Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pain.

Pain is a blessing.

Without pain, you serve no purpose.

If you run from pain, if you yell or scream at its touch, you are weak. Pain is good. Pain lets you live another day. 

Just don’t scream.

It was a simple rule, really, not that hard to follow. It was typed out on signs and posters, carved into bedposts, and scrawled in red across the walls of the apartments. 

Pain is good. 

Every child knew the silent nursery rhymes, the tapped phrases, the rhythmic stories. It was the first thing taught to those that were brought to the Essempí. The smart ones remembered it and took the pain willingly. 

Anyone that dared to fight or shout at the first flash of pain was discarded.

This was the way things were. It was the way things had been for years, or maybe millennia. It was a strict system, and it wasn’t going to be broken anytime soon. Life was good here. Everything was perfect. Everything was fine.

That’s what they told Tommy when he first arrived at the apartment.

Tommy and three other kids had been shoved into the hall, silent save for tapping sounds coming from a few of the rooms. Tommy’s legs buckled beneath him, stiff and sore from the cramped journey here. The other kids began murmuring, confused and frightened, and a girl quickly came over to them from one of the apartment rooms to whisper the rules to them.

Rule one: Pain is good.

Rule two: Talking is a privilege.

Rule three: Don’t make eye contact with the Elytrians.

None of them had time to ask any questions before the girl had scurried back to her room. She launched herself onto her bed, resuming a game of fibbles with her roommate. One of the other kids tried asking her something, but she just put a finger to her lips and turned back to her game.

A walk through the apartment quickly established some of the other unspoken rules. There were no doors anywhere, nor were there windows. The apartment rooms were small, and only held two people each, silently watching Tommy from their beds.

Eventually, exhausted and confused, he found an unoccupied bed and heaved himself onto the soft mattress. His roommate didn’t glance up from his book as Tommy buried himself under the covers and began to cry.

The next day, he’d discovered the reason for the rules.

Chapter Text

Tommy doodled absently. His sketchbook had maybe ten blank pages left in it. He’d send in a request for a new one tomorrow. Most of his sketchbooks were in a similar state as this one, stuffed with scribbles save for a few empty pages at the end. He preferred not to finish them. It felt like he was saying goodbye when he did that.

His charcoal snapped in half. He tossed it aside and grabbed another. They weren’t allowed pencils, so he made do with the blackened lumps leftover in the fireplace by the end of the day. 

He smudged the edges of the drawing, then tapped on the wall to get his roommate’s attention. Ranboo! Let me see your tattoo.

Ranboo turned his head so Tommy could see the tiny symbol. Tommy examined it for a moment, then nodded and went back to his drawing. 

The tattoos sat under the right eye of everyone in the apartments. Each detailed a tiny purple dragon fiercely protecting a star compass. Tommy had memorized his own long ago, but every tattoo was unique in some way, so Ranboo’s was curled on the ground instead of standing up straight like Tommy’s. 

He blew away the charcoal crumbs and held the picture back up. Ranboo glanced over, and nodded . Good job with the vitiligo. It looks nice.

Tommy bounced a little on the mattress, pleased with Ranboo’s assessment. He’d hang it up once he found a place for it on his wall, already plastered with drawings of the other residents in the apartment.

A small beep made him and Ranboo look up. Tommy’s screen was flashing. “Fully charged,” the robotic woman’s voice read out. “Notifying Fai now.”

The monitor on Tommy’s ankle unlatched. He hesitated, then set down the sketchbook to rub at the raw skin.

Ranboo knocked on the wall. That’s. . . good.

Tommy shrugged. Yeah. Great.

Maybe he’ll take it later, Ranboo tapped. Or maybe he won’t take as much.

It’s fine, Tommy smiled. I’m happy to do it.

Ranboo gave a grin back. 

Another beep came from above a few minutes later. Tommy didn’t have to look up to know it was for him. “1732, please report to the office immediately.”

He silently closed his sketchbook, shoving it into his drawer. The broken charcoal went in the trash chute. Tommy slid off his bed, then stretched and left the room. 

The hallway was as long and silent as it was the day he arrived. The rules were all there, too, either carved or painted on the walls by past residents. 

No one remembered who had made the rules. It was always a fierce debate in the apartment’s cafeteria. Some thought the Enderians had come up with them, to keep them safe and respectful. Others believed some past Elytrian emperor had established them when the first Enderians were brought to the Essempí. Tommy didn’t really care who had made the rules, because in the end it only mattered that they were followed. 

He stepped into the elevator and lowered his gaze to the floor. At least the builders had been considerate when designing it. The floor was made up of reflective tiles, so he could see if someone was coming near him. Accidentally making eye contact would be a stupid way to get discarded.

The elevator let him off at the main level with a bing. Tommy checked his smile in his reflection and walked over to the front desk. Fai was waiting there expectantly, tapping his fingers on the purple wood. 

“Ah, here it is!” He bellowed. “The star of the night!”

“It’s morning,” the receptionist said absently behind the desk. 

“Well, then, the star of the morning!” Fai chuckled. He signed the check-out form the receptionist handed him. “I’ll just take it to my house, I don’t like the public refilling stations. Shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes.”

He pulled out his leash and clipped it onto the collar permanently around Tommy’s neck, then tugged him out of the apartment. Here, on the streets, it was especially important to close his eyes. The Elytrians bustled about, chatting and laughing as they went about their daily business. 

A whoosh of air threw dust into his face. Tommy recognized Lenise’s perfume as she landed by Fai. 

“Going to replenish, dear?” she asked. 

“Magic’s getting low,” he replied cheerily. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself by running out at my meeting later.”

“You’re going to be great, love. I’m just about to check one out myself,” Lenise said. “I’m getting tired of the wind power. Maybe I’ll try a physical type today. Zanio tried speed last week and said it was a lot of fun.”

“Okay. See you soon.” There was a disgustingly wet kissing sound, then Tommy was pulled along down the cobblestones. 

It was the anticipation that was the worst part, he thought. He was used to the pain, and the rules were right. Pain was a comfort, the relief of knowing you got to live another day. But it was the anticipation that tossed his stomach around. No matter what his brain had been trained, no matter how much he followed the rules, anticipation crept in and tensed his muscles and chilled his blood and made him sweat. 

Fai noticed. ”Why are you so pale?” he grumbled, stopping. Tommy bumped into the corner of a building but didn’t open his eyes, not with so many people around. “Stop that. You’re making me look bad.”

Fai waited, then huffed impatiently and tugged him closer. “You have permission to speak. Why are you nervous? Are you planning something?”

Tommy smiled. “No, sir.” Right, that was how his voice sounded. Hoarse and rough. 

“Then why are you nervous? Do you need to see the emperor?” 

Chills ran down his back. “N-no, sir.”

The pain came. Fai slapped him across the face, hard enough that his head knocked against the building. “Answer why you’re scared.”

Tommy chirped and straightened. “I’m not nervous, sir, just excited. I’m sorry for appearing pale.”

Fai considered a moment. “Hm. I guess that makes sense.” Tommy’s collar tightened and they continued along the street. 

Tommy relaxed a bit, letting Fai lead him forward. They passed a food vendor’s sizzling stall, and he took a deep inhale of the rich scent of frying fruit before it was gone. It was fun going out around the city. Everything was so busy. Here, he could hear at least twenty people talking all at once. It calmed him and wiped the anticipation away.

A steep flight of stairs signaled that they had reached the house. Once he heard the click of Fai’s boots on tile, he lowered his head and opened his eyes again. The floor here was shiny stone, and only the shadows of reflections were visible on it.

“You know where to go,” Fai said, patting his shoulder. “Hit the button when you’re done.”

Tommy nodded and waited until Fai had walked off to the refilling room. Once the door had clicked shut, he went into the adjacent room and shut the door behind him. 

A soft green light ran down his face. “Dragon identified. Welcome, Enderian 1732. Please take a seat.”

He settled himself into the soft cushions and blankets that were piled around the room. As usual, a boxy machine slid out of the wall. A rubber flap covered the only hole in the white cube, but he could still see green lights blinking inside.

“Please insert your hand now.”

Tommy slowly pushed his shaking hand into the hole. Once his fingers bumped the back of the box, the rubber tightened, squeezing his arm. 

There was a hissing sound, something latched onto his wrist, and then came the pain.

Tommy took a deep breath in, focusing on the flow of air through his body. It wasn’t too bad at the beginning. It started off as a tingling, but exponentially grew worse as it crept through the rest of his body.

It was beginning to spread up to his shoulder, turning into a burn at his wrist. No, don’t think about that. Focus on breathing.

In, hold. Out, hold. In, hold. Out, hold. His nails were biting into the raw skin on his palm. He forced his fingers open and let them clutch a pillow instead.

The pain continued to spread. It felt like his blood was boiling. There was fire burning him from the inside out, but in pricks and pinches. Burning thorns. He bit his lip, puncturing the already scarred skin there. 

Don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream

It continued spreading. He gave up on the breaths. His chest constricted, making them come in short pants. His vision fuzzed and was filled with dark spots.

Happy happy happy this is good don’t scream

The burning thorns were suddenly wiped away by a flood of cold. Frost was expanding across his muscles. Icicles were puncturing his flesh just below the surface of his skin. 

It was all he could do not to collapse. Air was pushing against his throat but he didn’t let it out because if he let it out now he would yell and then he’d be discarded. 

Then, from the top of his head, the thaw came. It felt like his blood was melting. Tommy bit back a sob as he felt his power being siphoned off into the box. It drained him until he felt hollow and empty. Only then did the rubber release him.

“Thank you for your contributions!”

A panel slid up from the wall, and a small purple sphere rolled down into Tommy’s lap. He smiled and popped it into his mouth. Ohhh, fuck yes. The candy melted flavors of fruit and sugar across his tongue, sticky and sweet. He sighed happily, leaning back on the cushions. This was the best part of the whole process. Even if the candy was just to make him recharge faster, he looked forward to the tiny treat every time he was checked out. Plus, Fai’s candies were way better than the public refilling stations’.

Eventually, the candy was fully dissolved and gone, and Fai would be angry if Tommy took too long, so he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, sparing only a glance at the blood now smeared over the mass of pin prick scars on his wrist. He pushed himself to his feet shakily, and left the room, pressing a button on the side of a pillar in the hall to signal that he was done. A few minutes later, Fai exited his room.

“Ah, that’s much better!” he sighed, stretching. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Tommy nodded. The aftertaste of the candy still coated his mouth. Fai clipped the leash to his collar and they began the walk back to the apartment.

It wasn’t the life of an Elytrian, but it was enough. They got their entertainment, a safe place to call home, fresh food in the cafeteria, roommates, rules, candies. . .

It was a good way to live.

Chapter Text

Fai was an idiot.

He was a rich idiot, and he talked too much.

Dream did not like Fai.

Or most anyone.

And yet, here he was, sitting in a drab meeting, listening to the rich idiot ramble on and on about himself. It was the most boring and stupid lecture he had ever heard. Dream was very close to falling asleep when Fai decided to change his approach.

“What?” Dream said, jerking his head up.

“I, er, do you. . . want a demonstration?” Fai’s eyes flicked around the room, but he couldn’t see the emperor in the dark throne room. 

“Fine, fine, go ahead.” The sooner this was over, the better. Dream leaned back and yawned. “Remind me again what you’re demonstrating?”

“Ah. . . My power, sir. And how I think it could benefit you-“

“All right, all right, get on with it before I really do fall asleep.”

“Yes, sir.” Idiot.

Dream scratched his arm, glancing around the room, waiting for something to happen. And then he was sitting on the edge of a plateau, looking down into the void below. A pebble slipped off the edge and fell into the darkness.

“You see?” Fai’s voice came from all sides, but was nowhere to be seen. “Fully charged, my powers are completely realistic. Anywhere I’ve been, I can recreate in perfect detail, no matter how long it’s been or how hazy my memory is.”

Dream brushed his hand against the rock. It was grainy and brushed off easily. “Teleportation? Or astral projection?”

“Neither, sir. Illusion combined with phantom sensory. You’re still in the throne room, and you won’t be able to physically move while in this state, even though your mind believes you’re moving in the illusion. Convincing?”

“Very.” He turned and swept his hand through the air behind him. It did not hit the throne. “What’s the Enderian’s name?”

The illusion disappeared. Fai tucked his hands behind his back, the hint of a smile on his face. “I only know its numbers, sir, but I can bring it by tomorrow-“

“10:30, sharp. Don’t be late.” Dream leaned back in his throne and closed his eyes. 

Interesting. . .

Chapter Text

The fireplace was cold and empty.

Tommy hesitated, feeling around the dark square hole. His fingers brushed ash and stone. No charcoal. 

No charcoal meant no drawing. No drawing meant. . . he had to find some other way to recharge.

He withdrew his blackened hand from the fireplace and brushed the ash off on his napkin, then tossed it in the trash on his way out of the cafeteria. 1713 waved at him— what was her name, again? Well, it didn’t really matter. He smiled and waved back, then pushed through the doors and made his way to the elevator.

Ranboo was still asleep when he returned to their room. Tommy flopped down on his own bed and rummaged through his drawer.

He tossed aside the nine sketchbooks crammed into the small space and craned his neck to see what was left. A broken feather and a horribly crumpled drawing of Fai. Not the best things to work with.

Maybe he could go through his old sketchbooks? He flipped through a few pages of one, but quickly stopped and put it down. Fuck, those drawings were horrible . Twelve-year-old Tommy had no concept of proper proportions. 

Well, no drawing. No looking at drawings. No talking to Ranboo. That left only one option for recharging. Sleep.

Tommy burrowed beneath his blanket and shut his eyes. Sleepy time. Time to take a nap. Nap time.

. . .

He wasn’t tired. He groaned into his pillow. This was gonna be a rough day, wasn’t it?

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

When Tommy woke up, it was 12:57. Luckily he’d had a good dream, and was fully charged, ready for Fai.

But he never came.

Tommy waited nervously, watching the clock. 1:30. 2:30. 3:30. The hours inched on agonizingly. Tommy tried distracting herself with one of Ranboo’s books that he lent him, but he was too tense to make sense of the words. 

Where is he? Tommy finally tapped on the wall. He’s never this late.

Maybe he’s just not going to recharge today, Ranboo suggested. 

But he does it every day! Maybe he took too much yesterday, or he isn’t using it as much today, or— Tommy froze, then leaned over and gripped Ranboo’s sleeve. Boo, you don’t think he’s done with me?!

Tommy, he’s not going to discard you. You’re like his favorite Enderian, he wouldn’t just get rid of you out of the blue. 

Maybe I did something wrong!

You’re overthinking this. Did you break any of the rules yesterday?

No! I did everything right! Maybe I accidentally made a noise when I wasn’t supposed to, or— or I took too long to eat the candy, I don’t know!

Ranboo considered this for a moment, then started rummaging through his drawer. What are you going to do if he is discarding you?

I don’t bloody know!! Tommy gripped his wrist, panicking. I can’t do anything about it! I don’t want to be discarded, I’m not ready! I can still be useful! I—

Whoa, whoa, calm down, I don’t want you to be discarded either. Ranboo hesitated, then pulled a small, yellowed paper from his drawer. Here, maybe this can help.

Tommy took the folded paper. Strange red scratches covered its surface. His vision blurred after staring for a few seconds. The symbols bled to purple and rearranged to form words.

THE BRIDGE IS NOT THE EARTH, BUT THE END. THERE IS AN EDGE TO THE VOID. TAKE THE RISK. YOU WILL MAKE IT.

What the hell is this? Tommy tapped.

I don’t know, I found it at the back of a book. I think it has to do with the void. Ranboo fidgeted with his hands. Maybe you can use it somehow to escape discarding?

But what does it mean?

Ranboo shrugged. It was just hidden in my drawer when I was brought to the Essempí. I’ve thought about it a lot, but I have no clue what it’s talking about.

Tommy leaned back, exhaling. Not the ‘earth’, but the end. An edge to the void. Take the risk. . .

What if. . . it’s talking about the bridge outside? The one that connects the two islands? Like, maybe there’s a secret group of Enderians that have escaped that live under it?

Ranboo raised an eyebrow. Wouldn’t someone notice them?

Yeah, yeah, you’re right, it’s stupid. Tommy rubbed his eyes. Maybe I should just let myself be discarded like everyone else.

I— Ranboo stared at the floor. It’s your choice, but. . . I don’t want you to die when there’s another option. Is that selfish?

No, it’s not selfish, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do! I don’t want to leave you alone, but I can’t stay here. I don’t want to die. Tommy sighed and stared at the paper. 

“1732, please report to the front desk immediately.”

Take the risk.

“1732, please report to the front desk now.”

Tommy hesitated, then set the paper down and stepped down from off his bed.

“Bye, boob boy,” he whispered.

Ranboo looked up, shocked. Tommy smiled weakly. “Stay happy, ‘kay?”

Ranboo tapped a message as he turned to leave. Don’t. Don’t die.

Tommy nodded. “You too.”

He took a deep breath and started walking down the hall.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

The elevator doors slid open with a soft bing. Tommy lowered his head, walking across the lobby to the front desk. Fai beamed at him and patted his back when he was close enough. 

“Hello, star. I’ve got some news for you. You’re leaving the apartment for good! Isn’t that wonderful?”

I was right, Tommy thought numbly. I’m being discarded.

“I need to finalize some papers, so you go wait for me by the door, okay?” Fai turned back to the desk and started signing the stack of documents next to the receptionist. 

Tommy walked over to the entrance. No one was nearby, so he risked a quick glance around. The bridge was farther than he’d remembered, past a rock garden and a large blinking sign advertising the apartment. Blessedly, the only Elytrian in sight was an old gardener growing orange succulents in his window across the street. 

The bridge is not the earth, but the end. So. . . don’t cross the bridge, but maybe there’s a secret on the bridge somewhere. Tommy took a deep breath, preparing himself to run. Okay, okay. Three, two, one!

He burst through the door and sprinted for the bridge. Fai and the receptionist shouted in surprise. The rock garden tripped him, and he slipped, falling onto the gravel. A second later he was up again, running for the first time in years.

“Who’s Enderian is that?!” The gardener yelled. A second later a cactus flew past his ear. 

Tommy ignored the shouts, leaping onto the bridge and scrambling up onto the railing, panting. Not the earth but the end. Not the earth but the end.

He eyed the other side of the chasm. The white stone dropped down into darkness, far below. The cliffs were steep and smooth, with no visible ledges or crevices, nowhere for someone to safely hide or climb down. 

“1732, stop this nonsense right now!” Tommy looked up. Fai was storming through the rock garden after him, his face twisted in rage. “The emperor is expecting you! Get over here!”

“No!” Tommy yelled, “I’m not going!”

Fai froze and stared at him. Tommy moved his gaze quickly to the ground, just as stunned as Fai was. What had he just. . . 

“You— you dare talk to me?!” Oh fuck, oh fuck. Tommy quickly hopped down from the railing and bowed, shaking.

Crack. Fai punched him, sending him sprawling onto the cold cobblestone. Tommy bit his lip, holding in a scream as Fai began kicking him in the side. His ribs were burning. He was going to throw up, but that would only make Fai angrier, so he had to hold it in. Blood was filling his mouth again. It hurt so much.  

“You’re my ticket to a place in the palace!” Fai screamed. “Why do you have to be disobedient?!”

Something snapped in Tommy’s chest and the pain flared. He tried to take a deep breath but it came out as a shriek.

Beefy fingers gripped at his throat, choking off his scream. He let his body go limp, trying to relax as his neck constricted tighter and tighter. Fai lifted his body over the railing of the bridge, letting him dangle over the void.

“You listen here,” Fai said, muffled as though Tommy had pillows over his ears, “you’re going to go to the emperor. You’re going to obey him. You’re going to give him your power, and you’re going to be happy about it. Understand?” He shook him a little.

Darkness was creeping into the edges of Tommy’s vision. What was Fai saying? He was going to die here. He was just going to die. Ranboo would be disappointed.

His wrist was burning. Not painfully, like his ribs, but a warmth was pulsing right under his wrist. 

Fai was making noise. Oh yeah, Tommy was going to die. Tommy’s eyes teared up. He didn’t want to go like this. He had to tell Fai. But he couldn’t breathe. . .

The hand was released. Air rushed into his lungs and air rushed around him and air was all around—

He dropped me, Tommy thought, and then everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Cold.

Tommy opened his eyes.

He was lying in a collection of water. Or what he assumed was water. It seemed strange to him that so much water would be on a flat surface like this. Maybe an Elytrian had been using a water power. Fai only used—

Fai.

Fai.

Oh, fuck.

Tommy sat bolt upright, then winced and thought better of moving. He carefully scooted back until he was leaning against a pile of— well, he didn’t know what they were, but they were at least cushier than brick.

Okay. Fuck. First things first. Where was he, and were there any Elytrians around?

The. . . water collection provided a decent enough reflection for him to see that he was in an alleyway, surrounded by red brick walls on three sides. Odd that someone would build apartments so close together. There was some sort of fabric above, too, making some strange drumming sound.

The water wasn’t enough to see past the buildings. He glanced up quickly. It looked like something was leaking water, making droplets drip onto the street from. . . the sky? Okay, sure, why not. Perfectly normal. All fine. All good. 

He clapped a hand over his mouth and bent over his knees, ignoring the pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fai had dropped him off the bridge, and now he was somewhere or nowhere with weird water and everything hurt which was good, of course, he was safe, but he didn’t even know what he was going to do— there was nothing to do, there was no one here, and if there was he’d be discarded anyways, and— and the note was right, the bridge was the end, and maybe he was dead, and no one would care—

“Are you all right?”

Tommy froze. Slowly, he raised his head just enough to look into the reflection of the water. Fuck. A man was standing at the mouth of the alleyway. No purple dragon under his eye. He was an Elytrian. 

Do I have permission to speak? Tommy wondered. Playing it safe, he simply nodded and smiled at the ground. 

“A-are you sure?” The man crouched down. Fuuuuuck. He was testing Tommy to see if he would avoid eye contact. Well, Tommy was an expert in this game. 

Tommy nodded, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. The Elytrian hummed. “Mate, you’re in an alleyway, in the rain, at night, sitting against trash bags. Do you need help?”

Tommy was baffled. Rain? What was rain? Trash. . . bags? Why would anyone put trash in a bag? Help with what? This man wasn’t making any sense.

“Can you talk?” The man took his arm and he flinched, making a chirping noise instinctually. The man loosened his grip, but his hand ran down until he was holding his forearm. “What the— what are these marks? Mate, what’s wrong with your wrist?”

Tommy opened his eyes, gaze flying to his wrist. There was nothing unusual about it. The scars speckling his skin looked no different than normal, so the man shouldn’t have any concerns about it. . .

“Look, mate, I don’t know what’s going on with your wrist, or that tattoo on your face, but you can’t just stay here. Do you have somewhere you can go, or. . .?”

Tommy shook his head. The man exhaled and let go of him. “Okay. How about— do you want to— to stay with me? Just for the night? You can, like, sleep in the spare room, it’s just my wife Kristin at home.”

Tommy nodded slowly. At this point, he was just tired. The man kept testing him with weird words and he didn’t know the answers he was supposed to give. 

The Elytrian clasped his hand and yanked him to his feet. He yelped as his ribs flared with pain again. Fuck. He had broken the first rule again. Pain was good. He shouldn’t have made a noise. Now the man was going to get mad and slap him or choke him or kill him or maybe he’d just leave him here to rot—

“You good?” The man said. A hand touched his side and he bit his lip, forcing himself not to move away. 

“Holy shit, your ribs are broken! Why didn’t you tell me, that must have hurt !” The man crouched down again and Tommy closed his eyes. “Mate. . . Who do this to you? Your ribs are broken and you’re bruised all over. What happened?”

Stop asking questions that don’t have yes or no as an answer! Tommy thought. He was crying again. He wished he could stop. 

Suddenly, arms reached behind his back and legs and scooped him up. “Here, mate, I’ll carry you. I’ll try to be gentle, okay?”

Without thinking, Tommy grabbed his wrist and leaned into the man’s chest as he began walking out of the alley. Water fell on his face like the whole sky was crying with him. The man held him close like he was a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment.

Nothing was making sense. Exhaustion pressed on Tommy’s eyelids. It felt weird falling asleep without his ankle monitor, let alone in the arms of a moving stranger, but eventually darkness overtook him and he fell into his dreams. 

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Scales coiled around the edges of a dark room. Tommy watched a shadowed figure walk into the center of a large beam of light and place his palm on the ground, fingers spread. 

Green light rushed from his hand in waves, leaving spots and lines as it filled the room until he was standing in a projection of a star compass, needle spinning uselessly above him.

The figure regarded the compass for a moment, then turned and glanced around until he spotted Tommy. A wide grin stretched across a blank mask, dark eyes staring directly into his.

“Where are you?” Dream murmured, green smoke spilling out from around his mask. 

Tommy couldn’t move or speak as the scales began moving, a dragon’s head appearing from the far reaches of the room. Its slit-pupiled eyes met his own challengingly, a forked tongue slipping from its mouth.

The dragon lunged forward, mouth open wide. Fangs flashed in Tommy’s vision, then he was surrounded by darkness.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy opened his eyes. He was curled in a ball under a blanket so puffy it was really more of a large cushion. 

He sat up, wincing at the pain in his chest, and carefully scanned the room. He appeared to be in a large apartment room, with one bed, a wardrobe with a door hanging crooked, and several boxes of varying sizes stacked in the corners. He was alone.

As nice as it was, it was clear that this wasn’t a room meant for Enderians. There was no screen on the ceiling, no magic ankle monitor, and no entertainment. 

Best not to linger if this was an Elytrian's room. Tommy swung his legs off the bed and stumbled over to the door, holding his ribs carefully. 

Before he could figure out how to open the door, it swung out and smacked him in the face. 

“Fuck! You’re right there! Sorry, sorry!” It was the man from last night. Tommy smiled, clutching his stinging nose with his free hand. Pain.

“Kristin!” The Elytrian yelled over his shoulder. “He’s awake!” He turned back to Tommy and frowned. “You didn’t have to get out of bed, your ribs are sti—“

Tommy nodded quickly and ran back to the bed, jumping up and flinging himself onto it before the man got upset. However, it seemed he miscalculated the solution because the man’s frown only deepened. 

“No, mate, that’s exactly the kind of movement you shouldn’t— oh, nevermind. Kristin!”

A woman appeared in the doorway. “I’m right here, Phil, stop shouting.” She peeked into the room and spotted Tommy. A smile lit up her face. “Hi! I’m Kristin, Phil’s wife. What’s your name?”

Tommy looked down, not risking staring at the wall anymore. What should he do in this situation, answer or keep quiet?

The man, Phil, whispered something. The woman stepped into the room, coming up and sitting on the end of the bed. “You can talk to us, kid. If you want.”

Tommy took that as permission to speak. “My name’s Tommy, ma’am.”

“Tommy! That’s a nice name,” Phil said, walking over to join his wife.

“Your voice sounds sore, do you need a cough drop?” Kristin asked. 

Tommy scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion and slowly shook his head. “My voice always sounds like this, ma’am.”

“There’s no need for any ma’ams,” Kristin said, smiling warmly. “You can just call me Kristin, if you’re comfortable with it.”

Tommy nodded. There was a brief silence, like they were waiting for something. “Can I use the restroom?” Tommy whispered. 

Phil smiled and gestured at the door. “Of course, it’s just down the hall, two doors to the left. Take all the time you need.”

Tommy nodded again and hurriedly left, eager to be by himself and calm himself down. This was gonna be tricky, but he thought that with enough time, he’d be able to figure these new rules out.

Chapter Text

Phil watched the boy go, and was immediately bombarded with questions.

“What was that tattoo on his face? Why were his clothes so weird? Why—“

“I don’t know, Kristin!” he said, flopping back on the bed. “I told you, I just found him in an alleyway, in the rain, with those bruises and scars all over him, and his ribs are broken—“

“His ribs are broken?!” Kristin yelled.

 Phil clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shush, he’ll hear you!” he hissed. Kristin rolled her eyes and he felt something warm touch his palm.

“Ew, did you just lick me?!” he yelled. Kristin laughed. He lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist, making pretend chewing noises into her ear. She giggled and turned her head to kiss him. He leaned into the kiss, then pulled away and rested his head on her shoulder.

“Okay, but seriously,” he said, “we need to figure out what to do about him.”

Kristin sighed. “Look, he’s obviously been abused or something. We should at least take him to the hospital or doctor’s and get him taken care of, they can probably figure out more than we can.”

“And then?”

“Then we contact CPS and let them handle things. We can’t just send him back to the streets, Phil.”

“I never said we were going to!” he said, hugging her tighter. “I think contacting CPS is a great idea, but do they even take kids his age?”

“He can’t be older than 15. And if he is too old. . .” Kristin hesitated, not knowing what they would do in that situation.

Phil kissed her softly on the cheek and she hummed quietly. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy returned to find the couple cuddled up on each other on the bed. He sat down on the floor, watching their body language warily. They didn’t seem upset, so he relaxed onto the carpet. 

“Okay, Tommy,” Kristin said. “We’re going to ask some questions, and you can answer or stay silent, you choose. Then you can ask us some, okay? Or do you want to go first?”

Tommy shrugged, lowering his gaze to the floor. This was gonna suck.

“Okay. First of all, how old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Tommy fiddled with the carpet for a moment, then asked, “Where am I?”

There was a beat, then Phil answered, “Our house. . .”

“Amsterdam,” Kristin said, seeing the confusion on his face. “Netherlands. Where do you live?”

Tommy pulled out a strand of carpet. “The Essempí. What’s a Netherlands?”

There was silence. He glanced up. The couple were staring at him, brows furrowed. Had he said something wrong?

“Essempí. Where is that? Is that a city?”

Phil spoke up right after his wife. “You don’t know the Netherlands? How can you not know an entire country?!”

“To be fair, it’s not very well known to some parts of the world,” Kristin shrugged. “Although his accent sounds British. . .”

Tommy hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, I—I don’t know those words. What’s a Hamsterdam? And British? And, um, country?”

They gaped at him. Tommy rubbed his wrist under the uncomfortable silence. 

“We’ll. . . come back to that.” Phil said awkwardly. “What about your family? Do you have any parents?”

“Parents?” 

“You know, a mom? Or dad? Or another legal guardian?”

Tommy thought for a moment, then nodded. “Guardian is like a protector, or owner, right? So I guess Fai is my guardian.”

“Fai?” Kristin asked. “Is that a first or last name?”

“Last. His full name is Sadto Fai. I don’t know his middle name. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I forget names all the time,” Phil said. “So. . . Is Fai your dad? Or uncle?”

Tommy decided they were testing him and ignored the unfamiliar words. “Um. . . he’s my permanent consumer.”

“Consumer?! Is he eating you?!” Phil practically yelled. 

Tommy flinched back at the sudden volume, snapping his eyes shut. Fai Fai Fai Fai 

“Phil!” Kristin hissed. “Tommy, you haven’t asked anything for a while. Got a question?”

He hesitated a moment, rubbing his wrist, making Fai’s face leave his vision. Then, he opened his eyes, just a slit. “Are you. . . a-are you Enderians or Elytrians?”

There was silence, and instantly Tommy regretted the question. Of course they were Elytrians, how dare he think otherwise, they were going to punish him but not kill him, just barely not kill him, discard him, maybe, suck all his magic out and refuse to give him the comforts of  pain and and and

His eyesight began to fuzz, black creeping into his peripheral vision. His wrist started to burn and pulse but not with pain, with warmth the same way it had when Fai was trying to kill him and—

“What the hell is happening?!”

Tommy jumped and lifted his eyes. Kristin and Phil were frozen in place, eyes wide. Purple particles floated around the room, sparkling and hissing when they made contact with anything.

“Y-you’re using your p-powers,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, you’re Elytrians, I shouldn’t have a-asked, you’re using your powers. . .”

Kristin blinked, an odd glazed look in her eyes. “Tommy, we don’t know what Elytrians are, we don’t have powers, magic doesn’t— shouldn’t exist, this is— Tommy, where are we?! Where are you?!”

Tommy stared at the wall, then nearly got whiplash looking down at his hands. Purple light was seeping from the pinprick dots on his wrists, letting tiny particles drift from his skin. He yelped, then slammed his hands over his mouth, watching Phil and Kristin’s faces. Their faces scrunched in confusion, but their gazes remained blank and clouded.

“No no no,” he said, panicking, “stop it, stop it. . . I’m sorry, sir, ma’am, you’re probably seeing the Essempí, I didn’t mean to start using my power, I’ve never used it before—“

Tommy hesitated. Or. . . probably he had, back on the bridge. That must have been what made Fai drop him. Tommy rubbed his wrists, trying to stop the purple glow.

“Hold up!” Phil shouted. Tommy flinched. “You have FUCKING POWERS?!”

“PHIL!” Kristen yelled. “DON’T YELL AT HIM!”

“We’re in a fucking alternate dimension, Kristin, I think I have every right to be alarmed!!”

“Well you shouldn’t scream at him!”

“You’re not actually on the Essempí, if that makes you feel better. The receptionist describes me as an illusion species, not a teleportation one. Sir. A-and ma’am.” Tommy said nervously. 

The violet light began to fade suddenly, the purple particles disappearing. Phil and Kristin blinked a few times, then stared at Tommy. He flushed and ducked his head, ready to be scolded or punished. 

“Well,” Phil said weakly. “How about we start over, mate, and you tell us all about exactly where you’re from?”

Chapter Text

Tommy squinted at the cube of a building in front of him. Pediatric center. Phil and Kristin had said it was some sort of place to help with his injuries, similar to the healing stations in the Essempí.

Kristin put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched. She pulled her hand back immediately. “Sorry, forgot you didn’t like that.”

Tommy forced his muscles to relax and went back to staring at the reflection-less black street. “‘S okay.”

Phil and Kristin had given him permission to speak whenever he wanted after the interrogation last night. It was. . . nice.

They entered the building. Phil and Kristin led him to the—

The receptionist looked down her nose at him, sneering. “God, it’s disgusting. You’ll have to chip off layers of dust before you reach any skin underneath. What were you doing ?”

The man snorted, gripping Tommy’s arm tightly. “This one’s a fighter. It managed to escape for an hour before we got it under control. How long does the branding take, again?”

“Thirteen hours,” the receptionist drawled. “After that we’ll ship it off to the laboratories to figure out its species before it’s sent to the apartment.”

Tommy struggled against the man, flailing his fists wildly and snapping his teeth at the hand on his arm. The man squeezed him harder, making him shriek in pain.

“Tell the labs to do an extra training session on it, I don’t want it misbehaving when it’s sold.”

“LET ME GO!” Tommy screamed, tears running down his face. “LET ME GO, I’M NOT YOURS, LET ME GO, LET ME GO—”

“Tommy! Tommy!”

There was a hand on his arm, he wanted it off, it hurt, it hurt—

“Tommy!”

He gasped, opening his eyes, and was immediately met with Phil’s startling blue irises. Tommy threw his hands up, covering his face. Not now, not here, with people staring at him, he had really fucked up this time, they hated him they were going to kill him in this — pedriatic’s center, and the hand was on his back now but it didn’t hurt, it didn’t hurt, god why didn’t it hurt?!

“Yyyyyep,” an unfamiliar voice said. “That’s definitely a trauma response.”

Tommy peeked through his fingers. The man— man behind the desk was looking at him with scrunched-up eyebrows. The strange expression was mirrored on Phil and Kristin’s faces. 

“You alright, mate?” Phil said softly. “You’re okay, you’re safe, we’re just going to get you into a room to have someone look at you. Is that okay, or do you want to go back to our house?”

Tommy nodded slowly, embarrassed. He shakily pushed himself to his feet, trying to think about anything but the hand on his arm touching touching but not hurting— no. Focus on the floor. It was polished and clean and just slightly reflective enough for him to see the shapes of people coming near him.

Phil and Kristin and the receptionist escorted him to a small, plain room. Tommy shut his eyes as they entered, as the floor changed to carpet and he couldn’t tell if there was anyone there or not.

“Here we go, just sit here, okay?” Kristin said, guiding him to a chair. Tommy started to sit, then realized there were only two chairs and sat on the ground instead. 

“Dr. Ponk will be here in a minute,” the receptionist said, “in the meantime Sam will get you guys started with some basic questions.”

“Thanks,” Phil said warmly. Tommy kept his gaze on the ground as the receptionist left and was immediately replaced by another man.

“Hey, Phil, Kristin,” the man— probably Sam— greeted. “Another adoption?”

Kristin and Phil settled down on the floor with Tommy, for some reason, ignoring the chairs. “Not. . . quite,” Kristin said, a hint of awkwardness in her voice. “It’s a special situation.”

“Of course,” Sam says easily. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

He was allowed to speak to Phil and Kristin, but was he allowed to now? He was clearly expected to, but it could be a test, a trap. . . Oh. The room was quiet. They were waiting for him. 

“Tommy,” he whispered. No one got angry, so that must have been the right response. 

“Tommy. Your voice sounds hoarse, do you have a cold?” Sam asked. 

Tommy shook his head. There wasn’t really a way he could own a cold, so probably he had been asking if Tommy was cold, which he wasn’t. Earth was weird.

Sam rattled off a list of more confusing questions, with weird words like symptoms and allergies and medications . Tommy let Phil and Kristin answer for him, and only nodded when addressed directly. 

Finally, Sam changed course. “Now, I’m gonna have to ask you guys to leave for a minute, I want to ask Tommy a few things in private if that’s okay.”

Phil and Kristin exchanged looks, then nodded and left the room, smiling reassuringly at Tommy. He smiled back, but panicked internally as the door closed behind them and Sam turned his full attention to Tommy.

“Hey,” Sam said quietly, leaning forward. “Are you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Tommy picked at the carpet and nodded.

Sam hummed. “Nothing you say will leave this room. Phil and Kristin don’t have to know about any of this, okay? Now, can you tell me about those bruises on your neck?”

Tommy’s fingers flitted up to his collar. Phil had said he could remove it, but his neck felt bare without it, and the leather rubbing against his neck stung where Fai had held him. “It’s nothing, just my last. . . guardian.”

Sam’s eyebrows crinkled together. Why did everyone keep making that face? “They hurt you?”

The carpet was interesting, all crusty and flat on the ground. “Uh, yeah, he, uh— I ran away, and he hurt me, and then I fell and Phil found me.”

“I see,” Sam said. “Do you feel safe with Phil and Kristin?”

Tommy frowned. What is that supposed to mean? “Yes? They’re. . . nice.”

Sam smiled. “They are pretty nice, aren’t they?” His face took on a more serious expression. “It wasn’t your fault that you were hurt. I’m sorry that happened to you. If you need help, don’t hesitate to tell any of the doctors here, okay?”

Tommy nodded, confused. Sam smiled and closed his laptop, then let Phil and Kristin back in and left.

Tommy was alone with Phil and Kristin. They sat quietly, then— “I didn’t tell him about my magic,” Tommy whispered.

Kristin let out a breath. “That’s good, bud. It’s not bad that you have magic, we just can’t have people knowing you’re from another world. It’s not. . . what we’re used to, and it would make people freak out if they knew you had powers.”

Tommy hummed and leaned back against the wall. They had spent hours yesterday talking and explaining their different worlds, how Tommy had gotten here, and the customs and oddities of “Netherlands”. Eye contact here meant you were paying attention. Everyone talked whenever they wanted to. There was no magic, no Enderians, no Elytrians, everyone was for the most part equal.

There were other things, too, that Tommy had picked up without them having to tell him about, things such as the white ball of light that came up this morning and painted the void with red and pink and golden ribbons of color before relinquishing its display of colors to bleed into a soft, light blue. Such as hovering grey smudges in the distance like someone had taken a crumb of charcoal and blended the void together to make it darker, a thing that Phil had talked with Kristin about, a thing called “weather” and “clouds”. Tommy had spent the entire drive here staring at this world, and the “music” Kristin had put on still rang through his head. It was an ethereal, unfamiliar sound that wrapped around his exhausted mind.

The door clicked open and another man stepped in. Tommy’s gaze landed on his arm. It was bright red and glinted in the light. Metal arm? 

The doctor noticed him staring. “Not what you expected, huh? Lost it a few years ago. Got a robot replacement.” 

Tommy nodded, impressed. That was fucking cool, why didn’t his world get metal limbs whenever there was an accident? 

Ponk sat down on his stool and logged in to the computer. “Alright, we’re just going to do a basic check-up to start, is that right?” Kristin gave a confirmation nod. “Cool cool, and we’re also going to check out all those bruises and cuts and stuff, make sure everything’s fine.”

Phil gestured to the weird bed thing against the wall, and Tommy climbed onto it with some difficulty, trying not to damage his ribs. The paper on the bed crinkled under his fingers. He did not like this. 

Ponk scooted his stool over and lifted the y-shaped rope thing from around his neck. He plugged two ends into his ears and laid the circular part on Tommy’s chest. “Breathe in,”

He was already breathing? Tommy looked at Phil in confusion. He took a huge inhale, dramatically puffing up his chest. Tommy mimicked the breath, then exhaled with him. Ponk hummed and moved the circle to another part of his chest. 

This went on for a short while, then Ponk removed the rope and placed it back around his neck. “Okay, so I can hear some crackling from his chest, which we definitely don’t want. Other than that, his breathing is pretty good, just a little labored.”

“Ah! We forgot about that!” Kristin said, clapping her hands over her mouth. “His ribs are broken!”

Ponk stared at them for a while, then dragged his hand down his face. “Okay. Usually broken bones are the first things you mention. How long ago were they broken?”

Tommy dug his fingers into the paper. “Since yesterday?”

Ponk nodded, and wheeled his stool back over to the computer to type something in. “Okay, so pretty recently. For broken ribs we don’t want to bandage or splint the area or anything, just limit strenuous activity, and if they become too painful you can apply some ice to the area, and I’m also going to prescribe you some painkillers.”

Painkillers . Sounded like. . . Extra painful. Pain so intense it could kill you. Pog?

Ponk finished typing and pulled yet another strange tool from a drawer. He fiddled with it for a moment, then scooted close to Tommy. “Look straight ahead, please.”

Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. “Look u-up?”

“Yeah. I’m just gonna check your eyesight real quick.”

Tommy bit his lip. It was okay in this world. Real quick, he’d said. It was okay. 

Tommy looked up and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall.

Ponk brought the tool directly up to his face.

They had tied him down because he had fought. He was not the first. The restraints were permanent and adjustable. He was still fighting with the little strength he had, flailing and straining against his bonds.

A man put his hands on the sides of Tommy’s head, holding him in place. Through his tear-blurred eyes, he was nothing more than a white blotch.

The other man stepped close to the table. He was holding a skinny metal tube.

“Hold it still.”

The light above him projected a purple light onto his cheek. Tommy sobbed and begged to deaf ears.

“How long do I have to hold its head again?” The man in white drawled.

“He’s having a panic attack, most likely from some form of ptsd. . .”

“Just a few hours, then we throw it in the furnace room with the others to let it set.”

“A few hours?! I’m not going to hold it for that long!”

“You applied for this job, you got it, you do it. Stop complaining.”

“Take deep breaths for me, bud. Like this, see?”

The machine in the man’s hand buzzed to life, the lavender-tipped needle coming slowly closer and closer to his face. Tommy screamed through his gag, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and into his ears. The needle grew in his vision, coming just right below his eye—

“Tommy, deep breaths.”

His teeth punctured his lip and it started bleeding again. He dug his palms into his eyes, gasping for air that refused to exist. 

“Breathe with me, remember, mate?” He turned his head. Phil stood by the bed, taking exaggerated breaths. Tommy tried to copy him, but choked and buried his face in his hands again. Don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact—

“You’re okay, you’re safe,” Ponk said. He reached out his robot arm and gently rubbed Tommy’s knee. Tommy’s focus immediately zeroed in on the feeling of contact and he took a shuddering breath in. As he exhaled tears pricked his eyes and he quickly wiped them away, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“That’s okay,” Ponk said, patting his knee. “Lots of people cry. I didn’t know you were sensitive to things by your eyes, otherwise I wouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Lies lies lies lies lies . Tommy hunched his shoulders. He shouldn’t have panicked like that. He shouldn’t have remembered that, it was supposed to be gone, blocked away. . .

“How about we move on?” Phil suggested. 

Ponk nodded, stepping back. “Sure. Tommy, do you want to take off your shirt for me so we can check your bruises and scrapes?”

Tommy nodded, anxiety turning to embarrassment. He slid off the bed and undid his tunic, humming happily at the slight stab of pain in his ribs. 

He dropped the tunic to the ground, and the room went silent. 

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Kristin almost threw up when Tommy took off his top. Bruises covered his skin in patches, in varying stages of healing, turning his torso into a horrible display of purples, yellows, blacks, and greens. Scars tracked across his shoulders, down his arms, over his stomach. . .

Anger took over her as she realized someone had done this to him. A person, a human, had hurt him. Those scars weren’t fresh, this abuse had been going on for years . 

Ponk took a deep breath. “I’ll admit, Tommy, this is the worst case I’ve seen in. . . well, in my entire career.” He tried to force a laugh, but it was empty in the situation.

Kristin grabbed Phil’s clenched fist, opening it up so they were gripping each other’s hands. There was nothing to be said.

“Eleven, thirteen. . .” Ponk counted. “Eighteen. Okay, eighteen bruises on the front, and five scars. Can you turn for us?”

Tommy nodded, and, keeping his eyes on the ground, slowly turned so his back was facing them.

Kristin clapped her hand over her mouth. Next to her, Phil’s face went ashen white and he ran to the trash can, heaving.

There, on Tommy’s back, were two symmetrical stumps like. . . like he had. . . wings. And someone had ripped them out.

Ponk reached out to touch the stumps, but stopped his hand at the last second. “What. . . How. . .”

Kristin stood up, rage coursing through her veins. “Tommy,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm, “who the fuck did this to you.”

Chapter Text

Tommy stared at the paper in front of him, typed with neat paragraphs with far too many long words. 

“Forest care?” He read slowly.

“Foster,” Phil quickly corrected. “Foster care. We wanted to discuss it with you.”

Tommy skimmed through the page. “You want. . . to give me to a different owner?”

Kristin set a mug down next to him. “No, no, not an owner, a family. Phil and I have our kids coming home in a week from their summer camps, and we don’t have a room you can stay in. You’ve been sleeping in Wil’s room, but once he comes back. . .”

Tommy took the mug and took a sip. Warm sweetness ran down his throat. “So I’m going back to the alleyway?”

“No!” Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, mate, we’re not abandoning you , you’ll go to a different family, you’ll be taken care of, you’ll get to have your own bedroom. . . you might even have siblings, doesn’t that sound nice?”

Tommy chewed on his lip. It didn’t sound nice. He liked it here, but as long as it made them happy. . . “Yeah, okay.”

It was the right answer. Phil and Kristin visibly relaxed. “Alright, we’ll get you all set up for that. You’ll leave in a few days, is that okay?” Kristin ruffled his hair, and he forced himself not to flinch away at the unexpected touch.

“Sure,” Tommy muttered. He raised the mug again, taking a large gulp.

Later, alone in a room he had started calling home, he cried.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

His social worker did not like him.

He didn’t have to see his face to know that the man was taking in his scrawny frame, his too-big borrowed clothes. He could feel disgust radiating off the man in waves. It reminded him of Fai.

“Hi!” Phil said warmly. “You must be Schlatt. I’m Phil Watson.”

“Pleasure,” Schlatt said gruffly. “I’ve got a little bit more paperwork for you to fill out, then I’ll take Tommy off your hands.”

Tommy smiled, worried about what exactly the man meant by that. He wanted to make chirping noises, try to get Schlatt to like him more, but Phil had said that wasn’t normal here.

“Tommy,” Kristin whispered from behind him. “Can I talk to you before you go?”

Tommy nodded and let her pull him into the living room. Kristin knelt down, and Tommy closed his eyes.

A thumb brushed over his eyelids gently. “Tommy, you’re very special. Phil and I have done everything we could to make you feel comfortable here. It can’t be easy, being in another world. But your next family might not understand that. You have to promise me you’ll keep your powers a secret, Tommy. I don’t want you getting hurt. Work on getting better, but don’t let people see your scars, okay?”

Tommy nodded. There was a lump in his throat he was trying to ignore. He didn’t want to go, but it had to be done. . .

Kristin wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Tommy stiffened. What was this, it was making his ribs hurt a little, he hadn’t taken his pills this morning, was she showing him he wasn’t going to be discarded, she— oh. It was over. Kristin stood up and ruffled his hair.

Schlatt and Phil stepped out of the kitchen. A stack of papers was gripped loosely in Schlatt’s hand. “Ready?”

Tommy nodded, stepping away from Kristin. Phil handed him his plastic bag with his new toiletries. “I put a goodbye gift in there for you,” he whispered, patting Tommy’s shoulder gently. Tommy just nodded, clutching the bag closer and pulling away from the touch.

Schlatt jerked his head at the door. Tommy raised his head for one last glance around the house, then walked heavily out to the cherry-red car and got in the backseat. 

“All right, bud, let’s get you to your new home,” Schlatt said. He turned on some music, a harsh, grating song that was more yelling than singing. 

Tommy leaned his head against the glass and watched Phil and Kristin’s house recede into the distance.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

There was another boy in the house. His social worker had said he was Tommy’s age and was also a foster child. The couple had started fostering him a few months ago and were willing to take another.

Schlatt’s nails dug into his shoulder in the entryway of the house. “Be good.”

Tommy nodded. He knew how to be good. The hand squeezed him, giving him a slight reassurance of pain, then Schlatt was gone, leaving him standing in front of his new owners.

“Hey!” The woman greeted him. “Tommy, right? I’m Anna, and this is Lucas. We’re happy to have you here.”

Tommy put his best smile on and lowered his head respectfully. “Thanks.”

“Come in, we’ll tell you the rules and then Tubbo can give you a tour,” Luca said. He stuffed his hands into a weird hole in the middle of his shirt and walked Tommy into the kitchen.

Tommy sat on a stool at the counter. The kitchen was very different from Phil’s. Instead of a wooden floor, it was black and white tiles, and the counter was attached to the wall instead of standing alone in the middle. 

Anna leaned against the wall, picking at her fingernails. “The rules here are pretty simple, but if you have any questions feel free to ask them. First of all, be respectful. Don’t purposefully damage our furniture or property, especially my flowerbeds out front. Don’t leave the house without our permission, but if you do leave, curfew is eight thirty. Do you have a phone?”

Tommy shook his head, biting back the question of what a phone was. Already he was confused, ‘curfew’ and ‘flowerbeds’ being more words he was unfamiliar with. He’d have to rely on context to help him, and if he made a mistake, well, he could take the punishment.

“Alright. We’ll give you an allowance of ten euros a month, and if you do extra chores we’ll pay you more. That way, you can save up to buy yourself a phone,” Luca said. “Until then, we expect you to memorize our phone numbers in case of an emergency.”

Tommy nodded. What the fuck are euros?

“Don’t wear your shoes in the house, don’t bother me while I’m working in the garden, don’t enter our rooms without knocking. . .” Anna listed on her fingers. “Don’t get into the medicine cabinet, try to keep showers fifteen minutes or less, you only get thirty minutes of screen time, not including watching movies or watching someone else play. I think that’s pretty much it. Any questions?”

He had an absolute plethora of questions, but he decided to keep it simple and asked, “Am I allowed to leave my room?”

Luca scoffed. “Uh, what is this, a prison? Yeah, you can leave. Just tell us if you’re heading out.”

“Oh, right, s-sorry, it was a stupid question.” Tommy hunched his shoulders and stared at his shoes.

“You’ll be sharing a room with Tubbo,” Anna said. “He’s a foster, too. We’re going on a date tonight, but he’ll give you a tour of the house while we’re gone. Chicken’s in the freezer.”

She started putting on a pair of boots and dark red coat the same shade as the blossoms outside. Luca held the door open for her, then turned and whistled into the house. “TUBBO! COME GIVE TOMMY A TOUR!”

Luca winked at him, then shut the door and got into the car parked on the white stone. The car woke up, and the couple drove away.

Tommy shifted, unsure what to do. Suddenly, a green blur jumped down the stairs and tackled him to the ground. Tommy grunted. Pain pain pain poggers good pain good.

“YOOOO!” Tommy’s vision focused to see a wide grin under a mop of fluffy brown hair over him. “You’re here!”

Tommy smiled weakly. “Ribs. . . broken. . .”

“Oh! Sorry!” The boy scrambled off of him and helped him to his feet. “Sorry, I got excited. I’ve never been in the same house as another foster, usually it’s just the biological kids, and they aren’t really the best siblings, y’know?”

Tommy stared at him, feeling very awkwardly out of place. “I, er. . . Tubbo, I presume?”

“You ‘presume’ right! My real name’s Toby, but no one’s called Toby. So I just go by Tubbo.”

 “I’m Tommy,” Tommy said, then regretted it. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, Tubbo would already know who he was after all.

To his surprise, however, Tubbo just grinned and tugged on his sweater. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Cool tatt by the way, how’d they get such vibrant ink?”

Tommy touched the dragon under his eye. “It’s magic.” Then he remembered what Kristin had said and quickly corrected himself. “I mean, uh, that is to say, it’s. . . fake? It’s not actually a tattoo.”

“Oh, cool,” Tubbo said, and left it at that. “So this is the entryway, of course, living room’s to the right, kitchen straight through there. The door in the kitchen leads to the garage, but there aren’t any cars in there because it’s so full of junk. Do you wanna go upstairs or downstairs first?”

“Um. . . Upstairs?”

“Right. So that’s Anna and Luca’s room, don’t go in there without their permission, they’re super strict about knocking and stuff. Bathroom’s there, it locks from the outside, but you can shove towels under the door if you want privacy, except the bee towel, that one’s mine. And here’s our room!” Tubbo flung his arm out dramatically.

The first things Tommy noticed were the beds. They were stacked on top of each other like bricks, with a ladder to the top one. It was clear that Tubbo slept on the bottom one from the rumpled sheets and bee plushy on the pillow.

“That’s a bit dangerous, innit?” Tommy asked hesitantly. “I mean, what if the bed falls over onto the person underneath?”

“Oh, it’s all screwed in,” Tubbo said, flinging himself onto the lower mattress. “I sleep on the bottom because it’s easier access, but don’t worry, I won’t get mad if you squash me.”

Tommy bit his lip. That had to be a lie. Nobody would be happy at being squashed, and since he was the one on top it would probably be his fault.

“Don’t look so serious!” Tubbo laughed. “It was a joke! Seriously, it’s fine. Here, put your stuff down and we’ll move on.”

Tommy set the plastic bag down on the floor, confused at the soft bump it made instead of his toiletries jangling around.

All in all, the house had two bedrooms, four bathrooms, a storage room, a television room, a kitchen that was attached to the dining room, two living rooms, an attic, and an office. 

After the tour, Tubbo cooked up the chicken (twice because the first time he pulled them out they were raw), and Tommy found himself becoming strangely fond of the fellow foster. He had a certain positivity and quirkiness about him that made Tommy smile more than once, not to please him, but in genuine happiness.

Eventually, Luca and Anna came home, and they were sent to bed. Upon opening the plastic bag, Tommy found a short note and a small plushy of a black and white animal with soft fur.

Tommy, hope you find a good home. You’ve been through so much, stay positive mate. Hold this cow whenever you need a friend.

-Phil

Tommy lifted the ‘cow’ reverently from the bag. He had never been allowed to keep anything so soft and squishy as this. He tucked it under his armpit and carefully climbed up the ladder to his bed. The mattress squeaked, but true to Tubbo’s word, it didn’t fall. He laid the cow next to his pillow. 

I’ll call you Henry, he decided.

Chapter Text

Tubbo quickly became Tommy’s favorite person in the whole house. He was bright and patient with Tommy, not questioning when Tommy asked him to explain what words meant. 

Anna and Luca didn’t get angry, either, they just gave him weird looks. When Tommy had asked them what a shoelace was, they had huffed and ignored him, but Tubbo had knelt down and showed him how to tie the flattened string. 

Tubbo was also apparently obsessed with touching. He tried not to, after Tommy flinched the first few times he squeezed him (which Tommy now knew was called a ‘hug’), but still Tubbo would pat his arm or play with his hair without realizing it. Tommy let him do it because it made Tubbo happy. Not because it made chills run up and down his back and warmth creep into his chest. 

It was a massive surprise, however, when he woke up to Tubbo sleeping next to him. 

Tommy froze, staring at the boy in his bed. How had he not noticed Tubbo climbing up here? One arm was draped over his chest, and he was hugging him like Tommy was his stuffed bee. 

What the hell am I supposed to do?! Tommy thought, panicking slightly. Was this normal? They weren’t allowed to even touch each other in the apartments, let alone sleep together!

Luckily, Tubbo stirred and sat up, yawning. His hair was squashed flat on one side and his cheek had lines in it from where it pressed against Tommy’s shirt.

“Oh,” he said sleepily. “Good morning. You had a nightmare last night, so. . .”

“Ah.” Tommy shifted around, cramped. “Could you. . .”

“Yeah sure, bossman,” Tubbo said. He swung his legs over the ladder and jumped off.

Tommy gasped and lunged for the rail, peering down only to see Tubbo brushing himself off like nothing had happened.

“Come on, try it!” He beamed. “It’s fun!”

Tommy chewed on his lip anxiously. “Does it hurt?”

“Only a little. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”

“It’s fine,” Tommy said. “I like pain.”

He mimicked Tubbo, launching himself over the rail and landing on the floor. Pain shot up his ankles, then was gone. He hummed happily and gave a smile to Tubbo. . .

Who had an expression of utter bafflement on his face.

“What do you mean you like pain?! ” He whispered. 

Tommy hesitated. “Uh. . . nevermind, I hate pain?”

“What?” Tubbo said, coming up to him. “Tommy, you—“

“Will you two stop thumping around?!” They turned to see Luca standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Were you jumping off of the bunk bed again?”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy said, ducking his head. 

“It was my idea, sir, sorry!” Tubbo quickly said.

Luca frowned and marched over, grabbing Tubbo by his shoulder. “Ten minutes in the bathroom. Don’t do it again.”

“Yes, sir.” Luca steered Tubbo into the bathroom, then shut the door. Now Tommy knew why the lock was on the outside.

Luca gave him a cold glare. “You’ll be skipping breakfast today. Behave yourself.”

Tommy nodded, chirping for him. Luca made a sound of disgust and walked away.

Immediately, Tommy went to the bathroom door. “Tubbo?”

“Hey, bossman! Don’t worry, they just lock me in here for a bit when I misbehave. It’s. . . I mean, it’s definitely sus, but there’s nothing we can really do about it, so. . .”

Tommy frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tubbo began shoving squares of toilet paper under the door. “Well, like. . . Anna and Luca aren’t really. . . good fosters, but they’re friends with our social worker, so they get away with a lot of stuff.”

Tommy sat down on the carpet. “Um. . . what sort of stuff?”

Tubbo hesitated. “How long have you been in the system?”

Tommy tore up a square of toilet paper. “Like. . . foster care? This is my first house I’ve been fostered in.”

Tubbo took a deep breath. “Oh. Um. . . it’s just not. . . a great house.”

“Okay?” Tommy stared at the door. “You don’t have any entertainment in there, don’t you get bored?”

Tubbo snorted. “Well, that’s what they think. I’ve got plenty to do in here, don’t worry. Do you think I should make a sink lake for the Benson or paint my nails?”

“Benson?”

“My rubber duck. I got him in my first foster home.”

“Oh.” Well, that didn’t explain anything. “How do you paint your nails?”

“Oh my god!” Tubbo said excitedly. “You’ve never painted your nails?! Stick them through the crack under the door, I’ll get Anna’s polish!”

Tommy eyed the bottom of the door. He could just see the line where the carpet turned into linoleum. He shrugged and shoved his hands under as far as they would go, so that his fingers were poking out onto Tubbo’s side.

“Okay, do you want a red or white background?” Tubbo said.

“Either is fine.”

There was a small clink of glass. “You can’t make me choose! Argh. How about. . . We do both! Okay, hold still, it’ll feel cold and weird.”

Something touched Tommy’s fingernail and he froze.

The box is taking again, the rubber won’t let go until it’s full, pain comes, pain pain pain. . .

“Wow, your hands are really still!” Tubbo said.

Tommy shook his head. His breath was coming too quickly, and he looked around frantically. Safe, I’m in the Nether land, I’m with Tubbo, Tubbo’s here, Tubbo’s here. . .

Tommy hit his head against the door. But Ranboo’s still there, he’s still there, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone —

The tingling on his fingers paused. “You good?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, wincing at the way his voice cracked. “I just remembered my friend before. . . Not that you aren’t my friend! B-but I don’t know where he is, or if he’s okay, or if he’s still. . .”

“Oh,” Tubbo said softly. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Tommy took a deep breath. “You can keep going.”

The cold tingling resumed. “Do you want. . . To tell me about him?”

Tommy nodded, although he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, yeah, he was super tall, like absolutely massive , so he would always hit his head on the ceiling when he got out of bed, and he had like this cool skin thing where half of him was a different tone of skin. . .”

He rambled on and on about Ranboo, about the time he had taken a rare wilted flower from the ground outside the apartment when his consumer wasn’t looking, and had given the flower to Tommy, who hid it under his mattress until it became flattened and dried. About the time Ranboo had stretched and accidentally broken the screen above his bed. About the time Ranboo had given him his blanket when he was sick. 

And Tubbo just listened. He made a small noise of confirmation that he was paying attention now and then, but mostly he stayed quiet and continued working on Tommy’s nails.

After a while, Tubbo finished and started blowing on Tommy’s nails.

“It’s been more than ten minutes,” Tommy noted.

“Yeah, they usually just lock me up and leave for work. You can pull your hands back now, they’re dry.”

Tommy’s fingers were patterned red with white stripes down the centers of each nail. His thumbs had little black circles on them.

“They’re music discs,” Tubbo said proudly. “They’re from the olden days, you’d put them on a machine called a phonograph and it would spin them around and make music. Whaddaya think?”

“They’re amazing,” Tommy said, beaming. “My hands have never looked so good.”

Tubbo giggled. “I’d better clean up the nail polish now. You can go do whatever, Anna and Luca might get mad if they see you still here when they come home.”

“Wait, here.” Tommy stood up and examined the lock on the door, then twisted it the opposite way Luca had. There was a small click, then Tommy opened the door to let Tubbo out.

Tubbo gaped at him for a moment, then a mischievous grin crept over his face. “Bloody hell, Tommy, we are going to do so much while they’re gone.”

Chapter Text

Tommy quickly figured out the rules at the foster home. Not the house rules that they had told him when he first arrived, but the unspoken regulations that were implied behind Anna and Luca’s glares and punishments.

They were startlingly similar to those of the Essempí. Don’t speak back. Don’t interrupt. Don’t appear too energetic, especially when they’re tired. Don’t talk at the dinner table, and don’t ask annoying questions. Tommy found himself falling back to his Enderian habits whenever Anna and Luca were around.

When it was just him and Tubbo, however, all rules were promptly forgotten and they went wild. And Anna and Luca left a lot, so there was plenty of trouble to get into while they were gone.

Besides sneaking each other out of the bathroom and stealing food from the pantry, they had figured out the password to the computer by sneakily watching Luca put it in, and they spent hours playing any game they could.

Anna had caught them unlocking the bathroom once, and changed the place of punishment to the attic, with a padlock on the door. That only prompted them to figure out how to pick locks, and it wasn’t long before they were resuming their afternoon games around the house.

Today, Tommy was trying to cook some ramen while Tubbo browsed the videogames on the computer.

“How does ‘Spooky’s jumping massive’ sound?” Tubbo read, squinting at the screen. 

Tommy peeked at the title. “That says Spooky’s jumpscare mansion. And nah, I don’t like the horror games.”

“Okay. . . What about Minecraft?”

“Eh. Sounds like a game for fuckin’ pussies.” Tommy poked at the ramen noodles, unsure why they were clumping together.

“Un- Undey—“ Tubbo leaned closer to the computer. “Undeypail?”

Tommy choked, wheezing. “Undeypail?!”

“Oh— Undertale! Undertale!” Tubbo shouted. “IT SAYS UNDERTALE!”

Tommy bent over, tears streaming down his face from laughter. “OY, YOU WANNA PLAY SOME UN-DEY-PAIL?!”

“No, Tommy!” Tubbo said, burying his head in his hands. “That’s not- it’s Undertale!! Tom— TOMMY THE RAMEN!!”

The pot lid spilled off the top, the water boiling over. Tommy yelled and grabbed the pot handles, accidentally tipping it over onto the floor.

There was a brief pause, then Tubbo and Tommy howled with laughter, collapsing onto the ramen-drenched tile. “Undie-tale and the ramen, innit?!” Tommy wheezed.

“That— doesn’t— make— sense —!” Tubbo said between giggles. 

Tommy dragged his finger across the floor, a sign from the Essempí that he was amused. “I think you need to take a reading class or something.”

“Yeah, I have dyslexia,” Tubbo said, leaning against the cabinets. “It means I can’t read that well, the letters just kind of shift around.”

“The letters shift?” Tommy sat up. “Like they rearrange themselves and make different words?”

“I mean, kind of. Mostly it’s just gibberish though. Like Undeypail.”

“Undeypail,” Tommy snickered. He hesitated, thinking back to Ranboo’s note. “I think I have magic dyslexia?”

“Magic?” Tubbo laughed. “Magic how?”

Tommy froze, realizing his mistake. He’d been doing so well, and now he just had to go and slip up. “N-nothing. Nevermind, it’s probably just normal dyslexia.”

“No, tell me!” Tubbo protested. “What do you mean by magic?”

Tommy picked at a stray soggy noodle. “Um. . . So my friend Ranboo, you remember me telling you about him? Yeah, so he gave me this cool letter once, and it had these weird scratches on it, but then my vision went all wonky and it changed to purple and said a weird message.”

“That doesn’t sound like dyslexia,” Tubbo said. “Dyslexia doesn’t change the color of the words, it just makes them wrong. What did the message say?”

“’The bridge is not the earth, but the end. There is an edge to the void. Take the risk, you will make it.’” Tommy recited. “Probably just gibberish, like you said.”

Tubbo stared at him. “. . . I don’t think that’s gibberish. . . Tommy, can I ask you something?”

Tommy hesitated, then nodded. He trusted Tubbo.

“Where are you from?”

Tommy took a deep breath and stood, already having planned this interaction in his head countless nights. He helped Tubbo to his feet and tugged on his sleeve. “Follow me.”

He led Tubbo to their room and closed the blinds. Tubbo sat on his bed, confused. “Tommy?”

“I need to show you something,” Tommy said, dread climbing up his throat. “But you can’t tell anyone about it. Not Anna or Luca, not my social worker, no one.”

“Of course, bossman,” Tubbo said, wide-eyed. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Yeah, stick your pinky out.”

Tommy obliged. Tubbo wrapped his pinky around Tommy’s, then pulled away. “That means I can’t break my promise, ever.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. Just. . . don’t freak out.”

He sat on the floor and held his hands out in front of him. The pinprick from his last session months ago had scarred over. He let his eyes slide shut and concentrated as hard as he could on his wrists, trying to imagine them glowing.

After a while, Tubbo spoke up. “You look constipated.”

Tommy groaned in frustration, opening his eyes. “It’s not fucking working! I don’t know how it’s supposed to work, it’s not—“

The front door opened downstairs.

Tubbo and Tommy froze, looking at each other.

“Boys, I’m home early!” Anna called. “I’ll come let you out of the attic, Tommy, just let me grab a snack from the kitchen first.”

“The ramen,” Tubbo whispered. 

Tommy nodded, heart sinking. “We left the computer on, too.”

Almost right on cue, Anna yelled up at them from the kitchen. “TUBBO! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!!”

Tubbo and Tommy shot to their feet. “Stay here, she doesn’t know you did anything,” Tubbo said, rushing for the door. 

Tommy followed him, right on his tail. “No, she’ll find out anyways, the attic’s unlocked and we don’t have time to lock it back up.”

Anna was absolutely glowering at the bottom of the stairs. Her glare darkened further at the appearance of Tommy.

“Explain yourselves,” she snapped. “I come home to the computer unlocked, my food on the clean floor, the stove on, water everywhere, and Tommy out of the attic? Unacceptable!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s my fault,” Tubbo said. “I wanted to play a game—“

“No, it’s my fault, I was hungry, I made the ramen—“ Tommy interrupted.

“It was me, I picked the lock and let Tommy out—“

“I helped him do it, punish me—“

“I’ll take the punishment, I was the one who—“

“SHUT UP!” Anna screamed. “Don’t interrupt! Tubbo, storage room! Tommy, attic! NOW!”

They scrambled to obey, rushing in different directions as they hurried to get to their respective rooms. The faster they went, the less angry Anna would be.

Tommy paused in the attic, looking around. The room was full of sealed boxes and dust, with the only light coming from a small round window.

Anna came after him first. She grabbed him by his shirt, kicking his legs out from under him and pinning him to the floor. Tommy’s breath hitched, Fai’s face flashing in his vision.

“You don’t break the rules in this house,” she hissed. “We were kind enough to take you in and take care of you. You’re going to stay up here until you’re ready to be grateful and be a good kid again.”

Pain. The first he’d felt in a while.

She hit him again, making his cheek sting. He knew it was a good thing, but then why did it feel so wrong this time?

He knew the routine. If she was like Fai, she’d stand up and start kicking next. Tommy tried to curl up in a ball, but she put her full weight on his stomach and he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He knew it, he knew this place was just like the Essempí, of course it wouldn’t be any different, it was only a matter of time before they got angry enough and killed him by accident or purposefully, and Phil was wrong—

Purple light sprung up from his wrists as his power activated. Anna fell off him, jaw dropping as her eyes clouded over with lavender smoke. “What in the. . .”

Tommy was up in an instant, running past her and down the stairs, jumping off the last five steps with a resounding BANG. “TUBBO!” He screamed. “TUBBO!”

His foster brother came running from the basement. “Tommy!”

“Tubbo,” Tommy said, “you have to go, she’s mad, she’s gonna hurt you, you have to go—”

“Go?” Tubbo ran with Tommy to their room. “What do you mean, go? We can’t just run away, they’ll find us, we have nowhere to go—”

Tommy grabbed Tubbo’s stuffed bee and shoved it into his backpack. “You’ll figure it out, it’ll be okay, just run, just go!” He pressed the bag against Tubbo’s chest until he took it. 

“What do you mean you ?” Tubbo protested, watching Tommy rush around for the rest of Tubbo’s belongings, grabbing Benson off the dresser. “We’re leaving together, aren’t we? Tommy!”

Tommy bit back a sob and instead walked over to his foster brother, turning his hands so he could see the purple light coming from the pinprick holes in his wrist. “I’m magic, Tubbo, I’m an Enderian. I can’t go, I don’t know how this world works. I have to stay now that she knows, she wasn’t supposed to find out but I couldn’t control it and now she’s gonna hurt you, you have to go while she’s still distracted, I don’t know how long my powers will keep up—”

“You’re magic? ” Tubbo breathed, staring at his wrists. “That’s why— but you—”

The light flickered, then faded. Tommy pushed Tubbo towards the window. “It stopped, you have to go now, hurry!”

Tubbo stuck his hands out, bracing himself against the wall. “She’s going to hurt you! You have to come, too!”

Tommy opened his mouth to argue, but the attic door slammed above them and Anna’s voice reverberated around the house. “TOMMY!”

He let his instincts take over and scurried up the bunk bed ladder, snatching Henry and jumping down just as she appeared in the doorway, belt in hand. 

“Go!” Tommy yelled, scrambling out the window. He ran along the roof, then jumped off into the roses, snapping their stalks. Thorns scratched the bare skin on his arms and neck as he struggled out of the tangled bushes.

Anna let out a shriek, accompanied by a crack! and a shout of pain from above. Tommy backed up, looking up at the open window. “TUBBO?!”

“TOMMY, RUN!” 

“TUBBO—”

“ RUN! ”

Tommy ran.

Chapter Text

Ranboo destroyed the note a day after Tommy left. 

With no windows in the apartment and a fairly common power, Ranboo had no way of knowing what had happened to Tommy other than the tapped gossip in the cafeteria each morning. Some Enderians said they had heard him screaming, arguing with Fai on the bridge before heroically diving into a magical portal. Some said he had killed Fai and then himself. 

Most thought it was more likely that he had been discarded.

Ranboo had wept for Tommy. He had still been weeping when he was summoned to the front lobby, despite not being fully charged.

He took his book with him, examining it in the elevator. The title was scratched out, and he had memorized the whole thing. On the front Tommy had painted in purple calligraphy Do Not Read, and on the inside cover, Mr. Boo’s Memory Book . Ranboo stared at the purple ink, not caring that a few tears landed on the black leather and smudged the beautiful words.

He barely noticed the walk to the desk, the leash clipped around his collar, the stranger leading him through the streets. He did not hear the words spoken to him. He did not feel the blows directed towards his head, arm, and chest.

All that mattered was that Tommy was gone, and it was his fault.

Stupid note. Stupid book. It was probably written by some crazy Enderian to get more people discarded. Ranboo stumbled as his Elytrian began walking up steps. Tommy probably wasn’t going to be discarded, they just did it because he ran off. I got him killed.

He wiped at his nose, glad that they were allowed to cry, although typically the Elytrians preferred smiles. Whoever had made the rules must have known that it was impossible for them to hide all their emotions.

Ranboo’s feet hit a cold surface and he opened his eyes. The hallway here was one long stretch of mirrors on all sides. Ranboo’s stomach plummeted as he realized where he was.

The Elytrian unclipped the leash and walked off. He knew Ranboo wouldn’t try to run. No one ever tried to run. 

The door at the end of the hallway seemed to stretch and distort as he walked slowly towards it. 

A :) was engraved in the doorknob.

Ranboo took a deep breath and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

The room was pitch black, just like last time. By instinct, or perhaps by compulsion, he made his way to the center of the room. He groped around until his hands found a splintered wooden chair, and sat. Even with his long limbs, his feet barely brushed the ground.

Silence.

Ranboo tried to focus on his too-fast breaths, slowing them down. His eyes darted around, searching for any light in the dark. He swore there was something moving around in the room, something in there with him. As soon as his mind caught hold on this idea, he thought he heard panting and the click of nails against the floor. Was that his hair, tickling his neck, or the spindly legs of something crawling on his two-toned skin? Was that the sound of his own breathing, or someone else’s?

He forced himself to stay still. 

He wasn’t even sure if his eyes were still open at this point. The darkness penetrating his eyes slunk around inside his head, filling his mind with fuzzy tension. He was floating in the void, and something cloaked in darkness was watching him. Waiting.

Finally, after hours— days? Of this torture, a lime green smile appeared on the far edge of the room, directly opposite Ranboo. It stayed in place in the darkness even when he blinked.

“Enderian 1696. Ranboo.”

The voice did not belong to the unmoving smiley face. 

“You were roommates with Enderian 1732, Tommy, yes? Speak.”

“Yes,” Ranboo said, his voice barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Are you aware that 1732 has vanished?”

His breath stilled. Tommy. . . wasn’t discarded? A flutter of hope stirred in his chest. “Yes.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“. . .No.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“. . .No, sorry.”

There was silence. The green smile shifted ever-so-slightly closer. 

“You know something.”

A bead of sweat dripped off of Ranboo’s chin. “No.”

“You know where he went.”

“No.”

“You know what he did.”

“No.”

“You know why he ran.”

“. . .I don’t know what happened.” Ran?

“You know something, dammit! Tell us!” Ranboo flinched back from the sudden volume of the voice.

“Hyphae. That’s enough.”

The room went still and cold as though a sudden frost had swept through it. This was the voice of his memories, his nightmares. It had been a while since he had heard it, but it was familiar nonetheless.

“But Dre—“

“ Enough. I will handle this. You are dismissed.”

There was a soft clicking sound, then the room was silent again. Ranboo kept his eyes trained on the smile, feeling somehow that the second rule didn’t apply here.

The smile tilted slightly as it drew closer to Ranboo. Eventually it was close enough for the green light to softly illuminate a porcelain mask over the folds of a flowing robe. 

“Speak.”

Ranboo opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“ Speak. ”

He whimpered quietly. It was all he could do.

The smile righted itself of its tilt. “No matter. I can find him some other way.”

The smile disappeared, once again plunging them into complete darkness. A hand fell heavily on his shoulder. 

“You will be easy to break.”

Chapter Text

Tommy was hungry.

He was hungry, tired, and he had a headache. His clothes were smelly and dirty and he was sure his face wasn’t much better.

Oh, and he had abandoned his best friend.

Tommy put his head in his hands, scrubbing furiously at his eyes even though the tears had stopped flowing hours ago. I’m such a fucking asshole, it was supposed to be me that stayed behind, if I had just been better, we both would have been able to escape. I’m such a fucking idiot, he must hate me if he’s even still alive. I fucking suck. I hate this stupid world with its stupid people and stupid rules. 

I fucking hate this. 

His fingernails dug into the skin on his wrist, opening up some of the dots. Blood oozed between his fingers but he couldn’t feel anything.

He was just. . . tired.

And hungry.

Tommy sat a moment longer in the alley, then took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling back onto the street. The sun had just gone down and everything was blanketed in a cold shade of grey. 

Tommy didn’t care what he looked like. He didn’t care what rules he was breaking. If someone saw him and decided to beat him up, so be it. 

He deserved it.

For now, however, he just wanted some food. The stores were all closed, but a small pink building at the end of the street had its lights still on. With luck, he could slip in as the owner was leaving and help himself to whatever was in there. 

Unfortunately, it seemed luck had deserted him again. Just as soon as he had reached the back door of the store, it swung open, smacking him in the face. It seemed these things had a habit of happening to him. 

“Oh, sorry!” A young girl rushed around the door, freezing when she saw him. “Oh. . . Are you all right?”

Tommy lowered his hand from his nose, saw red on it, and carefully tucked it behind his back, switching Benson to the arm holding Henry against his chest. “‘M fine.”

“Your nose is bleeding,” the girl pointed out, which was rather obvious to Tommy. “Not to mention. . . everything else.”

“Rube,” Tommy scoffed. Fuck rules, if he was attacked, fine. If he was discarded, all for the best. Being respectful was the last thing on Tommy’s mind right now. “‘M fine, okay? I jus’ wanded do sdeal your shid.”

The girl put her hands on her hips. “You wanted to steal from my bakery? You’re openly admitting this? You have ten seconds to tell me why before I call someone.”

“Call sobeone for whad?”

“Obvious child abuse!!” The girl waved her hands in a grand gesture at Tommy. “You’re all cut up and bruised! And no wonder you were trying to steal some food from me, you’re nothing but skin and bones!”

“Da scradches are frob rosebushes, ‘m fine.” Tommy tore off a piece of his shirt and shoved it up his nose, coaxing a look of disgust from the girl. “Look, see? ‘M fine.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Teenage boys, I swear,” she muttered. “Just come inside, I’ll get you some food.”

She turned around and went back inside the bakery. Tommy took the opportunity to hop over a low, colorful wall and run as fast as he could away from the girl. 

Well, that couldn’t have been worse, Tommy thought. 

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy didn’t know where his legs were taking him until he spotted the dark green car parked in a driveway across the street.

Phil’s car.

Tommy squeezed Henry and Benson tighter, cursing his stupidity but continuing to walk to the house. What am I doing, they don’t want me, they don’t like me, they already got rid of me once, they’ll do it again.

But still he staggered to the backyard, ignoring the strange sensation of wet grass under his sore, bare feet. He couldn’t stay here. He just wanted to see Phil and Kristin again.

He curled up on the back porch, back against the door. His vision blurred. I shouldn’t have left him, I shouldn’t have disobeyed, I was supposed to let myself be discarded, I wasn’t even going to be discarded, I should have gone to the emperor it’s all my fault I fucked up I’m a failure I deserve to be discarded anyways just like Purpled and Karl and Fundy and I should have died like all the rest I should’ve been killed by Fai I should have died I should have died I should be dead—

“There is a child on the porch.”

Tommy gasped and scrambled to his feet. A stranger was standing in the doorway, mug in hand, staring down at him.

Fuuuuuck. Wrong house.

“I’m sorry, s-sir, I was just— I just— I’m sorry, I’ll just— I’ll go, I didn’t m-mean to—“

“What. The fuck.” The man said in a monotone voice. “What. The. Fuck.”

Tommy tried to back away, but the man grabbed his hands, turning them over to examine his arms. Henry and Benson dropped to the ground. Tommy’s breath caught, struggling to suck in air.

“S-sir, no, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’m sorry, I promise it won’t happen again, I’m sorry—“

“Shut.”

Tommy shut.

The man rubbed his wrist with his thumb. “What are these dots.”

“N-nothing, they’re nothing, please—“

“Inside. Now.” The man tugged him in the house, steering him to a couch. “Stay.”

And with that, he was alone. From upstairs he heard the man calling out, “Dadza?”

Tommy curled his legs up to his chest, wiping his nose and eyes. He could run right now, should run right now, but the intimidating man seemed like he could easily catch up to him, even with a head start. So instead he tucked his head in his arms and tried desperately to stop crying.

“Tommy?!”

His head shot up. Coming down the stairs in a black robe like an angel was—

“Phil!” Tommy croaked. He dashed over, tackling Phil and burying his face in the soft fabric. Sobs wracked his body as he gripped the man’s robe in tightly clenched fists, not wanting to let go ever, not wanting to let another person go. A hand came up and rested in his hair, drawing a whimper out of him. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, mate, you’re okay. What happened? How did you get here? Why are you covered in scratches?” Phil scratched his scalp gently, and it felt so right even though it didn’t hurt. Why hadn’t they been allowed this, it would have recharged them so much faster. . .

“Tech, will you get Kristin and Wil please?” 

Chapter Text

Techno didn’t expect to find a full-ass teenager on his back porch. He was just heading out to stargaze as usual, and bam. Child. 

At first, he was annoyed. The voices in his head immediately demanded blood, but once the boy stood up, fear pulsing through his too-skinny frame, they changed from chanting E ’s to clamoring shouts of bad, CHILD, help, Technohelp, orphanchild, helpdachild, Technohelp, Technohelp, and so on. He drowned them out, taking the boy inside and fetching Phil because he was not the sort of person to take care of bruised, starving children in the middle of the night, no matter what the voices said.

After getting Phil to the kid, who apparently he knew, Techno tromped back up the stairs, bumping into Kristin, who was on her way down. 

“What’s going on?” She whispered, trying to peer past Techno. 

“Some kid showed up on the back porch, by the name of Tommy. Doesn’t look too good so I brought him in.”

“Tommy?!” Kristin’s eyes widened and she pushed past him, rushing down to the living room.

“Geez, everyone knows this kid but me,” Techno grumbled. He knocked once on the sticker-covered door on his right, then pushed his way in. He grabbed a beanie from the dresser and chucked it as hard as he could at the face of the figure snoring on the bed. “Wake up, Wilbur, there is a child in our house.”

“Wha-huh?” Wilbur snorted, lazily moving the beanie off his head. “Techno?”

“Bruh, get up. Phil and Kristin are downstairs, and there is a possible orphan with them.”

“Orphan?” Wilbur yawned, but finally swung his legs off his bed. He joined Techno at the door, and they started making their way down. 

“The voices?” Wilbur whispered, stopping in the middle of the stairs. 

“Very loud,” Techno said, tuning back in to the clamor inside his mind. “But not bloodthirsty, for some reason. They seem to want me to help him.”

Wilbur nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. Techno rolled his eyes and pulled away, stomping the rest of the way downstairs. “Clingy bitch.”

Phil and Kristin were sitting on either side of the boy, Tommy, murmuring quietly to him. He raised his head as Techno and Wilbur came in, and Wilbur hissed through his teeth at the large bruise on his cheek. Besides that, he also had scratches covering his too-skinny arms and large rips in his clothes. Techno zeroed in on the purple tattoo on the kid’s face, just below his eye. Tommy noticed him staring and quickly glanced away.

“Hey, boys,” Kristin said softly. “Tommy, this is Wilbur and Techno, our sons. Wil and Tech, this is Tommy. We found him in an alleyway a few weeks ago and put him into foster care.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Wilbur ran a hand through his hair anxiously. 

“Tommy is a. . . special case,” Phil said. “We-“

“I’m magic,” Tommy whispered. 

The room went quiet, but Techno’s head roared with a sudden wave of shouts. Magic Tommymagic Magic?! Tommy magic magic magic dragon technohelp magic tommymagic technomagic magic magic help techno tommymagic. Techno winced, a headache beginning to pound at his temples. 

“. . .mean, magic?” Wilbur was saying.

Tommy hunched his shoulders up to his ears. “Nevermind.”

“No, wait!” Wilbur said, “What magic?! How do you have magic?”

“I c-can’t show you right now,” Tommy stammered. “I don’t know how to control it, we weren’t allowed t-to use it, they were discarded. . .” He scrunched up his face and buried it in his arms again. 

Kristin started to rub his back, but stopped when he flinched away. Techno frowned, taking a seat in his favorite chair across from them. “Who was discarded?”

Tommy sniffed. “P-purpled, and Fundy, and. . . and Ranboo-“ his voice cracked. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying, I shouldn’t be here, I just want Tubbo.”

“Who’s Tubbo?” Wilbur and Phil said at the same time. Tommy was sent into another crying fit until finally he raised his head and wiped his nose on his arm.

“Tubbo’s my brother, h-he’s a foster, like me, Hannah got him, it was supposed to be me, I was going to s-stay behind, but he- she got him, I didn’t know she was like that, I didn’t- I’m sorry, you wanted me to stay-“

“Deep breaths, mate,” Phil said. “Do you want to start from the beginning so we can know what’s going on?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath, but nodded and began his story.

The longer Techno listened, the louder and more angry the voices became. What had Kristin thought, giving him to foster care after seeing what it did to Techno?! How had the social worker approved that house?! The voices demanded blood, chanting for him to track down the bastards who had hurt Tommy and repay their sins in justice tenfold. Techno considered it, too, trying to remember where he had put his gun, but a nudge from Wil brought him back to his senses.

As much as he would enjoy beating his foster parents into the ground, that would only cause more problems they didn’t need to worry about right now. 

Tommy finished his story at the moment Techno had found him. He was shaking like a leaf, but his eyes were dry. 

“Holy shit,” Wilbur murmured. No one admonished his language. It fit too well.

“You did so good,” Kristin whispered. Her eyes were red and puffy. “I’m so sorry, Toms, we didn’t mean to put you in that situation. You didn’t deserve that.”

Phil rubbed at his eyes, and Techno knew him well enough to know that he was feeling immensely guilty about sending Tommy away. The voices agreed. “Thank you for sharing, Tommy. I promise we’ll sort this all out in the morning, but for now, I think we all need some sleep. Do you-“

“He can sleep in my room,” Techno interrupted. “I probably won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night anyways.”

Phil nodded, standing up with Kristin. “Thanks, Tech. Tommy, if you ever- just know-“

“Dad,” Wilbur said, coming up and patting his shoulder, “he gets it, let’s go to bed.”

“Right,” Phil said. He cast one last look back at Tommy, then shook his head and headed up the stairs. “‘Night, boys.”

“‘Night,” Techno said. He waited until all three of them were upstairs, then swept to the backyard and picked up Tommy’s fallen toys, brushing them off and bringing them inside. Technosoft, the voices cooed. He paid them no attention.

“Here,” he said, offering them to Tommy. The Enderian gasped and snatched them from his arms, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you.”

Techno turned on his heel. “Follow me, my room’s downstairs.”

He didn’t wait for Tommy to follow him. The voices were loud, too loud, he couldn’t focus with his head stuffed with clashing noises and voices and noise. He slapped his hand against his forehead, groaning. 

“Come on,” he growled, shoving his way into his room. The voices scolded him for being so harsh, but it only worsened his headache.

Tommy stared down at the floor, flinching when Techno closed the door. He sighed, climbing into his hammock and picking up a fidget toy from the windowsill. The voices quieted down to a murmur in his mind. 

“You’re from the Essempí,” Techno said softly. It wasn’t a question.

Tommy nodded, slowly squeezing and releasing the duck night-light. 

“The End.”

Tommy’s face scrunched up in confusion. “How do you know. . .”

Techno held up his hands. Instantly, purple lit up his veins, running up and down his arms. The voices went silent and Techno’s body was suddenly filled with energy. 

Tommy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Fuck.”

Particles drifted from his mouth as Techno spoke. “I was wondering when someone would find the note.

Welcome home, Theseus.”

Chapter Text

The next few days were a blur. Phil and Kristin were busy calling people, dealing with legal issues. Tommy gave his story again and again, leaving out the bit with the magic whenever a stranger was around. 

As it turned out, Anna and Luca were friends with Schlatt, and had promised him large sums of money to bring them more foster kids for illegal trafficking. Tommy had escaped just a week before the two of them were scheduled to be sold. The story was a mess and only became more complicated as more was revealed.

Tommy spent most of his time in Techno’s room. Techno mostly ignored him, but was mostly willing to answer questions about the voices, his powers, and the End.

“A janitor found me in the basement of an office building,” Techno said. “He gave me up to foster care, and eventually after six years of bouncing from house to house, I landed with Phil and Kristin, who adopted me.”

“But how did you get here? Did you jump off the cliff? Were you discarded?” Tommy pet Benson’s head thoughtfully. “Why don’t you have the dragon tattoo?”

Techno sighed and turned away. “I’m not ready to tell you that yet.”

Tommy groaned but let the conversation drop. He flopped back on Techno’s bed dramatically. “What kind of a name is Techno anyways? Sounds like a brand of computer or something.”

“My full name is Technoblade.”

Tommy snorted. “Oh my god, that’s even worse.”

“No, it’s—“ Techno’s ears went pink. “It’s cool, okay? At least, eight-year-old me thought it was cool.”

“You named yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Besides that revelation, Tommy discovered that Techno heard voices in his mind, a community of whispers he called ‘chat’. They apparently liked Tommy very much, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about bloodthirsty voices talking about him. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about the rest of the household, either. Wilbur mostly kept to himself and seemed awkward around Tommy. Kristin fussed over him and apologized for just about anything and everything. Phil pampered Tommy like he was a noble Elytrian, showering him with gifts and extra servings of food at mealtimes. 

He felt guilty for intruding in their family, but at the same time, the attention was kind of. . . nice?

Still, his nights were filled with longing for Tubbo and nightmares of Ranboo falling into the void, eyes empty and dead. Tommy shoved his anxiety to the back of his mind and told himself Ranboo was fine.

Finally, Phil announced at breakfast one day that Tommy would be able to see Tubbo. 

Tommy froze, a fork of waffle halfway up to his mouth. “Wha— seriously?!”

“Yeah, they’ve gotten all the legal work figured out and said it would be okay if you guys met up for a bit.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?!” Tommy yelled, standing up. “Let’s go!”

Kristin laughed and tugged him back down by his sleeve. “Hold your horses, we’re going this afternoon to meet him at the park.”

“I don’t have horses. . .”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

The car ride to the park was agonizingly slow. Wilbur and Techno shared amused looks as Tommy bounced in his seat, yelling at slow cars and flipping off anyone he decided was doing a poor job of driving, which was most everyone considering he didn’t actually know how driving worked.

“THERE’S THE PARK!” He screamed when the first stretch of grass came into view. “I DON’T SEE TUBBO, DOES ANYONE SEE— THERE HE IS!!”

“Tommy,” Phil said, laughing, “sit down, we have to find a place to park!”

Tommy wasn’t listening. He unclipped his seatbelt and stood up as much as he could in the center seat, leaning over Wilbur to peer out of the window. “There he is, Wilbur, see him? He’s the one with the green shirt on and the brown hair, it’s so fluffy, like yours, see him, Wilbur? See him?”

“I can’t see much right now,” Wilbur said. “Seeing as your arm is right in front of my face.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy said happily, slapping his hand over Wilbur’s eyes. Everyone laughed. Tommy certainly had a mouth on him when he wasn’t thinking about rules.

As soon as the car was parked, Tommy was off like a shot, sprinting across the grass towards Tubbo. Tubbo didn’t notice him until Tommy was upon him, tackling him to the ground like Tubbo had when they first met. 

“TOMMY?!”

“TUBBO!!”

Tommy jumped off him, yanking him to his feet and wrapping him in a hug. “Tubbo, you’re okay, you’re alive, you’re okay—“

“You made it out, you’re okay—“

“I’m fine, I found Phil and Kristin and Wilbur and Techno and he’s magic like me, Tubbo, he’s like me—!”

“You found another one?! There’s more people with powers—?!”

“Yeah but don’t talk about it anymore, there are people around and Phil and Kristin don’t know—“ Tommy paused to take a breath, then squeezed Tubbo tighter. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Tommy pulled out of the hug, inspecting Tubbo. He had a black eye and a large bruise covering nearly half of his face, as well as some nasty looking red marks on his arms. Tommy tipped his head towards them. “What’s that from?”

“The belt. I was protecting my face from being whipped, but it got me arms instead. I’m fine though, it’s not as bad as it could have been. The neighbors called the cops pretty quickly once they heard us screaming.” Tubbo leaned to one side, looking past Tommy. “Is that Phil and Kristin?”

Tommy turned and waved at the figures still making their way over. “Yep. The old blond one is Phil, the woman in Kristin, the lanky one is Wilbur, and that’s Techno.”

Tubbo squinted at them, then said in a softer voice, “Are they good?”

“Good?”

“Yeah, you know, not like Anna and Luca. Good ones.”

Tommy looked over at the family, then shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

Tubbo and Tommy stayed at the park for hours. At first, Tubbo just awkwardly introduced himself and exchanged stories with the Watson family. After a while, though, Wilbur had started up a game that involved chanting and calling out other people’s numbers, and soon the brothers were swearing and throwing fistfuls of grass at each other. A rivalry quickly sprung up between the teams of L’Manburg, Tommy and Wilbur, and The Revengers, Techno and Tubbo. 

Wilbur climbed on top of the playground slide, pointing heroically at The Revengers below. “Independence, or death. If we get no revolution, then we want nothing. We would rather die than join your kingdom.”

Techno scoffed. “We’re already free, idiot, you’re the one trying to make a government. One that will most likely fail because governments are stupid.”

“We accept your challenge! We are at war!” Tubbo yelled, shoving past Techno. A woodchip was stuck in his curly hair. “You have five minutes to surrender, and then we’re taking over the playset!”

Phil laughed from the grass where he was lounging on a blanket with Kristin. “So dramatic.”

Tommy grabbed Wilbur’s arm, pulling him aside. “What’s our plan? We can’t surrender, but they have the missiles,” he said, eying the woodchips below. Tubbo was scrambling around, grabbing the largest pieces of bark and dumping them into Techno’s lap, who was preoccupied with something in the grass under a tree.

“Of course not, we’re not surrendering,” Wilbur whispered. “We have the high ground. That gives us an advantage. If we can find some sort of weapon around here, we can probably fend them off at least for a little while.”

Tommy glanced around. “Yeah, but we don’t really have any weapons up here, do we?”

Wilbur grinned and pulled a bag of something out of his pocket. “We have these.”

Tommy squinted at the label. “Gummy. . . Bears? What are those?”

“Candy. They get sticky when wet,” Wilbur explained quietly. A shit-eating grin was already spreading across his face.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Tommy said in a hushed, almost reverent voice. “They’ll never see it coming.” 

Wilbur and Tommy both took a handful of gummies and popped them into their identically grinning mouths.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Kristin nudged Phil’s side. “Look, it’s been five minutes. They’re meeting again.”

Tubbo was sitting on Techno’s shoulders, large pieces of bark in each hand. “Time’s up! L’Manburg, surrender!”

“Neber!” Tommy shouted. “We will nod be corrups-ded by your billainy!” Kristin frowned. Is. . . is something in his mouth?

“You think you’re a hero?!” Tubbo yelled back. He wound back, ready to throw the woodchips. “Then we’ll be the villains!!”

“Oh no,” Phil said.

Metal clinked as Tubbo chucked the woodchips at Wilbur and Tommy, making explosion noises as they hit. Techno handed him more woodchips from his coat pockets and drawled in his monotone voice, “Bang. Boom. Crash. Um. . . Other onomatopoeic sounds of bombs hitting. Death. Terror. Destruction.”

Wilbur, who had been cowering with his back to the onslaught, suddenly spun around, revealing puffed-up cheeks. Tommy and Wilbur leaned up against the playset railing, spitting bits of rainbow at the Revengers. Tubbo yelped and slapped Techno’s forehead as his hair became a multicolored mess. “They’re using gummy bears! Retreat! Retreat! My hair!!”

Techno waited until Tommy and Wilbur’s mouths were empty, then dumped Tubbo to the ground and reached into his pockets. Tommy and Wilbur watched warily, now weaponless.

“You want to be a hero, Tommy?” Techno said. Kristin and Phil watched in a sort of horrified fascination as he revealed three large rotting apples in his hands. “Then DIE LIKE ONE!!”

Wilbur and Tommy screamed and rushed down the slide as the mushy apples fell at them, splattering against the bars. Tubbo whooped, pumping his fists in the air. “YEAH, TECHNO!”

“They’re going to get the smell of rotten apples in the car,” Phil mourned.

Kristin patted his hand, sympathetic. “And look at Tubbo’s hair. His new foster parents will probably have to cut some of those gummy bears out.”

Tubbo and Techno now had their boots on Wilbur’s back, yelling about victory and defeat and whatnot. Techno took the bag of gummy bears out of Wilbur’s pocket and split them with Tubbo while Wilbur cursed and flailed beneath them.

Kristin squinted. “Where’d Tommy go?”

Phil glanced around quickly, then tensed and nudged her. Kristin followed his gaze and found Tommy sitting under a tree, curled in a ball. Was he. . . crying?

She started to get up to go over and see what was happening, but before she could do anything Tubbo walked slowly across the grass to him. Techno and Wilbur were oblivious, continuing to shout and wrestle with each other.

“Should we go over?” Phil murmured.

“Not yet, let’s see what Tubbo’s doing.” Kristin said.

They watched as Tubbo sat down next to Tommy, leaning close to him and whispering something. Tommy flinched, but then he turned his head towards Tubbo and grabbed his hand. They whispered for a while longer, then Tommy rubbed his eyes and they stood, making their way back over to the playground.

Phil and Kristin looked away quickly, focusing back on Techno, who was trying to force Wilbur down a tunnel slide. Tommy and Tubbo approached their blanket, then Tubbo spoke. “Mrs and Mr Watson, is it okay if we take a walk by ourselves? Tommy’s feeling overwhelmed.”

“Of course,” Kristin said, smiling up at the boy. “You guys can do whatever you want, just stay away from the road.”

“And the geese,” Phil added. “They’re fucking monsters. ”

Kristin giggled, remembering the time when a goose had attacked Phil, chasing him a good two blocks before stealing his hat and flying off. Phil had a grudge and fear of all geese since that incident.

Tubbo nodded eagerly and tugged on Tommy’s hand. They ran off, heading for the line of trees by the lake. 

Only when the sun was setting did the boys return, clinging to each other and whispering promises to return. Tommy fell asleep in the car, leaning against Wilbur. Kristin watched them all the way home. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, this will work out.

Chapter Text

The End was surrounded by void. 

Darkness stayed constant on all sides of the hovering islands of pale stone, leaving no way of telling time. The Elytrians had found an Enderian decades ago that could sense the passing of time, and made clocks based on what he had claimed. 

Once the clocks were made, there was no more need for such a power. There were several other Enderians like this, who had lost their use or who hadn’t been checked out for years. The apartments were becoming crowded and the Elytrians were beginning to worry that they wouldn’t have room to build their mansions and shopping centers.

Suicides helped with the overpopulation problem. Enderians would jump from high levels of the apartments. There was one case where a fresh Enderian broke out of the branding center and dove off the cliff to the void below. He hadn’t even had a magic transfer yet and decided he wanted to end his own life. 

Unfortunately, the suicidal Enderians always seemed to be the most useful ones. Windows were bricked up. Leashes were attached to Enderians to prevent them from running off. The Enderians were given entertainment to fight off depression, and they wouldn’t recharge unless they were happy anyways. 

The apartments continued to fill. 

When Dream had become ruler of the Essempí, he saw a simple solution to everyone’s problems. And thus discarding was born.

“The discards are all ready, sir,” Sapnap said, tapping at his keyboard.

Dream gazed down at the discarding platform, hands clasped behind his back. “You may proceed.”

Sapnap nodded quickly and tapped the intercom. “Phase two, Hyphae.”

Dream watched the small blue figure below step up to the line of paralyzed Enderians and place his hand on the first discard’s wrist. Black tendrils of poison crawled up her arm, and George moved on down the line as blood began leaking from her mouth and eyes.

The crowd leaned forward, excited.

A second later, her body dissolved into purple light, sparking and hissing. The crowd whooped as her still-disintegrating body rose into the air, shining until she disappeared completely and the next discard began glowing purple.

Dream watched until every last paralyzed Enderian had been discarded, then stretched and stepped away from the glass, patting Sapnap’s shoulder on his way out of the observation room. “Good work as always, Pyro. See you at the theater later.”

Sapnap bowed. “I look forward to it, piss boy.”

Dream laughed, punching him. “Don’t call me that! I’m going to go check on 1696.”

“Yeah, yeah, have fun, your royal piss boy!” Sapnap turned back to his keyboard, smirking.

Dream walked through his palace’s halls, whistling. His footsteps echoed around the obsidian pillars and line of mirrors on each wall. Some of the braver nobles complained about the mirrors, but Dream liked the feeling of having windows to other worlds hanging on his walls. Stepping past each mirror made a pattern of green reaching into infinity. It felt powerful.

Dream’s mask glinted back at him in the door of the elevator. Lanterns flashed past as he descended deeper and deeper, level after level after level. The ride took two minutes, and then the lights went off and he was plunged into darkness.

The door opened silently. Dream stepped out into the pitch-black room, walking some distance before flicking the switch behind his mask to make the smile glow. A lime plate slid behind the eye-holes and activated, letting him see through the dark with sudden clarity as though the lights had been turned on.

The Enderian was where he had left it, huddled on its massive chair. Its deep red eyes flicked to him, then it started shaking and hid its face in its knees.

Dream walked forward, slowly. His robe swished around his ankles. “1696. Look up at me.”

The thing dug its hands into its head, tugging out chunks of hair. A disgusting, animalistic whine escaped its lips. Dream wrinkled his nose but continued forward until he was crouched in front of the Enderian. “Look at me.”

It obeyed. Dream reached out, cupping its face in his palm. “What happened the day 1732 disappeared?”

1696 shut its eyes. “I-I don’t want t-to tell you.”

A spike of rage flashed through Dream, but he pushed it away. Patience. “I know. But your friend might be somewhere dangerous. We just want to bring him back. You want him to be safe, don’t you?”

“N-no, I can’t— I’ll be discarded, I d-don’t—“

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Dream crooned. He wiped a tear off 1696’s cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry about that. I swear on the stars that I won’t allow you or 1732 to be discarded. Just tell me what you know, and then I’ll let you go.”

1696 opened his eyes and looked at him, then glanced away. Dream smiled behind the mask. He knew he’d won.

“S-swear it?”

“On the stars.”

1696’s lip wobbled, then he took a deep breath. When he looked back, his right eye was a lime green.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Techno was never good with children. Even as a kid in the End he was aggressive and hostile towards anyone he didn’t know well, and he didn’t really care enough to make friends on Earth, so he didn’t know how to handle the traumatized child in their house.

Tommy was confusing. He opened up when they went to the park, showing an energetic, boisterous personality. Everyone was encouraged by his sudden positivity, but by the next morning he was back to being flighty and withdrawn.

Phil and Kristin talked to Techno, noticing that Tommy clung most to him, but he didn’t have any advice or ideas about why Tommy was acting quiet again. He tried asking the voices about it, but they were. . . unhelpful, to say the least.

Wilbur seemed to be the only person in the house that had some idea about what was going on. He’d pulled Techno aside after one particularly tense and awkward lunch and encouraged him to spend more time in his room with Tommy, even if he was just reading or playing on his Nintendo Switch. Techno thought it weird, but hung out on his bed instead of going to fencing practice, and noticed Tommy was slightly more relaxed after a while.

Relaxed wasn’t exactly the way they wanted him, though. The Tommy at the park was loud. He was bouncy and funny and annoying. He was confident. And now. . .

Techno sighed into his cup of coffee. He could think about this later when it wasn’t two AM. He stirred some creamer into his mug and stepped outside, clutching his blanket closer. It was a chilly night, and his breath puffed in the air and mixed with the coils of steam rising from his coffee. The only sound came from the porch squeaking as he sat on the wooden steps and turned his gaze upward.

The voices were few, this late at night. Or early. Whatever. They muttered nonsense about the family and tomorrow and Tommy. Mostly Tommy. They were fucking obsessed with the kid, always worried about his physical and emotional health.

“Guess that makes two of us,” Techno murmured. The voices protested, and Techno rolled his eyes. “Three hundred of us, then. Or however many of you there are.”

Techno’s child therapist had once suggested he count the number of voices. He lost track after two hundred fifty four. He had asked the voices themselves, but the numbers fluctuated and changed like the voices were coming and going. It was usually between three hundred and three million.

He liked to think that the voices were the stars whispering down at him.

The back door opened and then Tommy sat down beside him.

Neither of them said anything for a while, then Techno spread his arm, inviting him into the warmth of the blanket. Tommy stared for a minute, then seemed to understand, scooting over and pressing against Techno’s side.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Techno asked.

“Nightmares.” Tommy rubbed his wrist, then looked up. “What are you looking at?”

“The stars,” Techno grunted. “Here, they aren’t really used for anything. Not in modern days, anyways. Apparently back in the olden days, they would make up stories about the shapes they saw in the stars.”

“They don’t use the shapes for navigation?”

“Well, they used to. Each shape has a name and story with it. See those five stars in a zigzag there? That’s Cassiopeia. According to Greek legend, she was a queen that boasted about her beauty so much that Poseidon, the god of the sea, attacked her city. Her husband chained her to a rock to save his city, but Perseus, flying by, rescued her. Poseidon thought she hadn’t been punished enough, so he sent her to the stars.” Techno scratched his head. “That’s the very basic version of the story.”

Tommy blinked. “How’d you get all that from a sideways W?”

“It’s her chair, see?” Techno pulled out his phone and opened Sky Guide. When he pointed it at the constellation, a ghostly rendition of Cassiopeia appeared on the screen. “She’s cursed to always be upside-down.”

Tommy let out a soft “wow” and took the phone, pointing it at another section of the night sky. “What about that weird animal one?”

Techno peeked at the phone. “That’s Pegasus. Pegasus was a horse with wings that was born from the beheaded monster Medusa.”

“Medusa?”

“Yeah, remember that guy Perseus?” 

Techno told Tommy the stories of the constellations long after his abandoned coffee had gone cold and his phone had run out of battery. Tommy listened to each with wide eyes and quiet questions, not about the world, but about the characters, where they came from, how they died, which gods helped which heroes. He was especially enthralled by the story of Theseus, but by the time Techno was done telling about Pirithous and Eurytus, Tommy’s eyes were drooping and he was putting all of his weight against Techno.

Techno hesitated, then turned and leaned down, picking Tommy up and slinging him over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Tommy wiggled around weakly, but was unable to do more than dangle limply like a sack of potatoes as Techno picked up the mug and blanket and headed inside.

“Wait— I want to hear more— Techie—“

“Techie?” Techno snorted, carefully stepping down the stairs. “That’s a new one. Look, Toms, it’s four in the morning, we can talk more later. But you’re tired, I’m cold, and my voice is getting sore. I think the only way I’ve been talking for so long is because I’ve been using my powers.”

Tommy’s head bobbed. “That’s why. . . some of the stars were purple. . .”

Techno smirked and threw Tommy over his head, dumping him on the mattress. Tommy blinked sleepily up at him as Techno blew lavender particles across his face. 

“Go to sleep,” Techno said. He walked over to the hammock and picked up a tangle. The purple light slowly faded from his veins, and a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him. 

Tommy adjusted himself to be under the covers, then turned to look at Techno. “Why did you call me Theseus when we met?”

Techno huffed softly. “He was a great hero. Protected his city, killed monsters, all that. But in the end, the city was corrupt, and the king exiled him despite all the good he had done.”

“But. . . I haven’t done any of that stuff.”

Techno closed his eyes. “Hm. Maybe Athens was never Theseus’s home.”

“What?” Tommy said, clear confusion in his voice.

“Just go to sleep.” Techno said, rolling over.

Tommy began snoring not too long after, and the voices lulled him to sleep with tales of the stars and stories of watching gods, worlds away.

Chapter Text

It had been thirteen days since Tommy had returned to the Watsons. Only thirteen days, but so much had happened that it felt like it had been months. 

Tommy met with Tubbo on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He sheepishly returned Benson, much to Tubbo’s delight. The next time they met Tubbo secretly gave him a small compass with the engraved words Your Tubbo on it and pulled out a matching one from a string around his neck. Tommy had taken the compass and used a paperclip to carve Your Tommy into Tubbo’s so they would be truly matching.

The rest of his days were spent with Techno and Wilbur. Techno was admittedly boring after a while, so Tommy turned to Wilbur for entertainment, and fuck he got it. Wilbur quickly taught him everything he needed to know about Animal Crossing, Minecraft, and most importantly TikTok. They spent so long watching compilations of TikToks that within a day Tommy was able to quote classic Vines and shorts with Wilbur and Techno, much to Phil’s dismay.

Surprisingly, Kristin was a great form of entertainment, too. She taught Tommy how to sneak freshly baked macarons from behind Phil’s back and convince him to let them lick off the frosting from the mixer attachments. She also figured out Tommy’s passion for drawing and bought him a massive crate of various art supplies. He’d only ever used charcoal and ink, but it turned out he was really good at using oil paints. The first thing he painted was a portrait of the Watson family standing together, with him sitting cross-legged in the center. The proportions were a bit off and part of Techno’s hair was a smeared mess of pink, but it had brought tears to Phil’s eyes and was promptly hung on the wall, right above the dining table so they could see it every evening. 

It was under this painting, on the fourteenth day, that Phil called everyone to a family meeting. Techno insisted Tommy attend too, even though he wasn’t technically part of the family and would probably be put back in foster care soon. He couldn’t sleep in Techno’s bed forever, after all, and hated the idea of the Watsons wasting more money on him than they already had. 

Actually, he suspected that’s what this meeting was all about. Phil was going to seat everyone down and reluctantly say that Tommy had to go. Tommy glanced around the table as he took a seat, trying to imagine everyone’s reactions. Wilbur would probably start crying, the soft bitch. Kristin would be sad but in agreement. He hoped Techno wouldn’t get mad. He’d probably start yelling at Phil and then do something rash. Or he’d accidentally start using his powers and make everyone mad for keeping secrets. Well, in that case, Tommy would have to sneak out and grab his things while they were distracted. He did a quick scan of the kitchen, mapping out all the exits and possible escape routes should anyone get violent.

“All right, guys, I think you all know why we’re here,” Phil said, clapping his hands together. “We need to discuss Tommy.”

“What about Tommy?” Wilbur said, squinting suspiciously at him.

“Well, we got all the legal work figured out, but there’s still a little hiccup we need to address. We’ve been fending off the authorities for a while, but they really don’t like the idea of a kid staying in a stranger’s house.”

“We’re not strangers!” Wilbur protested. Tommy nodded, agreeing but already accepting his fate.

“Of course not, Wil, but we aren’t related to him,” Phil said calmly. “We aren’t fostering him, either, so according to the law, we can’t keep him with us for as long as we’d like.”

“Bullshit,” Techno growled. “We’re not getting rid of him. He’s staying here.”

Yep, he’s getting mad, Tommy thought, staring down at his feet. Called it.

“Now, boys,” Kristin said, “calm down, we-“

“I’m not calmin’ down!” Techno said, standing up and slapping his hands on the table. “You can’t send him away, you know the foster system is fucked up!”

“Of course, we know that,” Phil said, eyes wide. He reached down and brought up some papers from his lap, then grinned at Tommy. “Mate. . . How do you feel about being adopted?”

The room went still. Tommy blinked at the papers. “W-what? What’s adopted?”

“Oh. . .” Techno said. He sat back in his chair, his ears turning bright pink.

“Adoption is when a family takes in a child outside their family and the child becomes a part of that family. It’s like foster care, but permanent.” Kristin drummed her fingernails on the table anxiously. “It’s completely fine if you aren’t comfortable with it, you can still choose to go into foster care, the choice is up to you.”

Tommy stared at her, then looked up at the painting. He could stay here. . . Forever?

“I think I’d like that,” he said. He wiped at his eyes due to something being stuck in them. Big men like Tommy didn’t cry. “Yes, fuck I want to be adopted.”

Wilbur immediately burst into tears, while Techno pounded the table and shouted “Yeah, Theseus!” Phil and Kristin moved as one, standing up and rushing over, and soon Tommy was being hugged and squeezed and cried on from all sides.

Kristin planted a kiss on his forehead. “Welcome to the family.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy still couldn’t sleep on Techno’s bed forever, even if he was a part of the household now. Phil revealed later that he and Kristin had been looking for a new house so everyone could have their own rooms. Tommy immediately demanded a bunk bed so he could have sleepovers with Tubbo. Wilbur helped him look at possible beds online for the next hour. 

They settled on a house not too far from where they were, in a town called Landsmeer. The house was right by a canal, with a large patio that went up to the water. They all went and visited it before officially moving in, and Tommy was delighted to find a skylight in his room (he claimed it immediately) that would allow him to stare at the stars as he was falling asleep. No one else minded, seeing as Wilbur thought it was “creepy” and Techno opted for the room with a balcony instead.

The next thing on their agenda was shopping.

“Phiiiiil,” Tommy said, “What’s this?”

Phil glanced over from the shelf of lamps. “That’s a cat, mate.”

“Yeah, but what is it used for?”

Wilbur picked up a sign that read HOME HOME. “It’s not used for anything, Tommy, it’s just a decoration. You just put it around somewhere and it looks nice and stuff.”

“Oh. That explains all the junk you have lying around your room. I thought everything had a purpose, but I guess not,” Tommy said. 

“Nah, Wil’s room is just a mess,” Phil said. He took a red bedspread and added it to the cart.

Tommy examined the cat. “Your name will be Pussbo,” he decided, and placed it in the cart. Immediately upon contact, the ceramic cracked and Pussbo’s middle broke off and shattered. 

Everyone stared in shocked silence for a moment, then Wilbur and Phil started laughing, leaning against the shelves and clapping as Tommy made a disgruntled noise and fell to his knees. 

“Pussbo my love,” he whispered, cradling the broken shards, “I didn’t know you were so fragile. Please, forgive me.”

“So dramatic,” Phil chuckled. “Come on, mate, let’s gather the largest shards and call an employee over to sweep up the rest. I’ll pay for it.”

“You have to pay for it? But it broke!” 

“Exactly, now the store can’t sell it, so they want their money they would have gotten from it should it be sold.”

“It would never have been sold,” Tommy insisted. “Pussbo was destined to be with me.”

“Destined to break at the hands of a clumsy gremlin child,” Wilbur said mournfully.

“I’M NOT A CHILD, I’M THE BIGGEST MAN THERE IS!” Tommy yelled, getting some glares from other shoppers. 

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

After that heartbreaking shopping trip, Tommy’s new room was looking absolutely fantabulous. He had gained a plushie of a moth he named Clementine, which he set next to Henry, and a spider-shaped night light even though he wasn’t scared of the dark. A stack of books about nature and various facts about this world sat teetering on his sleek black desk, right next to his very own Nintendo switch that Wilbur had bought him. Tommy had also gotten a creepy doll he had spotted in the trash beside an antique shop, just because it made everyone else very uncomfortable, except Kristin, who whispered to Tommy that they should occasionally move it around in the night so it would be in different locations when the others woke up. 

Tommy climbed up to the top bunk of his bed. It was a good thing the ceiling was so high, or else he’d hit his head every time he got in or out of bed. He squirmed under the covers, head towards the center of the room so he could see out of the skylight. He clutched Henry and Clementine in one hand, using the other to point out stars, making his own constellations and stories. 

Eventually, he got tired, letting his arm flop back down and curling up into a ball on his side. His night light cast a soft red glow across the room. 

Tommy yawned and closed his eyes, content with his new home.

Chapter Text

This home fucking sucked.

Tommy screeched in rage as Techno zoomed ahead of him and stole first place right as he was about to get it. “NO! I WAS AHEAD! I WAS AHEAD!!”

Techno stretched, smirking. “First again, losers.”

Wilbur crossed the finish line a second later, pouting. “How come I never make it into the top five?”

“Some people are naturally talented when it comes to the art of Mario Kart,” Techno said solemnly. “Others, well. . .”

“Oh you’re a dick, you know that?” Wilbur flicked a piece of caramel popcorn at Techno, but his aim was off and it hit Tommy instead.

“Oi!” Tommy grabbed a fistful of his own popcorn, ready to throw in retaliation, but Phil decided to walk in at that moment and put a hand on his arm, lowering the popcorn back into the bowl.

“Nope, no more of that,” Phil said, letting go and popping a cheese flavored kernel into his mouth. “We don’t need a repeat of the L’Manburg revolution.”

“You mean the Revengers’ war. It’s named after whoever won.” Techno grunted as Wilbur smacked him over the head.

“So why’d that one book talk about the Cold war? Did the cold win? Or what about the World wars? The whole fucking world won?” Tommy stretched, wincing at the ever-present tenseness in his back.

“Oh, don’t get Techno started on war,” Wilbur said, poking his brother with his foot. “He’ll talk forever.”

Techno batted the foot away. “Oh, come on, they’re cool. The first world war, especially, was interesting because-“

“Quick! Change the subject!” Wilbur cried. “Tommy, what sort of, er, food, do you have, uh, on the plateaus?”

Tommy shoved some cheesy popcorn in his mouth. “Nuf’in like ‘is, we on’y had-“

“Chew and swallow before you talk, please,” Phil said. 

Tommy rolled his eyes but obeyed. “Nothing like this sort of food. We didn’t really have a lot of variety, at least not for the Enderians. We don’t have a sun or moon, so the only natural thing that grows on the stone are the chorus trees. I didn’t see them a lot, but I smacked into them a few times on the street. They’re all rough textured and purple.”

“Do they grow fruit or something?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, chorus fruit. It’s really sweet and grainy. We put it in everything, wraps, salads, soups. . . The main meal of the apartments was a sort of fire-roasted chorus pancake, actually. We got the rest of the ingredients from plant-species Elytrians.” Tommy had a sudden memory of the gardener chucking a succulent at his head when he escaped. “A lot of the ‘magic’ plants were apparently from here, I guess.”

“How is this more exciting than war, ” Techno grumbled. “No offense.”

“Offense taken!” Wilbur said. “I think it’s important to learn about other cultures, and food is a main aspect of a civilization.”

“A civilization that oppresses an entire race and steals their magic.”

Tommy shrugged. “He has a point. Also food is a kinda boring topic.”

Wilbur stuck out his bottom lip and crossed his arms sulkily.

Phil snorted and picked up the television remote, turning it off. “Stop pouting, Wil, you can’t be right all the time. Let’s be done with the video games for now. Tech, will you run with Kristin down to the hardware store? She needs hooks for hanging up Tommy’s fairy lights.”

“They’re Tik Tok lights, not fairy lights,” Tommy protested. “They’re for big men and they’re very manly!”

“Sure, mate,” Phil said. “Wil, get off the couch and clean up the popcorn. There’s a bit that got smashed into the carpet there, you’ll have to use the vacuum for that.”

Wilbur groaned dramatically and flopped off the couch onto the floor, where he started picking up kernels and popping them into his mouth.

“And Tommy,” Phil said, turning with a smile, “even big men need to clean their rooms. Off you pop.”

“But Dad. . . Phil!” Tommy hesitated. 

“Aww! That’s the first time you’ve called him dad!” Wilbur cooed. He shuffled over and started wiggling his fingers at Tommy. “Tommy’s a softie! Widdle softie Tommy!”

Weird tingle-chills spasmed through his body. Tommy gasped. “W-what are you doing?”

“Have you never been tickled before?” Wilbur said, a delighted grin coming over his face. “Ooooh, here comes the tickle monster!”

The finger wiggling intensified. A laugh escaped Tommy’s throat, even though his chest was tightening and his hands were beginning to shake. He pushed at Wilbur, trying to get him off. “No- S-stop- Stop it-“ Why was he laughing ?!

Wilbur pushed back against his weak attacks, tickling more furiously. It didn’t feel good, he didn’t like it, he didn’t like it-

The chair was too large for a five-year-old. Tommy hunched his shoulders, eyes flicking around the room as quickly as his breathing. His cheek stung and his voice was hoarse from hours of screaming.

Those were shapes in the dark. Just shapes. Right? But that was something moving, there. Or was that his imagination? A chill ran down his spine and he shivered.

His mama had told him stories about shadow monsters that came from other islands to steal his magic if he didn’t clean his room, or brush his teeth, or go to bed. What had he done wrong?

“I’m a good boy,” Tommy rasped into the dark. “I’m good.”

“Good boys don’t talk without permission.”

Tommy snapped his head up. A smile was hovering in the dark.

“-ommy, breathe.”

Tommy gasped, grabbing at Phil, burying his face in his shirt, green, but not that green that lime lime green-

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ Wilbur stammered. “I’m so sorry, Tommy, I didn’t know that would trigger you, I. . .”

Tommy reached out a hand and latched onto Wilbur’s sweater, pulling him close. Wilbur froze briefly, then rested his hand on Tommy’s blond curls. “Oh. . . Tommy. . .”

“Shush,” Tommy mumbled. “No talking. Just hug.”

Wilbur obliged, but Tommy still couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that somewhere, in a mirrored palace, a masked emperor was searching for him.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

A low growl rumbled through Tommy’s dream that night. Purple light blinked faintly from somewhere far into the darkness of this wall-less chamber. The dragon was keeping its distance this time.

Dream spun around slowly, staring at the star compass below him. Every once in a while he glanced up at Tommy, and each time it sent a shock of fear through him. He knows where I am, he knows he knows he knows

Dream held his hands out in front of him, then jerked both arms upward. The compass rose out of the ground, green light passing up and up until it was floating above them.

That’s the Pegasus constellation, Tommy realized, recognizing the stars on the bottom of the compass. Earth’s stars are just mirrors of our own.

Dream moved his fingers meticulously, manipulating the needle so it was sunk down to the wrong face of the compass. It spun for a moment, then came to a rest, pointing directly at Tommy.

The dragon finally appeared, its ebony muzzle creeping into Tommy’s vision from the side. 

“There you are,” Dream murmured. 

The dragon hissed, then opened its mouth wide, swallowing Tommy in a flood of purple light.

Chapter Text

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Darkness.

Were his eyes closed, or was he still in that room? 

Ranboo felt floaty.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Rule three. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t open your eyes. Don’t see. 

Can’t see the shadows all around.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

A voice brushed closer. A faint murmur in the wrong side of his ear, talking outward where silence came in.

“. . .you’re goi—“

Click. Click. Click. Click.

It pushed back. It retreated.

It went back to the whispering crowd.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The purple in the void was watching.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

What was that? Something was clicking. . . echoing.

His mind was fuzzy. His mind was dark.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

His mind was full. A crowd standing still, talking. Muffled.

Whispers.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Voices.

He opened his eyes a crack. 

“. . . don’t. . . eye contact. . .”

The floor was moving beneath him. Floors move?

He was moving?

He looked up. The voices shifted.

“Mushroom boy. . .” he said.

The blurry blue figure paused, looking down at him, then continued walking.

Where were they going? To breakfast? He was hungry.

He liked noodles. Mushroom noodles.

He let his head drop. Too tired.

Red boots.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Green was bad.

The floor was dusty, someone oughta. . . Clean it up. Gross stone. They were outside?

Clack. Clack.

Why clack instead of click? Click doesn’t like dust?

He giggled to himself. 

“Might have gone a little overboard on the spores,” Mushroom blur muttered.

Hehe. Muttered. Muttered. Muttered. Muttered. Mutt-ered. Muttered. Muttered.

Muttered.

They shouldn’t be there.

“I don’. . . Wand to. . .” He whined.

The crowd was too loud. They were supposed to be quiet. Gone. Gone. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

Gone. 

Gone.

GONE!

GO AWAY!!

Clack. Clack. Shuff. Clack.

“See you soon.”

Two hands connected with his back. He opened his eyes to darkness. 

Ranboo fell into the void.

Chapter Text

Tommy stuck a hand outside, then immediately yanked it back to his chest. “It’s wet!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Wilbur snorted, “it’s literally frozen water.”

Tommy chewed on his lip. “I changed my mind. I definitely do not want to go outside in the snow.”

“Aw, c’mon, mate, you were so excited to see it this morning! And snow is rare here!” Phil said, lacing his boots. 

“Yeah, but that was before I realized it was cold and wet and falling from the sky! Rain was weird enough, but this?! How does this make any sense!” Tommy said, gesturing wildly at the backyard. 

“5,” Techno said.

Tommy paused. “Pardon?”

“4.”

“Wait, wait, wait, why are you counting down? Tech—“

“3.”

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s not going to work. I’m not going out there.”

“Hm, 2. . .”

“Fucking—“

“1. . .”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Tommy yelled, dashing out the door and on to the patio. He flinched at the cold. “Shit!”

Techno huffed a laugh, coming out with the rest of the family. “I wasn’t even going to do anything, I just wanted to see what you would do if I started counting.”

“Ah yes, the classic unspoken older sibling threat,” Wilbur said, “don’t worry, Tommy, we’ve all fallen victim to it at some point.”

Tommy flipped Techno off, then turned his attention to the ground. He crouched down, carefully touching the snow. “Huh. It’s not as fluffy as I thought it would be.”

“Sometimes it’s fluffier,” Phil said, scooping up a handful. “This is more packing snow than light snow.”

“Packing snow?”

“Easier to mold into shapes,” Techno said, rolling snow into a perfect sphere.

Phil picked up a shovel and started clearing the patio. “Now boys, I don’t want any snowball fights, understand? Let Tommy adjust to the snow before you start flinging it at each other.”

“But Daaaaaad!” Techno and Wilbur complained at the same time.

“Nope, no buts,” Phil said. “Tommy gets to decide when he’s okay with snow down his back. Why don’t you build a snowman or something?”

“Oh!!” Wilbur said excitedly, flapping his hands, “Tommy’s never built a snowman, Techno!”

“Fuck snowman, we should build a snowwoman,” Tommy declared, although he wasn’t sure what they meant by snowman. “That way I can make my own girlfriend!”

Techno snorted and mimed typing something on his phone. “Add that to the list of things to do: Build girlfriend.”

Wilbur crouched down, gathering snow with his gloves and squishing it together until he had a good-sized ball. “See, Tommy, you just want to clump it all together, like this, and we’ll make it taller and taller until it’s the size of a real man.”

“Woman,” Tommy corrected.

“Woman, fine.” Wilbur hesitated, glancing around. “Actually, we might not have enough snow. I think our snowwoman might have to be a snowgirl.”

Techno continued with his snow spheres, already surrounded by a good thirty or so. “I’m making an army of snow gremlins.”

“Those are just balls,” Tommy pointed out.

“For now,” Techno said simply, placing another sphere in the snow.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, moving further on the patio to the edge of the canal. The water was still and glassy, and it took him a moment to realize it had turned into ice, like the cubes that came from the fridge. Fascinated, he placed his hand flat on the surface, but yanked it away quickly. It seemed somehow even colder than the snow.

“Careful by the canal,” Phil called. “The ice is thin and you could get hypothermia if you were to fall in.”

Tommy stood up straight again, brushing his hands off. “What’s hypertherma?”

“Hypothermia happens when you get too cold and you get really sick and shit,” Wilbur said, adding more snow to the snowgirl-pile. “People die from it and stuff. You have to be reaaally cold to get it though, as long as you’re dry and wear coats outside and whatever you should be fine.”

“Huh.” Tommy stepped back from the ice. “When is Kristin getting back from the hospital?”

“Her shift ends at five,” Phil said, tossing a shovelful of snow to the side, “So she’ll probably be home by six or six thirty.”

“Mm.” Tommy watched Techno stacking snowballs, Wilbur patting snow into a tower, Phil scraping yet more snow off the concrete, then turned his gaze upward. Watching the snow come down at him felt weird, all of a sudden it was like he was floating. It almost looked like he was flying up, rising to meet the grey sky, stretching to see if clouds were perhaps as fluffy as the snow looked. . .

It felt like he should be flying now, but something was missing, and he wanted it back.

“Tommy. . .” A hesitant Techno called. Tommy blinked, brought back to reality, and looked over. With a shock, he realized that purple particles were lazily drifting around, and everyone had frozen in place, eyes glazed over.

“Oh. Oh! Sorry, sorry,” Tommy said, rubbing his wrists. “I didn’t mean to, I’ll try and get it to stop.”

“Alright, mate, you’re okay. We’re fine with you using your powers, we just don’t want the neighbors to see.” Phil glanced around, eyes skimming past the snowy landscape. “This is a cool illusion, though, where are we?”

Tommy frowned at his glowing wrists. “I don’t know, I can’t. . . Control my powers. . . Fuck, why don’t you turn off?”

“Oh, so you don’t know what we’re seeing?” Wilbur said, blinking and squinting experimentally. “But it’s somewhere you’ve been before, right?”

“Right.” Tommy puffed up his cheeks, frustrated. “You could describe it, if you want, and I might be able to tell you where it is?”

Phil nodded in agreement. “Let’s give it a try. There’s a bunch of yellowish stone everywhere, it’s almost chalky to the touch and super porous.”

“Endstone. It’s what the islands are made of,” Tommy said.

“There’s a weird building,” Wilbur described, squinting. “We’re standing right in front of it. It has a tunnel-like entrance and what looks like a receptionist’s desk inside, but there aren’t any people around except us three.”

Tommy pursed his lips. “I don’t think that’s a building near the apartments. Probably it’s one I saw a long time ago? Maybe—“

Techno let out a sudden groan, eyes squeezed closed. “Shut up.”

“Techno!” Phil said, startled. “Don’t—“

“SHUT UP!” Techno’s face was tight, tension in every muscle. “They’re so loud! ”

“The voices?” Tommy asked, worried. He rubbed his wrists faster, trying to get the damn light to stop. “What are they saying?! What’s wrong?!”

Techno growled, eyes flicking open and darting around, panicked. Tommy’s illusions didn’t allow for body movement in the real world, but if they did, he had a feeling that Techno would be hunched over on the ground right now.

“Tech, just listen to me, okay? Listen to just my voice, nothing else,” Phil said.

Techno just hissed through his teeth. Tommy’s eyes went wide as he realized small particles had escaped with the hiss, violet light beginning to glow under Techno’s skin.

“Wait,” Wilbur said, face changing from concern to confusion. “Where are those coming from? Techno, why are you glowing?”

Phil’s mouth opened slightly as he realized what was happening. “Tech, you’re. . . you have. . .”

Techno started shaking. Tommy dashed over to him and took Techno’s hand in his own, switching from rubbing his own wrist to rubbing his brother’s. “It’s okay, you’re not actually there, you’re on Earth, they can’t get us here, he can’t find us here.”

“They’re loud,” Techno grunted. “I can’t— I can’t hear you.”

Tommy kept rubbing, murmuring assurances as the purple particles faded and both their powers slowly turned off. As soon as he could move again, Techno yanked his arm from Tommy’s grip and clapped his hands over his ears, swaying back and forth.

“Holy shit,” Phil said softly. “Tech, you’re. . . an Enderian? All this time?”

“No, no that’s not right,” Wilbur protested, wringing his hands anxiously. “You would have told me, and— and you don’t have a dragon mark like Tommy, and— and— it’s not true, right, Techno? You’re not magic? Right, Techno?”

Techno didn’t respond, but Tommy gave an apologetic shrug to them, which seemed to confirm it.

“Oh my god. . .” Phil said, while Wilbur simply made a hurt sound, staring at his older brother.

They stood there for a few minutes in silence, snowflakes drifting mournfully around and nestling in their hair. Techno muttered to himself under his breath, talking to an unheard audience.

“Tech—“ Tommy finally tried.

He was interrupted by a scream.

Chapter Text

The shock of discovering Techno’s powers was so overwhelming that it took Wilbur a minute to process the scream.

“Someone’s fallen into the canal!”

Wilbur blinked, turning in the direction of the yell. Phil ran to the edge of the patio, leaning out over the ice. “I see him! Shit, it’s a kid!”

“Tommy, go get some blankets,” Wilbur ordered, sprinting over. “The thickest you can find.”

Tommy nodded, anxiety etched in his face. “Wil-“

“Hurry!” He yelled. Tommy dashed off into the house.

Wilbur shrugged off his coat, handing it to Phil, who was staring unmoving at the water. “Dad, I need you to help me get him out once I reach the shore.”

Phil nodded. Wilbur took a deep breath, then stepped into the water. Cold shot up his legs like frozen lightning, making him flinch. He forced himself to keep going, stepping off the concrete ledge and swimming out to the center of the canal.

The boy was flailing around upstream. Wilbur kicked against the current, trying to get to him. Their neighbors were throwing ropes and poking sticks at him, but the boy ignored them all. 

Wilbur lunged for him as the canal swept him past, grabbing his arm. The boy immediately froze, going limp. Wilbur cursed, trying to drag him closer. He let out a small whine at the tugging, shaking from the cold or fear so violently that Wilbur couldn’t get him any nearer than an arm’s length away.

“Wil!” Phil was sticking his snow shovel out over the water. Wilbur kicked as hard as he could to get to the shore, but his legs were numb and heavy and the current was fighting to pull him under the water. 

There was a flash of pink and purple, a splash, and then Techno was there, wrapping his faintly glowing arms around the both of them. He brought them to the concrete ledge with one kick, grabbing Phil’s shovel and dragging them up onto the snow. 

Wilbur wanted to lay on the ground forever, but he forced himself to his knees. The boy was curled in the fetal position, still shaking and silent. 

“I’ve got the blankets!” Tommy yelled, running over. The stack was so high it towered over his head, and Phil ran over to help before another of his sons jumped or fell in the canal.

Soon, Wilbur had a fluffy blanket cocooned around him, with Techno in a similar state and a thick quilt placed awkwardly over the boy’s scrunched form. With Phil conversing with the worried neighbors, Wilbur crept slowly forward until he was sitting next to the boy.

His hair was long and split dyed black and white, soaked and hiding his face from view. His clothes were strange, too, clinging to a startlingly skinny frame. Wilbur adjusted the blanket, tucking it closer to the boy. 

“Wilbur,” Techno said.

Wilbur suddenly remembered that Techno had FUCKING POWERS, and turned, suddenly angry. “You’re an Enderian?! What the fuck Techno, why did you hide it all this time? Are you hiding your tattoo with- with concealer or something?!”

“Wilbur, sh!” Techno hissed, glancing at the neighbors. “I don’t have a tattoo, okay?! I’ll explain later!”

“No!” Wilbur cried. “You didn’t tell me! You tell me everything! I was the first person you told about your voices, I was the one you first talked to when you were fostered by us, why didn’t you tell me you had-“

“Wilbur!” Techno shouted. The boy flinched on the ground, and Phil paused his conversation, glancing over. Techno grimaced and gave a little wave, then continued in a gritted whisper. “Wilbur. Now’s not the time. Look at Tommy.”

He hesitated, looking over. Tommy was staring at the boy, eyes red.

“Tommy?” Wilbur said. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy shook his head, taking a few steps back. “It can’t be him, it can’t, it can’t, I’m being stupid, it’s not him. . .”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed. “What. . .”

Tommy let out a low whine, gripping his wrist and slowly walking forward, eyes glued to the boy. 

“Wait,” Wilbur said, “do you know. . .”

Realization flooded his mind and his head snapped back to the boy, taking in the strange clothes and skinny frame again. Carefully, he leaned forward and brushed the wet hair from his face, revealing a purple dragon under a tightly closed eye.

Tommy sobbed, collapsing to his knees and burying his head in the boy’s shoulder. “R-Ranboo, how. . .?”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Dark eyes watched Ranboo from the shadows of a too-full room. 

Raid, raid, raid, raid, a thousand voices chanted as one. Raid, raid, raid, raid, raid, raid, raid.

Someone, something, was invading his mind.

Ranboo wanted nothing more than to scream at the crowd, to demand that they leave him, to order them to silence, but his voice refused to obey him and his body was frozen and still. 

Someone was behind him. He could sense their presence, coming up and breathing down his neck.

Raid, raid, raid, raid

A hiss echoed around the room, lavender light fading into existence. Ranboo was unable to do anything more than blink as a dragon stepped through the crowd, obsidian scales glinting purple. Its eyes locked on a point just to the right of him, and it bared its teeth.

“That won’t do , ” a voice whispered in his ear. Ranboo shut his eyes, but it did nothing to block his vision. A wheezy laugh sent chills down his spine. “Come, now, puppet, let’s take to the stage, shall we?”

The dragon unfurled its massive glowing wings and roared, sending the crowd toppling to the ground. Its teeth flashed in the purple light, and Ranboo fell into the darkness.

Chapter Text

“Is he awake yet?”

“Not since the last time you asked, thirteen seconds ago.”

People were talking. Elytrians.

“Fuck off.”

“ You fuck off.”

“No you. ”

“No yo-“

“Boys, please.”

Ranboo tried, as subtly as he could, to feel around and figure out where he was. He was covered in some sort of soft fabric, fluffier and warmer than anything he had ever felt.

“Did he just move?”

Ranboo froze and kept as still as he could.

“Ranboo? Are you awake?”

“Look at his chest, he’s breathing too fast to not be awake.”

“Ranboo?”

Ranboo let out a whine, but quickly cut it off. Talking is a privilege.  

Someone took his hand, touched him, and he flinched, not able to stop a chirp this time. His hand was immediately released, and the Elytrians whispered above him.

I’ve done something wrong, I shouldn’t have reacted, Ranboo fretted. He braced himself for a blow that was sure to come.

“. . .Boo?” A hesitant voice returned. “It’s me, Tommy.”

A wave of whispers crashed against his mind, and his vision went dark. Suddenly, he found himself standing in front of the shadowed crowd, confronted by conflicting voices.

Tommy, friend, brother, safe, Tommy, alive, scared, danger, Enderian, Tommy, rules, safe, fake, disguise, friend

Ranboo blinked, overwhelmed and confused. It was quiet but it was loud, he was safe but he was in danger, Tommy was alive but it was a trick, a disguise, an illusion. . .

He pressed his hands to his head, pulling at his hair. Too loud, it was too loud, it was too much- 

Wait.

He could move?

Ranboo lowered his hands slowly. Green string was wrapped around his wrists, but it was loose and hung limp on the ground. He looked up at the crowd watching him, and took a step forward, trying to see their faces.

“H-hello?” He said, wincing at his raspy voice. The voices quited at once. He cringed, suddenly remembering that he wasn’t sure if these were Enderians or Elytrians. 

“Ranboo,” came a whisper.

He spun around and was met with a lime smile burning in the darkness. Ranboo whimpered and grabbed his wrist, stumbling back.

“Relax,” Dream laughed, “We’re in your mind. I can’t hurt you here. Not physically, at least.”

The crowd resumed its muttering, harsh and cold. Ranboo glanced back to see them backing away with him, step by step matching his own.

“Aww, how cute! You think you can just walk away and hide with your new friends. Come on, now, we have some time. Don’t you have any questions?” Dream waited, then laughed again when Ranboo didn’t say anything. “You have permission to speak, Enderboy.”

“Why are you here?” Ranboo said, voice quavering. “I told you what happened with Tommy, why don’t you just kill me already?”

“Well, I threw you off the plateaus, or rather Hyphae did, and that was supposed to kill you, or so we thought,” Dream mused, “but it didn’t, and it turned out the note you talked about was right about an edge to the void. Good thing I linked myself to you before sending you here, right?”

“Linked?”

“Well of course, how do you think I’m here otherwise? I’m a part of you now. I can use your eyes, your tongue, your hands, to do whatever I need to do.” The green light pulsed briefly. “And here we are, in an unfamiliar place, watched over by two things that ought to be dead. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Ranboo’s eyes widened and he unconsciously took a step forward. “Wait, so Tommy- he’s-“

“Alive, yes. Why else did you think I needed you? There are experiments that need to be run, places that need exploring, and you are my key to all that. Think of me as. . . a star compass, but every once in a while I choose a different constellation to lead us to.” Green smoke flooded from the mouth of the smile, creeping through the crowd until it reached Ranboo in the center of the room. The smoke sank into the floor, glowing in burning lines to create the projection of a compass.

“But how- why are you telling me all this?! I’ll just tell Tommy you’re controlling me!” Ranboo squeezed his wrist harder, nails digging into his skin. 

Dream clicked his tongue. “No, I don’t think you will. I’m in control of your mind now, 1289, and I will do with it as I please. The only thing keeping me from fully taking over is this crowd. They don’t seem to like me very much. In fact, I think the only reason I’m still here is because I’ve been talking, but I think I’d best be going now. Goodbye, Enderboy. Go be my little spy, now.”

The lime smile faded away, and the whispers grew louder and louder, increasing from a mutter to a talk to a shout. Leave, Bad, Intruder, Bad, Bad, Dream, Push, Banish, Go, LEAVE, DISSOCIATE, BAD, INTRUDER, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD

Ranboo spun around, breathing heavily as the voices began to chant. BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD, BAD

He fell to his knees, wailing at the thundering noise. The floor was vibrating from the force of the chant. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for it to stop, and was relieved when he felt himself slipping into darkness.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy chewed on his lip, watching Ranboo anxiously. He had woken up briefly, sat up and looked around with a blank stare, then collapsed again on the cushions, mumbling nonsense to himself. 

Phil was sitting on the chair at Tommy’s desk, having a silent conversation with Techno. Tommy would have taken a picture of the ridiculous faces they were making had the situation not been so solemn.

Wilbur, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth, switching between running his hand through his hair and biting his nails. He kept glancing over at Ranboo and Techno, something like guilt in his eyes.

Tommy turned back to look at Ranboo. He was muttering something again, eyebrows furrowed in his sleep. Tommy gently reached out and ran his thumb over his lavender dragon, then rubbed his own even though it only felt like the rest of his face.

How had Ranboo gotten here? He was overjoyed to see his roommate again, of course, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of dread at seeing his split face. He had never spoken or looked so worried in his sleep back on the plateaus, and one of his eyes had somehow turned green while they were apart. Plus, the only way he could have gotten here (he assumed, at least) was by jumping or falling into the void, and that brought up only more questions.

“Guys,” Techno said quietly, “he’s awake again.”

Tommy nearly got whiplash from looking back so quickly. Sure enough, Ranboo’s breathing was fast again, and he was wearing what the Enderians called the ‘safe face’, reserved for situations when they didn’t know how happy they should appear.

“Boo?” Tommy said. “You can sit up and open your eyes. We won’t make eye contact, I promise.”

Slowly, like he was moving through syrup, Ranboo sat up and opened his eyes. He peered around the room briefly before landing his gaze on Tommy. His expression didn’t change, but Tommy knew him well enough to recognize fear in the twitch of his eyebrow, hope in his intake of breath, and happiness in the almost unnoticeable relaxation of his shoulders.

“There you go, you’re okay,” Phil said. Ranboo immediately sat up straighter, smiling. Phil slumped slightly, sadness in his eyes. “You don’t have to smile if you don’t want to, mate. No one is going to hurt you here.”

“You can talk, too, you don’t have to ask permission for anything. The rules don’t apply to us anymore.” Tommy rubbed his wrist, hiding the dots from view. He didn’t want to have a sudden flashback right now.

Ranboo hesitated, then scooched back away from Tommy, pressing himself into the corner of the bed. “You’re an illusion.”

Everyone winced at Ranboo’s hoarse rasp of a voice. “No, Boo, I’m not an illusion, it’s me, Tommy,” Tommy said.

Ranboo’s smile became tighter. “Prove it.”

Tommy blinked. “Okay. Um. . .” He racked his brain, trying to come up with something that only they would know. “Oh! How about this?” He moved his hand to the wall and tapped, Hello, Mr. Boober.

Ranboo’s stare burned into the blankets. “Sorry, but that’s not enough for me. Taps can be learned.”

Tommy’s face fell, then he shook his head. “That’s fine! You’re. . . You’re right, of course, um, let me think of something else.”

“Try a memory you have,” Techno suggested.

Tommy brightened. “That’ll work! Boo, remember the purple flower you found on the street that you gave to me? Turns out they’re from this world, they’re called alliums!”

Ranboo stared at his hands. His eyebrows furrowed. “Flower. . . I don’t- I don’t remember. . . I remember something about a flower, but I can’t recall. . .”

Tommy’s heart sank. “What- Boo, don’t you- don’t you remember? It wasn’t that long ago, it was only a few months. . .”

“I don’t remember,” Ranboo whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t remember, I remember Tommy, I remember so much, but I don’t remember that. ”

There was silence. Tommy bit his lip, looking down. How had Ranboo forgotten that? Was it not as important to him as Tommy had thought?

“Do you. . .” Ranboo scrunched his blankets into a fist. “Do you remember my book? The one without a cover?”

Tommy blinked, then nodded. “Y-yeah. You had like three books, but you only read that one again and again until you had it mostly memorized.”

“What did you write on it?”

Tommy stuck his tongue out, dragging his stick along the dark leather of the book. 

You’re such a child, Ranboo tapped. Tommy flicked his tongue back in, giving him a playful glare.

I’m concentrating, he said back, switching the stick to his other hand temporarily. I’m almost done, just let me finish this letter.

He turned back to the book, and continued pressing the stick into the cover. He finished the K and blew gently on the ink.

Done! He timidlypassed the book over. Neat calligraphy decorated the front and inside cover in lightly glowing purple.

Ranboo stared at it in awe for a moment, then scrubbed at his eyes and tapped his foot against the bed. Beautiful. Thank you.

Tommy beamed, ignoring the beep and robotic voice from above. Do you like it?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Ranboo said, tracing the letters. I love it. Thank you so much.

He leaned over his bed and placed it carefully on the top of his small desk, as though it were a trophy on display. Tommy swelled with pride. His handiwork was even and balanced, intricate loops perfectly spelling out

“Do not read,” Tommy said. He looked at Ranboo’s face, his split skin and hair, and allowed himself to reminisce for a second. “Mr. Boo’s memory book. You called it that because-“

“I memorized the whole first five chapters and parts of the rest of it,” Ranboo finished. He proceeded to burst into tears.

“Ranboo?!” Tommy grabbed his hand, alarmed. Ranboo flinched back, then surged forward suddenly, pressing his face into Tommy’s chest. Tommy brought his arms around him in a hug, burying his face in Ranboo’s hair. “I missed you, Boober, I was so worried about you, there’s so much for us to learn. . .”

Ranboo sobbed. “I thought you were dead.”

Tommy laughed through his tears. “No one can kill Big Man Tommy Watson. We’re safe now. We’re safe.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Ranboo’s eye, buried in a red sweater, stung suddenly. He gave a small grin at the pain, and squeezed Tommy tighter, still not fully understanding what the use of this arm-wrapping was and why it felt so right. 

Meanwhile, in a dark room surrounded by whispers, Dream smiled.

Chapter Text

“I was eight when I was taken from my home.”

Techno stared holes into the carpet, playing with a fidget toy. The voices were quiet with a melancholy reverence, listening along with his family to his words. The sunshine outside didn’t match the somber mood that lay heavy on the room.

“Enderians live on floating islands. They aren’t as connected with bridges as the Essempí. The Elytrians explore around the End to find the islands and conquer the cities. This is how they find Enderians to bring to the Essempí.

I don’t remember a lot about my home. Just fuzzy flashes of playing with my sisters and being held by my mother. My earliest memory other than those glimpses is being taken from my city to be transported to the Essempí. I—“

“Why don’t you remember?” Wilbur interrupted.

Techno shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably the emperor’s fault, if I had to guess. Dude messes with your mind. Anyways, I remember being in a cage with two other kids, flying to the Essempí on a boat. Th—“

“A cage?!” Phil gasped, getting halfway off the couch.

“Yes, a cage,” Techno said, placing a hand on Phil’s knee and forcing him back down. “It was a long ride, they weren’t going to tie us up and give us chafed wrists.”

“That doesn’t— that’s not any better!” Phil spluttered. “You can’t just—“

“Dadza, you can’t just interrupt me at every horrible event that happened in my absolutely tragic backstory,” Techno said flatly. 

Phil sighed and bent over his knees in defeat. He flapped a hand in Techno’s direction. “Alright, continue.”

“Thanks. So during the ride to the Essempí, I chatted with the other two kids, and we quickly became friends. The one dude, Halo, was scared half to death, all pale and shaking, but the other kid and I kept planning unrealistic escape plans. We thought we’d be heroes or somethin’ and free everyone. We were. . . young and dumb. I teased the scared kid a lot, with the other kid, Skeppy. That, at least, made him defensive instead of scared. We were mostly just joking, though, and changing the subject proved to smooth everything over.

As it turned out, Halo and Skeppy were friends from an orphanage camp in the city. Skeppy wasn’t afraid because in his mind, as long as he had Halo with him, everything would be okay. 

As the days progressed, we became more and more anxious and uncomfortable with our circumstances. The cages weren’t big enough to allow us to stand or lay down, and our legs were sore and stiff. Halo was especially distressed, and after a few days he stopped talking and would just stare at the front of the ship, unresponsive to our whispers.

Finally Skeppy and I decided to cheer him up with a power contest. I went first, makin’ a hole in the top of the cage with my finger. Then Skeppy grew these crystals, straight from his palm. He gave one to Halo, and that, finally, snapped him out of his trance.

Halo looked back at us, and he had this— this look in his eyes, I can’t describe it exactly. It was like he was gazing at something far away. And Skeppy said— Skeppy told him, ‘Halo, use your powers, give us a prophecy,” and it was like a switch had been flipped in his mind.

Halo took the crystal and just— stabbed it into his wrist. And then he took a paper out from his robe and wrote on it with his own blood, weird symbols and scratches, nothin’ intelligible. I wanted to stop him so we could fix up his wrist. Skeppy insisted that we couldn’t interrupt a prophecy, but I could tell he was worried, too.

As soon as Halo was done writing, he took the paper and slipped it into an envelope. His powers went crazy then, purple smoke streamin’ from his cut wrist and flowing around the envelope. And then he collapsed on Skeppy, envelope dropping onto my lap. 

We wrapped his wrist as best as we could, but it didn’t do much, and his blood just soaked through the fabric. The next day, the guards noticed, and took him away. We never saw him again.

Skeppy was heartbroken. He wouldn’t stop crying and cuttin’ his palms with his crystals. I held his wrists to make him stop, but he curled up in Halo’s spot and refused to acknowledge me.

I didn’t look at the letter. I didn’t see the point in staring at random symbols painted with the blood of a dead boy. But I didn’t get rid of it, either. I hid it under my shirt, like Halo had hidden the paper in his robe. I guess I wanted to. . . keep it as a reminder of our friendship, preserve him as long as I could. 

When we arrived at the Essempí, we were split into groups, and I was separated from Skeppy. The Elytrians dragged me into a newly built apartment and left me to explore. I used my powers to strengthen my sore legs, so I was the first in my group to be able to walk. I found a room with a book on the bed that looked interesting, and claimed it. Some kids tried to come in to share a room with me, but I pushed them out to save a place for Skeppy. 

A day went by, and I got bored. Skeppy hadn’t returned, and I had read the whole book through. I didn’t even mean to, but I found myself slippin’ the crinkled letter out from the envelope and starin’ at the symbols, willing them to make sense. And surprisingly—“

“They did.” Tommy interrupted. He shared a look with Ranboo. “The marks turn purple and move to spell words.”

“Well what— what does it say?” Wilbur asked, leaning forward.

Techno picked at a loose thread on the couch. “I don’t remember completely. Tommy, why don’t you. . .?”

Tommy nodded and took a deep breath. “Jeez, knowing where it came from now. . . ‘The bridge is not the earth, but the end. There is an edge to the void. Take the risk. You will make it.’ Techno, you think that was a prophecy?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I always thought of it as more of a warnin’, or a word of advice. I never understood the bit about the bridge, but the edge to the void is obviously whatever portal or magic brought us here.”

“That. . . makes sense, actually,” Tommy said. “I thought the bridge was talking about jumping off a physical bridge into the void, which I guess worked for me, but now that I think about it, it might mean a theoretical bridge? Like the imaginary bridge between our worlds?”

“I don’t know,” Techno said honestly. “All I know is that Halo was trying to tell me somethin’, which meant he didn’t die for nothing. I put the envelope in the book for someone else to find, and thought hard about it for the rest of the day. 

The guards came for my group the next morning. We passed Skeppy’s group as they were going to the apartment, and they—'' Techno's voice cracked and he swallowed, putting his head in his hands. “Sorry, give me a minute.”

“Of course,” Phil murmured. The living room fell silent save for birdsong outside. The voices whispered small reassurances and encouragement.

Techno sniffed and sighed. “They were broken . A hundred kids, maybe more, staring with empty eyes at the ground, shuffling along obediently. . . I didn’t understand what they were doing, why no one was looking at us or talking to each other, they were just so— so hollow. And then I saw Skeppy, and he. . . Prime . I called out to him, and he looked up at me, and I saw the purple under his eye, but he just stared at me, and then. . . he ran and jumped off the island.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Kristin spoke up. “So he came to Earth?”

“No, he. . . there was probably a ledge or something jutting out under the island. I’ve been lookin’ for him, but. . . I don’t think he’s here.”

Wilbur kicked gently at the leg of the coffee table. “If you had told us earlier, we could— we would have helped you look for him.”

“Tellin’ you now is hard enough,” Techno said. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you at all, but I lost control of my stupid powers and now I have to spill everything or else you all won’t leave me alone. So do me a favor, please, and save all other comments and questions till the end.”

Wilbur stuck his lip out, pouting. “Well, you’re the one that keeps pausing dramatically.”

“I saw Skeppy die, Wil,” Techno snapped. “I don’t care anymore if he made it to Earth or not, it doesn’t matter because I had seen both of my best friends die in front of me, within a few days.”

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur mumbled, scowling. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please, continue talking about your trauma years after we could have helped you get through it.”

“Wil!” Phil said, aghast. 

Wilbur slouched into the couch. “What, Dad, I apologized. Go on, Techno. Just ignore me. Forget I’m here.”

Techno glared at him. “Fine. We were taken to the palace, and he did stuff I don’t remember, or maybe he wiped those memories, and then we were shuffled off to be branded, but the voices in my head scared me and I used my powers to rip through the restraints and escape, jumped off into the void, woke up in an office building, and got put into foster care for a few years until you guys adopted me. The end.”

The voices were growing louder, protesting and yelling for blood, for vengeance, for justice. Techno frowned, trying to focus on what everyone was saying, but a headache was pounding at his temples, turning quickly into a migraine.

“Whatever. Now you know,” Techno said, then got up and left. 

Chapter Text

It took only a few seconds after Techno left for Phil to get upset.

“Wilbur!”

“What, he finished his story, isn’t that what you wanted?” Wilbur scoffed.

“What’s wrong, Wil?” Kristin asked, and though it was a genuine question, all Wilbur could hear was what’s wrong with you, how dare you, how could you?!

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he spat, standing up and marching to his room, slamming the door behind him.

It took two seconds to pull out his phone, four to click on Niki’s contact, and six for her to pick up. Wilbur sat on the floor next to his bed, fingernails digging into his knees as the ringtone was cut off.

“Hey Wilbur! It’s closing time and I’m kind of busy, what’s up?” 

“Hi Niki. I’m having. . . I’m. . .” Wilbur groaned, not finding the right words.

Luckily, Niki understood. “Do you want me to call you an uber or can you drive?”

Wilbur laughed without any humor in it. “I can drive. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

“Drive safely,” Niki said, concern laced in her voice.

Wilbur lowered the phone from his ear and hung up. 

There were voices coming from the living room, but no one noticed as Wilbur retrieved his keys from the junk drawer in the kitchen and slipped out the front door. 

His driving was less than exceptional, especially with him screaming the lyrics to the songs blasting on the radio, but he managed not to crash the entire way to Niki’s bakery.

It was golden hour by the time he arrived. Wilbur squinted against the sun glaring off of the glass door, pushing his way in. 

“Ayup, Wilbur!” Jack greeted him from behind the counter. “Can I get you the usual?”

“If by the usual you mean my brother not being a massive prick,” Wilbur said bitterly.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “Oooookay, then, one black coffee with cinnamon and a raspberry muffin.”

“Is that Wilbur?” Niki appeared from the kitchen, hands soapy. “It is! Hi! I’m just finishing this up, do you wanna go to the back?”

“Sure,” Wilbur muttered, following her out then stepping out into the small alleyway behind the bakery. He sat on the low graffiti-covered wall and waited.

A minute later, she came out, holding Wilbur’s coffee and muffin. She set it down between them before jumping up onto the wall.

“So,” she started, breaking off a piece of the muffin, “Your brother’s being annoying?”

Wilbur didn’t answer right away, taking a long sip of the coffee instead. Oh, Jack, you’re a lifesaver. 

“Yeah,” he finally said, setting it down again. “He’s acting like a fucking asshole, and playing the victim, which, I mean, he is , but I think I deserve a little bit of sympathy too, you know?”

Niki stared at him, perplexed. “Wait, which brother are we talking about?”

“Techno!” Wilbur said, sliding off the wall and starting to pace. “He just revealed this huge, grand fucking backstory, all tragic and everything, and he never told me! I never had a clue that he had gone through all— all that, but I should have! He knows I should have known!”

Niki processed his words a bit. “And. . . why is that?”

Wilbur blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“Why should he have told you?” 

“Because he tells me everything!” Wilbur pulled at his hair. “You don’t understand, Niki, we tell each other everything , I was the first person he told about the voices, he was the first person I sang for, so he should have told me about such a big thing! I thought he trusted me!”

Wilbur huffed in frustration and plopped back down, taking a vicious bite out of the muffin. “I dunno,” he said around the mouthful, “I jus’ thought we’d always have each other’s backs, but I guess not.”

Niki placed her hand on his knee. “Wilbur, just because he didn’t feel comfortable telling you about something doesn’t mean he doesn’t trust you. If something traumatic happened to him, that could be really, really hard for him to talk about.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying!” Wilbur shouted. “But it was hard for him to talk about the voices! It was hard for me to get the courage to play my music for him! It’s been over a decade of him keeping this secret, and not once did he tell me anything about it! He didn’t even hint about what he was going through!”

“And that must have been hard for him,” Niki pointed out. “The voices are already hard for him to deal with, right? And he told you about them. So his ‘tragic backstory’ must have been that much more difficult for him. When people go through really traumatic things, it can be physically and mentally draining for them to talk about it, even with the people they trust most. Or maybe he thought it might hurt you somehow.”

“So you’re saying it was good for him to bottle up all his trauma and keep it a secret for years and years,” Wilbur said sarcastically.

Niki sighed. “No, but I think you need to be a bit more understanding—“

“So I’m the bad guy again, right,” Wilbur scoffed. “I’m the one being a dick, thanks, Niki.”

“I never said that!” Niki cried. “Your feelings are valid, of course, and I get that you feel betrayed, but you’re also getting angry at him for not sharing every detail of his life with you! He’s allowed to keep secrets!”

Wilbur opened his mouth to argue, but Niki shoved the muffin into it before he could say anything. “Here! Eat! You can talk to me when you’re done with that and you’ve had time to calm down and think!”

Wilbur tried to pout, but damn that muffin was good. He chewed slowly, savoring the tart raspberry flavor and running Techno’s story and Niki’s words through his head, again and again.

It took him a few minutes to finish the muffin, then he washed it down with a few gulps of coffee and let his shoulders slump. 

“Sorry,” he said.

Niki rubbed his back. “It’s okay, Wil, you were stressed.”

Wilbur sniffed. “You’re right. I’m being selfish.”

“You were being a bit rude,” Niki said, not unkindly, “so now. . .?”

Wilbur gave her a small smile. “Now I’m going to stop being a bit rude?”

Niki nodded. “Exactly. I don’t like grumpbur.”

Wilbur laughed. “Grumpbur?! Well then you’re. . . um. . . therapy. . . theraniki?”

“Mine’s better,” Niki said, and she was right. They slid off the wall and walked back into the bakery, tossing the empty coffee cup in the dumpster on the way.

Jack was inside, wiping down the tables, and Wilbur waved at him. “Hey Jack, sorry for snapping at you earlier. That coffee was great.”

“No problem! Doing better?”

“I’m as calm as the wind,” Wilbur said.

Jack’s eyebrows crinkled. “Wait. . . is the wind calm?”

“As calm as your mom,” Wilbur joked, smiling at Jack’s further confusion. “Thanks, Jack. Thanks, Niki. See you guys soon.”

“Bye!” Niki said.

Wilbur pulled out his phone in the car, sighing at the forty two unread messages. Half were from Phil and the rest from Kristin, both of them asking where he was and if he was okay. He shot a quick reply to them, explaining that he was just leaving Niki’s bakery.

Fifteen minutes and a brief apology later, Wilbur quietly climbed the stairs to his room and retrieved his guitar from the corner, then grabbed his coat and made his way to the backyard. The snow crunched under his feet. Normally, he wouldn’t bring his guitar out when it was so cold. 

Wilbur dragged a chair over until it was under Techno’s balcony. And then, he began to sing.

“The cute bomber jacket you’ve had since sixth form. . .

Adorned with patches of places you've been

Is nothing on my khaki coat I got

From a roadside when I was sixteen

My boots are from airports

My backpack's from friends. . .”

Wilbur heard the wooden planks of the balcony creak as he continued singing, fingers plucking at the guitar.

“ The roads are my home, horizon's my target

If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it

Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it

Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on. . . ”

A shadow fell on the snow from above.

“ I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready

And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead

The distance is futile

Come on, don't be hasty

You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones. . . ”

Wilbur took a deep breath, fingers stilling only briefly before he sang the last line. “I’ll be gone then, for when you must be alone. . .”

The final chord echoed out into the snowy night. Wilbur closed his eyes, leaning back.

Silence, and then Techno spoke. “Wilbur?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for not telling you.”

Wilbur’s eyelids flitted open halfway and he exhaled slowly, watching his breath puff out in a grey cloud. “I’m sorry too.”

It was another few minutes before Techno’s shadow disappeared and Wilbur went back inside.

Chapter Text

Note, note, the note, Technostory, note, prophecy, note, bridge, what, prophecy, story, void, note, Techno, the note, tell them, edge

Ranboo pressed his hands against his ears. “N-no, not here again, not here. . .”

The crowd seemed larger and louder than before, as if more of the shadowy figures had appeared to listen to Techno’s story. It wasn’t that Ranboo could see them, hidden in the darkness, but he could sense them nonetheless, could feel that there was something there where there should be empty silence. 

“Why am I here?” Ranboo asked the lime smile on the wall. “I was just listening to Techno.”

“I didn’t like where the story was headed,” Dream said simply. “I’ll bring you back soon.”

Ranboo shoved his shaking hands into his armpits and turned away, squinting to try and make out one of the figure’s faces. “Who are they?”

The smile began to fade. “I’ll tell you later.”

Ranboo sighed and closed his eyes. A minute later, the darkness enveloped him.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

“—m fine.”

Ranboo blinked back to reality, eyes focusing on the brown carpet. What was happening, again?

A door slammed upstairs, and Phil sighed. “Do you want me to go talk to him?”

“I think it’s better to give him some space,” Kristin said. “And that goes for Techno, too. Let them have a moment to think.”

Tommy folded his arms. “So what do we do now?”

Phil scooched closer to Kristin and put his arm around her. “What do you boys want to do? Ranboo, want to watch a movie? Explore outside? Our world is pretty different from yours.”

What’s a movie? Ranboo smiled under the pressure of having to figure out the right answer. It took him a moment, and then he remembered he didn’t have to have permission to talk. “U-um, anything’s fine, I don’t really care. . .” 

Tommy jumped up from the couch suddenly, making Ranboo flinch. “Oh! How about we cook something? Let me tell you, Ranboo, the food here is so poggers.”

“What does that mean?” Kristin asked, bewildered. “Poggers?”

“It’s a word from our world, it means epic or cool.” Tommy hesitated. “I think. Something like that.”

Ranboo smiled and made a series of clicking noises with his tongue. Poggers.

Tommy laughed. “Holy fuck! I forgot about that!”

“Forgot about what?”

✿

Pog, poggers, pog, pogchamp, pog, what, pog

Ranboo shook his head, confused. He was suddenly in a dark room, surrounded by a crowd of shadowed people chanting pog over and over again. 

“H-hello?” He said, turning slowly in a circle. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Why does this feel familiar?

A headache flashed behind Ranboo’s eyes, and he hissed, blinking—

❀

“—anboo?”

Tommy had a hand on his arm— why does it feel like that— and was peering up at his face, concerned.

“You alright, mate?” Phil said. “You zoned out for a minute.”

Ranboo rubbed his temples. “Uh— yeah, I’m fine. Um, what were we talking about?”

“The tapping language,” Tommy said cheerfully. “Phil and Kristin don’t get it.”

Ranboo winced, expecting Tommy to be reprimanded for such boldness, but Kristin just laughed. “You got that right. Do you just have different taps for each word, or is there an alphabet system?”

“Kinda both? Whatever words we don’t know, we spell out, but usually we just use the word taps.” Tommy gently smacked Ranboo, spelling out Phil is old.  

“What did you just say?” Phil said.

“I said Phil is poggers,” Tommy lied. Ranboo snorted. 

How old is Phil? Ranboo tapped on his shoulder.

Ancient, Tommy responded with an accented slap on the first bit.

“Tommy! Be nice!” Kristin scolded. 

Tommy’s mouth fell open. “You figured out the language already?!”

“What? No! Don’t hit Ranboo, if he’s in the same state you arrived in, he’ll have bruises all over!”

Tommy winced. “Oh. . . sorry, Boo.”

Ranboo squinted at the carpet. “I-I don’t. . . I don’t understand. I’m used to the bruises.”

“That’s not normal here, mate,” Phil said softly. “No one should hurt you.”

Ranboo hesitated, then snapped his mouth shut in a smile and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Tommy elbowed him in the ribs. “Just call him Phil or Philza. Or Dadza or Crowza or Oldza or Chefza or—“

“We get it!” Phil laughed. 

Kristin nudged him with her foot. “Cuteza.”

Tommy groaned as they kissed. “Ew! Ew! Ew! No public displays of affection, please!”

Kristin pulled away and leaned her head back on Phil’s shoulder. “Why is it a ‘za’, anyways?”

Phil thought for a minute. “I actually have no idea, that’s just what Wilbur decided to call me one day.”

“Well it’s funny and hilarious,” Tommy stated. “Hilarious and funny.”

“What does that even mean?” Phil said. Tommy just shrugged.

“So anyways, what do you want to do?” Tommy said, turning back to Ranboo.

Ranboo took a deep breath. “If it’s okay, could I be alone for a minute? Or not, it’s fine either way.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Kristin said. “I think it’s a good idea for us all to take a minute to think about stuff on our own. I have to go get something for us to eat for dinner, anyone can join me if they want.”

“If I come, can I choose what we get?” Tommy asked enthusiastically.

“Sure.” Kristin stood up and fished her keys from her pocket. “Phil, how about you stay? Make sure the house doesn’t burn down or something.”

“Sounds good.” Phil stood and they kissed, then Kristin and Tommy walked out with a last glance back at Ranboo.

As soon as the garage door slammed shut, Phil sighed and stretched. “Okay, mate, you said you wanted to be alone, so I’m going to go up and check on Wilbur now. Feel free to come and get me if you need anything.”

Ranboo nodded. “Thank you, si— Phil. . . za?”

Phil smiled at him, then walked past him to the stairs. Ranboo waited until his footsteps receded before sitting cross-legged on the floor, placing his hands on his knees.

Ranboo closed his eyes and listened.

Philza, Tommy, Phil, Philza, Dadza, Philza, Philza, Philza, Crowfather, Philza, friend, Phil, Smileza, safe, Philza good, Phil, happy, Tommy, Philza, good

Ranboo opened one eye and glanced around, making sure he was truly alone before shutting it again. “Phil is good? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Philza, Phil, yes, Phil, Dadza, good, good, good, good, good

Ranboo winced at the chanting. “Okay, okay. So you can hear me? You understand what I’m saying?”

Philza, good, good, yes, hello, yes, yes, yes

“How. . . how many of you are there?”

The crowd went silent for a heartbeat, then began to chant all as one, growing rapidly louder and louder. Three ninety five, three ninety nine, four hundred seven, four hundred eighteen, four hundred twenty eight

Ranboo’s mouth went dry. “You’re. . . you’re growing.”

Yes, Yes, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES

✿

Ranboo cringed at the yells and opened his eyes to the crowd. YES, YES, YES, YES, YES

“S-stop,” Ranboo said. He pressed his hands against his ears but it did nothing. “Stop! Please! It’s too loud!”

YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YE—

The crowd cut off suddenly and started whispering as they had before. Ranboo blinked. Had that. . . worked?

“They aren’t your friends, you know.”

Ranboo got a strange flash of déjà vu as the lime smile appeared on the wall, so far away. “Your majesty. . .”

“1696. Having fun?”

Ranboo rubbed his wrist. “Who are they? Why are they growing?”

Dream laughed. “I’m not going to tell you! What, you think I answer to you? I’m in control.”

Ranboo flinched. “Y-yes, sorry. I won’t ask you again.”

Dream cooed at him. “Aw, good little Enderboy. You know what? If you behave yourself, I’ll tell you what they call themselves. How does that sound?”

Ranboo chirped and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you. . .?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir?” The smile flickered. “Am I a ‘sir’ now? You will address me as your majesty.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“You’re welcome.” Like last time, the smile began to fade as the whispers increased in volume and anger. “Now you go be a good puppet, and remember the rules.”

The darkness took him.

❀

Ranboo opened his eyes. Remember the rules.

He looked down. His wrists were stinging. Scratch marks stretched across his arms, bleeding in places. 

Ranboo hesitated, then pressed his palm against the scratches, pushing into the muscle and making them sting more. A wave of relief washed over him.

Pain is good.

Ranboo’s smile slipped slightly. But. . . Phil is also good.

Phil said I shouldn’t be hurt.

But. . . Pain is good.

Pain is a blessing.

Ranboo stared at the couch where Phil used to be. His hand slowly lifted off of his arm, off of the scratches.

Is pain good?

Chapter Text

It’s not like Tubbo had meant to set fire to his mom’s lawn chair.

Okay, well he had meant to start the fire, he just hadn’t expected it to spread that far. Apparently lighting a tupperware container of heated oil on fire, even a small one, caused flames to shoot up about twenty or thirty feet in the air. Fascinating.

Tubbo was just putting out the last of the fires when said mother and owner of the now extra crispy chair came outside, coughing at the smoke. “Tubbo! Again?!”

Tubbo spun around, dropping the smoking towel he had been using to bat at the flames. “Puffy! Everything’s fine, I’ve got this all under control!”

Puffy stared at the blackened remains of her chair. “What. . . is that my—“

“Hey!” Tubbo interrupted, panicking. “Uh. . . we didn’t start the fire! It was always burning, since the world’s been turning—“

“Tubbo, please stop singing,” Puffy said. She cupped her hands around his head, examining his face. “Did you hurt yourself? Are you burnt anywhere?”

Tubbo wrinkled his nose. “Aw, mom, I’m not stoooopid, I know how far away to stand from my experiments! It just went up this time, not all around!”

Puffy sighed. “Well, it is less damaging than the toothpaste incident. And you did it outside this time. But don’t play with bombs when I’m not home, okay?”

“Okay!” Tubbo gave her a grin and looked down at the melted plastic on the pavement. “I’ll clean that up now.”

“Yeah.” Puffy said. “Oh by the way, I actually came out here to tell you that Tommy wants to set up another playdate at the park.”

“Mom, it’s not a playdate!” Tubbo whined. “We’re not babies .”

Puffy wrapped him in a hug. “Aw, but you’re my baby!”

Tubbo laughed. “It’s only been two months since you adopted me!”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re always gonna be my baby.” Puffy squeezed him tighter, despite his weak protests.

Finally, she released him, ruffling his hair. “We’ll head out in five minutes, okay?”

Tubbo gasped happily. “Wait, it’s today?!”

“Yeah, so hurry and clean up the pavement. I have to put away the groceries, and then I’ll come out and help with the chair.”

“Okay!” Tubbo got on his hands and knees and started scraping at the smoldering plastic with a rock. I wonder what would happen if I combined some gunpowder with the oil. . .

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

There was someone with Tommy at the park, besides the other Watsons, of course. Tubbo was confused until he remembered Tommy’s descriptions of his friend. Vitiligo? Check. Red eyes? Well, one of them, at least. Super tall? Man had to be at least six foot five, maybe six foot five and a half. Yep, this was Ranboo.

Tommy saw him coming and his face lit up. “Bee boy!”

“Ayup, boss man!” Tubbo ran to meet him, bending over and headbutting him. Tommy let out a small ‘oof’ and fell backwards into the grass.

“Gentle, Tubs!” Puffy called from the parking lot.

“It’s fine, mom!” Tubbo grabbed Tommy and pulled him to his feet, then put his hands on his hips and looked up. “How tall are you?”

Ranboo’s eyes swiveled to the side, avoiding Tubbo’s gaze. “U-um, about seven chór.”

End measurements. Tubbo walked a circle around him, taking in the drooping clothes. “You’re so skinny! They really don’t feed you anything in the End, huh? I’m Toby by the way, but everyone just calls me Tubbo. Your skin is so cool, it’s all patchy. Why is your dragon tattoo different from Tommy’s?”

“Uh, um, it’s a brand, um, it helps tell us apart. . .”

Tubbo came back around to his front and squinted up at Ranboo’s face again. “That seems unnecessary. Why don’t they just use, like, face recognition or something?”

There was a pause, then Tommy shrugged. “Who knows. Anyways, Tubbo, this is Ranboo. I told you about him, remember?”

“Yep!” Tubbo said, then leaned closer to Ranboo and gave a loud, exaggerated whisper. “He totally bawled his eyes out over you.”

“I DID NOT!” Tommy shouted, flushing a deep red. 

“Tubbo, be nice!” Puffy said, coming up behind him. “It’s not okay for you to tease him about crying, emotions aren’t something to be ashamed about.”

Tubbo sighed. “My mom’s a therapist.”

Tommy smiled. “Oh! Niiiiice!”

“You have no idea what that means, do you?”

“Not a clue.”

Puffy blinked in shock. “Really? Well, um, basically as a therapist I help people cope with their emotions and mental health. It’s a nice job.”

“You could use some therapy,” Tubbo said, because honestly it was more of a fact than an opinion. Tommy was doing better, but Tubbo knew from his years in foster care that some things didn’t go away.

“There are a lot of people who could use some therapy,” Puffy said sternly. “In fact, in my opinion, everyone should get at least some therapy in their lives.”

“Yep, okay, we’re going to go wander around, you can go talk to Tommy’s parents or whatever.” Tubbo pushed her gently towards the fountain nearby where Phil and Kristin were watching them.

“Since when do you tell me what to do?” Puffy joked, but she left anyway, curly hair bouncing behind her.

Tommy clapped his hands together. “So where are we wandering to?”

Tubbo looked around, then pointed. “How about the pond?”

“Not much of a wander,” Tommy said.

“Well, we can’t get too far from the adults, anyways.” Tubbo smacked Ranboo’s leg. “Down.”

Ranboo hesitated. “Down?”

“Crouch down.”

Ranboo obeyed, folding his lanky limbs awkwardly. Tubbo walked to his back and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Up.”

“Can he even carry you?” Tommy said, concerned. “He still has bruises and shit.”

Tubbo released the tall boy immediately. “Oh damn, sorry. Maybe I should have asked about that first. When Tommy came, I tackled him ‘cause I didn’t know he had broken ribs. You aren’t broken anywhere, are you?”

Ranboo teetered slightly from side to side. “Um, no?”

“Great!” Tubbo shoved him gently, making him topple over onto his butt. “C’mon, I bet you’ve never seen a duck before, huh?”

He took hold of Ranboo’s hand and yanked him to his feet, then grabbed Tommy’s as well and dragged them both over to the pond. There weren’t a lot of birds, most of them having gone south for the winter, but a goose was ambling its way over to them, hopeful for some crumbs.

Ranboo stared at the pond. “Is that water?”

“Yep,” Tubbo said, popping the ‘p’. “It’s probably really cold right now, so don’t like, dive in or anything.”

Ranboo shuddered and took a step back. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Tommy stared at the goose. “Uh, that bird is getting closer, shouldn’t we leave?”

“Why would we?” Tubbo asked, suprised. “It’s just a goose.”

Tommy shifted warily. “Yeah, but it’s a lot bigger than I expected. Benson is small.”

“Who’s Benson?” Ranboo said.

“My rubber duck.” Tubbo stuffed his hands in his pockets and began walking over towards the goose. “Look, it’s not gonna do anything. It just wants some food. Once it sees we don’t have anything, it’ll—“

The goose saw him and hissed, spreading its wings. Tubbo hesitated. “Um. . .”

“I don’t think it likes us,” Tommy said bluntly.

The goose stretched its neck out and nipped at Tubbo’s pants. Tubbo jumped back. “Uh, no, I don’t have anything for you. . .”

The goose shook its head and flapped its wings some more, then started waddling closer, backing him up.

There was a shout from over by the fountain. Phil was standing on the rim, looking over at them. “Is that a goose?!”

“Yeah, and I think it’s mad!” Tommy yelled back.

“Aw hell no! Not again!” Phil jumped down and started sprinting away. “RUN, BOYS!”

The goose gave a furious honk and the chase began.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

It had taken all six of them to get Phil down from the tree he had climbed, even after the goose had long since flown away. No one was sure how he had gotten so high in a tree with no low branches, but somehow he had managed.

After several confusing minutes, though, he was down, and Tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo walked off again to a nearby bench. 

Tubbo sat down heavily, groaning. “I’m never going anywhere near a goose again.”

“Motherfucker was persistent, ” Tommy agreed. 

Tubbo laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back. “So what are you guys doing for Christmas?”

Ranboo and Tommy looked at each other blankly. Tubbo’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. No way.”

Tommy shrugged.

“MOM!” Tubbo screamed, standing on the bench, “THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT CHRISTMAS IS!!”

“What?” Puffy rounded on Kristin. “Do you not have Christmas at your house?”

“Ah, we— we do! Tommy’s just. . . been in foster homes that don’t! And Ranboo has memory problems. You know how it is, CPS doesn’t. . .”

Tubbo stopped listening and plopped back down on the bench. “Christmas is a holiday, it’s basically a giant party for one day every year, and there are tons of traditions, like gingerbread houses and decorating trees and giving gifts and stuff.”

“Okay, okay, okay, slow down,” Tommy said. “One thing at a time. Holiday? Party? What does any of that even mean?”

Tubbo could have cried right there and then. “Oh my god. How are your lives this sad. A holiday is a celebration for certain days to remember different things, like a big battle, or a famous person.”

“Like a festival,” Ranboo murmured.

“Yeah! You had festivals but not parties?”

Tommy rubbed his wrist. “Well, we weren’t allowed to go to them, but we could hear the Elytrians every once in a while chanting and playing drums and laughing and shit in the streets. We were usually checked out the day before, I guess they were playing around and showing off their powers.”

Your powers, Tubbo thought, but that could be a discussion for another day. This was more important. “Yeah, so that sounds kind of like what we do for holidays, except each is unique. For Christmas, there are tons of traditions, or fun things everyone does that are passed down through the generations. The main one is giving gifts, everyone gets something for everyone else, like the compass.”

“Oh.” Tommy pulled his necklace out from under his shirt, letting the compass swing gently. “But we have to get a gift for everyone?”

“Well, not everyone, you don’t give it to a random dude on the street. Unless you wanted to, I guess. You just give it to whomever you like. But you have to keep the gifts a secret until Christmas, so it’s more of a surprise.” Tubbo eyed Ranboo. What would he want for Christmas?

“So when is Christmas?” Tommy asked.

“The 25th. We’re like. . . Three weeks away? Four? Surely you’ve noticed the lights and Santas and stuff around.” Tubbo sighed at the looks on their faces. “Okay, we put up red, green, and white lights so everything looks nice, and Santa is this chubby dude that comes down peoples chimneys and leaves presents for them.”

“Is that allowed?” Ranboo said anxiously.

Tubbo rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well he’s not real, it’s just for fun!”

“Earth is weird,” Tommy muttered. Ranboo nodded in agreement.

“Earth is awesome!” Tubbo got up and stood in front of them. “Look, we’re going to get you the best first Christmas ever! We can go ice skating on the canals, watch every Christmas movie ever, steal the fake beard off of a mall Santa. . . it’s going to be great.”

“Okay, whatever ‘mall Santa’ means.” Tommy said.

Tubbo groaned in exasperation. “So sad. Your lives are so sad.”

Ranboo and Tommy shrugged in unison.

Chapter Text

George spun his spoon through his soup slowly, watching coils of steam come off of it. Some kind of fried vegetable bobbed in the watery broth. George raised the spoon and took a small sip. Bland. Needs more flavor. 

He placed his hand palm-up on the table and activated his power. His veins glowed a faint green under his skin, and small mushrooms sprouted from his fingertips, squirming as they grew into fully mature chanterelles. Once they were large enough, he plucked them off and tossed them in his bowl, then tried the soup again. Better.

His peaceful lunch break was interrupted by Sapnap charging into the room and slamming something down on the table. “I’ve got it!”

“Prime, Pyro!” George said, grabbing a napkin and wiping up some soup that had spilled. “Don’t do that!”

“Whatever, George, I don’t care about your soup, look what I found in the market this morning!” Sapnap waved a stack of cards in his face. “It’s the expansion deck for fibbles! It has a hundred new monsters!”

“Fibbles? What, that nerdy Enderian game?” George scoffed. 

Sapnap rolled his eyes and started flipping through the cards. “It’s fun, okay, George? It uses a combination of math and creativity to force the players to—“

“I literally don’t care.” George took another bite of his lunch. “And you know Dream doesn’t like us using our real names.”

Sapnap shrugged. “Whatever. It’s just us here. No one’s going to spy on us or something.”

“Not the point,” George said, but let it drop.

Sapnap moved another card to the back of the deck. “Where is Dream, anyways?”

George sighed and leaned back. “Probably playing with his Enderian pet again. He’s obsessed with this new world he’s found.”

“Think we’ll get to claim it soon?” Sapnap summoned a ball of fire to his fist. “It’s been forever since we’ve gotten to storm a city.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” George pointed out. “You nearly got taken out by that ice type Enderian last time we went out.”

Sapnap scowled. “It snuck up on me, okay?!”

“Yeah, snuck up by running directly at you,” George snickered. “You were too busy staring at yourself in a mirror to notice it.”

Sapnap leaned across the table and flicked George on the nose. “Was not! Shut up!”

George huffed and adjusted his cape. “The point is, missions like that are dangerous. And we know barely anything about this new world, world, not city. And what would be the point anyway? Dream says they don’t have magic.”

“I mean, neither do we, technically,” Sapnap muttered. 

George stood and picked up his bowl, bringing it over to the sink. “This isn’t a joke. We’re still at war, and it would serve you well to remember it.”

“What war?!” Sapnap said. “We haven’t done anything in ages! The most exciting thing we do around here is the discardings! I’m getting tired of pressing buttons and doing every menial task Dream gives me!”

George whirled around. “Are you kidding me right now? Are you kidding me?! We’re here at the Essempí, safe, with plenty of Enderian species to choose from, working with Dream himself—“

“‘Working with’?” Sapnap repeated, sparks dancing around his fingers. “We barely know anything about what he does! All we know is what he lets us know!”

“Does it matter?” George yelled. “We’re friends!”

“Yeah. Friends.” Sapnap huffed and slipped his cards into his pouch. “Whatever. I’m going to find someone to play fibbles with.”

“Fine.” George slammed the bowl down into the sink. “Have fun.”

The door closed. George took a deep breath, watching toadstools spring up from his palms.

“Whatever.”

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Dream watched as the small curly-haired boy babbled on and on about ‘reindeer’ and ‘gingerbread’ and ‘stockings’. The boy wouldn’t shut up. It was annoying.

Dream sighed and slipped out of 1696’s mind. There wasn’t going to be any important information today, it seemed. As intriguing as it was, learning about this world, it wouldn’t answer the questions that Dream desperately wanted to know.

A soft knock came at his door. “It’s Hyphae.”

“One moment.” Dream blew out the candles melted onto the table next to his throne and reached up to his mask, flicking the switch to make it glow. The room was brought into sudden brightness before his eyes. “You may come in.”

George stepped into the room, velvet cape swishing behind him. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes.” Dream drummed his fingers on his armrest. “I’d like your opinion on something.”

“Of course, sir,” George said. “What is it?”

Dream hummed. “Yesterday, we found another Enderian city. My soldiers are eager to obtain it, but I told them to wait. From the reports, it seems that this city is. . . particularly well evolved, and has interesting architecture I’d like to integrate into our empire. So this is my dilemma: 

Do I take the Enderians as usual, and gain new powers for the nobles? Or do we make temporary peace with the savages in order to study their ways?”

George stood silently for a minute, thinking. “Perhaps. . . we could find some way to seize the city without as much destruction. If we take the Enderians little by little, they may not notice for a while, and during this time we can study the buildings and appear as allies to them.”

“And how do you suggest we go about taking the Enderians without detection? It’s difficult to narrow down who will not be missed.” Dream tilted his head. 

“We go for the older and poorer Enderians. If we plant soldiers at the entrances of alleyways, we can jump them when they walk past alone. If they’re knocked out, we’ll be able to transport them out in wagons or carts. We’ll do it randomly and slowly so they don’t notice them going missing,” George said.

Dream considered it. “Very well. I’d like you and Pyro to run the operations and appear at the city on my behalf. Tell them you’re my representative and come in peace, and that I’m too busy to appear myself.”

George stiffened and took a step forward. “With all due respect, sir, don’t you need us here? We have another discarding next week—“

“And it will go smoothly as always,” Dream said. “I’ll allow you to take your Enderian with you, and there are other chemical types that have the paralyzing and withering ability. I’ll be just fine without you here.”

For a second, he thought George was going to argue further, but then he snapped his mouth shut and gave a quick nod. “Of course, sir. When will we be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.” Dream stood and walked over to George, wrapping him in a hug. “Thanks for doing this for me, Hyphae.”

George sighed and returned the hug. “You’d better not do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“When have I ever?” Dream chuckled, pulling away. 

George snorted and bowed. “I’d better go tell Pyro and start packing.”

Dream nodded. “Of course. You’re dismissed.” 

George bowed once more, then left, the throne room doors booming as they closed behind him.

Dream stood for a moment more, then returned to his throne. He waved his hand once over the candles, watching green flames flicker to life. He stared at the mesmerizing movement of the dim light, then reached up and unbuckled his mask, letting it fall into his lap. 

“Alright, Enderboy,” he whispered to an unseen audience, “let’s see what you’re up to now.”

Chapter Text

“Mom!”

Kristin sat bolt upright with a gasp. The figure standing next to her bed flinched back, shaking.

“T-Tommy?” She said, squinting in the dark. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy wrapped his arms around himself. “I-I know it’s d-dumb, I shouldn’t be here, It— it’s stupid, b-but. . .”

“But?” Kristin leaned over and turned on her lamp. Tommy’s face was suddenly bathed in yellow light, golden tears rolling down his cheeks. “Oh Toms, did you have another nightmare?”

He nodded quickly, biting his lip.

“Do you want me to wake Phil up?” She said, glancing over at her snoring husband. 

Tommy shook his head. “N-no, I’m sorry, I can just go back to bed.”

Kristin rubbed her eyes. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Tommy.”

“But I don’t want to wake Dad up.” Tommy turned and started walking towards the door. “Sorry, you can go back to sleep.”

Kristin swung her legs off the bed and came up to him, wrapping his shaking body in a hug. He tensed, then relaxed, letting out a sob.

“I’m not going to leave you when you need me, Tommy,” she assured him, rubbing circles in his back. “Do you want us to go to your room or somewhere else?”

“‘Boo’s asleep,” he mumbled into her nightgown. 

“Okay. How about we go to the kitchen? I’ll make us some hot chocolate.” Kristin squeezed him, then led him down the stairs.

Tommy didn’t want to let go, so she let him cling to her while she microwaved two mugs of milk and stirred in the cocoa powder with a tiny bit of cinnamon. Finally, they sat on the couch together, in silence while Kristin waited for him to start.

Tommy stared at his mug. “It wasn’t the nightmare that was bad.”

Kristin took a gulp of her cocoa. “Okay.”

Tommy sighed. “I was just. . . remembering again. In the End, you’re not allowed— you don’t touch others. It wasn’t part of the rules, and it’s not like anyone monitored us in the apartments, so I don’t know why we didn’t ever touch each other, it’s just how it was. So when you had a nightmare, you didn’t do anything. You just go back to sleep and try to be happy so you can recharge.”

“Ah.” Kristin raised her hand and scratched his scalp, leaning her head against his blond curls. “You can only recharge when happy, so sadness isn’t accepted very well, is it?”

“No!” Tommy’s voice cracked. “We aren’t allowed to be sad, or angry, or afraid. . . hell, we weren’t even allowed to hate pain! That’s rule number one! Pain is good! And I just— I don’t know how to deal with this, and it’s just so, so fucked up!”

Tommy started crying again, and Kristin pulled him closer, murmuring quiet assurances to him.

“I don’t know,” he sobbed, “I just hate that there are still people there living like that, like there must have been hundreds of apartments, thousands of Enderians being taught that, and never knowing better. . . when I was brought I was five, but there were people even younger that were in my apartment! I hate it! I hate the emperor!”

“Oh, Tommy,” Kristin said, hugging him. “I know, bubs, it’s not right. But isn’t it good that you realize that? Look how much you’ve grown! You were so scared and hurt when we found you, but you know what? You’ve changed! You’re so strong and brave! You were brave when you ran away from your bad foster parents, you were brave when you told Wilbur and Techno you have powers, you were brave when you let us adopt you. . . I’m so proud of you!”

Kristin wiped her own eyes. “And maybe we can’t help the other Enderians now, but if three of you managed to come to earth, come to us, then maybe more will come, and we can help them. Somehow, the void you jumped into brought three perfect boys to us, and I am so, so grateful. Maybe you were all broken, but you healed.”

“Not Ranboo,” Tommy whispered. “He’s even worse than when I left him.”

Kristin nudged him so he looked up at her. “That wasn’t your fault. That wasn’t your fault, okay Toms? That was that bastard of an emperor. And I don’t think you’re seeing the whole picture. With the goose yesterday? Ranboo was scared, just like the rest of you, but I think I heard him laugh a little when he spotted Phil in the tree. He just needs a little time to adjust, like you did. He just needs a friend.”

She planted a gentle kiss on her boy’s head. “He needs you, Tommy. And I know you’re going to help him.”

Tommy let out another sob and buried his face back into her side. Kristin held him close, and made a silent vow: as long as I live, I will never let anyone hurt you again.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Poggers, ayoo, sleeping simulator, hellooo, he ded, hi, dreaaaaam, sleepy, say hi, wassup, ayo, dreamy time, sleep, hello, pog

Ranboo sighed into his pillow. The voices were being loud again. Just as he was about to fall asleep, too. 

✿

Ranboo rubbed his eyes and sat up, glaring at the smile on the wall. “I’m trying to sleep!”

Dream chuckled. “Since when do you talk to me that way?”

“I—.” Ranboo curled his fingers into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. “I-if we’re in my mind, then you can’t hurt me.”

“And who told you that? Some dumb show? A mov-ie? I’m honestly hurt that you would change to Earth standards so quickly, Enderboy. You’re already pretending to hate pain so these people will like you?” Dream scoffed. “They just keep you around because it makes Tommy happy. He’s the one they really care about.”

The crowd shifted angrily, and the smile flickered. No, no, stop, lie, no, lies, no, dream, no, liar, lie, stop, no, knife, dream, sleep, stop, lies

Ranboo hunched his shoulders. Why were they angry? What did he do?

Dream hissed. “Looks like they’re pushing me out again. I’ll just leave you with a reminder, 1696. You are not in control. ”

❀

Ranboo was not laying down in his bed when he woke up. 

He shook his head, looking around to try and orient himself. He was in Tommy’s bed, but Tommy was not there, and his hand was wrapped around something in the sheets. Ranboo pulled it out, and his heart skipped a beat.

A knife was in Ranboo’s hand.

A knife was in his hand, and Tommy was not there, and the sheets were red.

Ranboo dropped the knife and scrambled backward, gasping. Tommy’s not here, and I had a knife, and I don’t know where I got it from, and Tommy’s not here—!

Ranboo whined and grabbed his wrist. His fingernails dug into the scars there, and the pain allowed him to calm down slightly. 

Okay, Ranboo, breathe. The knife isn’t dirty, and Tommy’s sheets are always red. But Tommy isn’t here. So where’s Tommy? Ranboo dug his fingernails in harder. Dream didn’t— no, no, Dream’s not here, he doesn’t— he couldn’t—

The voices were muttering nonsense, filling his head with static. Ranboo choked. He couldn’t get enough air.

But he said he’s in control— right? But he can’t— Tommy’s not here, so where is he? I don’t remember. I don’t know where he is. How am I here? When did I. . . There’s a knife in Tommy’s bed and I don’t know where he is. I need to know where he is. I need to find Tommy.

Ranboo forced himself to move, grab the knife and get down the bunk bed, hide the knife under his mattress— why? — unclip the monitor— no, there are no monitors here — leave the room, check the bathroom, go downstairs, wander around, confused, then—

Tommy was snoring.

Ranboo just stood and stared, the voices celebrating and aww ing in his mind. Tommy was sleeping on the couch, and Miss Kristin was sleeping, too, hugging him.

So Tommy was safe.

He’s the one they really care about.

Ranboo bit the corner of his mouth until it drew blood. He shouldn’t be jealous, of course, Dream was right, but seeing Tommy so comfortable, leaning against his mother like only the Elytrians were allowed to. . . Ranboo wanted that. 

Technoblade, a voice whispered, and Ranboo blinked, looking around. 

Techno appeared at the bottom of the stairs in a fluffy pink bathrobe. He spotted Ranboo and froze for a moment, then gave a small wave and walked into the kitchen. Something clinked, and then he returned, squinting at Tommy on the couch.

“Of course he has my favorite mug,” Techno muttered. “Hi Ranboo.”

“H-hi?”

Techno grunted and walked back to the kitchen, and with nothing else to do, Ranboo followed him. They said nothing as he made himself a cup of cough-ee, and only after he had taken a long drink of it did he speak. “What’s up?”

Ranboo shifted and looked away. “Uh, it’s— it’s a direction?”

Techno just stared for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, okay, sure. I’m going to my room.”

He swept out with a flash of pink. Ranboo followed.

Techno’s room was neatly organized, fidget toys lined up by color on his windowsill, papers placed at 90-degree angles under large stacks of books so they didn’t blow away from the open balcony. 

“So, uh,” Techno said, closing the balcony door and frowning when it opened again by itself. “You’re in my room.”

“Oh, um, yep,” Ranboo said, scratching his wrist. “I just kinda followed you. Sorry.”

Techno sat against the balcony door, sipping his cough-ee. “‘S fine. Did ya want to talk to me about somethin’?”

Us, us, techno, us, them, we are here, yes, technoblade, us, talk, yes, us

Ranboo winced at the yells. Techno frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sir,” Ranboo said hurriedly. He tried to think of something they could talk about. “Um, I like your toys?”

Techno glanced at the windowsill. “Yeah. They help me quiet my mind from—“

✿

Voices in the dark.

❀

“—boo?”

Ranboo blinked. Techno raised an eyebrow at him. “You zoned out. Are you good?”

“What?”

“You okay? You zone out a lot,” Techno said.

“I do?” Ranboo racked his mind, trying to remember when it had happened before. “Um, I think I just blacked out for a moment. . . I don’t remember.”

“You forget things a lot, too.” Techno took another sip of cough-ee. 

“R-really?” Ranboo frowned. “I mean, yeah, I don’t remember a lot of things. . . I just get fuzzy sometimes I guess. . .”

✿

A lime smile.

❀

“—the hell?”

Ranboo flinched back. Techno was right in front of him.

“Your voice changed. What’s going on?” Techno grabbed his shoulder. “Your voice was different. It sounded like—“

✿

Angry chanting.

❀

Techno wiped blood from his nose. “What. The. Hell.”

Ranboo glanced down. His fist was covered in blood.

Oh no.

Ranboo immediately dropped to the ground, chirping. “S-sorry, I didn’t m-mean to, I zoned out again, I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again, p-please. . .”

His throat closed up and he curled in on himself. He was at the Essempí, and he did something wrong, and they were going to hurt him— they must hurt him, because what was life without pain—

“Kid.”

Breathe, stop, calm, stop, stop, sad, boo, breathe, bregsg, stopp, calm, calm, safe, shush, calm, breathe, breath, stop 

“Kid!”

It was only a whisper, but it pierced through the voices like a shout. Ranboo opened his eyes. Techno was kneeling on the carpet, hands hovering over him.

“I’m not going to touch you again, okay? But you kinda need to, y’know,” Techno scratched his neck awkwardly. “Breathe? Calm down? I don’t know, I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut. The voices quieted, but continued to talk to him. He took a shaky breath, then another. 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Techno sighed and stood, grabbing a fistful of white papery things from his desk and dabbing at his nose with them.

Ranboo scooted to a seated position. Tears fell from his eyes, and he willed them to stop. Can’t be weak, can’t be sad. Be happy, Ranboo, be happy. 

“Shush,” Techno said. Ranboo flinched. Had he said that out loud?

Techno stared at the desk for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

“P-pardon?” Ranboo stuttered.

Techno turned to him. “Oh, uh, don’t mind me. I was just talking to—“

✿

The crowd was moving, walking from the edges of the room to the front.

❀

“—y can’t you hear me talk about them? What’s happening?”

Ranboo wiped at his eyes. “W-what?”

“The voi—“

✿

“Shit,” Dream said. “Whatever. You were bound to figure it out eventually.”

❀

“Whenever I talk about them, you zone out!” Techno said, frustrated. 

“Talk about who?” Ranboo asked. He felt at his face. Why was he crying?

“The voices!” Techno whisper-shouted.

Ranboo froze.

Technohelp, us, us, tell, us, talk, tell him, technosoft, us, them, we, talk, talk, talk, talk

“Y-you. . .” Ranboo gasped. “you know. . .”

“I hear voices, kid,” Techno said, “and every time I mention them you go weird and can’t remember what I’m talking about!”

Ranboo whined, choking and changing it to a chirp at the end. Techno blinked in bewilderment. “Ranboo?”

“I don’t remember how,” Ranboo whimpered, “But I hear voices, too.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

The voices exploded. 

YES, YES, YES, US TOO, WE ARE ONE, YES, WE KNOW, PROTECT, YES, POG, YES, YES, YES, TECHNOPROTECT, RANBOO, YES, POG, E, VOICEBOO, TECHNOSOFT, YES, YESJDJ, YES, YES, OMG, YES, VOICES, HE KNOWS, YES, YES, COMFORT, HELP, YES

Techno hissed, grabbing a fidget cube from the windowsill. He counted seconds mentally while playing with it, until at seventy-six, the voices retreated from shouts to excited chatters.

Ranboo was crying again, biting his sleeve and rocking gently back and forth. Techno just stared at the small boy, until one of the voices came to the front and yelled, HE HEARS US TOO, followed by another, TECHNOPROTECT.

Techno skimmed his fingers past his line of toys before selecting his favorite, a dark purple dodecagon with various switches and textures on each side. He pressed it into Ranboo’s hands, and sat on the floor. Ranboo was making chirping noises, as the Enderians did, and instinctively he chirped back in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

Okay, this is a lot. . . Ranboo hears them, too, he thought. But why? How? How long has he heard them? Why does he forget things? 

Techno sighed and hit his head against the bed. The balcony door creaked open again, letting cold air in, but neither of them moved to close it. It was a soothing distraction from the chaos in his— their? Heads.

Techno decided to break the silence, because the kid sure as hell wasn’t going to. “How long?”

Ranboo shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Recently.”

Techno hummed. “So. . . I’ve never met anyone with them, besides me of course. Um. . . Do you have any. . . questions?”

“Questions?” Ranboo laughed a little. “I don’t know, man. I’m just. . . scared.”

And Techno remembered. He had woken up alone but surrounded by whispers. His mind was fuzzy and full, and he wanted it to stop. He thought it would go away, but after the second year he gave up hope. It took another three years to accept that the crowd in his mind was now a part of him, and more than five years after that to tell Wilbur about them. 

He had told Wilbur on a night like this, with tears and blankets and hugs. He had been with Wilbur for long enough to know that if there was anyone on Earth he could trust, it was his brother.

Ranboo had only known him for a few weeks now, and Ranboo had just told him. 

To hell if he thinks he doesn’t want to be touched, Techno thought, and scooped the boy into his arms, holding him close in a hug. To his surprise, Ranboo didn’t pull away, but squeezed him back, sobbing into his hair.

“Chat’s saying a lot of aww’s right now,” Techno murmured.

Ranboo sniffed. “What?”

“Chat. That’s what the voices call themselves.” No, he was not crying, chat, shut up. “Just don’t listen to them. Focus on your breath. Focus on the feeling of your clothes against your skin. Focus on the texture of the carpet. If you don’t acknowledge them, they’ll be quieter. Usually.”

Ranboo pulled back slightly and wiped at his eyes. “I hate them.”

“I used to, too.” Techno sighed. “But they didn’t leave. You’ll learn to live with it. You won’t have to. . . You won’t have to deal with it on your own like I had to.”

Ranboo took a shuddering breath. “I’m scared.”

Techno hugged him tighter. “I know.”

Technosoft

Chapter Text

Tommy was woken far too early two days later by Wilbur launching himself on top of him.

“Wake up!” He whisper-shouted. “It’s Chrimsmass!”

Tommy squinted at him groggily. “Wha’?”

“It’s Chrimsmass!” Wilbur grabbed the bunk bed railing and did a somersault around it. An ‘oof’ came from below as he landed on Ranboo. “Get up, it’s Chrimsmass!”

Tommy yawned. “What time is it?”

“Three forty five,” Wilbur said. “Exactly two hours and fourteen minutes after Mum and Dad finished arranging the presents downstairs, which means that in fifteen minutes, we’ll be allowed to wake them up and go downstairs. Come on, we have to wake Techno!”

“Why do we have to do it so early ?” Ranboo groaned.

Wilbur jumped around the room, flapping his hands. “Because it’s CHRIMSMASS!”

“Right, right,” Tommy said, climbing carefully down the ladder, “well, let’s see what this Christmas is all about.”

It turned out that Techno was already awake, reading a philosophy book under several layers of thick blankets. He didn’t react as Wilbur ripped them all off, one at a time, and then jammed a half-circle with fake deer horns on it onto Techno’s head.

“It’s Chrimsmass, Technodeer!” Wilbur exclaimed cheerfully.

Techno raised his hand, revealing that he had been hiding a stopwatch in his book. “8.52 seconds to get the blankets off. A new record.”

Wilbur pouted. “You used weighted blankets this year, it wasn’t fair.”

“Are there rules?” Techno said, raising his book again. “No. So anything is fair.”

“If I have to wait until four to wake Mum and Dad up, you have to use your regular blankets on your bed,” Wilbur said. “Now come on, only fourteen minutes before it’s present time!”

Techno set the book on his bedside table. “Now Wilbur, as much as I like presents, Kristin gave me a twenty to keep you from waking them prematurely. So. . .” Techno lunged forward and grabbed Wilbur around the waist, pulling him into the bed. 

“What?!” Wilbur squawked, squirming. “I’m not going to wake them early, I promised Dad I wouldn’t! Get off me!”

Techno hummed. “Puttin’ tinsel on their faces does not count as lettin’ them sleep.”

“What’s tinsel?” Tommy said.

“Sparkly shiny itchy,” Techno replied simply.

Wilbur reached his hand out dramatically. “Ranboo. Ranboo my beloved, rescue me.”

Tommy gasped in mock offense. “No one calls Ranboo beloved but me!”

“And Tubbo,” Ranboo muttered.

“And Tubbo.” Tommy yawned. “So can we go back to bed, or. . .?”

“NO!” Wilbur yelled. Techno slapped his hand over his mouth. “Is Chrimsmssmm!” Wilbur mumbled indignantly.

Techno took off his deer-horn headband and wrestled it onto Wilbur’s head. “If you’re so festive, you can wear this.”

Wilbur flailed a little more, then squinted. Techno wrinkled his nose and jerked his hand away. “Ew. Don’t lick me.”

“Fuckin’ deserved it,” Wilbur said. “Let me go or I’ll lick your whole arm.”

“The arm covered in pajamas?” Techno said dryly.

Wilbur hesitated, then bent his neck and dragged his tongue up the length of Techno’s arm.

“That’s not very sanitary,” Ranboo whispered to Tommy.

Tommy shrugged. “Wilbur rarely is.”

Wilbur stuck out his lip and pouted. “Techno, please? Only twelve minutes!”

“Mmm. . . No.” 

“But presents!”

“But parents.”

“I thought you were against authoritative figures!”

Techno considered for a moment, then shook his head. “Parents don’t really count as a government. Give it up, Wil, I’m not lettin’ you go until it’s four.”

Wilbur hung limp for a moment, then grinned mischievously. “Well, since we’re just waiting here, how about I tell Tommy and Ranboo about the meatball incident?”

“What’s a meatball?” Ranboo asked.

“Do we want to know?” Tommy said, raising his eyebrows. “Sounds awfully sus.”

“Well you see,” Wilbur began, and a look of fear flashed across Techno’s face. “Two months after we started fostering Techno, Phil decided to make spaghetti, and—“

“Fine, you win!” Techno lifted his arms and Wilbur wasted no time in scrambling off the bed. 

“Great! Now follow, children!” Wilbur said, and ran out of the room.

“I’m two years older than him,” Techno muttered.

Wilbur was bouncing off the walls in Phil and Kristin’s room, yelling at them to hurry and get up, it’s Chrimsmass!

“Wha’ time issit?” Phil grumbled. A strand of silvery stuff— must be tinsel, Tommy thought— was wrapped around his golden hair, and a Santa hat was covering Kristin’s face. Tommy wasn’t sure where Wilbur had gotten them from, because they definitely weren’t there when they were in Techno’s room.

“Present time!” Wilbur shouted excitedly. He was flapping his hands so fast Tommy almost thought he might start rising off the ground.

Kristin lifted the hat and squinted over at her alarm clock. “It’s not four yet! Techno!”

Techno shrugged. “Eh, peer pressure.”

Kristin sighed and sat up. “Neither of you get the wishbone tonight, it’s going to Tommy and Ranboo.”

“What?!” Wilbur and Techno shouted in unison.

Phil flopped off the bed like a sad drowned cat. “Issonly fair, boys, besides it’s Ronny and Tamboo’s firs’ Chrimsmass. . .”

Ronny and Tamboo, Ranboo mouthed. Tommy tapped it on the bed’s footboard, and Ranboo repeated it back, snorting in amusement.

Wilbur let out a long, dramatic groan, then grabbed Phil’s hand and yanked at it. “I don’t even care, it’s worth it. Present time, Santza!”

“I understand not a single part of this,” Tommy said, “but I do like gifts, and everyone seems very hyped about Chrissamast, so I guess I’ll be on Wilbur’s side?” Tommy leaned down and took Phil’s other hand. “Onward, Wilbur!”

They weren’t able to drag him very far before Techno used his powers to help, picking up Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy and marching down the stairs with a sleepy Kristin and Ranboo following close behind.

Tommy’s jaw dropped upon entering the living room. The tree which everyone had for some reason insisted on putting in the house was lit with lights, casting a warm yellow glimmer across a massive array of red, green, and blue boxes and bags and glinting off of silver and gold spheres hung on its spiny branches. A strand of the ‘tinsel’ was draped across the mantle over oversized, overflowing socks with each person’s name in silver at the top.

Techno dumped everyone on the couch, and took a seat on the floor, eyes shining. “Beautiful arrangement this year, Kristin.”

“And the embroidery on the stockings!” Wilbur said, grinning from ear to ear. “Look Tommy, see? It’s your name! And there’s one for Ranboo, too!”

“Well we weren’t going to leave anyone out!” Kristin pulled her phone out and began snapping pictures. “Although it’s a little sloppily done, I had to rush to finish it.”

“What are stockings?” Tommy said, still just staring at all the shiny trinkets and baubles that had appeared magically overnight.

“The giant socks,” Phil said. “It’s an American tradition Kristin’s brought over. Weird, isn’t it? Shove a bunch of oranges and shit into massive socks.”

“At least they’re not shoes, ” Kristin laughed. “Why don’t we start with them? Go get 'em, boys.”

Wilbur had his sock’s contents dumped out on the floor before anyone else had even gotten theirs off the mantle. Tommy took his own place on the floor next to Ranboo. They were both delighted to find a plethora of candies and little gifts inside, charcoal sticks for Tommy and a leather bookmark for Ranboo.

“We get to keep all this?” Ranboo said quietly. He rubbed his thumb over the bookmark as though he wouldn’t ever see it again.

“It’s all yours,” Phil said, popping some chocolate in his mouth. “Merry Christmist.”

Ranboo smiled and looked down again. “Thank you.”

Tommy stared at the shiny cubes littering the ground. “Wait, you’re supposed to put the gifts in boxes and stuff?!”

“Oh so that’s what those are,” Ranboo said.

Tommy jumped to his feet and dashed to the stairs. “I’ll be right back, hang on!”

He didn’t have any shiny things to cover the gifts he had gotten, so he wrapped them carefully in his clothes and pillowcase. It wasn’t the prettiest, there were no ribbons or tags or bows, but it would work. Tommy gathered everything up in his arms and ran back downstairs, placing his fabric-wrapped gifts by the other boxes.

Ranboo shifted uncomfortably. “I, um, should get my stuff, too.”

“Yeah!” Tommy said, grinning. “It’s present time, Boo!”

“Fuck yeah it is,” Wilbur muttered. Chocolate was smeared by the corners of his mouth.

Ranboo returned just a moment later, a grocery bag clutched tightly in his hands. He sat down with it, looking embarrassed. “Um, I didn’t know about what I was supposed to do, so I’ll just hand it to you if that’s okay? Sorry.”

“All good, mate!” Phil said. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Techno twisted a new fidget toy around in his hands. “Who’s older between the two of you?”

Tommy sighed and hung his head. “Ranboo.”

“Great!” Kristin clapped her hands. “Tommy, you’re first! Youngest to oldest!”

Well now that’s just not fair, Ranboo tapped on the wall. 

“Yes! Youngest rights!” Tommy yelled, punching the air. He hesitated, and lowered his arms. “What exactly are the rules?”

“Grab a present labeled for someone else and give it to them,” Techno said. “We all take turns doing that until all the presents are all opened.”

“Oh.” Tommy looked at the presents. “OH! That makes sense!” He grabbed the nearest box and read the tag. “For Phil, from. . . I’m not reading that aloud.”

Kristin laughed. “Do it.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose, handing the gift over to Phil. “From your Smoochie Poo.”

Phil chuckled, digging his fingernails into the box and ripping it open. “Aww.” He pulled out a green and white striped bucket hat. “Oh wow! This is awesome!” He put it in his head, and somehow it matched his green bathrobe perfectly in the most bizarre way possible. “Thanks, Smoochie Poo!”

Kristin blew him a kiss. Wilbur and Tommy gagged.

Ranboo looked in his bag. “So. . . I guess I’m next. I’ll just hand this to you? Uh, it’s for Techno.”

Techno blinked, slightly startled. “Second gift, let’s go.”

Ranboo lifted a plastic crown from his grocery bag. “I-it’s not very fancy, but it looked like something you would wear, so. . .”

Techno murmured something under his breath and took the crown reverently, placing it on his head. It fit perfectly. “Thanks, kid. This is. . . well, according to Chat, I ‘finally look complete’, so thanks.”

Phil laughed. “Now all you need is a cape.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “That would complete the look. . . Maybe with my poet’s shirt. . .”

“MY TURN!” Wilbur yelled. He leaned across Phil on the couch and grabbed a box. 

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

A knock came at George’s door.

“Just a minute, Syllvian,” George called. “I’m almost done with this.”

“Doesn’t look like you are.”

George turned. “Dream?”

Dream leaned against the doorframe. “Wow. You call that packing? It looks like someone went harba-dancing in your suitcase.”

“Does not!” George yelled. “Prime, Dream, did you really come halfway across the palace just to make fun of me?”

Dream laughed. “Mostly, yeah. But I actually got you something for your trip.”

“Really?” George said, skeptical. Dream was not the sort of person to give gifts. “What is it?”

Dream opened his fist. In the center of his palm was a grey crystal earring. “Sapnap has one too. I want you to wear it the entire time you’re gone.”

George stared at it. “But my ears aren’t even pierced. . .?”

“You’ll figure it out.” Dream dropped the earring onto George’s hand and turned to leave. “Merry Chrissamasst.”

George blinked. “What. . .?”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

The presents were all handed out altogether too soon. To Tommy’s relief, everyone loved the gifts he had bought or made. Wilbur had gotten a nerf gun, Techno a new plushie horse he called Carl, Phil a crow figurine (it just suited him), Kristin a floppy black sun hat, and for Ranboo he had made a tissue-paper allium.

Tommy himself had gotten his own fair share of gifts, but his favorites were probably the Sunday Best sweater from Wilbur and the new sketchbook from Ranboo. Phil and Kristin had also gotten him a phone, and Techno paid for him to have Spotify premium. 

“Ranboo, listen to this!” Tommy hit the play button on the song.

“Is that Able Sisters from Animal Crossing?” Wilbur said in exasperation. “That’s not even real music!”

Ranboo scratched at his crown (turns out, he and Techno had gotten each other the same thing). “It is pretty weird.”

Tommy shook his head mournfully. “I can’t believe I ever thought you two might have good music tastes.”

“My music tastes are— are absolutely impeccable!” Wilbur spluttered. “I thought you liked my music!”

“Well the stuff you play is fine, it’s just what you listen to that’s. . .” Tommy wiggled his hand. “Meh.”

“Oh I’ll show you meh,” Wilbur said, lunging for the phone. Tommy yelped and fell backwards, kicking his feet. Wilbur lay on top of him, and soon they were rolling across the floor, wrestling.

“Ranboo.”

Tommy grabbed at Wilbur’s hair, but he dodged it and licked Tommy’s hand instead.

“Why is that your first defense?!” Tommy yelled, wiping the spit on Wilbur’s pajamas. 

“Ranboo?”

Wilbur managed to pin Tommy’s legs and finally snatched the phone, waving it over his head triumphantly. “And now we make you follow me on Spotify!”

“Guys!” Techno barked, making them hesitate. “Look at Ranboo.”

Tommy craned his neck from the floor. Ranboo was standing and swaying slightly in place, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Ayo, you good, Boob boy?” Tommy said. Ranboo didn’t react.

“What do we do?” Wilbur whispered loudly, phone forgotten.

“Well I don’t fucking know,” Tommy said. “He never did this in the apartment.”

“Is it a voices thing? Like Chat?” Wilbur asked Techno.

“I don’t think so. The voices can be loud, but not loud enough to drown out everything. Besides, he should still be able to see us.” Techno waved his hand in front of Ranboo’s face to prove his point. Ranboo didn’t even blink.

Wilbur frowned. “Should we go get—“

Ranboo shook his head and blinked, looking around.

“Uh. . . hallo?” Tommy shoved Wilbur off him and looked at Ranboo with concern. “You good?”

Ranboo stared at him. “Yes.”

“Your voice sounds strange,” Techno said. “It’s higher than normal.”

Ranboo shrugged. “Weird.”

The room lapsed into tense silence. Ranboo’s eyes were flitting about from person to person.

“I’m going to use his— my power,” he announced.

Tommy gaped. “Wha— are you sure? You don’t have to! I almost had a panic attack the first time I made an illusion without permission. . .”

“I don’t need permission,” Ranboo said. Tommy frowned. His voice was higher. 

“O-okay,” Wilbur said, sharing a look with Techno. “Well, if you really want to, I guess. . . What’s your power, anyways?”

Ranboo hesitated. “It’s. . . a teleportation type. I’m just going to see if this works.”

Tommy pulled Wilbur to the side, out of Ranboo’s way. “I’m trying to remember. . . It’s just anywhere you can see, right?”

Ranboo nodded and turned in the direction of the kitchen. The room fell silent except for the sound of clattering pots and pans in the kitchen as Phil worked on dinner. Ranboo exhaled, concentrating. Purple light shone from the pinpricks on his wrists briefly, there was a burst of particles, and then—

Ranboo’s legs were dangling from inside the walk-in pantry door, as though he had started phasing through it but became solid halfway. A muffled shout came from the pantry.

Phil yelped. “What the—?! BOYS!!”

“WASN’T ME!” Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy all yelled in unison.

Phil ran over to the pantry and opened the door carefully. Ranboo blinked, looking down. “Uhhhh, hello? How exactly did this happen?”

“Wha— I don’t bloody know!” Phil spluttered. “What— how— what did you do? Aw shit, the goose— KRISTIN! Techno, help me with dinner, Tommy and Wilbur, help Kristin get Ranboo out of the door. How did he even. . .?”

Techno ran to the kitchen with Phil, where something was beginning to smell burnt. Kristin appeared from upstairs and froze. “What the—“

“Ranboo tried teleporting,” Wilbur explained. 

Ranboo’s eyes widened. “I what? N-no, I didn’t— I don’t remember doing that, I didn’t use my powers—“ 

“Okay, well we all saw you do it,” Wilbur said, confused. “And there’s no other way you could have ended up like that, so now the question is not how you got there, but how to get you out. ”

Ranboo stared at his hands, then let them drop and hang limply against the door. “Okay. Okay, just get me out.” 

Tommy nodded. “Right. But first. . .” He pulled out his new phone and took a picture. “That’s going to be my new wallpaper.”

“Tommy!” Kristin scolded, then bent down and whispered, “Send that to me.”

Chapter Text

Two months later

“This is a horrible idea.”

Tubbo grinned at Ranboo, who was pressed against his backyard fence. “It’s a great idea. Trust me, this is going to be epic.”

“Where did you even get liquid diteron?” Tommy said.

Tubbo checked the thermometer in the bowl of water. 70 degrees . “It’s liquid nitrogen, and my science teacher let me borrow it! He was hesitant at first, but since Mum’s here and you’ve never seen this experiment before, he said I could have it for an hour. He’s really into ‘expanding human intellect’ and stuff.”

He screwed the lid onto the bottle of liquid nitrogen tightly. “Alright, get ready! Three, two, one—!” He dropped the bottle into the bowl and set a trash can over it, then sprinted away. Half a second later, tbe garbage can shot straight up with a plume of white smoke, higher than the house. Ranboo and Tommy gasped, and Tubbo punched the air, whooping and laughing.

“Did you see how high it went?!” Tubbo yelled, running to fetch the trash can from the other side of the backyard. “That must have been at least fifteen yards!”

“Hell yeah!” Tommy laughed. “How the fuck did you get it to do that without magic?!”

Tubbo wiggled his fingers at him. “Ssssscience!”

Ranboo walked over carefully, eyeing the remains of the experiment. “So who gave this to you, again?”

“My teacher.” Tubbo checked that the liquid nitrogen was tightly sealed off.

“Yeah, but. . .” Ranboo smiled a little. “What’s a teacher?”

Tubbo froze. “You. Don’t. Know. What a teacher is.”

Tommy chuckled nervously. “Uh. . . no?”

“Teacher. Like in school?” Tubbo said.

Ranboo and Tommy shared confused looks.

“OH MY GOD!” Tubbo screamed. “YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO SCHOOL?!”

Tommy threw up his hands. “Okay, maybe you should step away from the liquid nitrogen if it’s making you this upset—“

“SCHOOL!” Tubbo pressed his palms to his eyes, groaning. “Oh my god. You’ve never been to school. No math, no science. . .”

“Hey, we know math!” Ranboo said. “We had lessons every day on the screens.”

Tubbo squinted at him. “Hm. Square root of twenty five?”

“Five,” Tommy said instantly. “Come on, that’s way too easy.”

“Fair, fair.” Tubbo pulled out his phone. “Let’s see. 89 times 30.”

“2,670,” Ranboo and Tommy said at the same time.

Tubbo frowned. “You did that in your head?”

Tommy shrugged. “It’s easy, innit?”

“Hm. Okay, so you’re good at math, but not science, I guess.”

“Maybe. What exactly is science?” Tommy said.

“Science is like. . . Making observations about things to figure out how they work.” Tubbo scratched his neck. “It’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s the basic definition.”

“Huh. Yeah, we’ve never done anything like that,” Ranboo said.

Tubbo hummed. “Maybe you have different science in the End? There were floating islands, right? So that immediately defies physics.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “If we’re going to start naming everything in the End that’s different from this world, we’re going to be here all day.”

“Well not everything that’s different,” Tubbo said. “I’m just curious about the magic stuff. Like, how does that even work? Why do Elytrians not have magic? How do they even take it?”

Tommy and Ranboo winced. 

“Oh. . . sorry.” Tubbo cringed. “Forgot you don’t like talking about it.”

“‘S okay,” Tommy said. “Um. . . to be honest, we don’t really know how our magic works, either. It just kind of does, y’know? We never used it, so there was no reason to learn about it.”

Tubbo thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, do you want to?”

“What?” Ranboo said.

“Do you want to learn how your magic works? We can run some experiments!” Tubbo rocked back on his heels. “I mean, that’s what science is all about! Making discoveries!”

Ranboo eyed the liquid nitrogen. “I don’t think that would be very safe.”

“Well we aren’t using that. ” Tubbo gave them puppy-dog eyes. “Come on, please?! I haven’t seen you guys use your magic yet!”

Tommy hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, fine. As long as we stay in the backyard. We don’t want people to see us.”

Tubbo beamed. “Deal.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy sighed, picking at the grass. Purple particles drifted around Tubbo and Ranboo, who were standing frozen in place, eyes glazed over.

“Is it at least close to disappearing?” Tubbo said.

Tommy threw his hands up. “I don’t know! I can’t control when it stops!”

“It’s been fifteen minutes!” Tubbo said. “I have thoroughly observed the End! Is there any way you can at least change it to a movie or something?”

“I don’t know!” Tommy groaned, rubbing his wrists again. “Note: don’t sneak up on the Enderian.”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you,” Ranboo protested. “I teleported closer than I meant to! I was aiming for the tree!”

“Well, at least we didn’t have another pantry incident. That would be hard to explain to Puffy.” Tommy flopped backwards into the grass.

“Didn’t mean to. . .” Ranboo muttered.

“Are you sure you can’t change what we see?” Tubbo pouted. “It’s kinda creepy being in an empty city in another dimension.”

“I’m here, too!” Ranboo said. “And trust me, this level of creepiness is nothing compared to the palace.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “I mean, I can try to change it, but I won’t know if it’s working.”

“We’ll tell you if anything happens,” Tubbo said. 

“Okay. Well, any requests? Just somewhere I’ve been before.” Tommy picked at the grass.

“How about the park?” Ranboo suggested.

“You got it, Boob boy.” Tommy took a deep breath and tried to fill his head with images of the park.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes again. The purple particles were still drifting lazily through the air. “Anything?”

“Nope,” Tubbo said, popping the ‘p’. “Ranboo and I did find the Elytrian garden, though. You do realize these are just dandelions, right?”

“They’re considered extremely rare and delicate in the End,” Ranboo said.

Tommy groaned again. “Here, I’ll try again. Just be quiet.”

“Sure thing, bossman,” Tubbo said. “We’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

Mice are quiet? Tommy wondered. Whatever. Focus on the park.

He could picture it perfectly, so he didn’t know why it wasn’t working. The duck pond, the walking path, the fountain. . .

The tree where Phil got stuck. Tommy exhaled through his nose a little. The bench when Tubbo met Ranboo for the first time. The playground where we battled.

“Oy!” Tubbo yelled, excited. “You did it! We’re in the park!”

Tommy opened his eyes and sat up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah! I’m under a tree! Ranboo’s in the pond!” Tubbo laughed.

Ranboo shivered. “Why does your power have to make me feel wet, too?”

“Just teleport out,” Tubbo said. “Oh, or maybe you’ll teleport in real life and get out of the illusion!”

Ranboo’s brow crinkled. “I don’t know if that’ll work.”

Tommy stood up and moved out of Ranboo’s way. “Go ahead and try it, Boo.”

Ranboo sighed. “Okay.”

Ranboo’s wrists began glowing. Tommy stared at him, then followed his glassy gaze. If he was going to teleport. . . It would be right into the house wall.

“Uh, Ranboo. . .” he said.

Ranboo vanished in a burst of purple.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

The park was suddenly filled with people.

Ranboo blinked, looking around. “What the— Tubbo? Tommy?!”

A little kid ran up to him. “You just appeared!”

Ranboo gripped his wrist. “Uh. . .”

“Are you magic?!” The kid squealed.

“Uh. . . yes?” Ranboo said. 

The kid gasped. “Can you teach me?!”

“Um, not really.” Ranboo’s phone buzzed. “Oh, uh, I have to look at this. Bye?”

“Bye, magic man!” The kid yelled, and ran off.

Ranboo pulled out his phone. Tommy was texting him frantically.

>RANBOO

>WHERE ARE YOU

>BOO

>RANSNPO

>ANSNEKET ME

Hello?<

I’m in the park, what happened?<

>WHY ARE YOU IN THE PARK

>I THOUGHT YOU CANT TELEPORT SOMEWERE YOU CANT SEE?????

I don’t know.<

Can you come get me, please?<

There are small children.<

>ok were coming just dont talk to anyekne

>anyonw

>anyone

Ok.<

Ranboo sighed, slipping the phone back in his pocket. The kid was trying to hide behind a tree, staring at him with a massive grin on her face. 

Kids are creepy, Ranboo thought, and started walking on the park sidewalk, while the little girl trailed behind him.

Tommy, Tubbo, and Puffy arrived just a few minutes later, rescuing him from a very awkward conversation about no, magic isn’t learned , it’s taken forcefully. . .

Puffy wasn’t very happy with them. Tubbo and Tommy had to explain the whole yes, Ranboo and Tommy have magic situation on the car ride back to Phil’s house (Tubbo had been grounded).

Tubbo waved at them as they got out of the car. “Bye, sorry for making you guys do magic stuff.”

“Magic stuff,” Puffy repeated under her breath. Tubbo winced.

“See you, Tubs,” Tommy said. “Text me when you get your phone back, yeah?”

“K.” Puffy pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

Wilbur was eating a sandwich in the kitchen. He nodded as they came in. “Wassup?”

“Tubbo got grounded,” Tommy said.

Wilbur raised his eyebrows. “How come?”

Tommy glanced at Ranboo. “Well. . . We were playing around with magic and Ranboo accidentally teleported to the park.”

“I thought you couldn’t go anywhere you can’t see?” Wilbur said, finishing off his sandwich.

Ranboo shrugged. “I don’t know. . . I mean, technically I was seeing the park, it just wasn’t real.”

“He was in one of my illusions,” Tommy added.

Wilbur picked up his plate and brought it over to the sink. “Huh. So if you can teleport to wherever Tommy’s illusion is, doesn’t that mean you can go to the End?”

Ranboo and Tommy froze.

“Holy shit,” Tommy said.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Dream leaned back in his throne and smiled. “Finally.”

Chapter Text

Phil and Techno weren’t as keen on the idea of visiting the End as Tommy was.

“Are you seriously considering this?!” Phil spluttered. “You want to go back to the place you’ve been recovering from for months?!”

Tommy folded his arms. “It’s home! Besides, I wouldn’t be going alone, I’d bring you guys and Ranboo!”

Techno shook his head. “Tommy, do you realize how much strain that could put on Ranboo’s power? To recharge, you have to be happy. How are any of us supposed to be happy in the place where we were abused? We won’t have any way to get back to Earth.”

Tommy frowned. “We can jump in the void—“ 

“Which we also know nothin’ about,” Techno interrupted. “It may not work for everyone. Skeppy didn’t make it, and we don’t know how it will affect non-Enderians. Would you really put everyone’s lives at risk?”

Wilbur raised his hand tentatively. “Um, I agree with Tommy.”

“What?!” Phil yelled.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Wilbur said defensively. “We all go to the End, disguise Tommy and Ranboo somehow, and explore a little until Ranboo can recharge and take us back to Earth! They got to see our cultures and world, why can’t we do the same?”

“Because we have no way of guaranteeing that we’ll be safe. We’ve never been to the End—“

“But we’ve seen it in Tommy’s illusions!” Wilbur gestured toward Tommy. “We’ve explored the cities and islands, so we know the general appearance of the End, and we can teleport to an empty island, not the middle of a fucking city! We’ll be fine!”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re forgetting that Ranboo may not want to go back to the End.”

Ranboo pursed his lips. “Um. . . I don’t really care. . . if you guys really want to go, I might be able to take you? I’ve never teleported other people, though, so we'd have to see if I can do that.”

“Yeah, no pressure, of course,” Wilbur said, “I just think it would be an interesting opportunity!”

“That’s not good enough of a reason, mate,” Phil sighed. “It’s not like a simple vacation to the nearest castle, it’s a dangerous trip to another dimension.”

“Or planet,” Tommy mumbled. “Who knows?”

Techno huffed. “We’re not going. I never want to see that place again.”

Ranboo shook his head a bit, then sat up straight on the couch. “We have to go. What if we could find an Enderian city? One that hasn’t been taken by Dream?”

Tommy flinched at the name. Techno just frowned. “They’re extremely hard to find, Ranboo, we wouldn’t even know where to look, and without our wings, we can’t fly from island to island.”

“But he— I can teleport!” Ranboo bounced his knee, looking agitated. “And Tommy’s been to one. He just doesn’t remember. So maybe he can make an illusion there!”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah! Holy shit, if that works, I’ll finally get to see where I was born! Maybe there will be Enderians still living there!” 

“I don’t know. . .” Phil said.

Tommy clasped his hands together. “Please, Dad? What if my parents survived? What if they’re waiting for me? I’ve always wondered who they were! This could be our chance to find them!”

Phil looked away, biting his lip. “The chance of surviving, let alone actually finding anything is low, Tommy, surely you know that. . .”

“But there is a chance!” Tommy said fervently. “What if we find a city of Enderians? What if we find Techno’s Skeppy? What if we find our families?”

“What if you’re killed?!” Phil yelled. “What if the emperor finds you?! What if I let you go to your deaths?!”

“And what if we live?” Ranboo shot back. “We have to go to the End!”

“Look, Dad!” Tommy said, gesturing at Ranboo. “Do you really think we wouldn’t be suggesting this if we didn’t feel strongly about it?!”

Phil stood up from the couch. “This argument is getting us nowhere. I have to get back to work. We’ll vote on this when Kristin gets home.”

Phil left, and Wilbur and Tommy glanced at each other.

“No,” Techno said immediately.

“We’ll be careful!” Wilbur protested.

Techno raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t playing with powers again. Don’t make me tackle you.”

“If we’re going to go to the End—“ Tommy said.

“Which we aren’t, ” Techno interrupted.

Tommy put his hands on his hips. “Since we’re definitely going to the End—“

“Tommy,” Techno snapped.

“We should experiment with our powers so we know that we’ll be safe, and we need practice anyways—“

“If you want to relive your trauma, fine!” Techno’s veins glowed faintly. “I don't even care anymore. Go play around and pretend it’ll do anythin’ against the emperor. I’m not going to the End, and that’s final.” Techno stormed off, stomping upstairs to his room.

Wilbur sighed, then grinned at Tommy. “So. . . wanna go outside?”

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

The hallway was long and cold.

Dream’s breath puffed in the air from under his mask. Scrawny figures shrank back from the glass of their cells as he strode past. He counted each off in his mind as he walked, making sure all were in their places. They were. They always were.

At the end of the hallway was a neon sign with Dream’s own smile glowing lime green from it. Dream pressed a hidden button on the side of the sign, and the wall slid away, revealing another corridor with branching paths. A maze.

There were no lights in this labyrinth, and Dream was plunged into complete darkness as the door closed behind him. He flicked the switch on his mask, and the maze was thrown into sudden brightness as the faceplate slid down.

The maze was easy for him to navigate. Years ago, he had painted arrows on the ground to help him find the way, but now he had no need for them. They were scuffed and faded, anyways.

Finally he reached the end, and found another button to open the hidden door. The metal squeaked like an Enderian’s chirp as he closed it behind him and settled down on the floor.

Most Elytrians enjoyed lavish carpets and plump cushions in their recharging chambers. Theirs were decorated nicely with paintings and chandeliers, and the wealthier Elytrians even had little flaps in the wall where their servants could deliver food to them to enjoy as they waited. Dream’s did not have any of these things. The room he sat in was empty and bare, save for a single tiny photo of George and Sapnap he kept in the back corner. 

“Welcome, Emperor Dream!” The robotic woman’s voice greeted him. “Please select the Enderian you would like to borrow from today.”

A screen unfolded from the wall. Dream scrolled through the list of names and powers until he found the one he was looking for.

“Vikkstar, communication type,” the voice read out for him. “Preparing Enderian. Please stand by.”

Dream closed his eyes and slipped into 1696’s mind. It was teleporting around again, carrying the Earth boy with it. The Earth boy looked nauseous.

Surely that won’t stop him from coming to the End , Dream thought. Well, even if they don’t, I can always take over and convince Tommy.

“Process complete. Please prepare for recharging.”

Dream reached behind his head and unbuckled his mask, letting the porcelain drop into his lap. A gas mask lowered from the ceiling. Purple smoke filled the tubes connected to it.

Dream took the mask and pressed it over his mouth and nose.

Power filled his lungs. Dream closed his eyes, breathing deeply, feeling warmth spread through his veins. All tension in his muscles was released. Dream breathed in the power until he was full and his head was dizzy with energy, then removed the mask and replaced it with his own.

“Thank you for coming! Enjoy your day, Emperor!” The robotic voice clicked off.

Dream remained where he was. He checked with 1696 again; it was muttering to the voices, something about the Essempí. Good.

Dream touched the ruby earring dangling from his ear, and activated his power. Green light flooded into the gem. “Pyro.”

There was silence, then Sapnap’s voice sounded in his ear. “What— your majesty? How. . .”

“I have a job for you.”

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Kristin was surprised to come home to everyone sitting in the living room in a circle, waiting in silence for her. 

Phil explained the problem, with frequent interruptions from Tommy. Kristin listened with a solemn face until they were done, then took a seat, staring at Tommy thoughtfully.

“I have a question for you, Tommy,” she began. “What is your reason for going back to the End? In one sentence, why do you want to go so badly?”

“Kristin’s becoming an English teacher again,” Wilbur complained. Kristin stuck her tongue out at him.

Tommy chewed on his lip for a moment. “I want to see what we can discover.”

Kristin nodded. “Right,” she said, a spark in her eye. “But what about what we can do? ” She leaned forward. “Phil, what happens if we don’t go?”

Phil folded his arms. “Everyone survives, and we don’t have to risk anyone dying.”

“And life goes back to normal, right?” Everyone nodded a little. “And life in the End stays the same, too, right?”

The room stilled. Kristin looked around at everyone. “We don’t go, and the system with the Elytrians and Enderians stays the same. We relax at home, knowing that people are still being suppressed and killed every day. We keep living, happy with our comfortable lives while an entire race is growing up learning that pain is good.”

“Kristin!” Phil said, irritated. “How do you expect to change any of that? Who knows how many islands there are, all under the emperor’s control? What are we supposed to do, walk up and ask them nicely to stop stealing magic? Try and get the Enderians to rebel and send them all into panic attacks?”

“If all the islands are under the emperor’s control, then we kill the emperor,” Kristin said. 

The room erupted into shouts.

“You can’t fight the emperor! He’s unstoppable!”

“I don’t think I can even see him without breaking down, he really messed us up—“

“If you try to kill him, you’ll die—“

Kristin held up her hands. “I’m not saying we ourselves kill him. If we find an Enderian city, maybe we can convince them to fight. The Elytrians don’t have magic, they won’t be able to do anything!”

“They do have magic, and they know how to use it,” Techno said gruffly. “They aren’t helpless.”

“But neither are the Enderians.” Kristin looked at Phil. “Are we really going to pass this opportunity up?”

Phil stared at the carpet, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of going?”

Tommy, Wilbur, and Kristin raised their hands. Ranboo hesitated, then blinked a few times and raised his as well.

Phil nodded slowly, looking over at Techno. Techno kept his eyes on the floor, scowling. “I’m not going.”

“That’s fine, mate. I’ll stay with you.” Phil glanced back at Kristin, as if to say, are you sure ? Kristin nodded.

“Then it’s decided.” Phil stood. “Techno and I will stay at home while the rest of you go. . .” He sighed again. “. . .to the End.”

Chapter Text

Ranboo fell asleep and found himself, as he always did, surrounded by the watching Chat.

“Hello,” he said. He had learned that they liked to be greeted. It was number one on the list of rules he was making. Rule one: greet the crowd. Rule two: acknowledge the crowd now and then. Rule three: entertain the crowd.

They murmured their welcome, then one shadowy figure stepped forward. “Hello, Ranboo. Are you excited to go?”

The voices were gaining more volume and longer sentences by the day. Ranboo shrugged. “Um, kind of? I don’t remember raising my hand to vote, there are gaps in my memory again, but I guess everyone else needs me to come, so I might as well be happy about it.” He scratched the scars on his wrist. “I mean, you’re meant to be happy in the End, anyways.”

The crowd shifted, upset. Ranboo threw up his hands. “It’s just the facts! It’s not that bad, guys, that’s just the way things work there!”

Another figure took a step forward. “Ranboo, I love you.”

Ranboo hesitated. “Uhhhh. . . thank. . . you?”

The figure was grabbed and yanked back into the crowd and replaced by another. “Are you packed for the trip?”

“You literally watched me pack!” Ranboo said, remembering the crowd arguing about what he should bring and where he should place it in his backpack. They had insisted on bringing a giraffe toy for some reason. 

Ranboo glanced around the crowd. He felt like someone else should be talking right now. His eyes flicked automatically to the wall, but it was just a black void like always. What had he expected? Why did he. . .

“Do you hate us?” A figure said. Chat went silent, then began whispering quietly to each other.

Ranboo turned, but the figure had already retreated into the crowd. “W—what? No, I don’t— I mean, it’s inconvenient, sometimes, and I get headaches when you’re too loud. . . But I’m getting used to it, and you can’t leave, anyways, so. . .”

“Would you like us to leave?” A voice said behind him.

Ranboo spun in a circle, looking into the sea of shadows. “You. . . can’t. . . can you?

The crowd began chanting numbers. “Four million. Three million eight hundred seventy two thousand thirty. Three million eight hundred fifty. Three million—“

“You’re leaving?” Ranboo grabbed his wrist. “But I don’t. . . I don’t understand, did I do something wrong?”

A figure stepped up to try and say something, but the voices were so loud Ranboo couldn’t make out what they were trying to tell him.

The crowd chanted louder and louder, numbers falling, and then darkness swallowed him and he woke up.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

“Do you have everything?” Phil said, worried. “Hiking boots? Rope? Snacks?”

Kristin nodded, filling up her water bottle. “I think so. I mean, if we forget anything, Ranboo can just teleport us back, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil said. He unzipped Kristin’s backpack and started going through it. “You have a change of clothes, good, extra water, good, toilet paper, good. . .”

“I got everything!” Kristin shooed him away. “We’ll be fine, Phil.”

Phil sighed, taking her hands. “I know, I know, I’m just worried.”

Kristin touched her forehead to his. “First sign of danger, and I’ll ask Ranboo to teleport us home, okay?”

“Promise me you’ll come back,” Phil whispered.

“I promise.” Kristin kissed him.

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Tommy bounced on his heels, grinning. “Can we go yet?!”

“Hang on, Toms,” Kristin said. “Everyone got their backpacks?”

Wilbur gave her a thumbs up.

“Mum, this bandage itches,” Tommy complained.

“Too bad. Leave it on. It’s easier than concealer and will hide your dragon.” Kristin glanced around one last time, then kissed Phil and stepped away. “Alright. Everyone touch Ranboo. Ranboo, are you ready?”

Ranboo nodded, smiling slightly as everyone grabbed his arms. Tommy gave him a hug from behind.

“Okay,” Tommy said, taking a deep breath. “Illusion time.”

I’m going to the End! he thought. I might find my parents! We might rescue everyone!

His veins began glowing, and the room was filled with purple particles. “Is it the right place?”

“It’s the Essempí,” Techno said. He activated his power, forcing his eyes shut. “Change it.”

“Right, sorry, hang on.” Tommy closed his eyes as well, concentrating. It had been so long since he had seen anything but the city. . .

. . .he was five, and they had just arrived at a strange new place. . .

No. Before that. What came before that?

. . .They were hungry. . . And his legs were going numb. . .

Tommy winced, burying his face in the back of Ranboo’s shirt. He didn’t want to think about that. He had to find something happy.

. . .

. . .A girl’s voice, a rustle of wings. . .

Wilbur gasped. “It changed!”

There was a flash of purple, Tommy’s stomach lurched, and then they were gone.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Wilbur stumbled on the suddenly dusty ground and clutched his stomach, retching. Kristin and Tommy behaved similarly, groaning and covering their mouths. Ranboo just blinked and looked around, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Holy shit,” Tommy said, “I am so glad I don’t have your power.”

“Tommy,” Ranboo whispered, “Where are we?”

Wilbur glanced around. They were definitely in the End, that part was certain. The sky was a blank sheet of black, and the ground they stood on was pale and crumbly, like they were on the moon. Dark furrows scratched the stone around them, and a decaying purple-wood shelter sat dismally in front of them.

“Um. . . I don’t know.” Tommy’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I just remember a voice, and then here we are. . .”

“Here we are,” Kristin repeated, eyes shining. “The End.”

Wilbur adjusted his glasses, squinting at the shelter. “What is that?”

“Dunno.” Tommy walked over to it and rummaged around. “There’s just a bunch of blankets and shit— Ow! Fuck, splinter!”

Kristin sighed, taking off her backpack. “Less than a minute in and we already need the first aid kit. Please be careful, Tommy.”

Wilbur kicked at the ground. “Well, it’s pretty much the same as the illusions except Tommy’s here, which is good. Can I explore around a bit, Mum?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kristin said, pulling Tommy’s splinter out. “Just stay in sight and take Ranboo with you.”

Wilbur gave her a thumbs up. “C’mon Ranboo, let’s go.”

Ranboo shrugged, coming up beside him as he began to walk off. “There isn’t a lot to see out here, it’s just floating islands and chorus trees.”

“Chorus trees,” Wilbur repeated. “As in chorus fruit?”

“Yep. It doesn’t look like there are any on this island.”

Wilbur huffed. “Well, hopefully there’s something here.”

They reached the edge of the island. Wilbur leaned out over the cliff edge. “There’s a ledge below.”

Ranboo grabbed him and peeked out. “Yeah. If we fall, we’re dead.”

“Cheery,” Wilbur muttered, pulling back from the edge. “Mumza, are you done yet?”

Kristin looked over from where she and Tommy were examining the shelter. “Yeah, find something?”

“Nope. Doesn’t look like there’s anything here.”

Tommy jogged over. “The shelter’s a good sign, at least. We found some Enderian clothes, so someone’s been here. A city might be close.”

“Cool.” Wilbur shifted his backpack higher. “Well, let’s explore the rest of the island, and if nothing’s here, hopefully we can find something that can help us.”

“If there’s another island in the distance, I can teleport us there,” Ranboo said. “I think I just need to recharge.”

“Right.” Kristin exhaled, then smiled confidently. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?”

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Twenty minutes later, the entire island had been scoured with no results except the discovery of a single twisting chorus tree and a smudge of an island maybe a kilometer away. 

Wilbur tapped his finger against his arm, considering. “Okay. If that’s the only island we can see, then we should go there. The island is slightly below us, so we can see the top, which is good. If it were above us, we’d teleport onto the side and fall. Ranboo, you ready?”

Ranboo nodded. “I should be good, yeah.”

“Alright.” Wilbur grabbed Ranboo’s arm gently. Kristin and Tommy did the same.

Ranboo took a deep breath, Wilbur’s stomach twisted again, and then they were standing on a tiny island hardly big enough for them to all stand on.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kristin yelled, grabbing them. “Careful!”

Wilbur shuffled closer to Ranboo, moving away from the edge. His boot sent a few cream-colored pebbles scattering off into the void. 

Ranboo glanced around. “There’s another island over there, I think I can get us there.”

“Do it,” Kristin said shakily, and Wilbur remembered suddenly that she was afraid of heights. “Quickly, please.”

“Okay, right, hang on.” They teleported again, right on the edge of the island.

“RANBOO, RANBOO—“ Tommy yelled, grabbing at air. His foot slipped.

“TOMMY!” Kristin screamed, lunging for his hand, but it was too late. With a last echoing scream, Tommy fell and disappeared into the void.

“Move back, move back!” Wilbur tugged Kristin and Ranboo away from the cliff. “He’s okay, he’s okay, he’ll just appear on Earth, it’s okay.”

“We don’t know that!” Kristin yelled, hyperventilating. “He could have died, or appeared somewhere dangerous. . . What if he appeared in the middle of a road?!”

Wilbur ran his hand through his hair. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. How is he supposed to get back here?!”

Ranboo looked around wildly, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please work,” he muttered.

Wilbur looked back at him just in time to see him run and dive off the island, jumping off into the void as Tommy had. Kristin yelled in shock, running to the edge and looking down. “RANBOO!”

“Mum, mum, it’s fine,” Wilbur said, pulling her back again. “Shit. Fuck. It’s fine, it’s fine, they’re safe, it’s fine. Shit. ”

Kristin sat on the ground, hands shaking. “They just. . . Wilbur, they. . .”

“I know, I know, it’s fine,” Wilbur repeated. He started pacing, then glanced back at the edge, but no one had appeared. “ Shit! ”

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up to the smell of baking bread. He sat up groggily, looking around. He wasn’t in the End anymore, that was certain. Golden sunlight was filtering through a cracked door to his left. He was lying on a tile floor, next to an oven. Tommy peered inside. Yep. Bread.

“SCAR!” Someone yelled. Tommy flinched and hid himself under a counter. 

“Where did that come from?!” The voices were coming from the front of what Tommy assumed must be a bakery.

“Nowhere! Don’t worry about it!”

“Scar. . .”

“Grian.”

“Scar.”

The second person sighed. “Well. . . you know the baguette you threw away last week?”

“You didn’t. ”

There was a sharp crunch.

“SCAR!!”

“It’s a perfectly good baguette, I don’t know why you threw it away, it still tastes fine—“

“It’s weeks old! How are you even eating that right now?!”

“It’s not that stale. Here, try some!”

“No!!”

“I wouldn’t mind a stale baguette,” Tommy muttered.

The bakery went silent. Well, shit.

Tommy watched a pair of boots walk across the tile, and then the man bent over into view. He had curly hair like Tubbo’s and a red sweater on. “Hello there!”

Tommy, unsure of what to do, just waved. “Hey.”

“Are you alright?” The man grinned nervously. “You’re not, uh, really where you’re supposed to be.”

Tommy flushed and scrambled out from the counter, leaning confidently against the wall. “I knew that, obviously, I was just coming to. . . steal shit?”

The man blinked. “Why?”

Tommy scratched his neck. “Uh. . . I’m hungry?”

“That’s fair.” Another man appeared from the front. It must have been Scar, judging from the plastic-wrapped baguette in his hand.

“Throw that away!” Grian shrieked. “Okay, okay, first things first, kid, are you like. . . homeless? We can give you some bread, but we’re really behind on our batches today, because someone mixed up the sugar with salt in the raspberry rolls—“

“They look really similar!” Scar protested. “And I swear Etho stole some of our sugar when he came in yesterday.”

Grian facepalmed. “Why would he steal our sugar, Scar?”

“I’d steal sugar, given the chance,” Tommy said thoughtfully. 

Scar gestured excitedly. “See, Grian? He— what’s your name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tommy agrees with me! I bet he eats baguettes, too!” Scar took a very crunchy bite of the bread.

“I’m an average baguette enjoyer,” Tommy said. He had never had a baguette, but it was very entertaining to see this Grian guy get more and more frustrated with the both of them.

“I can’t believe this.” Grian sighed, then sniffed the air. “Is— THE APPLE BREAD!”

Grian shoved Scar and Tommy to the side and opened the oven. “Scar, get the oven mitts!”