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Ranboo drags himself through the snow, burn wounds going up and down his body. His suit is crumpled, half of it discarded as he crawls along the ground. His eyes are firmly pressed shut, and he refuses to open them, just in case he sees him, Dream, again. Ranboo sobs as the snow melts on his skin, the water scalding him as it trickles down his arms and chest. He can see warm light from behind his eyelids, and he stops moving, fear gripping him. Did he not teleport fast enough? Did he not go far enough? Is he back home, back in New L'manberg? The light is the community house's, it has to be. It's his fault and he did this all and people got hurt because of him and-
He feels himself being picked up, scooped into arms that have soft fabric over them. There's something warm wrapped around him a second later, feeling like feathers. He doesn't fight it, he doesn't try to get away. There's no point. He can't teleport anymore, he can't fight it. Ranboo feels heavy, like he's falling. He feels like he's spiraling, like he's going insane. Like he's finally dying. His world is tired and draining and heavy, and Ranboo closes it out.
Ranboo blinks. He looks down at himself, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of bandages around his arms. He reaches up, touching the same bandages on his neck. Ranboo looks to the side, not recognising the area he's in whatsoever. He's never been here before. Unless he has, and he just doesn't remember. Ranboo is fairly certain that he hasn't been here before. He softly curses under his breath, realising that he doesn't have his book on him. He left it in his house. He didn't have time to grab it, he had to run. Why did he have to run? Right, Dream. Right, he's a traitor. Why is he a traitor? Ranboo doesn't know the answer to that.
He shifts in the chair that he's in, staring down at his feet. They're all wrapped up. Half of his body is completely in wraps, and he doesn't quite remember why. He hears a whooshing outside of the house, turning his head to look out the window. He watches as snow falls from the sky, landing on the windowsill. Snowflakes frost over the panes, shining in the light. Ranboo winces as he watches them, wondering if that's the reason he's in so much pain. He tries to stand up, but his legs don't work, giving out before he even gets the chance to stand. Ranboo looks away from the outside, anxiety stirring in his chest.
He wishes that he knew where he was. He wishes he remembered things better. Ranboo lays back in the chair, pushing his hands through his hair. He cover his face with his eyes a moment later, letting out a groan. He doesn't understand anything. Ranboo doesn't understand why he's still alive, or why someone..
Right, someone brought him here. Someone picked him up and carried him here. Someone had to have wrapped him up, someone is taking care of him. There's another person, if not more, in this house. Ranboo isn't alone here, someone made sure that he lived. He slowly lowers his arms, wincing when he shifts wrong, pain flaring up throughout his body. He remembers being told that ice helped burns, but..Ranboo sighs. He can't touch ice. He can't touch water.
He can. It just will kill him.
Ranboo flinches at the sudden sound of a door creaking, watching as the front door flies open, snow billowing in a second later. A man pushes his way through the wind, shoving the door back, locking the howling wind outside once more. Ranboo stares at him. He has wings, massive wings that span on for so long, with little white diamonds on them. He's dressed in blue, a long cloak trailing behind him, fur outlining his coat. Ranboo doesn't recognise him. The man turns, heaving a sigh. His face is red, and snowflakes cover his hair. "Oh, hey," the man looks up at him, putting on a tired grin. "You're up earlier than I thought you'd be." The man slips off his gloves, tossing them onto a chair.
"..What?" Ranboo watches as the man drags a chair to sit in front of him, pressing his back against his own chair. He feels like he's been caught in a predator's den. Ranboo wishes that he could run, wishes that he could teleport. But he's too tired, he's too mentally drained. He can't leave, he's stuck here. "Um. I don't know you."
"Right, sorry," the man smiles. "I'm Phil," Phil offers him a hand, and Ranboo warily shakes it. "It's nice to formally meet you, Ranboo," Phil laughs, ducking his head. "Sorry that we had to meet like this. You were almost dead when I found you," Phil's laughter dies out, his eyes narrowing. Ranboo swallows, shifting uncomfortably. How did he know his name? "You're an Enderman."
"Half," Ranboo murmurs. "How'd you-"
"That explains it," Phil nods, looking slightly distant. "I've never met an Enderman hybrid. That would explain so much, huh.." he trails off, looking away. "Are you okay?" Phil asks, too suddenly. Ranboo jumps at the words, trying to hide the reaction as best as he can. "Sorry. Really, I didn't mean to startle you. I've never dealt with burns as severe as yours, so.."
Ranboo offers a smile, feeling less cornered. He feels more like he's..accepted. More like he's back home. "I think you did okay," he tells him, looking down at the bandages. "I didn't know that snow would hurt me."
"It's just frozen water," Phil shrugs. "You weren't too fucked until it started to melt, and that's when it did damage," Phil explains to him, all very casually. Like he's dealt with things like this before. Like this is normal for him, to bring someone back from their walk to death's door. "You are alright, yeah? I'm going to have to keep you here for a bit. Since, you know," he motions to the bandages that cover up most of Ranboo's body. "I have to rewrap these. So they don't get infected," Ranboo blinks, wondering how much pain that's going to cause him. "Don't worry, it probably won't hurt as bad as it did at first."
"I don't remember if it hurt at first," Ranboo tells him. "I don't..have a good memory."
"Ah," Phil clicks his tongue, leaning forwards. "Can I see your hand, Ranboo?" He isn't sure if he really has a choice, so he holds his left hand out without protest. Phil looks like he could kill him with one simple look, and Ranboo doesn't exactly want to die yet. Phil runs his fingers over the wraps, eyes narrowed carefully. There's a sudden pressure on his palm, and Ranboo feels a brief flare of pain before it goes back down, dissolving almost immediately. "I think that'll be the worst pain you'll feel when I rewrap these."
Ranboo blinks, frowning. He's had wraps like these before, and Tubbo has always put them on his arms and his hands whenever he needed them. But they always hurt so badly. "How do you do that?" Ranboo asks, tilting his head to the side. "How do you make it..not hurt?" Phil smiles at him, his eyes sparkling in the light that's emitted from the window.
"I'm a father, Ranboo. I've learnt how to make things feel better."
"One step at a time," Phil tells him, for the three hundredth time this minute. Ranboo holds back a sigh, knowing that he needs to take it slow, that he has to be careful. But he doesn't want to not be able to run or teleport if he needs to, and he's not going to risk getting captured by Dream or Quackity or Fundy. He doesn't know who he's supposed to trust, if anyone, but he knows that those three are probably the most dangerous to him. "Your boots are all laced, right?" Phil eyes him, and Ranboo has to pause. He looks down at his feet, scowling when he sees that they are not, in fact, laced.
"No," he leans down, crying out in pain when he feels one of his burns get irritated. He shoots back up, forcing himself to stay still, to breathe in and out, to ground himself. Ranboo closes his eyes, rocking back and forth on his feet for a second. "I'm..not sure I can reach down there to fix them," Ranboo admits, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Phil. Maybe we shouldn't do this today."
Phil raises an eyebrow at him. "If you don't want to get better, sure," he shrugs, kneeling down. His fingers move far too fast for Ranboo to keep track of, but when he stands back up, his boots are laced once again. "You were the one to suggest this, Ranboo. The faster you get used to it, the easier it'll be." Ranboo sighs, tossing his head back for a second, hissing when the burns on his neck get rubbed the wrong way.
"I know, I just.." he looks away, looks towards the door. "What if it starts snowing? What if it starts to rain? What if-"
"I'm right here," Phil locks eyes with him, spreading out a wing. "I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen that I can't take care of. I'm a dad, Ranboo. This kind of shit is my job," he cracks a grin, gently squeezing Ranboo's shoulder. "I promise. These kinds of things are what I do," Phil starts to walk, and Ranboo tries his best to follow, taking shaky step after shaky step. The boots are too big on his feet, and he wonders who they belong to. They aren't Phil's, he's fairly certain that they aren't. "Here," Phil reaches up, taking off his green and white striped hat, reaching out to set it on Ranboo's head. "Just in case anything does happen."
Ranboo laughs, adjusting the hat ever so slightly. He takes a few more wobbly steps, feeling his heart rate pick up again when the door starts to open. He stumbles back when the wind throws it open, tripping over his feet, and-
Phil is right there behind him, propping him back up, supporting him with ease. "You're fine," Phil tells him, his hand on his back. "You're all good. Wind's just strong, that's all."
"Y- yeah," Ranboo whispers, a chill going down his spine. "That's..all, yeah. Just the- just the wind."
"Just the wind," Phil confirms. Ranboo feels his chest hurt for a second, watching the man smile at him with such ease. Ranboo hasn't been looked at like that in a long, long time. Phil's smile is soft and gentle, there's no malice or ill-will behind it. His eyes are just as soft, and the lack of sharpness in them make him terrified. No one looks at him like that. No one ever wants to look at him in general, and Ranboo doesn't even know what he did. "Come on, we're not backing out of this now. We've already made it farther than we have an entire week," Phil puffs out his chest, keeping his hand on Ranboo's back. "You ready?"
No, Ranboo thinks. He's not ready at all. He's terrified, he's scared that he'll fall and that Phil won't be fast enough to catch him. He's afraid that he's going to get hurt, and he hates it when he gets hurt. It always burns so badly, it makes him scream and feel like he's gone insane. Every single time water touches his skin, Ranboo swears that he loses himself more and more. "Yeah," he lies through his teeth, and he can tell that Phil knows that. "You mention you're a dad, uh, like, all the time. Who..who are your kids?"
Phil heaves a sigh, glancing away for half a second. When he looks back, there's a fond, but tired, smile on his face. "I'll give you a few hints. One is dead, one isn't fully human and is an anarchist, and the other is exiled from his home right now." Ranboo blinks.
"Wilbur, Techno, and..Tommy?" He frowns, narrowing his eyes. "But you..none of you look like each other." Phil laughs, loud and filled with life.
"They're all adopted," Phil snorts. "They all found their way to me someway or another. They're good kids," he smiles. "They're good people, they really, really are. They tend to fuck up their fate more than they'd like to think that they do," he sighs. "But they're still my sons. Even if they fuck up shit constantly." Ranboo ducks his head, smiling a little. He didn't know Tommy for that long, but he knows that he liked him. He met Techno once or twice, illegally, and he decided that he liked him. Wilbur used to hover around New L'manberg a lot, but Ranboo hasn't seen him since Tommy's exile.
"I'm scared," Ranboo says, suddenly. "I don't want to go out there, because I'm, um, I'm afraid. That if I do, that, uh, I'll.." he looks away, breathing out. "I feel like I'm going to die out there, Phil. I don't want to go in the snow."
Phil nods, carefully moving his hand away from his back. "Well, we're going to have to work on it," he starts, slowly, "but we don't have to do it right now. Not if it's making you upset."
"I'm not upset, I'm just.." Ranboo shakes his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry," he offers the man a guilty smile. "I am, really, I'm sorry. I thought that I'd be able to do it, but I can't. Not right now." Phil smiles back at him, warm and caring.
"It'll be fine," he waves a hand. "Don't worry about it all too much, yeah? Let's just get you sat back down."
Ranboo can't help the relief that he feels, but he can't ignore the safeness that he feels, either.
Ranboo sits on the stairs of the porch, staring out at the snow.
It's been the better half of a month now, and he still hasn't been able to touch it. Ranboo still hasn't even been able to stand out in the snow, and this is the closest he's gotten. Phil's wings shield him from any stray snowflakes that might land on him, hiding him from the fierce chill. Phil is reading something, but Ranboo can't really focus on the words, staring down at the snow. It's almost entrancing, the way that the snowflakes make patterns and shimmer in the sun.
Before he knows what he's doing, Ranboo reaches out, planting his hand in the snow, and-
He screams, though he doesn't really hear that. All he feels is burning pain all throughout his body, his hand going numb and then flaring up with pain, repeating over and over and over and ov-
A book hits the ground. Wings flap. Someone else is yelling. There are arms around him, and he's being dragged away from the snow, being dragged from the- from-
"I heard there was a special place," a voice whispers to him. "Where men could go and emancipate, the brutality, and the tyranny, of their leaders.." Phil's voice is broken and it sounds like he's crying, and Ranboo doesn't understand why, why is he..why.. "Well, this place is real, we needn't fret," he whispers, "with Wil- Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret.."
Ranboo closes his eyes, the pain overwhelming him to the point of darkness.
Phil doesn't talk about it.
Ranboo tries his best not to.
His best has never been enough. "Um, Phil?" Ranboo calls out, setting the potted plant in his hands down. Ever since he came here, he's been working more on doing things, getting into a routine. It was hard without his memory book, but with Phil, he manages. Speaking of. Ranboo watches as the man's head pokes out of a room, one eyebrow raised. "Can I..can I ask you something?" The look on Phil's face tells him no, and Ranboo goes to say sorry, but-
"Yeah, sure," Phil shrugs, coming out of the room. "What's up, Ranboo?" He knows. He has to know, there's no way that he doesn't.
"When I..you know," Ranboo swallows, glancing down to his hand. It's burnt beyond belief. Phil doesn't think it'll heal. It's his fault. He doesn't know why he did it. "Why did you sing that song to me?"
Phil looks away for a moment, closing his eyes. "You remind me of Wilbur."
"What-?"
"My son, Ranboo. You remind me of my son. You remind me of Will. You remind me of my son."
Ranboo blinks. "Oh," he doesn't know what else to say. "I'm..sorry-"
"Don't be," Phil shakes his head, letting out a quiet laugh. "I thought you were him for a second, when we first met. You were laying down, and your coat was..and.." Phil breathes out. "You're sort of like a son to me, Ranboo. I just want to see you get better. That's all." And then Phil is standing up, and then he's gone, his cloak trailing behind him.
Oh.
Ranboo stands out in the snow, looking up at it as it falls down. He pretends like he doesn't feel the sting of snowflakes on his cheeks, pretends like they don't burn. The snow is up to his calves, but he isn't that worried. Phil is nearby, if anything happens, Ranboo knows that he'll be okay. He flinches at the sound of shouting from far off, not recognising the voices as Dream or Quackity's. He relaxes when Phil doesn't move from the porch, but stiffens when he sees the man's eyes go wide.
"Phil?" Ranboo asks, frowning. "Are you okay? Do we need to go inside?"
"Holy shit," Phil doesn't answer him. "No, no, you can..stay by the porch, where the snow won't hurt you." Phil stands up, outstretches his wings, and then he's gone. He's flying towards the people at lightning speed, landing in the snow right in front of them. He can't hear what they're saying, but Ranboo doesn't really need to know. He does as was asked of him, sitting on the porch steps, shielded by the roof. Ranboo watches as Phil's wings flap up and down, almost like he's happy to see the people. No one comes out here, no one has ever come out here before.
Ranboo listens as the voices get closer, listens to the one that he knows for sure. Phil sounds happy, he sounds animated. "I found him under the floorboards," a voice says, sounding annoyed, but not really. "He's like a raccoon, Philza. Look at him!"
"I'm not!" Another voice, one younger, protests. Ranboo blinks, tilting his head to the side. That's Tommy. He recognises that voice as Tommy's, and the only other person who doesn't hate Tommy is Techno, and oh.
Phil's kids are back home.
Phil doesn't need him anymore, does he? Was that the reason Phil kept him around?
Ranboo remembers Phil telling him about how much he missed his kids, about how much he wanted to see them again. That he sang that song to him because Phil thought of him like Wilbur. That Phil saw his son in Ranboo. Was that the only reason Phil wanted him here? To pretend like he had his sons back? That they weren't all scattered across the nation?
Ranboo feels his heart plummet. Oh.
He sees them approaching faster and faster, and he can't..he doesn't..he doesn't need to be here. He doesn't have to be here anymore. Phil doesn't need him.
He's not supposed to be here.
Ranboo runs. He nearly slips and falls into the snow but he doesn't, forcing himself to stay strong, forcing himself to not fall. He runs and he runs and he runs even more, not even sure where he's going anymore. Ranboo keeps running, hearing people shout after him, hearing wings and flapping and running and-
He teleports.
Ranboo teleports so far that he doesn't know where he is. He looks around, staring at the endless-
It's raining.
Ranboo hears himself scream, but it's cut off so unbelievably quickly. Silence rings in his ears, blood pounding in his head. Everything has gone so wrong, everything is wrong and he's messed up and he can't teleport in the rain, he can't teleport in the rain and he's going to die because he messed up and he messed up so badly and-
Phil's wings aren't there to protect him.