Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ranboo is okay.

He tells himself that every day. That the red-hot anger that courses in his blood is normal, that it’s okay to feel like the world is after you, chasing you,  and you can’t get away.

It’s normal to lash out if you feel threatened. Ranboo just… feels threatened more often than most.

“Ranboo.”

Ranboo snapped out of his thoughts, his head jerking up from where he was resting it against the ice-chilled window. A chill passed through his body, from the tips of his split-dyed hair to his boots, and he shivered through the threadbare fabric of his old patched-up black bomber jacket. “Yeah?”

“Ranboo, what happened this time?” Ranboo could see Sam looking at him in the rearview mirror.

“I–” Ranboo swallowed his words. “He deserved it.”

“I’m gonna need you to give me a little more context than that.”

“I hit someone. Again.”

Sam’s eyes softened slightly at the shame blooming red on Ranboo’s cheeks. “Ranboo. I can’t… I can’t keep bailing you out.”

“I know, Sam. I’ll try harder, I promise. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Radio static enveloped the car like a blanket, sending Ranboo’s whispered apologies scattering to the October wind.

Ponk was already waiting for Ranboo when Sam’s police cruiser pulled up to the shelter. He always knew everything; there was no use trying to lie to him. The car slowed down, then stopped, and Sam got out. Ranboo slunk further into the leather seat. He didn’t feel like moving. 

Suddenly, the car door he was leaned against opened, and Ranboo tumbled unceremoniously onto the harsh pavement. Despite himself, he started cackling at his own ridiculous predicament. Sam helped him up wordlessly, not even cracking the smallest smile. Seriously, would it kill the guy to not look so concerned all the time?

Sam walked over to Ponk, and started talking to him. Ranboo, since he had no real obligation to sit and listen to them talk about “Whatever are we going to do about poor Ranboo now?”, pulled open the door to the shelter and walked in.

Instantly, a little green-shirted ball of joy bounced over, burrowing his fluffy mop of brown hair into Ranboo’s chest.

“Bossman! You ate shit, dude!! That was hilarious!”

Ranboo laughed, feeling a blanket of heavy-heartedness he hadn’t even noticed was there lift from his shoulders. Tubbo always seemed to have that effect on him. He wasn’t actually a foster kid here anymore, since he’d gotten adopted a couple of months after Ranboo met him, but he always came back to help with menial tasks and keep in touch with everyone.  “Yes, yes, my death is hilarious. A prime source of entertainment for all the villagers around.”

Tubbo grinned. “Seriously, though. Why are you back here so soon? I thought that last place was the right one, what with Michael and all.”

Ranboo shifted on his feet, looking everywhere except Tubbo’s eyes. “It… well… it happened again.”

“Again? Dude! I’ve known you for two years and this is, what, the tenth time you’ve gotten kicked out for punching someone?”

“I know, I know…”

Tubbo sighed. “Did they at least deserve it?”

“Oh, absolutely .”

Tubbo burst out laughing. Just like that, they were back to normal, cracking jokes and laughing like they were without a care in the world.

Good things never last forever. Before five minutes had passed, Ponk was waving Ranboo into his office, that awful disappointed look on his face. Ranboo waved goodbye to Tubbo, sitting in the cedar-wood chair and breathing in the smell of fresh wood stain. Ponk must have just got his desk refinished.

“Ranboo,” Ponk sighed. “I’m sure you know as well as I do that what happened tonight was absolutely unacceptable.

Ranboo sighed, too. He wondered if it was contagious, like yawning.

“You’re staying here tonight, but there’s already a foster family scheduled to take you tomorrow.”

Ranboo blinked. That wasn’t normal. He’d never been at the shelter for less than a week.

“It’s a guy named Phil. He has three adopted kids, and they’ve all dealt with similar problems to you, so it should be a great fit. Don’t even worry about it.”

A pen rolled off Ponk’s desk and Ranboo caught it unconsciously. He started to fidget with it. For all Ponk said about how perfect it would be, he knew it wouldn’t last long. Those types of people were nice to you just long enough to get the papers signed, and then it was game over. 

Ponk grabbed the pen from him. “Did you get that? 12pm tomorrow, be back here with all your belongings.”

Ranboo nodded slightly. Without a word, he rose from the chair and walked back to the shared bedroom he always slept in. The clock on the wall read eleven pm, but he didn’t feel tired at all. Ranboo sighed. It was going to be a long night. 

***

When Ranboo woke up, he felt like he’d barely slept a wink. It was one of those night’s sleeps where you barely shut your eyes and then suddenly you’re opening them, light and sound and memory flooding in like it never left. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:45. Shit. Ponk hated it when he was late. Hastily, Ranboo threw on plain black sweatpants and some band tee he’d gotten from Goodwill. He’d never even heard of the band. His stuff was thankfully still packed from last night, though, so there was that. 

Ranboo paused, suddenly. He hadn’t eaten breakfast. Biting his lip, Ranboo weighed his options. He could eat breakfast, and be super late… or he could just skip it.

His stomach let out a protesting growl. Skipping breakfast it was then. It’s not like he hadn’t done that before.

Ranboo ran all the way to Ponk’s, bursting through the door at 12:02.

Ponk rolled his eyes, gesturing to the cedar chair Ranboo had sat in yesterday. “You’re lucky today. Phil’s not here yet.”

No sooner than he could close his mouth, Phil burst through the door. He had shoulder-length blond hair and was wearing a faded green and white bucket hat. “I’m so sorry I’m late! Did I miss anything?”

“No, no,” Ponk laughed. “Ranboo just got here too. Overslept, the idiot.”

Ranboo bristled.

“Alright. There are papers I need to sign, I presume?”

Ranboo scoffed a little. Presume.

“Of course, but first there are a couple things you need to know about Ranboo. He’s a very smart kid, but he gets in a lot of fights in school. He… we think it might be best to find him some sort of anger management class. Teachers have also complained about attitude problems.”

Ranboo felt his blood heat up a little. He didn’t hate Ponk, in fact, he was one of the only adults he respected at all, but when he talked about him like he was some broken toy that needed to be fixed, it made his blood boil.

But he wasn’t here to lament about Ponk. He was here to meet Phil. Ranboo narrowed his eyes at the man, slightly. He seemed… Well, to be frank, he seemed almost too nice. There was no way he wasn’t hiding something below that sickly-sweet exterior, and Ranboo would make him crack.

Maybe when he finally called the police on him, Ranboo would see Micheal again. That’d be nice. 

“Ranboo! Are you listening?” 

Ranboo snapped back to the present. Phil was standing in front of him. “Not really. What?”

Phil didn’t even seem to care, just smiled and laughed a bit. “I asked if you wanted to get some groceries with me? I need to pick up some things before we head back to my house.”

“Um. I guess. Whatever. I don’t really have a choice.”

Ponk gave Phil a look, like “Teenagers, right?”. Phil returned it.

Ranboo waved goodbye to Tubbo, who he could see through the window. Phil tried to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Ranboo flinched violently and pushed it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Phil looked at Ranboo, the pity in his eyes all too familiar. Ranboo narrowed his eyes and turned away, sitting himself down in the passenger seat. 

“So, is there anything I need to know about you? Stuff that wouldn’t be on the record, like your triggers or pronouns?”

Ranboo fixed his dead stare on the asphalt in front of them. “Insomnia. Pronouns… um, I don’t care. ‘He’ works fine.” Ranboo turned to Phil, and fixed him with his most threatening gaze. “If I feel unsafe, I will protect myself.”

Phil didn’t react, just kept looking at him with that sad, sad pity in his eyes. “We can pick you up some Melatonin from the pharmacy while we’re at the grocery store. What makes you feel unsafe?”

Ranboo paused, thinking. “Yelling. Threats.”

Phil nodded. “Yelling triggers Wilbur, too, so we don’t do it much. And I can promise none of us will purposefully threaten you.”

Phil’s car pulled up to the grocery store. He went off to get the Melatonin, plus whatever milk or something he needed to get, and told Ranboo to just get something he wanted.

There’s something to be said for that feeling when you step inside of a grocery store, and someone else says they’ll pay for you. You never quite know what you’ll end up with in your hands, and it’s often better to just let it happen and see where the world takes you. Ranboo, for instance, ended up with two boxes of spaghetti and one of cinnamon rolls. He decided not to question it. Thankfully, neither did Phil. 

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Phil’s house. Ranboo saw a cat in the window, a gray tortoiseshell, and smiled. They had better be treating it well here. He’d sent someone to the hospital once for kicking a cat, and he’d do it again. 

When he walked in the door, he saw three others in the house, all teenagers. One of them had fluffy blond hair, one had round glasses and a yellow sweater, and the third had long pink hair and was wearing a white poet’s shirt like a ren faire nerd (Ranboo couldn’t judge, but really).

“Oh hey!” the glasses person called. “You must be Ranboo, right?”

Ranboo didn’t say anything.

“You’re really tall,” said the blond kid. “Probably taller than Wilbur.”

“Tommy, have you ever considered you might just be short?” the pink-haired guy asked, setting down his book.

“Oi!”

“Boys, boys, calm down. You don’t want to scare off your new housemate, do you?” Phil smiled. “This is Tommy,” he gestured at the blond kid. “This is Techno.” The ren faire nerd raised a hand in acknowledgement. “And this is Wilbur,” Phil gestured towards the glasses kid. “All of their pronouns are He/Him, and so are mine.”

“Okay,” Ranboo said. He didn’t really care. He was going to be out of here soon anyways, if the world kept chugging on like it always seemed to.

“Alright.” Phil cleared his throat. “Your room’s just up the stairs and down the hall, second door on the left. We’ll give you some space to unpack and settle in. I’ll get one of the boys to call you when dinner’s ready.”

Ranboo just nodded. He felt kind of like he was floating through space, just aimlessly drifting through the fog of nothing. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but he knew it would make it hard to protect himself. Ranboo walked to his room, barely making it through the door before collapsing on the bed they gave him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to just… rest his eyes a bit…

Ranboo was woken by a sharp rapping on the door of the bedroom. He groaned, pushing himself up. There was drool on the corner of his mouth. “Who’s there?”

“Wilbur. We’re having dinner. Come on down.”

“One minute.”

Ranboo waited until he heard Wilbur’s footsteps fade away down the stairs, then pushed himself up on his elbow, rolling off the bed. He scrubbed at the corner of his mouth, but it was a lost cause. Oh, well. He didn’t owe a presentable appearance to this random ass foster family anyway.

He walked downstairs to see Techno, Wilbur and Tommy sitting down at the dinner table, Phil walking over with fried chicken and tomatoes. Ranboo stifled a gag. He hated potatoes.

Dinner progressed like any normal dinner Ranboo had experienced in a foster home. Small talk was forced and awkward, never leading to anything. Phil asked him how his day was, Ranboo bit back the insult hiding in his throat. Ranboo picked at the chicken slightly, avoiding the potato.

Techno looked at Ranboo’s plate and snorted. “Do you not like potatoes or something?”

“So what if I don’t?”

Techno shrugged, turning back to his plate where he was on his fourth baked potato. “Just seems kind of weird that you would decide not to eat potatoes. They’re the best food.”

Ranboo felt his anger bubble over. “Well, judging by your hair, you’ve also made some bad decisions in your time.”

Oh, now he’d done it. There was no going back; this was how he was getting kicked out. He tensed his body, waiting for… something.

Instead, the whole table burst out laughing, even Techno. Ranboo flinched, his face heating up. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“I–’m going to bed.” Ranboo stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back from the table. He half-tossed his plate into a pile by the sink, and practically ran back to his borrowed room. He could hear Phil and his kids whispering about him behind him, and his nose scrunched up in distaste. He hated people whispering behind his back.

At around seven thirty, there was another knock at the door. Ranboo didn’t respond.

“Hey, Ranboo, It’s Phil,” the person behind the door said. “I’m sorry if we offended you by laughing at dinner. We joke around a lot in this family, so it’s a normal occurrence for us. Let me know if you need anything tonight, my room’s just by the kitchen on the right.”

Ranboo stayed silent. Talking took energy.

“Good night, Ranboo. Sleep well.”

Phil’s footsteps echoed down the hall, fading into the monotone hum of the furnace and fridge.

Ranboo sighed. He rolled over, popping his earbuds in and connecting them to his old flip-phone burner phone type-thing. He hit play on one of his downloaded playlists, and let himself drift into space.

She woke me up at dawn, soft-spoken as a spider

Spinning webs of holy words while she was still asleep

Kill the moon beneath my window, pull the covers tighter

And hear her voice go swinging like a hatchet through the trees…

Chapter Text

Ranboo’s standing on the edge of a precipice. 

He’s looking down over the edge, letting the balls of his feet teeter closer and closer to the fall. There’s nothing at the bottom, endless nothing like gray, gray mist ready to reach up and swallow him whole.

Ranboo let himself fall.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

He reaches up with one hand, grabbing at the crumbling rock, but he knows it’s too late.

Shadows gather near the top.

Ranboo sees them, but he’s falling anyway. They can’t get him.

The shadows disagree, reaching and speeding for Ranboo at impossible speeds. They wrap around him, tighter and tighter, and Ranboo screams, lashing out his arm, trying to cut through the shadows. Something latches onto his arm, shaking roughly.

Ranboo opens his eyes.

For a moment, everything is blurry. Something is pink, and something is white, and something is gray and brown and red and black and blue. Ranboo blinks, reaching up to rub at his eyes. Slowly, the world comes into focus.

Techno is standing next to his bed, holding his eye.

Ranboo stifles another scream. 

“Your nails are sharp, kid.” Techno winces. “I, ehh, saw you writhin’ in your sleep. Figured you were having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you up. Guess that’s just another bad decision on my part.”

Ranboo said nothing. His hair was stuck to his forehead, multicolored strands sticky from sweat.

“I’m gonna go get a band-aid. Breakfast’s ready, by the way. I think Phil has something he wants to talk to you about.” Techno got up and left the room, leaving Ranboo to his thoughts.

Ranboo turned over in the bed. He was no stranger to nightmares, but they never did get easier. Or more normal. He’d had dreams where the sky itself was chasing him.

Ranboo grabbed some black jeans and a hoodie that was split-dyed like his hair, taking them to the bathroom to shower and get changed. The hoodie made him feel cool. 

Arriving in the bathroom, Ranboo passed the mirror and turned on the hot water. He didn’t want to see his reflection. He knew he looked awful, he didn’t want to prove it to himself by setting that version of himself in stone in his memory. The mirror fogged up, and Ranboo stepped into the shower. He felt the scars on his arms, never-quite-forgotten memories of past lives, past homes, past Ranboos. He hated them.

Ranboo stepped out of the shower, pulling on his hoodie and jeans. He caught a glimpse of somebody in the unfogged mirror, and turned away. Even for just that moment, he could see the bruise-dark circles under his eyes. Ranboo made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. That was him, alright. No denying it.

“Wilbur! Wilbur, I swear to everything that is good if that’s you in there I’m cutting all your guitar strings.”

Ranboo opened the door, glaring at the short blond kid in the doorway. “Aggressive much?”

“Oh– hey, Ranboob. Sorry about that. Thought you were Wilbur there for a sec,” Tommy apologized, walking past Ranboo into the bathroom.

Ranboo rolled his eyes slightly, walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

“Hey, mate.” Phil smiled at him. “Go ahead, sit wherever you want. I’m making pancakes today, because it’s your first day. A celebration, of sorts.

“Oh.” Ranboo sat down as far away from Techno as he could, who still somehow looked intimidating with two My Little Pony band-aids over his eye.

Phil plopped two pancakes onto his plate, and a good helping of scrambled eggs, too. Ranboo liked both of those, so breakfast shouldn’t be a problem or anything. He glanced over at Wilbur, who had the syrup. He’d need it when Wilbur was done.

Wilbur wasn’t ever done, though. He kept piling on more and more syrup, drowning his two pancakes in so much syrup they would have died if they were people. It was an abomination. Wilbur’s plate was turning into a lake.

No. No, Ranboo couldn’t just sit by idly and watch this happen. Something had to be done about this. He didn’t care if he got kicked out.

“Would you like some pancakes with your maple syrup?”

To Ranboo’s surprise, they all burst out laughing again. Techno was even chuckling. Ranboo huffed and picked up his own pancake with his fork, stuffing it into his mouth whole.

Wilbur stared at him in abject horror. “At least I taste my pancakes? How the fuck did you do that?”

Ranboo shrugged, a smug look on his face. One day, when he was really bored, he’d looked up how to do a bunch of random stuff online, including how to practically unhinge his jaw while eating. He popped it back into place, ignoring the protesting grinding noise from his jaw. “Practice.”

“Okay, okay,” Phil said. “There’s a more serious topic at hand. Ranboo, since you just got here yesterday, we won’t make you go to school today, or Monday. Starting Tuesday, though, you will be attending the same school Tommy goes to.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened. “West Ridge?”

“That’s the one.”

Yes! That was the same school Tubbo went to, and Tubbo is awesome. Ranboo tossed his plate haphazardly in the sink, walking back up the stairs. He went into the room they gave him, locking the door for good measure. That wasn’t something he usually got to do, so he was making the most of it. 

There was nothing really to do. None of the books on the bookshelf were any good, and he wasn’t going to go ‘hang out’ with Tommy and Wilbur or something. 

Ranboo decided it might as well be time to unpack. He opened up his duffel back, and started sifting through everything. It was mostly just a couple changes of clothes, a pair of sunglasses, his burner phone, and oh! A Milky Way candy bar, wedged between two T-shirts. That was surely Tubbo’s doing. He would always hide candy in Ranboo’s stuff, and when Ranboo could afford it, he did the same. 

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Ranboo sighed, walking over and opening the door. Instead of a person, though, it was just a box with a note on it. He picked it up.

“Hey mate!” the note read. “I figured it might be nice for you to have one of these. It’s got everyone’s number in it, and you can add anyone you want.”

Ranboo’s heart jumped in his chest. Did Phil really..?

He opened the box, and his jaw dropped. Yes, Phil really did. Inside was a phone. Not super-new or anything, but still pretty darn modern compared to his burner phone. 

Instantly, he entered Tubbo’s number (he had it memorized) into the contacts and texted it.

Ranboo: guess who got a new phone!!!!

Tubbo: Ranboo! :DDDDDD i missed you!

Ranboo: :))) so now only call me on the burner phone if its an emergency.

Tubbo: Awsome!! hows the new place?

Ranboo: kind of weird. but. good probably. 

Ranboo: theyre way too nice. I think it’s not real

Tubbo: or maybe they are just actually nice people for once.

Ranboo: seems unlikely

Tubbo: give them a chance, ok?

Ranboo: also!!!! Im going to your school starting monday

Tubbo: woah!1!! Now we can cause double the chaos

Tubbo: gtg parents are here

Ranboo: cya

Ranboo smiled. He had missed Tubbo, even though it had been only one day. He couldn’t wait to see him again at school.

Someone walked up to the door and knocked. Ranboo instantly recognized the footsteps as Tommy’s, loud and close together. “Yeah?”

“Ranboob! Want to play Mario Kart with me?!” Yep. Definitely Tommy.

Ranboo opened the door, deciding to ignore the nickname. Normally, he would decline, but he really had nothing to do. He hadn’t played Mario Kart in ages, surely one game couldn’t hurt. “Sure.”

Tommy visibly brightened, practically grabbing Ranboo’s arm and pulling him down the stairs and into the basement, where a big couch and a TV were set up, along with multiple controllers strewn across the floor. 

“Here. You’ll play as Wilbur, so you can get me more wins against him on the stats.” 

Ranboo snorted and took the controller. Just for Wilbur, he would smoke this kid. Tommy turned on the console and popped the game in, settling into the couch beside Ranboo. 

For the first couple of games, Ranboo lost horribly, but soon, his muscle memory came back. Just like he said, he absolutely smoked Tommy, coming in first or second place ten rounds in a row.

“What? What the fuck, man,” Tommy groaned. “I thought you’d be bad at this.”

“Clearly, I’m just superior,” Ranboo said smugly, taking a sharp right to hit a shortcut. He passed the finish line, coming in for his last lap while Tommy was just making his first.

“Aw, man!” Tommy laughed, leaning back into the cushions. “Good game, good game.”

Ranboo returned his fistbump, smiling a bit. Their games ended, and Ranboo walked back up the stairs to his borrowed room. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel angry.

Chapter Text

Ranboo was bored. Really bored. He’d inspected everything he could in his borrowed room at least fifteen times, skimmed every single title on the bookshelf and even a couple of the books (he hated all of them), and was mostly wasting his time by playing snake on his phone. The stupid google doodle version. He didn’t feel like trying to download an actual app or anything. 

Ranboo rolled onto his side on the bed, opening the messaging app on his phone.

Ranboo: heyyyyyy~

Tubbo: makinf dinner cant talk

Ranboo: :(

Well, that was useless. Ranboo really wished he could still be back at his last home. He really liked the toddler there, Michael. There was never a dull moment there. One time, when Ranboo was teaching Michael how to make a paper airplane, Michael started eating the crayons. They weren’t even using crayons! It was ridiculous, but it was a lot more something than staring at the ceiling all day. 

He might as well check to see what his housemates were up to. Ranboo snuck out of his room, padding down the hallway as silently as possible as he heard four voices slowly float into his brain. He peeked around the corner and down the stairs. Tommy and Wilbur were sitting on the couch together, and Techno and Phil each claimed an armchair.

“I forgot to mention this to you guys before, but Ranboo is someone who’s been labeled as a ‘problem child’. It means that befriending him and living with him might be more difficult than, say, when Tommy came along, so please, just be patient with him is all.”

Wilbur nodded his acknowledgement, and Tommy grinned widely.

“I’ll bet you ten dollars I can get him to open up first. We played Mario Kart yesterday,” Tommy bragged. 

“Ten? Hah! I bet you fifteen it’ll be me,” Wilbur boasted. 

“Boys, boys. Calm down. It’s not a race.” Phil laughed.

Ranboo’s blood was boiling. He wasn’t some charity case, some broken doll that they could ‘fix’ and brag about to all their friends.

Guess what? It only took me a month for the problem child to warm up to me. Aren’t I the greatest? He trusts me so much. I’m such a good person!

Ranboo wouldn’t stand for it.

He walked down the stairs, walking through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Oh hey, Ranboo!” Phil called, a clearly fake smile on his face. “We were just discussing what to have for lunch.”

Liar. Liar liar liar. 

“Okay.” Ranboo started opening the cabinets, looking for something to eat. He wondered if they had any cheezits. 

“Oh yeah!” Wilbur smiled, leaping up from the couch. “Phil, I bought that new tea flavor! We’ve got to try it.”

Wilbur grabbed a labeled glass jar of ground tea leaves from the cabinet, right next to where Ranboo was looking. He set the jar on the edge of the counter, pulling a metal tea strainer from a drawer.

Ranboo never considered himself a catboy. Nothing against catboys, of course, Ranboo just wasn’t one. Yet something about the way the glass jar almost teetered on the edge of the counter called to him. He smiled a little.

Techno started to boil some potatoes in a pot on the stove (ew), and Tommy was toasting some bread in the toaster. Phil was pulling some instant ramen from a cabinet and emptying it into a bowl. 

Nobody was looking at the tea.

Ranboo struck, barely touching the edge of the jar before it toppled over the edge, crashing to the floor and spilling slices of broken glass and tea leaves all over the kitchen floor.

A shocked silence filled the air.

Ranboo broke it. “I’m not a charity case.” He grabbed the box of cheezits from where he’d found them, running all the way back up to his borrowed room. 

“Ranboo, I–” Phil cried after him, but Ranboo didn’t stop. 

Ranboo couldn’t fall asleep that night. But what’s new, really?

***

Everything was blue.

Blue and black and purple, with teal bubbles floating past Ranboo’s vision.

Ranboo gasps, and water floods his lungs. He can feel it burning, burning like lava against water and sinking like rocks in his gut.

Something’s under him.

Jaws open and swallow Ranboo whole.

He closes his eyes and lets it take him.

***

Ranboo’s eyes open. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The clock read 04:27 am. It was just a dream, he knew, but that didn’t make it feel any less real. Shaking, Ranboo pulled out his  phone and earbuds again, feeling his breathing steady as his music played. It was the Crane Wives’ new album, ‘Beyond, Beyond, Beyond’. He rather liked it, especially ‘Scars’ and ‘Black Hole Fantasy’. His favorite music from the Crane Wives was definitely their original music with the banjo player back from 2012– the ‘Safe Ship Harbored’ and ‘The Fool in her Wedding Gown’ albums. He pulled up some Calvin and Hobbes comics he’d gotten from some sketchy website, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep.

When Ranboo finally pulled out his earbuds and sat up, golden daylight was streaming through his window. He’d seen the sunrise happen, pinks and purples painting the sides of the room as he watched, music in his ears. Now, it was just about ten am, on Monday. Everyone else would be at school today (they must have just assumed he was still sleeping), but Phil said he didn’t have to go to school until tomorrow. 

Speaking of Phil, where was he? Ranboo didn’t know if he worked a normal 9 to 5, or had irregular hours. Once, he was living in the home of a digital artist/graphic designer. That one was probably the best house.

Ranboo walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. A picture on the fridge caught his eye. Some of them only had Techno and Wilbur, and some of them had Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy, but all of them had another person, too. A woman with raven-black hair and pale skin, a joyful expression on her face. Somebody who was always around, until she wasn’t. She obviously wasn’t now. She was Phil’s wife, probably. 

Ranboo turned away. A box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch was sat on the counter, along with a note from Phil.

“I’ve got some work to do. I’ll be back at noon. Help yourself to anything in the pantry or fridge.”

Irregular hours, then. Ranboo could work with that. For now, he had a couple of hours to kill. He poured himself a bowl of dry cereal, and ate it at the kitchen counter. He pulled up some random youtube video essay on his phone (he’d never been happier to have a phone in his life) and watched it until he heard a car pull up outside the house. He turned off the video, and Phil strolled through the door.

“Hey, Ranboo. I was wondering, would you like to go shopping with me tomorrow after school? I thought there might still be a few things you need.”

Ranboo stared at a spot on the wall behind Phil. He wasn’t ever anyone to pass up free stuff. “Sure, I guess.”

Phil hung up his coat. “I’ve still got some work to do, so I’ll be in my room for a while. Get me if you need something, like food, or toothpaste or something.”

“I can take care of myself,” Ranboo said, unintended icicles dripping from his words. 

“Gotcha. Sorry.” Phil smiled and walked away. 

Ranboo walked back up to his borrowed room. It hadn’t even been two days, and his… ‘foster father’ was taking him shopping. Ranboo didn’t know why foster parents were considered ‘parents’. All they really wanted was a little extra money from the government. 

Ranboo lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. It was a popcorn ceiling, something he hadn’t noticed until just now.

He didn’t feel like moving. 

Phil knocked on the door. “What?” Ranboo grumbled. 

“Did you eat lunch yet? Just checking.”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

Ranboo could almost feel Phil’s disappointed frown.

“Nope. You can’t skip a meal, Ranboo, I’m sorry.”

“ I said, I’m not hungry.”

“Ranboo, please. Eating enough is important. You have to eat three meals a day.”

Ranboo scoffed. “And why exactly do you care?”

“I’m your caretaker now. It’s my job to make sure you’re healthy. I have to care about you.”

The ‘have to’ in that sentence stung more than the whole conversation. “Then maybe you should rethink who you care about, huh?”

“Ranboo–” Phil sighed. “I’m coming in, okay?” He jiggled the handle, but the lock stayed. “Ranboo, please, let me in.”

“No.”

“Okay.” Phil sighed. “Okay, just make sure you come down for dinner, okay?” His footsteps faded away, even and sure.

Ranboo did, but he could tell Phil hadn’t forgotten.

The next morning, Ranboo woke to Phil taking the lock off of his door.

Ranboo sighed. He knew it was going to happen. Good things never last forever.

Chapter Text

The bathroom mirror was broken. 

The bathroom mirror was broken, and it was Ranboo’s fault.

Ranboo pulled the fluff of his bomber jacket up around his neck, feeling the scratchy wool against the bottom of his chin. He looked at the shattered glass. His eye was fractured in two places. The safety pin hanging from his right ear was split from the rest of his head. 

He reached towards himself in the mirror. The glass cut him.

Red trickled down his palm, but Ranboo didn’t think to notice.

The fractures centered on his left eye.

Ranboo left the bathroom. Nobody seemed to use this one, anyways. With any luck, neither Phil, Tommy, Techno or Wilbur would notice. 

He checked his phone. There was a text from Tubbo, and a text from Phil. He clicked on the one from Phil.

Phil: Hey mate, just wanted to let you know I’ll be picking you, Tommy and Wilbur up from school to go shopping. Techno has an after-school club and won’t be joining us.

Ranboo: Kay

Ranboo snorted. Perfect grammar and everything. He clicked on the one from Tubbo next.

Tubbo: hey boo !! u ready for school?

Ranboo: barely. I swear im only going bc ur there

Tubbo: awww

Tubbo: its not that bad. I’ll show you around :D

Ranboo: see you soon ive got  to go

Tubbo: byeee

Ranboo walked down to the kitchen, where the three boys and Phil were eating breakfast.

Three musketeers. Ha.

He clutched his bleeding hand in a fist, holding it close to his chest.

“Good morning, Ranboo.” Phil smiled at him. “Make sure to grab something to eat.”

Ranboo really wasn’t hungry, but he mumbled an affirmation, grabbing some granola bar from a corner cupboard. He saw Phil’s eyes crinkle out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled a little to himself. It was worth it not to be fighting.

They crammed into Phil’s SUV, Ranboo shoved in the middle jump-seat like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Tommy’s shoulder was pressing into his bicep, and Wilbur’s beanie scratched against his cheek. Ranboo sighed, feeling the claustrophobia set in. The drive wasn’t too long. Maybe he could walk to school.

When they pulled up to West Ridge Senior High, Ranboo was instantly overwhelmed by how big the school was. It was massive compared to any school he had gone to in the past. It looked to be miles from end to end. 

Someone in the crowd grabbed his arm. Ranboo flinched violently, raising his arm at the person behind him. 

Tommy smiled sheepishly. “Fuck. Sorry about that, man. I just needed to tell you– you have to go to the front office to grab your schedule and stuff first.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Ranboo said, but Ranboo was already walking off. 

The school was fucking huge. Ranboo was late to his first three classes just because he couldn’t find them. The layout didn’t make any sense, either. Why was the ‘F’ wing right next to the ‘B’ wing? And why did the ‘C’ wing stretch over two floors?

He hasn’t had any classes with Tubbo yet, which really sucked. If he doesn’t have at least lunch with Tubbo, Ranboo swears he’s going to throw a chair at the wall.

Finally, rushing into his fourth hour ten minutes late, Ranboo spotted him– that oh-so-familiar mop of brown hair, sitting in the chair fourth from the window seat. Instantly, Ranboo walks over to him, sitting down in the chair beside him.

“Oh, hello!” the teacher smiled at him. “You must be Ranboo, right? Class, we have a new student. This is Ranboo. It looks like you already know Tubbo, so you can go ahead and sit with him.”

Ranboo pumped his fist internally. 

The teacher passed him a math worksheet, and the class erupted into chatter again.

“Bossman! Hey!” Tubbo smiled. “I missed you, noodle boy.”

“Aww, I missed you too.” Ranboo grinned back.

“What class do you have after this?”

“Lunch.”

“Oh, epic!!! We have the same lunch period!”

“Oh, good. I might have thrown a chair at the window if we didn’t, that one scene near the end of Inside Out-style.”

Before Ranboo knew it, Algebra II was over, and Tubbo was dragging him to the cafeteria. 

The lunchroom was loud, smelly, and suffocatingly moist. Ranboo could easily spot the noisiest of all, two tables pushed together with Tommy, his brothers, and five other people. Ranboo tried to walk towards the quieter corner of the room, but Tubbo dragged him over to the two tables.

“Hey guys! This is my best friend Ranboo. He goes here now! Ranboo, these are my friends.”

Ranboo locked eyes with Tommy. Oh. 

Tommy’s bite of chicken fell off his fork. “Ranboo? You know Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked at Ranboo. “You know Tommy?”

“Of course I do,” Ranboo answered Tubbo, icicles dripping from his voice. “I’m staying with him.”

“Oh, perfect!” Tubbo smiled, Ranboo’s disdain flying right over his head. “Okay, so you guys already know each other, then. Beanie guy is Quackity, color block hoodie guy is Karl, Sonic hoodie is Connor, pink hair is Niki, and pirate cosplay is Puffy. Puffy and Niki are dating, and Quackity and Karl are ‘not dating’.”

“We’re not!” Karl protests. Connor snorts into his McDonalds Dr. Pepper. “Seriously! Have you not seen Quackity flirting with Wilbur?”

“And Wilbur flirting with you, too? Yeah, so all three of them are ‘not dating’.”

Ranboo blinked. His brain could barely process the information. He sat down next to Tubbo and Connor, trying to fade out of the conversation and away into his brain. It was all too much for him, really. 

Ranboo stumbled out the door at the end of the day, where Phil’s car was waiting for him. Phil smiled as he, Tommy and Wilbur clambered into the car.

Phil smiled. “Ready to go shopping?”

Ranboo sighed. He just can’t catch a break around here.

Chapter Text

“Alright,” Phil smiled, revving up the car. “Techno’s going to meet us there. We’re going to Wilbur’s favorite store, because I think Ranboo would like it.”

“Why doesn’t Techno have to ride in the Phil-mobile?” Tommy whined.

“Listen, you little shit, if you want to get out and walk, go ahead.”

“Techno’s walking? Nevermind.”

“He got a ride from a friend. You and all your friends are too young to drive,” Phil snorted.

“Yeah, and you’re old. Oldza. You’re going bald. Just like Wilbur.”

Wilbur sighed. “Maybe I will get out and walk.”

Phil was right. The store was absolutely Ranboo’s style. They even had eyeliner. Ranboo was itching to get his hands on some of it.

He reached into his pocket, fishing out his small money. All together, he had… $2.37. Awesome. That wouldn’t even get him a tube of eyeliner, let alone any new clothes. Oh, well, he could at least look around the store.

The store was small, and mostly alternative. There was lots of clothing with extra Velcro pockets and buckles, and Ranboo would have killed for most of it. There was a Ren Faire corner with authentic leather pirate gear, and he instantly thought of Puffy. He discreetly checked the price of a pair of buckled boots, and felt his eyeballs bug out at the number.

$200? For a pair of old boots?! Inflation was getting ridiculous.

Over in another corner of the store, Ranboo found his haven. There were black cargo pants, white space t-shirts over a black long-sleeved undershirt; there were black knee-length fluffy skirts, and the models in all the photos were androgynous. He was basking in all the incredibly cool clothing, going from one rack to the next– when he saw it.

A split-dyed, black and white zip-up jacket, with a rose vine curling up the white arm and blooming on the bicep. Ranboo gasped. He checked the price tag.

Sixty dollars. His heart sank.

Just then, Phil walked up, placing his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder and making him jump nearly a foot in the air. The man removed his hand with an apologetic glance.

“Find something you like?”

Ranboo thought about lying, but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Kind of, but it’s waaaay out of my price range.”

Phil laughed. “I’m buying this stuff for you, silly! How much is it?”

“Sixty dollars,” Ranboo admitted, begrudgingly. “But you can just get the same thing at Walmart for, like, ten, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe, but it’s nowhere near the quality of this stuff.”

“Walmart clothes aren’t so bad,” Ranboo said, feeling his temper get away from him and spike out. “Maybe you’d understand if it was the only thing you could afford.”

Phil looked like someone told him his puppy ran away. He took the jacket off of the rack, draping it over his arm. “Consider it an apology. For talking about you behind your back.”

Ranboo didn’t smile, but he hoped Phil could see he was grateful.

Later, they all met up with Techno at the food court (Minus Wilbur, he was still shopping), and shared a bag of sour cream+onion potato chips. Ranboo didn’t eat any. 

Suddenly, Tommy stopped mid-chip, slamming his hands on the linoleum table. “Phil!” he said, spraying chip bits everywhere. “I need new shoes, remember?”

“I– ah.” Phil sighed. “Ranboo, would you mind staying with Techno for a while? I promise he doesn’t bite.”

“Sure.” Ranboo shrugged.

Phil and Tommy left, and Ranboo blinked, looking at Technoblade.

“We’re going to go to the gardening store,” Techno said, leaving no room for argument. “I need some fertilizer.”

“Alright,” agreed Ranboo, pushing himself up from the crusty food court bench. It wasn’t as though he could say no.

The garden store was very pretty, and it smelled heavenly. The air tasted clean and fresh, but in a real way, not in a ‘fresh wintergreen’ kind of way. Ranboo found an aisle full of really silly planters, one-eyed monsters and spotted dogs. They made him smile. 

Later, Ranboo wandered back to the front of the store. He saw Techno paying for a tray of small plants and a small bag of fertilizer, the cashier scanning all of his items.

“That’ll be $31.52, please.” the cashier smiled.

Techno pulled out a wad of money and counted it. He stopped, and counted it again, sighing. 

Wordlessly, Ranboo slid one of his dollar bills across the counter towards Techno. Techno looked at him for a second, then gratefully took the dollar and gave his money to the cashier. 

As they walked out of the store, Techno handed Ranboo a small potted plant. Ranboo took it, holding it in surprise. 

“It’s a succulent,” Techno explained. “Not too hard to care for. Give it water once a week.”

Ranboo swallowed. “Thanks.”

“‘Course.”

They walked in silence back to Phil’s car. 

Ranboo: [succulent.jpg] (it’s green, with hints of pink in the leaves. It’s sitting on a cream windowsill.)

Ranboo: I got gifted a plant today

Ranboo: by the scariest foster sibling ive ever seen

Tubbo: what type of plant

Ranboo: its a succulent   

Tubbo: _

Ranboo: tubbo istg 

Tubbo: D:

Tubbo: Did you naem it yet?

Ranboo: Am I supposed to name it 

Ranboo: ?

Tubbo: obviously. 

Ranboo: Harold.

Tubbo: Harold the succulent?

Tubbo: you named it harold?

Ranboo: :( your hurting *his* feelings

Ranboo: hes sensitive

Tubbo: right right im so sorry harold

Ranboo: gtg dinner

Tubbo: bye

Tubbo: oh and ranboo?

Tubbo: give Tommy ‘s family a chance

Tubbo: tommy was going through a rlly rough time when he arrived there

Tubbo: he never told any1

Tubbo: but they heklped him more than they cold ever ima gine

Tubbo: just, give them a chance?

Read 5:50pm

Chapter Text

The purple ring around Ranboo’s left eye stung. 

The seatbelt across his chest dug into his skin as he hunched over, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“Ranboo, can you tell me what happened?”

Ranboo looked over at Phil, in the driver’s seat. “The principal told you.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Ranboo scoffed. “What else is there to hear? Some guy teased me, so I punched him. He punched back. That’s it.”

“Ranboo…” Phil sighed, taking one hand off the steering wheel and rubbing his temples. “I want to know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”

“You mean, if there’s anything you can do so you won’t get pulled out of work to pick me up? Give me a break, old man.”

Phil turned back to the road. “I do care about you, Ranboo.”

“Because you have to. Isn’t that right?”

“No, I–” Phil turned, pulling into the Watson driveway. He sighed, turning the handle of the door and walking in, Ranboo following him. “Ranboo, I have to go back to work. I’ll be done at six, Techno and Tommy will get home before me. Wilbur has a music thing, he’ll get home at eight-thirty.”

“K.” Ranboo wasn’t listening, already walking up the stairs to his borrowed room. He flopped onto the bed, turning onto his side and staring at the wall. He plugged in his earbuds, feeling the familiar strands of music wash over him. He wasn’t really feeling the Crane Wives tonight. Instead, he searched ‘70s punk’ and hit play on the first playlist he saw, grinning like a maniac. 

Eventually, the playlist devolved into 2000s remakes of 70s songs, making Ranboo want to throw the phone at the wall. He just wanted some good Ramones music, _ it.

Ranboo turned over, flopping face-first into the pillow and screaming. His face was red and tears streamed down his face. He turned over to breathe again, sucking in grateful air as though he never would again.

He pushed his palms against his face, pulling on the badly dyed black strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

Why did he have to fight back?

Why couldn’t he have just taken the kid’s tease as a joke, maybe got a bit mad, but why couldn’t he just have left the other kid alone?! He was going to get kicked out, maybe arrested. 

Someone knocked on the door. Ranboo blinked. Had it really been five hours? Were Techno and Tommy home already?

“Go away,” he mumbled. “‘M sleeping.”

“Ranboo! Bossman. You should play Mario Kart with me.” 

Ranboo sighed. Tommy. “I said 'm sleeping.”

“You sound pretty awake to me. C’mon, let’s play Mario Kart! I’m gonna win this time.”

“For the last time, no! Go get Techno, play with someone who actually cares about you, huh, Tommy?”

Tommy went quiet. “At least I have people who care about me.”

Ranboo felt his blood boil. “Get out.”

“No– I’m sorry–”

“Do I have to repeat myself? Get. Out.”

“I just wanted to play Mario Kart–!”

—-------------------------

“You think I don’t hear you talking about me, when you don’t think I’m there? ‘I’ll get him to open up first,’ ‘No, I will!’ It makes my blood fucking boil. God, you’re so fucking annoying, Tommy! That's why your mom's dead, huh? I bet she killed herself to get away from you!"

—-------------------------

Ranboo could hear Tommy breathing heavily for a few seconds.

“She died in a war, asshole!”

Ranboo’s heart dropped in his chest, beating frantically against his sternum. He tried to open his mouth, but it felt like glue was sticking his jaws together. He struggled in vain, hearing Tommy’s receding footsteps and sobs disappear down the hallway. Only then, his jaw unstuck. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears still streaming down his face. “ I’m sorry. ”

He remembered the photos now. Tommy’s mom in a military uniform. How had he missed them, even in his blind rage.

Mere seconds passed before the rage came back, encompassing Ranboo as he slipped his earbuds back in. He didn’t put on any music.

People cared about Ranboo, he swore they did. Tubbo cared about him. Tubbo would always care about him. Ranboo wracked his brain. Sam and Ponk cared about him, as much as they cared about any other kid. Phil at least pretended. Tommy didn’t know what he was talking about.

Nearly an hour later, another knock sounded on the door. “Ranboo,” Techno’s gruff voice drifted through the wood. “Phil wants to talk to you.”

Ranboo sighed, pushing himself off the bed and opening the door. “Okay.”

Techno watched as Ranboo walked down the hall. “I don’t know what you said to Tommy, but you had better apologize. I don’t take too kindly to those who hurt my family.”

Ranboo shivered, but held his head high, not looking back.

“Ranboo,” Phil said, his voice steady as Ranboo sat down in his office. “I’m certain that you know that what you said to Tommy was absolutely unacceptable,”

Ranboo almost snorted from the déjà vu, but kept a straight face.

“However, I’m willing to forgive and forget if you apologize to him.”

The boy froze. It had never been this easy, there was no way. He could just apologize. He wouldn’t be in trouble, he wouldn’t be kicked out. All would be forgiven, although forgotten was a stretch. 

Tommy had said stuff too, though, and Ranboo’s sense of justice wouldn’t let him let this slide. Ranboo narrowed his eyes. “Did he say that he would apologize?”

“Only if you would.”

“Then, no.” Ranboo clenched his fist. “I won’t.”

“Give me your phone.”

Ranboo searched Phil’s face, but it was hard iron. “Fine.” Ranboo slipped the phone from his pocket, setting it on Phil’s desk and walking out of the office and back to the room he slept in. His burner phone slipped out of his pocket as he shrugged off his jacket, slipping it onto the bed. He reached down to pick it up, deciding to check his texts.

One from Tubbo, dating two hours ago.

Ranboo’s blood ran cold.

Tubbo: ranboo

Tubbo: help

Tubbo: in bsaement

Tubbo: cnt move

In a flash, the window to the bedroom was open, chilly fall air sweeping over Ranboo and chilling him to the bone. He dropped out of the window, landing on the woodshed roof just below. From there, he scrambled down a drainpipe, and hit the ground running. He came across a sage green house with mauve trim, and wilting flowers –Tubbo called them blue asters, he remembered.

Ranboo pulled a bobby pin from his hair, unlocking a ground-level window and slipping into the unfinished basement. “Tubbo?”

“H’re,” a faint voice called out. Ranboo followed it. Sure enough, Tubbo lay on the unforgiving concrete, ankle bent at an odd angle.

Ranboo sucked in a breath, pulling gauze from his pocket and rushing over. “Oh, Tubbo. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“‘S fine,” Tubbo mumbled. “Th’nks.”

Ranboo wrapped the gauze tightly around Tubbo’s ankle. “Stay off of that, okay? Don’t exercise for at least a month, and try to walk on it as little as possible.”

“‘re you DoctorBoo now?”

“I’m going to have to be if this keeps happening.”

They were both silent for a moment.

Ranboo sighed. “Look, I messed up today. Really messed up. I said… I said something really mean to Tommy, about his mom.”

“Oof. That’s a deep cut, bossman. Did you apologize?”

“That’s the thing,” Ranboo looked at his lap. “I don’t want to. Not until he does. He said some shit too.”

Tubbo laughed a little. “You gotta be the bigger person, man. Do you have his number?”

“I mean, yeah…”

“Do it right now, then. For me?”

Ranboo begrudgingly pulled his burner phone out of his pocket and typed Tommy’s number in (he had it memorized, sue him). 

Ranboo: This is ranboo

Ranboo: i'm sorry for what I said

Tommy: Ranboo?

Tommy: wait, how are you texting me?

Ranboo showed Tubbo the phone. “Happy?”

“Very.” Tubbo smiled. 

Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the stairs. 

Tubbo’s eyes widened. “Whelp. Guess it’s time for you to go, then.”

“Sure seems like it. Bye, Tubs!” Ranboo climbed a small stepladder and swung his legs out the window, clambering up the ladder in the window well. He stepped onto the sidewalk outside Tubbo’s house, strolling down the cool pavement.

A few drops of rain started to fall from the sky.

Ranboo smiled. Maybe he could stay out a bit longer.

Not thirty minutes later, his burner phone buzzed in his pocket.

Tommy: Ranboo this isnt funny

Tommy: where are you

Tommy: phils about to file a missing persons report

Ranboo: on my way

Ten minutes passed, and Ranboo burst through the front door of the Watson home, absolutely drenched. 

“Ranboo!” Phil shouted, and Ranboo flinched. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice. “Ranboo, where were you? I was worried sick!”

Though Phil was mad, Ranboo felt a little bit of warmth in his chest. He’d never had someone worry about him like that, enough to nearly file a missing persons report.

“Sorry,” Ranboo said, looking down at his shoes.

“No, it’s–,” Phil sighed. “I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Ranboo smiled slightly, turning to Tommy. “I am sorry, for the record.”

Tommy grinned back. “I’m sorry, too. Things got kind of heated, I know we both said some things we didn’t mean.”

Ranboo felt the warmth in his chest again. Maybe these people weren’t so bad. 

Phil pulled Ranboo’s good phone from his pocket. “You deserve this, then. Here you go. How did you text Tommy, though?”

Ranboo felt the tightness of lying in his chest. “From a friend’s phone.”

“Alright,” Phil said. “Just don’t disappear on us again, please? At least tell us where you’re going.”

“Sure. I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Phil said. “Oh, and– sleep well, Ranboo.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Ranboo’s face.

Chapter Text

In the middle of the night, Ranboo woke up. 

Outside the window was an empty night void. Screams echoed from somewhere in his brain, seeping into the thick bone of his skull and lingering.

A small lick of flame licked the edge of the door.

Ranboo’s heart stopped.

The flames creeped under the door, whispering up to the bed, unnaturally silent as Ranboo lay, paralyzed, unable to do anything.

The screams in his skull intensified, terrified shrieks and desperate wails.

The flames licked over Ranboo’s arms, charring, screaming, burning as he felt his skin char and fall away, and his own screams joined the chorus.

Ranboo woke up again.

The door was on the other wall. Silence settled like a blanket over the room, Ranboo’s heavy breathing the only sound. 

Orange-red light seeped under the door again, licking flames eating through the carpet and paper and blankets and Ranboo and–

Ranboo woke up.

This time, there was already fire, towering flames around him like the center of a bonfire and he was the one in the center, tears streaming down his face as his skin blackened and charred–

Ranboo woke up, finally able to move. He leapt out of the bed, staring at the door suspiciously. Nothing seemed to be off. He wasn’t paralyzed. The night sky looked normal. The door was on the left wall, like it should be.

Despite the October air, Ranboo pushed open the window on the other wall, sliding his legs through the pane and slipping onto the slanted roof.

Ranboo hugged his knees to his chest, shivering in the cold night air and relishing the reality . The stars stretched on and on in the sky, blanketing the world in a chill breath of fresh air. Ranboo relished in it, filling his lungs with the feeling. 

There he sat, the October Hunter’s moon a pockmarked pearl glowing in the black nothing sky. He could feel the rough shingles under his feet and back as he lay back, scraping against his black bomber jacket as he hugged the coat to his body.

Suddenly, the frosted window creaked open next to Ranboo, short bursts flaking hard ice from the edges.

“Stupid– frozen– window–,” Tommy said between heaves, breathing heavily as he scrambled onto the roof beside Ranboo. “Hey, Ranboob.”

“Hey,” Ranboo replied. “How’d you know I was out here?”

“The plants told me. The succulent sees everything, you know.”

“Impossible. Harold wouldn’t snitch on me if his life depended on it.”

Tommy shrugged. “Maybe another plant told me. You don’t know.”

Ranboo laughed a little, still shaky from the nightmare. “I bet it was a spider plant. They can be such gossips.”

Tommy laughed back. A comfortable silence settled over the duo.

“I think–” Tommy sighed. “I don’t think I forgive you yet. But I do accept your apology.”

“That’s fair. I don’t think I forgive you yet, either.”

“...Maybe someday, we could be friends? I swear I really do want to be, I’m not just trying for bragging rights or something.”

Friends… 

Ranboo smiled. “Maybe.”

“Hell yeah! Talking about our problems is so poggers!”

Ranboo visibly cringed. “I take it back. You’re cringe and I’m leaving. Actually, I was here first. How did you even get out here? Did you sneak through my room?”

Tommy gestured to the other window on the section of roof. “That’s my window. Phil thinks it’s stuck. Don’t tell him, okay? He’d have a fit if he heard we were climbing out on the roof, especially past midnight.”

“So did Techno not tell you I was out here?”

“Nah, big man. I just saw you.”

“Stalker behavior.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep either, and misery loves company.”

Ranboo stretched out on the roof, letting his hands hit the siding. “You can go back in any time you want, but I probably won’t go back to sleep. Insomnia, remember?”

“Between you and me, me too.”

Ranboo laughed a little. “Never told Phil?”

“There’s a lot of things I’ve never told Phil.”

“Really? I thought you two were, like, really close.”

Tommy avoided Ranboo’s gaze. “Um. Well, no, not really.”

“Oh.” Ranboo knew better than to push it.

Tommy sighed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You know how I was adopted?”

“Tubbo told me.”

“Right. Well, um… Phil had a lot to learn when he took me in. About fostering kids, you know. He’s better now, I just never unlearned old habits, I guess.”

“Oh.” Ranboo tried to hide how shaken he was by the comment. “But he’s better now?”

“Yeah,” Tommy smiled. “Yeah, he’s great. Always has been, even when he wasn’t the best. These people– Techno and Wilbur and Phil– they helped me through a really tough time, you know. They didn’t even know what I was going through and they just… yeah.”

That’s what Tubbo said, Ranboo thought. He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it in his hand. “Want to listen to some music?”

“Yeahsure.” Tommy responded as one word, leaning back on the roof and sighing. “I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

Ranboo didn’t respond, just hit play on his favorite playlist, turning the volume up some and setting his phone on the roof between the two boys. The shitty speakers crackled and hissed, familiar strands of music whispering into existence from where Ranboo had paused in the middle of the song. 

–descend so well,

In an open diving bell,

The beauty of the deep

Far into abyss

In your silent lips

Call me, will I sleep?

Tommy exhaled, visibly relaxing into the roof. The edges of his red sneakers dangled off the edge, a precarious tempting of fate.

Tommy bit his lip. “Did you break the mirror?”

Ranboo tensed.

“I won’t tell anyone. Nobody uses that bathroom.”

Ranboo looked up at the starry night sky. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

Silence settled like a blanket over the pair, but for once not suffocating.

Ranboo smiled.

There they sat, for once side by side, quiet and calm as the first reaches of dawn caressed the horizon and the day began.

Tommy let out an exaggerated yawn. “Today’ll be a rough one. I’m getting a ride with Niki today, so… see you at school?”

“See you,” Ranboo agreed, climbing back through the window. He pulled on a plain black hoodie and some pants, walking out of the bedroom to greet the day.

The ride to school was, thankfully, uneventful. Ranboo got the back seat to himself, thanks to Tommy riding with Niki and Wilbur having a Jazz rehearsal before school. Ranboo had never gotten involved with the music program before, but Wilbur was good . He played the electric guitar; Ranboo heard him practicing a lot. For a band kid, he was pretty cool, too.

Ranboo sat through his first three classes, mostly dozing off through all of them. Finally, in fourth period, he spotted his favorite familiar face, sliding into the seat beside Tubbo.

“Hey Tubs!” he grinned ear to ear, half delirious from lack of sleep. “Are you feeling better?”

“Loads.” Tubbo smiled back, wincing a little from a cut on his cheek. “How’re you?”

“I talked to Tommy. Like, a lot, actually. He’s pretty cool, you were right.”

Tubbo grinned smugly. “I knew you would get along. I’m always right.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ranboo playfully shoved Tubbo’s shoulder. 

Tubbo smiled, his face shifting into a more serious expression. “Thank you. For, you know, helping me out last night. Genuinely, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Ranboo was taken back. “Seriously, I don’t mind at all. Call me whenever you need help, Tubbo. I’ll be there, you can be rest assured. 

*****

Ranboo sighed, pushing the palm of his hand over his eye. 

Monday mornings were the worst.

The teacher had assigned some stupid worksheets on similes over the weekend, which Ranboo, frankly, didn’t care about.

Conveniently, however, she had just decided to mention that failure to turn them in would result in a detention. And if Ranboo got way too many of those, he could get suspended or even expelled, if it got bad enough.

So now Ranboo was frantically scribbling on the lemon-yellow sheet, pulling on his hair with his other hand. He sighed, hitting his hand on the desk.

Suddenly, someone tapped on the wood next to him. Ranboo looked over and saw Tommy, discreetly pushing his paper just by the edge of the desk. Ranboo gave him a grateful look, and started writing faster than ever. 

He was done just in the nick of time.

Ranboo pumped his fist as he placed the paper in the turn-in bin. He grinned at Tommy, and the blond returned it.

As he walked back to his seat, Ranboo suddenly realized something.

He was friends with Tommy now. They did things for each other.

Tommy let him copy his homework. That was a thing for Ranboo.

Ranboo had to do a thing for Tommy.

Fuck.

Making friends was hard, Ranboo decided, slumping over in his seat.

Chapter Text

Ranboo picked at the food on his lunch tray. It was spaghetti, but the noodles were more rubber than grain, and the sauce was so watery it might as well have just been, well, water.

Today, Ranboo sat with Tubbo on his right and Tommy on his left at the lunch table. It was the best kind of sandwich, he decided. A Ranboo sandwich. 

“Is your pasta okay!?” Tubbo exclaimed. “Why is it molded like that? Is that the shape of the cup it came from?!”

Ranboo groaned, poking it with his plastic white spork. The handle bent. “Are they even allowed to serve this stuff?”

“I don’t think it counts as food,” Tubbo agreed. “You should have gotten the pizza, like me.”

“I should have. I was so naive in my love for spaghetti…”

“Oh, ewwww!” Tommy looked over at Ranboo’s tray, his nose wrinkling. “Here, you can have half my sandwich. You’re not allergic to peanut butter, right?”

Ranboo looked at the blond in surprise.

“Here, it’s triangle cut.” Tommy slid the PB&J over to Ranboo. “Strawberry jelly, too.”

Ranboo took it, pulling off the saran-wrap. “Thank… you.”

“Of course.” 

Ranboo sneaked a glance at Tubbo. He was grinning smugly. Ranboo sighed, taking a bite. It was miles better than the spaghetti.

“Are any of you joining the swim team?” Niki asked suddenly. “I’m going to, just want to know if I have any friends there.”

Tommy shrugged. “I think Hannah is.”

“Ooh! I love Hannah. I hope she is.”

“I think Eret is too?” Connor cut in.

“No, they wanted to, but the Mock Trial Club conflicted…”

The conversation quickly drifted away, and turned to white noise in Ranboo’s mind. He took another bite. The jelly was really good, he thought it might have real strawberries in it.

After lunch, Ranboo started to walk to his next class. He had Drawing 1 next. It was fun, but he didn’t know anyone in it.

He sighed, feet falling nearly silent on the tile-carpeted floor. Rounding the corner, his eyes fell on Tommy.

For a second, Ranboo thought he was seeing things.

It was Tommy, surrounded by three older people. Being bullied.

But that didn’t make any sense. It was impossible not to like Tommy. He was always so collected, even when Ranboo was talking to him on the rooftop he seemed so calm. But he was crying; he was hurting.

Ranboo stood in the hallway. His feet felt like lead in his hesitation. Ranboo had dealt with bullies before, but usually he just brushed them off and walked away. He’d thrown a couple of punches in his time, but nothing more. He wasn’t looking to start now.

He didn’t care about the blond kid that much.

“Poor little Tommy,” someone jeered.

“St-Stop!” Tommy’s voice cried out. There was a bruise on his jawline.

Something snapped inside of Ranboo. A strange wave of protectiveness washed over him.

He stepped forward, fast on his feet, and threw a punch at the tallest guy. The person turned to look at him, and Ranboo caught him in the face again.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ranboo yelled, his voice cracking in his throat. “Some senior [a/n age 17-18], bullying a freshman [a/n age 14-15]? That’s absolutely absurd. What, are you doing it because you feel small? Want to make yourself feel better by beating someone else up? You’ll be an adult next year, grow up and act like it.” Ranboo threw another jab.

“Excuse me?!” the guy spluttered. “Who are you ?”

Ranboo didn’t answer, throwing a punch at the next guy.

Someone –an adult, Ranboo felt– grabbed his shoulders, yelling at him to stop. 

He kept swinging. Someone else grabbed his arms and forced them to his sides. He struggled in their grip.

They couldn’t hurt Tommy. Nobody could.

Ranboo wouldn’t let them.

*****

“...And we are requiring that your child be signed up for mandatory anger management classes. We have a place in the next town over that we can recommend for you, here’s the pamphlet. Are there any questions?” the principal finished, folding her hands on the desk.

Phil shook his head mutely, one hand gripping the seam of his jeans.

Ranboo fidgeted with the earring –well, safety pin– in his right ear. These meetings weren’t anything new to him. ‘Please understand that your behaviour is completely unacceptable…’ . Ranboo knew the shpiel by heart now, he didn’t really need to listen.

Anger management classes was a first, though. Usually they just told him to ‘get better’ and gave him a suspension or something.

Phil stood up, grabbing the pamphlet from the principal, and moved to leave. “Thank you,” he nearly whispered. “I’ll be sure to get Ranboo signed up.”

“See that you do.” she smiled. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Watson!”

Neither Phil nor Ranboo responded.

The ride home was silent, worryingly so. When Ranboo got himself in trouble, most people wouldn’t hold their anger after they got out of the principal’s office. They’d tell him he had one more chance, or if he’d already used it, that he was kicked out, and then he’d be on his merry way.

While walking up to the front door, Phil suddenly stopped. Ranboo didn’t say anything, but looked up in confusion. 

“Ranboo…” Phil started to say, pushing open the door.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you know I don’t hate you for this.”

“...”

“I mean, I’m not kicking you out. You messed up, yes, but this… not everything is over. Okay?”

Ranboo’s cheeks grew hot. He didn’t know what to say.

“I’ll be in my office. Come get me if you need anything. The boys will be home in two or three hours.”

Ranboo turned and walked away. “Okay.”

Phil watched him go.

Ranboo’s first day of Anger Management Classes was the following Wednesday. It was a group class, with seven or so people and a teacher at the head of the vague circle they had made. The teacher had introduced himself as ‘Mr. Halo’, or just ‘Bad’.

Ranboo had asked to go to the bathroom as soon as the introductions were over. It had been fifteen minutes; he didn’t care enough to go back.

He sat down on a bench beside a water fountain, successfully on the other side of the building from the class. It was held in a sort of Community Civic Center. Ranboo hadn’t ever heard of it before, and he’d lived in this area basically his whole life. There was always more to see, he supposed.

Ranboo shifted his weight, and suddenly felt something in his pocket. Surprised, he pulled it out, and saw it was a Milky Way candy bar. He smiled. That one would be Tubbo, he was certain.

A note fell out beside the candy.

Thanks for punching that guy –Wil

Ranboo blinked. Wilbur had been going through his stuff?! He had no right to do that. Ranboo gritted his teeth. No matter how nice the gesture was, that was Ranboo’s stuff. He hadn’t been going through Wilbur’s things, there was no good reason for Wilbur to think that was okay. Angrily, he pulled out his phone.

Ranboo: [milkyway.png]

Ranboo: Leave my stuff alone.

Wilbur: Sorry man I thought youd like it

Ranboo: just dont go through my stuff

Wilbur: Ok ok

Ranboo sighed, tucking his phone back into his hoodie pocket. He stood up again, turning to walk in another direction and unwrapping the candy bar.

Before long, the sounds of muffled sobs entered his hearing range. Ranboo stopped. There was a kid sitting on the floor with their knees close to their chest. They looked about Ranboo’s age, if much shorter. They were wearing an oversized T-shirt with a striped long-sleeve undershirt, and a red beanie.

At first, Ranboo moved to walk past them. Whoever they were, they weren’t any of his business. 

…Ranboo couldn’t just leave them sitting there.

He could, though. He’d done it before, so many times. Why did it matter?

But he’d helped Tommy. He could help this kid, too.

Ranboo exhaled, sitting down next to the person on the floor. He broke off a chunk of the milky way bar and held it out to them.

“Hey,” he said.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Ranboo said.

“Hey,” the person sniffled. “What?”

Ranboo held out the chunk of Milky Way again. “You. Um. You look sad, you’re crying.”

The person snorted a snotty laugh, taking the candy. “Well, obviously.”

Ranboo bit his lip. He didn’t know how to talk to people, what was he doing!? “Are you okay? Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” they sniffled, rubbing their sleeves over their face. Snot and tears dripped down it. “Maybe.”

Ranboo brought his knees up close to his chest, too. “I’m Ranboo. I’m here for an anger management class, but I didn’t want to be there. What’s your name?”

The figure laughed again. “Anger management? But you seem so nice.”

Ranboo shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Thanks, I think.”

They smiled, blowing their nose into a rough tissue from their pocket. “I’m Aimsey, they/them. I’m here for the honor band. Um, I play trumpet.”

“What’s an honor band?”

“It’s just fancy band. You have to audition to get in.”

“Well, congrats, then. Or maybe not? Why are you crying.”

Aimsey looked at the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s okay,” Ranboo said, pulling out his phone. “What’s your favorite music?”

“I… I like video game music,” Aimsey said. “You know Omori?”

Ranboo nodded, typing ‘Omori OST’ into the search bar and pressing play. It was all silly little tunes, clearly meant to be played in the background of a fun world. Ranboo found himself smiling. 

“Thanks.” Aimsey smiled back. “Really. Thanks.”

Ranboo leaned back into the wall behind him, feeling the dull thunk of his skull against the bricks. He didn’t know how he was doing so well, to be honest. He was like TherapistBoo, and he had no idea how.

“So what’s your story?”

“Huh?”

“Your story,” Aimsey poked him in the ribs. “What’s with the anger management classes? Didja beat someone up?”

“Well, um… yeah.”

“Woah.” Aimsey’s eyes widened. “I was kind of joking, but hey, that’s cool. They probably deserved it.”

“Wasn’t the first time…”

Aimsey tensed. It wasn’t a lot, and it couldn’t have been intentional, but it was just enough for Ranboo to see and feel the little snap of one of his heartstrings. 

Ranboo breathed out, the silly video game music still playing in the background.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I don’t want to push something bad or anything, but if something’s really wrong, you can tell me.”

Aimsey looked anywhere except Ranboo, their eyes drifting from the cheesy posters on the walls to the fixtures on the ceilings and the tiled carpet floor. 

“I…”

“Don’t feel pressured or anything, seriously.”

“No, no, it's… I should tell someone. It’ll eat me up otherwise. But can we go somewhere else?”

“Sure, where?” Ranboo pressed pause on the music.

“Outside.” Aimsey stood up, wobbling a little before settling into a steady position. “I… I don’t want anyone to hear.”

They led Ranboo out the main doors of the Civic Center and over to an old bench. It was rotted and rusty, red on the metal parts and green on the wood. 

Aimsey sat down, relaxing a bit. Clearly, this wasn’t their first time here.

“So I’m in the honor band, right?”

Ranboo sat up straight, suddenly paying rapt attention.

“And we split up into sectionals. You know, the french horns go to one section of the building, clarinets go to another, percussionists go to yet another. It’s so we can practice parts we need to get better at as a section, but not as the full band. And I play trumpet, so I went with all the trumpet kids to some classroom.

“And there wasn’t a teacher. Because sectionals are supposed to be just with your section.”

Aimsey scrubbed at their eyes. They were crying now, tears flowing down their cheeks. “Sorry,” they said, in between hiccups. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s really okay.”

Aimsey hugged their shoulders, shaking. “The second trumpet. He tried to… do stuff. To me. And it was really bad.”

Ranboo froze. He felt his heart drop into his stomach and splash. “I’m… so sorry.”

They buried their face in their hands. “It’s ok. It’s not your fault. It’s fine, really.”

“No it’s not.” Ranboo scooted closer to Aimsey, just enough to let them know he was there. “It’s not okay.”

Aimsey swiped at their eyes one last time, rubbing their striped sleeve over their face and leaning back into the bench. “God… and you think you know people.”

“How long have you been in the band?”

“It’s been, like, 2 months. We rehearse every week. Our concert’s in 2 more.”

“Oh.” Ranboo swallowed. “Are you going to, you know…”

“I’m not going back, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Ranboo nodded in confirmation. “That really sucks. Like, it really sucks.”

“Well, what could we even do? That’s just life. You spend all your time working and practicing and some asshole decides to show up and ruin it in the worst way possible.”

“I could beat him up too,” Ranboo suggested.

Aimsey laughed. “As much as I’d love to see that, it’d just land us both in more trouble.”

“So no?”

“No!” Aimsey cackled, her face still tearstained. “Honestly, do you beat everyone up who does something wrong?”

Ranboo shrugged. “I don’t know. This just… this is really heavy. I don’t think we can just leave it alone.”

Aimsey looked down at their lap. “I don’t know either. This is all too much.”

“Can I have your number?” Ranboo asked suddenly. “Not in a romantic way at all. Just so we can still talk at all, since you won’t be back here again.”

“Sure,” Aimsey shrugged. Ranboo handed them their phone, and moments later they had a new contact.

Ranboo grinned. “Where do you go to school? You are in high school, right?”

“Oh, I go to West Ridge. I live over there, I just come here for honor band.”

“Wait, actually? I also go to West Ridge. I’m a sophomore [a/n: aged 15-16].”

“So am I!”

Ranboo found himself smiling from ear to ear. “I guess I’ll see you at school, then.”

“Maybe we have classes together and have just never noticed.”

Suddenly, Ranboo’s phone buzzed. Then, it buzzed again. Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket. “Oh, the class I’ve been ditching is already over, whoops. Sorry, but I have to go. My foster parent is looking for me.”

“You’re all good.” Aimsey grinned. “I should probably call my mom to pick me up anyways. See you sometime!”

Despite everything, Ranboo’s heart felt lighter than it had in years.

Chapter Text

Phil sighed, burying his head in his hands.

They were stopped at a red light in Phil’s car, Ranboo in the passenger seat.

“Mate. There’s not much use in anger management classes if you don’t go to them, Ranboo.” The light turned green, and Phil stepped on the gas. 

“I know,” Ranboo was staring out the car window. The roads back to Phil’s house were familiar now, after the few weeks it had been. A left here, a right there. Take the second exit at the roundabout.

“You know…” Phil looked out the window. “Techno used to really struggle with this kind of stuff. You could talk to him, it couldn’t hurt.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes, turning his head so Phil couldn’t see. “Yeah. Maybe.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Grateful for the distraction, he pulled it out and checked the notification.

Tubbo: hey do u wnana hang out tommorow

Ranboo: sure when

Tubbo: after school, my huose

Tubbo: we play candyland 

Ranboo grinned. “Can I go to Tubbo’s after school tomorrow?”

“Tubbo?”

“My friend. He lives close.”

“Were you even listening to a word I said?”

Ranboo looked back at his phone, guiltily. “Just for a couple hours.”

“Sure. Whatever. Just be back at the house for dinner.”

Ranboo grinned. They were back at the Watson’s now, and he almost sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom he slept in. He could hardly wait.

The anger management class had started at seven, and it went to eight thirty, so Phil was already going to bed. Old man. Ranboo knew Wilbur and Techno would follow later, at about ten, Tommy at eleven, and then it would just be Ranboo.

He hated how silent the house got. 

Maybe, just once, it couldn’t hurt to try a melatonin gummy.

Ranboo was out before his head hit the pillow.

The next day, Ranboo could hardly wait.

He always got like this whenever he planned to hang out with Tubbo. Giddy, excited, hardly a bad feeling to be found. 

Finally, in his fourth hour, he slid into the seat next to Tubbo. “Tubso!!” 

“Boo!” Tubbo laughed. “Are you excited for candyland!?”

“Of course. How’d you even get Them to let you have friends over?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Tubbo shrugged off the question. “Oh, by the way, I invited someone new. I’ve known them for a while, and I think you two will really get along.”

Ranboo caught it. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter. My birthday’s coming up soon anyways.”

Ranboo sighed. If Tubbo didn’t want to talk about it, that was his business. “So who’s this new person?”

“Someone I know from computer science. It’s a surprise.”

“Cool,” Ranboo grinned. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Science, history, P.E, it was all boring. Lunch was pretty fun, what with Karl trying to gaslight Connor into thinking gummy worms were coming out of his nose, but still. 

Finally, at the end of the day, Ranboo met Tubbo outside the school, standing with someone new. 

They caught his eye, and Ranboo felt his jaw drop. “Aimsey?”

“Oh wow, Ranboo!” Aimsey blinked.

“Wait, you already know each other?”

“We met yesterday.” Ranboo shrugged. 

“At the honor band thing?” Tubbo asked.

“Yeah. Turns out it and the anger management classes were in the same building.”

Tubbo started walking, leading the way back to his house. Ranboo and Aimsey were quick to follow. 

“How is the honor band thing going, by the way?” Tubbo asked. “And when’s the concert again?”

“Oh. Um… I’m not going to do it anymore.” Aimsey responded.

“Oh, why–?” Tubbo started to ask but stopped when he saw their face. “Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah. Just, the people in it. Did some stuff I didn’t like. I’ll text you more later, I just…” they gestured at the street around them which was bustling with people. “Not here.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Tubbo grinned. “Did you want to check out the North Ridge honor band? It’s not too far away, and you could still be playing. I think auditions are due next week.”

“I still have the video I used to apply for this band, I’ll just use that.”

“Awesome! Let’s do that when we get back to my house.”

The walk from there was rather short, just a couple of blocks and they stood in front of the familiar brown-sided house.

“Just go straight down to the basement when you get inside,” Tubbo explained to Aimsey. “That’s where everything is. We don’t need to go upstairs.”

Aimsey nodded, and they walked quietly down to the basement. Tubbo had even set them up a rug on the cold concrete floor, the familiar bright colors of Candyland perched in the center and a deck of Uno beside that.

Aimsey pulled out their phone. “What was the honor band called again? I’m going to send in the audition now.”

“North Ridge Honor Band.” Tubbo said, taking the colorful board out of the board game’s box. “It’s on northridgebands.org, I think.” 

“Okay.” Aimsey nodded. “Alright, sweet. I sent it in. It’s an old audition, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Awesome.” Ranboo grinned. “Let’s play Candyland!”

Tubbo shushed him, but handed out the pieces. Red to Ranboo, yellow to Aimsey, and green to himself.

Aimsey won instantly, because of course they did. They hit every shortcut and almost every candy spot, putting Tubbo and Ranboo to shame.

“This is unfair,” Tubbo sighed, flopping back on the cold, hard floor behind him. “We should play the Game of Life instead. I’m good at that.”

“No, you just choose your spouse to be a guy and blackmail everyone into letting you win by calling them homophobic.” Ranboo rolled his eyes.

“Ooh, calling him out!” Aimsey laughed. “I can’t judge, though. I’ve done the same thing.”

“Haven’t we all?” Tubbo said. “I feel like– I feel like that’s a normal thing to do, all things considered.”

Ranboo grinned. “I’m not innocent either, I fear.” He grabbed a card, resetting the Candyland game and moving three spots to the nearest red. “I’m winning this time.”

Of course, Aimsey one again. And the next time. And the time after that.

“I’m sick of this,” Ranboo groaned, pushing Aimsey’s yellow gingerbread man over with his hand. “Let’s play Uno.”

“Nooooo!” Tubbo complained. “That’ll be worse. You know it will be.”

“Nothing like lifelong grudges with people you met yesterday.” Ranboo grinned, dealing seven cards to each of them.

“This is ridiculous,” Tubbo grumbled.

Chapter Text

Dinner that night was eggs, which would have been okay if they weren’t scrambled.

Ranboo had nothing against scrambled eggs as a whole, but they were supposed to be breakfast food. And if you were going to do breakfast for dinner, it should be waffles, not eggs.

He reached for the ketchup bottle, squirting it over his plate and adding bits of bacon and green onion, too. Techno looked at him a little weird for all the ketchup, but Tommy’s eggs were already piled sky-high with the stuff.

“So how was managing anger or whatever?” Tommy asked, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

Ranboo shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“He didn’t go,” explained Phil. “Just ditched the whole time.”

“I made a new friend; isn’t that what you were trying to get me to do anyways?” Ranboo scoffed.

“Well, that’s great and all, but you might get expelled if you don’t go to the classes after the stunt you pulled.”

“What stunt? I was standing up for Tommy. If you really care about him, you shouldn’t be mad.”

Phil sighed, planting the butt of his palm on his left temple. “Of course I care about Tommy. But I care about you, too, and that means not letting you fight people like that.”

“Whatever.” Ranboo shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Phil seemed to recognize his disinterest. “Wilbur, Techno, have you guys submitted your interviews for that honor band yet?”

“Yeah,” Wilbur said. “But since I was in it last year I’m basically guaranteed a spot.”

Techno nodded. “I’m not too sure about my spot, because there’s always an overflow of violins at North Ridge, but I’m hopeful.”

“You’re a good player and person,” Phil smiled. “You’ll get in, I’m sure of it. Ranboo, are you okay?”

Ranboo was frozen. Tommy, he was sure was safe, but anyone else he still wasn’t sure about anything. Techno gave him Harold, which was grounds for ‘alright’, but Wilbur with that Milky-Way stunt made him nervous, even though it was good-intentioned. Either way, Aimsey had been through enough already. 

“Ranboo?”

“Yeah. I’m all good. Wilbur, um… what do you play?”

“Well, mainly guitar, but since there’s not really anywhere for that in a concert band like North Ridge’s, I’m a decent flute player as well.”

Ranboo blinked. Wilbur the flautist was not something he’d seen coming. “Alright. Cool.”

“I will never get used to how big of bites you can take,” Tommy laughed.

Ranboo looked at his fork, where a mountain of eggs the size of Everest was piled. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it. “And I’ll never get used to how much ketchup you eat on a daily basis. What are you, seven?”

“Sometimes I think he is internally,” Wilbur snickered.

“Shut up,” Tommy said.

“Well, since you guys have school off tomorrow,” Phil started. “I was thinking we could all go out for ice cream?”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Can we go down to twelfth street?”

“Well, obviously,” Phil snorted. “I’m not a heathen. ”

And so there they were, at thirteen o’clock on a friday, walking down main street as a ‘family’. They passed ninth street, then tenth, then eleventh… and finally twelfth. Since Ranboo didn’t get out much, he didn’t really get the hype about the ice cream on twelfth street, but if they were all so excited it must be good.

Finally, they stopped, in front of a storefront with a big ice cream cone sign made of loopy neon lights. Twelfth Street Ice Cream and Bakery, read the cursive lettering.

Tommy burst through the door, rushing to the counter. Since it was a work day for everyone else except West Ridge High, nobody was there. It was fortunate, since Tommy would have surely barreled through anybody standing in line in an effort to get to the front.

“Niki!” the blond cried. Surprised, Ranboo looked around, and sure enough, Niki Nihachu was standing behind the pastel-pink counter, taking people’s orders.

“Tommy!” Niki grinned back. “Glad to see you stop by. You had better tip well.”

“Of course, of course, oh Niki Nihachu, you know I always do.” Tommy was practically leaning on the counter now. “I’ll take a mega-scoop of double-chunk rocky road with ten pumps of caramel drizzle in a sprinkle-dipped chocolate waffle cone with gummy bears and Reeses on top.”

“Oh my god!” Niki laughed. “What is wrong with you!? Fine, whatever, I’ll put your order in.”

“Wait, seriously? I thought you wouldn’t have half that stuff.”

“We’re the Twelfth Street Bakery,” Niki scoffed. “Of course we do.”

Ranboo got strawberry ice cream. In a cake cone. With rainbow sprinkles on top.

It was, hands down, the best strawberry ice cream –or even just ice cream in general– he’d ever eaten. It wasn’t just ice cream– there were little bits of real, fresh strawberries in it, and Ranboo swore he could taste the cream.

“Good, innit?” Tommy grinned, holding his monstrosity of a cone. “They make it in-house. It’s the best stuff ever, I swear, and not only because Niki makes it. 

“I never thought I’d be so happy eating ice cream in November, but there you go. Best ice cream I’ve ever had.” Ranboo grinned. He was certain there was strawberry on his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Tommy laughed back, pulling his hoodie close around his arms. “Twelfth Street ice cream is good literally all the time.”

Ranboo and Tommy were sitting on a metal park bench, Phil, Techno, and Wilbur at an outside table nearby. You would have thought they’d go inside, with how cold it was, but Tommy insisted that ‘you weren’t really eating ice cream if you weren’t outside on the cool tables’. 

Suddenly, Wilbur cried out in excitement, and Techno started grinning, slightly. 

“Yes, yes! I can’t believe it, this is awesome!” Wilbur was nearly shouting.

“What happened, what happened!?” Tommy rushed over to Wilbur, taking care not to let his rocky-road catastrophe spill.

“We got in! Both of us!” Wilbur showed Tommy his phone. “North Ridge Honor Band, here we come!”

Ranboo felt a jolt of excitement in his chest, but for different reasons. He pulled out his phone, looking to text Aimsey, but Tubbo already beat him to it.

New groupchat created by [Tubbo]

Tubbo: did you get in?

Tubbo: aimsey did u do it???

Aimsey: hold up hold up

Aimsey: my internet is slow asf

Aimsey: reloading this website like a madman

Ranboo: you got this aimsey

Ranboo: we beliebe in u!!!

Aimsey: I GOT IT!!!

Aimsey: i GOT IN!!!!!!!! TRUMPET 3 LETS GOOOOOOO

Ranboo: yessss!!!!! CONGRATS

Tubbo: LETS GOOO i knew you would get in

Aimsey: yippee!!!

Ranboo put his phone back in his pocket, and smiled.

Chapter Text

That night, Ranboo couldn’t sleep.

There was no good reason for it. He wasn’t having nightmares. He wasn’t anxious about a decision. The bed was perfectly comfortable. He just couldn’t sleep.

That was insomnia for you, he supposed.

Sighing, he rolled over, turning on his phone and entering the short password he put in. It wouldn’t stop most actual hackers from getting into his files, but just it being there was enough to deter Wilbur and Techno –or worse, Phil– from trying to sneak around his messages.

He opened up Tumblr for the first time –Aimsey had recommended it for him, and Ranboo thought he’d give it a try.

Speaking of Aimsey, a notification suddenly appeared at the top of his smartphone screen.

Aimsey: can we call?

Aimsey: if ur awake that is

Aimsey: dont want to wake u.

Ranboo: im awake, insomnia’s a bitch

Ranboo: we can caall

[One (1) incoming call from Aimsey]

Ranboo clicked the green button on his phone screen, watching as the display shifted to the call screen, with Aimsey’s contact photo front and center. It was a cat playing a trumpet that Ranboo had found online somewhere, and he was 95% sure it wasn’t AI generated. He clicked ‘speaker phone’, and set it down on the bed beside him.

“Hey,” Aimsey’s voice came through the phone. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know,” Ranboo responded. “Lying in bed staring at the ceiling. The usual. How about you?”

“Oh, you know,” Aimsey mimicked. “Crying until I’m too exhausted to move. The usual.”

“Shit. Are you doing alright?”

“Surviving. I don’t know. I barely feel alive anymore.”

Ranboo blew out a breath. “I… I know the feeling. I wish I could say I didn’t, but I did. I’m… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed. Ranboo looked out through his half-frosted window, galaxies like spilled salt in an endless void. 

“Can you see the stars right now?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“They’re pretty tonight.”

Aimsey laughed a little. “They sure are. I used to love stargazing. I had a telescope and everything. It was all I wanted to do.”

“Stars are cool.”

“Yeah. But I think it was really because of this one indie game I played, Night in the Woods. There was a stargazing scene and I really wanted to be like those characters.”

Ranboo laughed, too. “I think I’ve played that game. Was it the bit on the roof with the old guy?”

“For sure, I wanted to see myths in the stars and stuff. It didn’t take me long to realize that you have to draw the pictures in the stars yourself, and I lost interest pretty quickly after that.”

“I think we all have phases like that.”

“Probably. But I still like looking at the stars.”

“What’s not to love?” Ranboo leaned against his window. “It looks like someone spilled glitter all over a black tablecloth.”

“Honestly, it’s nights like these that make me think that maybe the world is flat and the sky is just a big dome over us all.”

“It’s a lot better than in the city, trust me.”

“Did you used to live in the city?” Aimsey asked.

“Yeah, for a bit. Over in Central. I was fostered by a graphic designer there, probably one of the coolest fosters ever.”

“That is cool. I’ve only ever lived here in West Ridge with my mom. Only child and all that.” they paused. “What’s that sound?”

“I’m opening my window. Gonna get out on the roof.” Ranboo pushed his full body weight against the latch again, until finally it gave, the window sliding open. Luckily, there was still no screen. Phil hadn’t found out or anything.

“Are the stars better outside?”

Ranboo threw on his bomber jacket, climbing onto the ledge of roof outside the window. “...Yeah. They are.”

“Nice,” Ranboo could almost hear Aimsey’s smile. “I live in an apartment, so I can’t really go outside, but I’m opening my window.”

“Do you see the North Star?”

“Polaris. Yeah, I see it. Why?”

“I’m looking at it, too. It’s kind of funny to think that me, you, and anyone else in the world outside right now… we’re all looking at the same thing. No matter how far apart we are.”

Aimsey fell silent, for a moment. “It makes us all feel so small.”

Ranboo laughed. “I haven’t felt this philosophical in a while .”

Suddenly, the window on Ranboo’s left creaked open. He didn’t startle this time, because Tommy had done it before, but he was a bit surprised.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy,” he said.

“Ranboo!” Tommy half-whispered, struggling through the window in his spider pajamas. “Who are you talking to? What’s going on?”

“Noone–” Ranboo started to say, but stopped himself. “This is Aimsey. They’re a friend. Aimsey, this is Tommy. My foster brother.”

“Hi, Aimsey!” Tommy said. “What’s up?”

“Insomnia. But I’m sure that’s up with you, too, if you’re not asleep by now.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Tommy grinned.

Ranboo barked a laugh. “Are you going southern?!”

“Of course not, p’artner.”

Aimsey laughed through the phone. “I see why you like this guy, Ran.”

“We get along,” Ranboo agreed. “Most of the time, anyways.”

“So what’s your favorite movie, Aimsey?” Tommy asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t seen a lot of movies. I liked ‘Up’ when I saw it, though.”

“Yes!” Tommy cried. “Finally, someone who appreciates fine art!”

“Just because I told you I liked ‘Across the Spider-Verse’.” Ranboo huffed.

“Hey, it’s not my fault she has better taste than you.”

“They,” Ranboo said automatically.

“What?”

“They. Aimsey uses they/them pronouns.”

“Oh, sweet. Sorry,” Tommy apologized.

“It’s all good,” Aimsey assured him.

They sat together, comfortable chatting and looking at the stars as the night stretched on. Tommy ranted for nearly an hour about Cassiopeia. Ranboo didn’t even know that constellation had a name, he just thought of it as the ‘big W in the sky”.

But suddenly, as Tommy reached the climax of the story, almost shouting under the one-am stars and waving his hands wildly, Phil slammed open the window suddenly.

Ranboo jumped, nearly dropping his phone off the roof.

“Go to bed, please, ” Phil rubbed at his eyes, clearly exhausted. “I can’t catch a wink of sleep. And for fuck's sake, please get off the roof!”

Chapter Text

The next time Ranboo hung out with Aimsey and Tubbo, Tommy was there too.

This time, they were at the park by Aimsey’s apartment, which was near the high school.

“Must be nice,” Tommy had commented. “You can walk to school every day.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Aimsey had replied. 

Now, all four of them were gathered around the swingset. Tubbo and Aimsey were swinging, Ranboo was sitting on the structure bar, and Tommy was sitting on the ground. Ranboo had produced his shitty JBL speaker again, and the Crane Wives were singing through on full blast.

Oh, my brother, my brother, my brother–

Who have you become in the wake of all that’s happened here?

“This is some good music!” Tommy exclaimed. “How have I never heard this before?! This is amazing!”

“They are.” Ranboo grinned smugly. “Much better than your Twenty-One Pilates or whatever the heck you listen to in your free time.”

Tommy gasped. “The audacity. My music taste is incredible, I’ll have you know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Speaking of music,” Aimsey interjected. “I have my first honor band rehearsal instead of school tomorrow. It’ll be great.”

“Lucky,” Ranboo said, at the same time Tommy asked, “Which honor band?”

“North Ridge,” they replied.

“Oh cool. Both my brothers are in it. Maybe you’ll see them.”

“Maybe,” Aimsey grinned.

They stayed at the park for the rest of the afternoon, only hopping over to the corner store to get a slushee for everyone. Neither Aimsey nor Ranboo had any money, but Tommy made up for that because he’s awesome. 

“So, Tommy,” Aimsey asked, sipping a Cherry slushee. “What do you like to do and everything? I mean, I’ve talked to you, but I don’t really know you, you know?”

“Sure,” Tommy shrugged. “I like animals. Like cows. And video games, I love playing video games.”

“I code,” Aimsey said. “Maybe I’ll code you a cow video game sometime.”

“Really!?” Tubbo exclaimed. “I code, too! We should code together sometime.”

Ranboo laughed, grabbing Tommy’s hand. “Come on, we’ve got to get away from the nerds before they infect us, too.”

“Oh, come off it!” Tubbo laughed, too. “It’s just coding. I’m in coding class, so it’s schoolwork, too.”

“Oh, he’s enjoying school!” Tommy gasped. “You’re right, ‘Boo, we have to get out of here.”

“Boo?!” Ranboo exclaimed. “Sorry, Tommy, but I don’t like you like that.”

“I wasn't–! Oh, whatever. Wanna go try the big twisty thing?”

The ‘big twisty thing’, as Tommy had dubbed it, was the tire swing in the corner of the playground. Ranboo didn’t really see what it had to do with twisting, until Tommy spun him around and twisted the chain above the tire swing so much Ranboo thought it was going to snap.

And then Tommy let go, and he saw his life flash before his eyes. Literally.

“ To o ooo oo ooo o oo o oo o o ooo o o m mm m m y y y !!” Ranboo yelled. He thought he might warp into hyperspace. Or pass out. Or both.

“Isn’t it fun?” the blond gremlin was cackling like a maniac. “Dude, I did this all the time when I was in elementary school. I broke the tire swing, and then they banned me from it for life!”

“ S ssshh hhh ou ll d ddd h aa aav e be ee e n  l o oo ng ge e e er rr !”

“Oh, they weren’t even able to keep me off it for the rest of fourth grade!”

The tire swing twisted back to its unravelled state, but its momentum was so great it swung Ranboo in the other direction, twisting him at least twenty times and swinging back again before the swing finally came to a stop. Ranboo’s breakfast was in his throat.

“Never again!” he said decisively, dropping onto the hard woodchips and barely making it two steps before collapsing onto the ground from sheer dizziness.

“Mate!”

“I’m dying,” Ranboo groaned. “I’m already dead. Family Guy death pose. Tell my wife and children I love them.”

“Your wife and children!?” Tommy exclaimed. “I thought you were gay? Who’s your wife?”

“Tubbo,” Ranboo said.

With perfect timing, Tubbo and Aimsey walked up, Tubbo leaning over and bonking Ranboo on the head. “Are you telling people we’re married again?” he asked, disapprovingly.

“No…” Ranboo said, guiltily. Tubbo extended a hand, laughing, and helped him up.

“We’ve come to try the ‘big twisty thing’!” Aimsey declared. 

“No!” Ranboo cried. “No, don’t do it. Save yourselves! Save yourselves!” 

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Tommy said, grinning evilly. “Get ready to have the time of your life!”

“Er, sorry,” said Tubbo. “But does anyone else see the cop over there waving at us?”

Ranboo turned around, a flicker of cold fear slicing through his heart. It wasn’t that he was paranoid that he was accidentally breaking the law without realizing it, it was, well, it was just that.

But to his great relief, it was the familiar face of Sam, and he was waving Ranboo over. 

“Oh, it’s just Sam!” Ranboo laughed. “One second, guys, I’ll go talk to him.”

When he walked over, Sam looked… genuinely happy to see him. Which wasn’t a terribly often occurrence, and Ranboo was a bit shocked.

“Hey,” Ranboo said. “Are you… did you go around trying to find me? Or is this just a random occurrence?”

“Oh, I’m just passing through.” Sam laughed. “It’s totally random. You know, Ponk and I were just talking to Phil about you.”

“Yeah?” Ranboo felt the cold streak of fear again. “About what?”

“Just everything. How you’ve been getting on. I must say, I’m a bit disappointed by the whole punching situation, but overall, I’m proud.”

“Proud?”

“Yeah. You seem to be getting on rather well. Phil said you’ve befriended Tommy, and some other kids, and just looking at your little ragtag group over there, it seems like you’re finally coming out of your shell.”

Ranboo scowled. “I guess.”

Sam leaned over and put his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant to say is, well, you look happy. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you before, and that makes me happy. So keep it up, alright?”

Despite himself, Ranboo felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. “Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

“There you go.” Sam patted Ranboo’s shoulder, then stood up and stretched. “I should probably be getting on. Nice seeing you, hm? Hope we don’t meet to soon, for your sake.”

“See you,” Ranboo said, and Sam drove off. He walked back to Tubbo, Tommy, and Aimsey.

“You know a cop?” Aimsey asked, almost in awe.

“Dude,” Ranboo laughed. “You met me when I was ditching an anger management class. How are you surprised?”

Aimsey rolled their eyes, embarrassed. “I don’t know.”

“He was from the foster place, right?” asked Tubbo, grinning. “I remember him!”

“Yeah!” said Ranboo. “He said he’d been talking to Phil, and I seemed to be doing good. So that’s a plus, probably!”

“Oh, sick, man!”

Tommy frowned. “Did he say anything of what Phil said?”

“I don’t know,” Ranboo replied. “Just normal things, I think. He said Phil said we were friends.”

“Seems pretty normal.” Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m glad you’re doing well, though. It’s nice Phil was able to be better about it the second time.”

“Better about what?”

“Fostering a kid.”

Tubbo sucked in a breath. “Was he… a bad foster parent to you?” he looked nearly ready to murder.

“No, no, not like that!” Tommy laughed. “He just… I’d been in some bad situations before his house, and he didn’t know how to deal with me. That’s all.”

“Is it still happening?” asked Aimsey. “‘Cause if it is, tell him.”

“No, he got better. But I still don’t think he ever really realized what he was doing, or especially how it affected me. But it’s fine, anyways.”

“No, it’s not.” Aimsey frowned. “Or, it doesn’t have to be, at any rate. Seriously, tell him. You can work it out together. No one –and trust me when I say this– should have to live uncomfortably because it’s easier not said aloud.”

“I said it’s fine!” Tommy almost shouted. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice. “Sorry. But really, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“...Okay,” said Aimsey, “I’m not super convinced, but I’m ready to drop it. Did you guys want to try out the big slide next?”

“Big slide!?”

Later that night, Ranboo couldn’t sleep again. He wasn’t particularly anxious or excited for something, he just couldn’t sleep. And it was annoying as all get out.

Slowly, he crept down the stairs, intending to find any Cheezits still in the pantry. He slowly opened the cupboard, taking care not to let it creak, when he heard voices coming from the room beside the kitchen. Curious, Ranboo crept over, almost silent in his socked feet.

“--And it really hurt me. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know if you really knew that, and I wanted you to know. Sorry,” Tommy’s voice was saying. 

“Oh.” that was Phil’s voice, and it was quavering. “I’m. I’m very sorry. I had no idea. I’m sorry I wasn’t better. Am I still bad?”

“No, no, no. You’re good now. You’re great. And I really– I really appreciate all you’ve done for me. Thanks. Seriously.”

“Yeah. Of course. And thanks for telling me. We can talk about it more later. Maybe therapy-style or something, as the kids say?”

Tommy huffed a laugh. “Sure, dad. We’ll do that.”

Phil’s breath caught in his throat. “See you in the morning.”

Ranboo heard footsteps coming towards the door, and barely made it back to the cupboard in time to make it look like he had been getting cheezits the whole time. Tommy walked past and back up the stairs, grabbing a handful of Ranboo’s crackers on his way by. Ranboo tried his best to keep a straight face, but couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread over it.