound so upset. 

Wilbur was old enough now to know that his dad wasn't infallible, but that just made him cooler in his eyes. Even though he didn't always know what to do, even though he sometimes made mistakes, he still kept going. He found a way to get around whatever obstacles there were, even if it was his own lack of knowledge. 

And now, one of the few luxuries they could indulge in was gone. They could survive without tea, especially for only a few days. But Wilbur still hated that Phil would have to give up that calm routine because of a stupid spider. 

A sneaky little idea lodged into his brain. Wilbur had promised not to go down the spider tunnel, and he absolutely wouldn't. However, Phil had said nothing about waiting and making sure they had a 100% reliable new way before making a borrowing trip for the teabag. 

Wilbur was already scouting out possibilities in his head. As far as he knew, there weren't any other scouted out routes to that opening. It was the only opening on that side of the kitchen, where the cabinets with tea, spices, and a few snacks were kept. If he took the hook, however, he could probably catch it on something . 

He could tell his family his plans but… he wanted to surprise them. They would go to sleep a little disappointed that there would be no tea in the morning, then wake up to find out that Wilbur had gotten it while they slept! 

Of course… it was risky. If he did it while Phil and Ranboo were sleeping, he'd be going out borrowing in the morning. They slept through the morning because that was when Techno was the most active. 

Sure, one could argue that it was more dangerous to be borrowing while there were three humans running around, but they tended to distract each other. Techno on his own was dangerously observant.

Wilbur doubted his plan for just a moment. There was a chance this could go very wrong. But Wilbur had been borrowing for years. He'd gotten some incredible things for his family that he knew most borrowers wouldn't ever consider because it was too risky. 

He would be careful. He'd leave without waking his family, and then he'd get as close as he could while staying in the walls. Then he'd wait until Techno was thoroughly distracted, probably by a book, and take the opportunity. If he heard any sign of the human, he'd hide.

Taking risks had let them all live safer, happier lives in the long run. What was one more?

Chapter Text

Wilbur didn't really get why humans had hangups about touch. He kind of got why they wouldn't want to be hugging or brushing up against a stranger, since they seemed to think of touch as a little more intimate than borrowers. But he didn't understand why they acted weird about touch with their own family. 

He was pretty sure physical contact was just as important for humans' mental health as it was for borrowers, especially as their babies could literally get sick and die if they weren't touched enough. So he really didn't get why human families didn't cuddle or play with each other's hair. Why they didn't hold each other's hands or pile into the same bed to sleep like his family did. 

Neither Phil or Ranboo understood it either, and they just had to chalk it up as humans once again just being fucking weird. In Wilbur's opinion, it was weird to not sleep in the same bed as the people you cared about. 

It probably made sneaking out easier, though. 

Getting out of bed without waking either of his family members was a bit of a struggle. It would've been harder if Ranboo hadn't ended up in the middle, therefore the only one curled under Phil's wings. However, Phil had a hand tangled in Wilbur's hair, and extricating himself from that involved a lot of minor hair pulling. Phil didn't stir as he set his hand back down on the bed, though; he was a very deep sleeper. 

Ranboo, however, was a little trickier. He wasn't grabbing onto Wilbur in his sleep, but he tended to burrow his face into the warmest surface in his sleep, and that happened to be Wilbur's chest. His tail was wrapped around Phil's wrist though, which was a relief. Wilbur wouldn't have been able to get up without waking him if the tail had curled around him. Ranboo was a much lighter sleeper than Phil, and any movement to his tail would wake him for sure. 

However, when he pulled away, Ranboo made a sleepy noise and shifted slightly. Wilbur froze, waiting for him to settle down. Ranboo didn't stir again, so he'd probably just reacted to the lack of warmth. He resisted the urge to run his hand through his little brother's hair. 

Wilbur crept quietly away, pushing silently past the patchy fabric curtain that separated their bedroom from the rest of the house. He pulled on a sweater over his sleeping shirt, and grabbed a bag. He very carefully lifted the hook from where it hung, wincing as the slight scraping sound seemed as loud as a shout to him. He listened, but he didn't hear anything that indicated he'd woken his family. 

He didn't bother with shoes. It wasn't like anyone made things like tennis shoes for borrowers, so they had to wrap their feet with a complicated mix of fabric, wood for support, and thread. It took forever, though, and this was only going to be a short trip. 

He walked barefoot out the door, heading through the walls. He went straight towards the kitchen where he'd find his surprise for Phil and Ranboo. 

***

Ranboo woke up when something in front of him shifted. He grumbled slightly, but didn't bother opening his eyes. He'd just fallen asleep, there was no way it was morning yet. He was barely awake anyways, so he just let himself start drifting back to sleep. 

A quiet shifting of fabric caught his attention before he fell asleep again. Was somebody moving? He realized Wilbur was no longer next to him and frowned. The strange absence was enough for his mind to wake up, and he almost groaned, knowing it would be harder to get back to sleep now that he was actually awake. 

Suddenly he heard a scraping noise from outside the curtain. What the heck? What was Wilbur doing out there? His tail flicked in confusion, slipping off of Phil's wrist. There were no other sounds for a couple of minutes, and Ranboo almost just tried to sleep again, but then he heard the door open. 

He sat up, suddenly wide awake. Phil's wing fluttered a little as he slipped out from under it, but his dad didn't wake. Ranboo tiptoed towards the curtain, not sure if he was sneaking so he didn't wake Phil or so Wilbur didn't realize he was there. 

He peered past the curtains, finding- an empty house. He pushed through the divider, silently checking all corners of the house, just in case. Maybe Wilbur had just gone to wash himself off or something? There wasn't much reason to leave the house in the middle of the night… day technically, since they slept right when Techno was waking up. 

Ranboo froze. The hook was missing from its place on the wall. His heart pounded too hard in his chest. 

There was absolutely no reason to bring the hook somewhere, unless you were borrowing. Doing that right now would be so stupidly dangerous. 

He grit his teeth. Wilbur wasn't just gone to someplace inside the walls. He was out borrowing. 

Ranboo was going to kill his brother. 

***

Wilbur was sort of regretting not wearing shoes. His feet were cold, and he kept stepping on the poky bits of the passageway's floors. Whatever, as long as he didn't get a splinter, he could deal with it. 

Most of their tunnels went directly through the walls, using the support beams. Since they were wooden, there was always the risk of splintering, but that wasn't the most difficult part of walking through the walls. 

The horizontal beams were less frequent and less consistent than the vertical ones. In addition, every foot or so, the path of the horizontal bar was blocked by a vertical one. Occasionally the horizontal bars weren't even parallel. Sometimes they were interrupted by a doorway. 

There were ways around these problems, of course. Sometimes they made a tunnel going through the floorboards instead of the walls. When there were doorways, they could climb up and over the space. And for the interruptions in the horizontal bars, things like bridges, stairs and platforms had been built. 

These structures used to be a lot less sturdy. Back when it had just been Wilbur and Phil, falling off one of these wouldn't be a very big deal. Even as a kid, Wilbur could just spread his wings and slow his fall enough to avoid injuries. But when they'd found Ranboo, Phil had started reinforcing the bridges and platforms. Wilbur called it baby-proofing. 

Even once they were fixed, neither of them would let Ranboo walk around the walls without supervision, just in case. He was old enough now to be careful, but Wilbur and Phil had been so scared he would fall and hurt himself.

These handmade platforms were the most unpleasant to walk on with bare feet. They'd been made from whatever they could find, back before the great popsicle theft. They'd since been reinforced again with the better wood in some places, but they were mostly made of a patchwork of borrowed materials. 

Wilbur stepped on a particularly uncomfortable part and winced. He kept going though. He'd almost reached the entrance into the rest of the house; he would be fine. 

As he walked, his hand drifted up to the hook. Personally, he didn't use it very often. He wasn't a fan of climbing, but that was a key part of his plan. 

The problem with the hook was that there was only so far you could throw it. The three Watsons had perfected their technique, but if they were on the floor they came up just short of the counter. It was just too far to throw. 

If they could just use the hook to access the tea cabinet, Wilbur's plan would be unnecessary. They could just use one of the tunnels that came out on the floor and go from there. Since that wasn't possible, Wilbur had to think outside the box a little. 

There were only two entrances in the kitchen that put them on the counters. One was the one that was currently blocked by the mother of all spiders. The other was the passageway Phil and Ranboo had used the other day to get foil and glue. The two cabinets weren't connected, but Wilbur had an idea of what he could do to overcome that. 

First… he had to get through the door. 

He pushed hard on the entrance to the counter, but it didn't budge. He knew it got stuck, but this was ridiculous! He shoved hard, putting his weight into it, and it moved just slightly. 

"Wilbur." 

He jumped, whirling around to where the voice had come from. Ranboo was standing behind him, looking more upset than he'd seen him in a while. His arms were crossed and he was glaring, but Wilbur recognized the way his tail was twitching as worry. He winced. 

"Ranboo, what the fuck are you doing up?" He asked quietly. 

"I could ask you the same question, you know. I woke up and you were just gone, " Ranboo said with a frown . "Are you seriously borrowing? Now?" 

"It's fine, I'm going to be really careful," Wilbur reassured. He stepped forward and ruffled Ranboo's hair. The teen relaxed just a little, but still seemed pissed at him. 

"I thought of a way to get the tea," Wilbur admitted. Ranboo tilted his head, some of the annoyance leaving his expression. "I was going to surprise both of you, but I guess it'll just be Phil." 

"You're still going out there?" Ranboo asked, voice raising slightly. "Can't this wait until Techno isn't awake and active?" 

"I guess it could," Wilbur said, "but think of how excited Phil will be when he wakes up to find a fresh teabag. He was so tired when he came back, I just wanted to do something nice."

Ranboo was silent for a long moment. He was pursing his lips the way he did when he thought about something carefully. Finally he focused back on Wilbur. 

"You're so lucky I didn't wake Phil up," he said, sounding resigned. Wilbur grinned. 

“You’re the best little brother,” he cooed. Ranboo looked unimpressed.

“You have to let me come with you, though,” the younger borrower said, sounding only a little hesitant. 

“Are you sure?” Wilbur asked, worry making his brow furrow. “You know Technoblade is probably walking around, right? Will you be ok if we see him up close?” 

Wilbur wasn’t trying to baby him, but Ranboo got anxious seeing the humans from rooms away. He’d never had a truly close call, and Wilbur didn’t want to take him into a situation where he might have to. 

“I’m sure,” Ranboo said with only a hint of nervousness. “I won’t be able to go home and sleep knowing you’re out here.”

“Alright,” Wilbur said. He fought back nerves of his own. Risking himself was one thing, but his little brother? He’d just have to be extra careful. Besides, he trusted Ranboo to know what he could handle. 

With Ranboo's help, he managed to shove the door open. He squinted as light flooded the tunnels. Ranboo shrank back slightly. Wilbur forgot that his brother rarely went outside the walls when the sun was up. 

He reached over and squeezed Ranboo's shoulder. The younger borrower relaxed, peering out of the walls with curiosity. 

"It's so bright," he said in a hushed whisper. 

Wilbur glanced around. Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the overhead lights weren't actually on. 

"It gets even brighter if the lights are turned on," he whispered back. Ranboo shook his head. 

"Nope, too bright," he declared, making Wilbur laugh softly. 

The kitchen was empty for now, so they crept forward until they were at the edge of the counter. Ranboo kept looking around anxiously. Wilbur tried not to let his own nerves show, but he was far more worried about the possibility of Techno showing up than usual. How did Phil manage to borrow while watching out for someone else? 

“So how exactly are we getting over there?” Ranboo quietly asked. 

“We may not be able to reach those cabinets,” Wilbur started, pointing across the room. He paused, grinning at the way Ranboo leaned forward in anticipation. Then, moving his finger to point directly above their heads, he continued, “But we can climb up to these.” 

He spread his wings, giving them a little flutter. Ranboo’s eyes went wide and he glanced between Wilbur and the cabinet. 

“We’re going to glide?” he asked, his voice rising slightly in excitement. 

“We’re going to glide,” Wilbur confirmed with a grin. 

***

Chapter Text

Climbing up to the cabinets was child’s play. They were borrowers; climbing was in their blood. Even Ranboo, who rarely went borrowing, could climb a rope with one hand behind his back. The real difficult part, Wilbur knew, was getting the hook to stick once he threw it. 

Cabinets were especially difficult. Because of the doors, they required a skill and precision that was difficult to master. Phil was far more talented than Wilbur at this part. Still, Wil was no slouch. It only took him a few tries to lodge the hook in a way that it wouldn’t fall. 

Before they started climbing, Wilbur listened carefully for any sign of Techno. They’d gotten pretty lucky so far, but this was the riskiest part. If the human walked in while they were climbing, there was no way for them to hide. 

To his relief, Wilbur couldn’t hear Techno at all. That meant he was either still sleeping- unlikely, he was a morning person- or reading. With any luck, the latter would keep him distracted until they were done with their teabag mission. 

Wilbur waved Ranboo up the rope first, then followed after him. They slipped into the cabinet, keeping the door open just enough so they could fit. Wilbur picked the hook back up and pulled the rope up. He wound it up, not bothering to be neat since they would use it again in just a minute, then handed it to his brother. 

Ranboo watched him, practically bouncing, as he slowly spread his wings. Wilbur carefully studied the distance from here to the counter on the other side of the kitchen. He gave an experimental flap of his wings. It would be harder while carrying someone, but he was high enough that he could make the jump. 

“Ready?” he asked Ranboo, who nodded so hard his head looked in danger of coming off. 

Wilbur gave him a fond smile. He hadn’t glided with Ranboo in a few years. They didn’t borrow together as often, so the chance never came up. He hadn’t realized how much he missed having company while borrowing; maybe he could stop going on his own so often. 

He stepped to the edge of the cabinet, wrapping his arms around his little brother’s torso. Before he jumped off, he lifted Ranboo experimentally, double checking that he could handle the weight. Yep, his little brother was still as light as a feather. 

With no warning, Wilbur leaped off the edge. 

Ranboo let out an amusing squeak that Wilbur would absolutely bully him for later. They hadn’t even been in freefall for more than a second; Wilbur’s wings were already spread to turn the fall into a glide. 

They soared towards the counter. His brother was making tiny ‘woo!’ noises that told WIlbur how much he wanted to shout in excitement. Maybe they could go gliding for fun on a night when Techno wasn’t home so Ranboo could shout all he wanted. 

The glide was a little steeper than Wilbur liked, but he still made it to the counter with room to spare. The landing was a little awkward; Ranboo was taller than him so his legs hit first. When Wilbur touched down, he knocked into him, making his little brother topple like a stack of dominoes. 

“Oops,” Wilbur said, offering a hand to help him up.

They located the tea cabinet, and repeated the process of climbing up. There was still no sign of Techno, which actually made Wilbur more nervous. He’d prefer it if Techno came into the kitchen while they were in a position to hide. This felt like they were pushing their luck. 

Once they were in the cabinet, Wilbur stopped short. It had been so long since he’d joined Phil on the sacred journey for tea that he didn’t remember what the box looked like. A glance to Ranboo told him his brother was as lost as he was. 

Well, Wilbur thought with a sigh, trial and error it was. 

“If we’re going to be in here for a while, we should have the hook ready for a quick escape,” Wilbur said, taking back the rope that he had just wound up. 

“Why?” Ranboo asked, tilting his head. “Wouldn’t it be quicker to glide down?” 

Wilbur shook his hand in a so-so motion. He carefully wedged the hook between the wall of the cabinet and a heavy looking box. It should be enough to hold their weight, but would be easier to quickly yank free if they were running. As he worked, he explained his reasoning. 

“The only reason we’d need to run is if Techno came in and started opening the cabinets. Gliding is too slow, and would draw too much attention. We could hide, but if he looked in here we’d be cornered. It’s better to go down the rope and risk being seen but still have a chance at escaping.” 

“Better to slide than hide,” Ranboo summarized, nodding. Wilbur snorted. 

“Better to slide than hide,” he echoed. 

With those words of wisdom, they began the hunt for the tea. 

From what Wilbur could remember, the teabags came in a fairly small box. Well, compared to humans, at least; even the smallest boxes in the cabinet were bigger than their bed. They searched these containers first, opening each one to check its contents. 

It turned into a bit of a game. Wilbur and Ranboo each picked a box, trying to find the strangest items- and also the tea. Most of the containers held stuff neither of them recognized. Trying to guess what each object was for became another fun game. 

When things went south, neither of them expected it. 

Wilbur wasn’t sure who did it. They weren’t paying attention to who moved which box, and they didn’t notice the way another, much bigger one was leaning dangerously to one size. All Wilbur knew was that the box was coming down and Ranboo was right beneath it. 

He acted before he even fully realized what was happening. In one swift motion, he lurched forward, grabbed his brother’s arm, and yanked him backwards. Ranboo stumbled to a stop behind him, but the momentum threw Wilbur off. He fell on his ass, getting the wind knocked out of him. 

The only warning he had was Ranboo’s shout of alarm, then the box landed on his foot. 

Searing, red hot pain. Wilbur bit his tongue so hard he tasted iron, and he knew it was the only thing that kept him from screaming. For several seconds that dragged on forever, the pain was so intense it was the only thing on his mind. Eventually it faded into a deep ache, the pain pulsing with every heartbeat. 

Wilbur took a deep, shaky breath and dared to look. From the middle of his shin down, his leg had been pinned. He couldn’t see it, but he had a feeling his foot was not supposed to be bent like that. He shifted slightly, trying to get a feel for how bad it was, only to be hit by another intense spike of agony. 

“Fuck,” he said when the fog of pain cleared. 

“Oh god,” Ranboo gasped. “Oh god. W-Wilbur, Wil your foot-” 

His little brother’s chest was heaving and he looked like he was about to cry. He hovered awkwardly by Wilbur’s side, his shaking hands reaching out but not touching, like Ranboo was afraid he’d hurt him more. 

“Wh-what do we do?” Ranboo asked unsteadily. “What if- if T-Techno-”

“Ranboo,” Wilbur interrupted, projecting as much confidence as he could through his pain. “It’s ok, it’s going to be fine. Take deep breaths, ok?” 

Ranboo complied, and the trembles that wracked his body started to fade. Once he seemed calmer, Wilbur continued.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I need you to lift up the box as much as you can, and I’ll try to slide out.” His voice was strained, but he sounded a lot calmer than he felt. Wilbur wasn’t far from shaking himself, but he needed to stay strong. 

“O-ok. Ok. I can do that,” said Ranboo in between his shuddering breaths. 

His brother crouched next to him, trying to find a place to lift the box from. The only place he could get a grip was where it was crushing his leg. Wilbur hissed in pain as Ranboo grabbed the box, accidentally nudging his leg in the process. The younger borrower muttered an apology. 

“Lift on three, ok?” Wilbur instructed. 

Ranboo nodded. Part of his braid, messy from sleep, came unraveled and fell in his face. Wilbur fixed his gaze on the loose strand, trying to focus on anything but the pain. 

“One,” he said after taking a shaky breath. “Two. Three.” 

Ranboo lifted with all his might, shaking from the effort. There was the slightest ease in pressure, and Wilbur tried to scoot backwards. He gasped as explosions of pain alighted all over his leg. His foot didn’t budge. 

“W-Wilbur,” Ranboo grunted, voice strained. “I can’t- can’t hold it much longer.” 

“Can you go any higher?” Wilbur asked, the desperation leaking into his voice. There was a pause as Ranboo did his best. Wilbur tried again, blinking away the spots from the pain, but there was still no give. 

“I’m trying,” his little brother said. “I can’t-” 

“It’s ok. Just… just set it down.” 

“But-!”

“We’ll come up with something else, ok?” Wilbur cut him off. 

He could tell Ranboo was being as gentle as he could, but it was still excruciating when the full weight of the box came down on his foot again. Wilbur grit his teeth and stayed quiet, refusing to make his brother feel any worse. 

“New plan,” he said once he could breathe again. “You’re going to take the hook and go get Phil. Don’t take the tunnel, remember, go to one of the floor entrances. You’ll be ok as long as you stay behind cover and pay attention.” 

“Ok,” Ranboo said, anxiety bleeding into the word. His tail lashed unhappily and Wilbur grabbed his arm and squeezed. 

“I know you can do it,” he reassured his little brother. “You-” 

A sound cut him off, the worst sound it could possibly. The sound of the kitchen door opening. Ranboo went deathly pale, barely breathing. By how faint he felt, Wilbur doubted he looked any different. 

“W-Wil-” Ranboo gasped, eyes wild with fear. Wilbur pulled him into the best hug he could with a leg trapped. 

“Shh, Boo, it’s going to be ok,” he said, promising even though such a promise was impossible to keep. “Listen very carefully, ok?” 

Ranboo nodded frantically in his arms. He could feel the teen’s lightning-quick pulse, and he held him a little tighter. 

“You’re going to take the hook and hide right by the door. If the cabinet opens, you need to use the hook, get down to the counter, and run to the closest tunnel as fast as you can. You remember how to slide down the rope?” 

“Y-yes, but…” the other borrower shuddered. “I can’t, I can’t, wh- what if-” 

He cut himself off as the sound of footsteps shook them to their core. Techno was getting steadily closer. Wilbur prayed he wouldn’t touch the cabinet that hid them, that Ranboo wouldn’t have to run. If he did… well, Wilbur would just have to make sure the attention fell on himself and not his little brother. 

“You can, Boo. I know you can,” he said firmly, pulling out of the hug and placing his hands on Ranboo’s shoulders. The footsteps were close enough now that Wilbur lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’ve done it a hundred times before. Now go .” 

And be safe, he added in his head as Ranboo scurried off to hide. 

Once his brother was safely hidden in the shadows, Wilbur felt a wave of panic crash into him. He never should have done this, and he sure as hell shouldn’t have brought Ranboo along. Now he was trapped, helpless. If Techno opened the cabinet, he was as good as caught. 

He made his bed, it was time to lie in it. He just hoped he could keep Ranboo safe in the process. 

Wilbur had heard the booming footsteps of a human approaching more times than he could count. Never had it felt more damning than now. With each step he thought Techno surely couldn’t get any closer, the steps couldn’t get louder. But the human drew closer and closer until he had to be right on top of them. 

Go past, go past, Wilbur silently chanted. His stomach curled into itself as the footsteps stopped just outside the cabinet. Techno was right there- Wilbur could actually see the way he blocked out the light through the cracks of the cabinet. 

He flinched at the sound of a cabinet opening, but it wasn’t theirs. It was the cabinet right next to them. Wilbur’s ears prickled as he listened, trying to pick up any hint of what Techno was doing. A quiet clinking told him the human was grabbing a… bowl? A mug, maybe? There was a thud as it was set down on the counter, and then the distinctive click of the kettle turning on. 

The kettle, Wilbur realized with a jolt. Which meant he was making tea. The tea that was currently in this very cabinet. As if summoned by the very thought, the door began to move, letting in a flood of light. 

When he looked back, Wilbur would remember seeing every piece of the puzzle in that moment. The way the string was caught in the cabinet door. The way part of it dangled down, directly in the path of Techno’s hand. The way Ranboo stood, hook dangling at his side as he waited for the perfect opportunity. 

Wilbur would recall it all in perfect clarity much later, and hate himself. He would wish he had seen the way the pieces clicked together, that he’d called out, done something to stop it. 

But what happened was Wilbur’s throat closing up, mouth growing dry as the cabinet opened. What happened was Techno’s hand catching on the string, yanking the hook forward and out of the cabinet. What happened was the hook digging into Ranboo’s leg, dragging him down with it. 

And through it all, the only thing Wilbur did was watch, horror stealing his voice away. 

***

Everything was a blur of pain. Ranboo had been so focused on the terror of what he had to do, of Wilbur being in danger, that he hadn't noticed the rope catching on the cabinet door until it was too late. 

The sharp hook dug into his leg, dragging him towards the edge of the cabinet. There was an explosion of pain, but that had been shoved to the sideline once he started freefalling. He was terrified he'd fall all the way down and hit the counter hard enough to kill him. 

The hook caught in his leg had one silver lining, though. He jerked to a stop part way through the fall, the string still caught on something. His momentum halted, until a moment later when the hook tore out of his leg and he tumbled the rest of the way to the ground. 

The impact knocked the breath out of him, and for a moment, all he could do was lay there. His entire body ached, and it felt like fire was eating through his leg. 

It wasn't until he heard a sharp inhalation from above him… far above him… that he remembered the danger he was in. He opened his eyes and sat up, locking eyes with the human. Technoblade. 

Panic flooded his system, and the pain was shoved to the back of his mind. Run , he had to run. But he couldn't even stand. Oh god.  

The human moved and he flinched, mind racing. His vivid imagination was going through all the ways Techno could kill him. The terrifying thoughts played on loop, and his breath came in shaky wheezes. 

When the human raised his hands, Ranboo scurried backwards. His leg throbbed, but it was only a sensation in the back of his mind in the face of his panic. 

Suddenly, Techno moved, his hands moving forward at a terrifying speed. Before Ranboo could even try to escape, fingers were surrounding him; touching him and curling around him. 

Ranboo couldn't breathe, couldn't even move through his fear. All he could do was wait, completely at the human's mercy. 

Chapter Text

A tiny person had fallen on his counter. 

There was a tiny person. On his counter. Holy shit. 

They were maybe four inches tall, small enough to fit in Techno's hand easily. They had a tail, and what looked like old burn scars covering half their face. 

They… were also terrified, and looked like they were the same age as Tommy and Tubbo. He leaned down slightly, still not entirely sure if he was dreaming, and they flinched back with a tiny whimper. Techno's stomach twisted at being the reason for their fear. 

He raised his hands in surrender, but it just seemed to scare them more. They scrambled backwards… dragging one leg limply against the counter. His heart sank when he realized they were leaving a trail of blood behind them. They must have hurt it when they fell. 

Techno's mind started going a million miles an hour. It may not look like much blood to him, but compared to how small they were, it was far too much. And it didn't seem like the blood loss was slowing down any. The kid needed medical attention, quickly. He could have a crisis over a person so impossibly tiny existing later. 

Techno winced when he realized what he had to do if he wanted to help them. There was no time to calm them down before acting. He wasn't going to let a kid, even a pocket sized one of unknown origins- they definitely weren't human- bleed out on his counter. 

"Please don't panic," Techno breathed, more to himself than the kid, as he reached out. They yelped, and tried to back further away, but he quickly scooped them into his hands, trying his best not to jostle their wounds. They had started silently sobbing, their entire body trembling. 

Techno started walking quickly to the bathroom, where he kept his first aid kit. Each sob made a knife of guilt twist further into his heart. He couldn't help but imagine Tommy or Tubbo in this situation, which made it even worse. 

"Hey, hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, kid," he promised, voice shaky. "I've just got to bandage your leg before you lose too much blood." 

There was a steady pool of it growing in his hand, and he tried not to panic. The kid's breathing was erratic, and suddenly they slumped over in his hand. Techno wasn't sure if they'd passed out from the panic or the blood loss. He wasn't sure which was worse. 

He wasted no time, pulling out the first aid kit and laying the kid on a clean washcloth. It would probably have to be thrown away, but he was far more worried about the tiny kid surviving through this. 

He tried to pull their pant leg away from the wound, but it stuck. He realized it was probably helping to keep the blood in, so he just started wrapping the bandages over the wound. The pant leg would probably have to be cut away after this. 

"Hope you like capris pants," he muttered. At least the wound was on their lower leg. If whatever had caught him had hit the femoral artery, he doubted the kid would've survived. 

He was a little scared he'd wound the bandage too tight, but that was better than not tight enough. His primary focus was keeping them from bleeding out. He couldn't afford to worry about accidentally causing other minor damage. Actually surviving came first. 

Finally, it looked like he had managed to stop most of the bleeding. He'd managed to make a kind of tourniquet by cutting up bandages into tiny pieces, but it was clumsily done. Hopefully it could get the job done. 

After he'd stopped the worst of it, Techno considered calling an ambulance. This was out of his area of expertise for several reasons. But he didn't think doctor's would be any more equipped to treat a miniature person than he was, aside from having more medical knowledge. They wouldn't have equipment to help someone four inches tall, and wouldn't believe him anyways if he tried to explain the problem.

His more paranoid side spoke up as well. He'd never heard of people the size of dolls before. If more than this kid existed, they obviously kept their existence a secret. What if the government took the kid and experimented on them? What if Techno accidentally revealed the existence of an entire race by trying to help? 

In the end he decided against it. He didn't think the doctors would be able to do anything worth the risk. They didn't have anything small enough to give a tiny person a blood transfusion, and that was Techno's main worry now that he had mostly stopped the bleeding. All he could do was hope the kid would recover. 

They at least seemed to be breathing easier now, and it didn't look like they were losing any more blood. Techno could feel his mind spiraling into shock and confusion now that the crisis was mostly over. 

With shaking hands, he got another washcloth, the softest one he could find, and stuck it under the sink. He wringed the cloth out so it was damp instead of dripping, and began to shakily clean some of the blood off the child. He hoped the task would distract him from his thoughts, but disbelief and questions swirled relentlessly. 

How was this possible? Where had the kid even come from? What were they doing in his cabinet? Were they looking for food? Oh god, Techno would have to feed them, wouldn't he? Could they eat the same things as humans? Were they on their own, or were there others? Either option raised more questions, honestly. 

Of course, his anxious thoughts kicked in, and the back of his mind whispered that maybe the kid was spying on him, or maybe they'd been poisoning his food. But… the larger part of Techno's head didn't think the kid was malicious. And, well. Even if they were, he wasn't about to let them bleed out. They were just a kid. 

He set the cloth to the side when he realized the remaining blood was on their clothes and not something he could get out with a rag. He felt a spike of panic as he noticed the kid's skin had turned a shade of red. Had he been scrubbing hard enough to hurt them? 

But when he looked closer, he realized it was more like a rash. That was… worrying. But he didn't know what was causing it, and the kid couldn't tell him while unconscious. He'd just have to… watch and make sure it didn't get worse. (He had no idea what he'd do if it did get worse.) 

Being extremely careful not to move the kid too much, Techno lifted the washcloth they were laying on, moving them to his room. He set them down by his laptop and collapsed into his office chair. His screensaver bounced languidly around and he followed its movement with tired eyes. He'd just started the day and he was already exhausted. Thank god it was the weekend; he didn't think he could handle going to class or work on top of this. 

A sudden thought struck him, and he wiggled the mouse, waiting impatiently for his laptop to wake up. It loaded a lot slower than he had the patience for right now, and he tapped his fingers in annoyance. Once the screen loaded, he pulled up the search engine and typed in 'what to do for blood loss.' 

Maybe he should've done this earlier, but he didn't exactly have time to look up the best course of action. He winced when he saw the first step was to remove clothing or debris from the wound. He'd already failed on the first step, huh? It looked like he'd done ok with the rest, though, so hopefully it would be fine… he wasn't sure if he could've gotten the wound uncovered without causing more bleeding, honestly.  

There wasn't much he could do about it now, so he moved on to what he could do for recovery. Resting, fluids, food, that all seemed pretty manageable. He had a few sports drinks in the fridge, those would probably help. 

Right now, though? All he could do right now was wait. 

***

Wilbur was frozen in place. He'd stopped breathing, unable to feel anything but horror as his little brother was flung down to the counter. 

He wanted to cry out, scream at the human not to touch his brother, but fear had reduced his voice to a tiny croak. 

He let out a quiet, strangled sound when Techno lifted his brother off the counter. Don't fucking touch him! He wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come. Put him down! 

The human started walking off, his little brother trapped in his hands. Wilbur let out a broken sob. Why Ranboo? Why did it have to be Ranboo? It was supposed to be him. Wilbur was the one who'd gone on this stupid trip, he was the one who should've been caught. 

Not his little brother, who was scared to even look at the humans. Not Ranboo, who never took risks, who was as safe as one could be as a borrower. Not Ranboo, whose riskiest borrow had been a fucking sock. 

Wilbur tore at the box that pinned his ankle to the ground. It still didn't budge, but he needed to go, he had to get Ranboo back. He growled, giving up on moving the box and yanked.

There was a terrible pop, and a burst of pain. His vision went white for a moment, but when he could see again, he was free. His ankle was already swelling, the foot twisted terribly and facing the wrong way, but Wilbur couldn't afford to be picky. He was free, so he could do something. 

He hobbled to the edge of the cabinet, each step making bile rise in his throat. Even if he could reach Ranboo without passing out, he wouldn't be able to get him back home safely. Especially not if Ranboo was also injured. Techno hadn’t noticed the hook, and Wilbur pulled it up, his heart twisting at the sight of blood on it. 

He leaped from the counter, biting his lip as a stab of pain shot through his ankle. He spread his wings, catching himself in the air and floating slowly down. He didn't bother with the stupid stuck door, instead gliding to the floor, heading towards another entrance they rarely used. 

He landed on his good ankle, but the twisted one hit against the ground all the same. He grit his teeth against the pain, and pushed his way through the entrance, staggering through the tunnels as quickly as he could. 

Minutes felt like hours, and the pain exhausted him far quicker than he was used to. By the time he reached their home, he was breathing raggedly, almost dizzy from the pain. Still, he stumbled inside, pushing aside the curtain that separated their sleeping room from the rest of the house. 

"Phil," he said as loudly as he could, voice hoarse. He shook his dad awake, waiting impatiently as the man sat up. 

Phil looked confused and a bit irritated, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His feathers were puffed up, a few sticking out incorrectly. 

"Wil, what are you…?" Phil's annoyance faded with his sentence as he caught sight of Wilbur's face. The younger borrower was pale and tearstained, clinging to his father's arm with a death grip. 

"Dad," Wilbur started shakily, "I fucked up." 

***

Chapter Text

If you hadn't guessed from the change of the title and summary, this version of Earthbound Spirits is officially abandoned. 

I was hesitant to officially call it abandoned for quite a while, bc it's one of my favorite aus I've ever done. But it's clear that as long as Wilbur's one of the main characters, I'm not imma have any interest in finishing the story. 

I've been considering just fully rewriting ES for a while. I thought about switching out Wilbur for Niki and making it a Syndicate style story, but her personality just doesn't fit, and I'd need to do quite a bit of rewriting to make that work. Then I considered just removing Wilbur altogether and having it be only Phil and Ranboo, but that would remove the character that drives the plot. 

Then. I finally found the perfect replacement, who actually fits better than Wilbur in my opinion: Grian. 

This rewrite isn't so much a rewrite as much as a change. There's a few little edits for better grammar, or dialogue that fits Grian a little more, and I also took this chance to update Ranboo's pronouns to he/they. 

Other than that, this just gives me a chance to continue the story while still enjoying all the characters! 

Thank you all for your support on this story originally, and for being so patient. If you're reading this, two years after I stopped updating, you're incredible <3 

Love you all, and I hope to see you on the new Earthbound Spirits!