Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-Learning Appliances-

Ranboo sighed, tapping his fingers against his arm. Was it really worth it? He'd been avoiding the shower at all costs, but at this point, his hair was beyond greasy, and his scalp is starting to hurt. He glanced back at the shower, all of the knobs and buttons that mean absolutely nothing to him, and decided,  yes. It was worth it.   Taking one last breath, Ranboo scurried out of the bathroom, careful not to make any noise and possibly bother anyone.

Phil was in his room, which Ranboo  hated , but his light was on, and the door was cracked open.

Nervously, he tapped on the door, cringing as it spewed open and creaking filled the room. Phil glanced up from his book, looking a little surprised to see Ranboo.

"What can I do for ya?" Phil asked, a small warm smile finding its way to Phil's lips. It made Ranboo feel a little guilty.

"How do you work your shower?" He asked, fingers tapping against the wood.

Phil shuffled off of his bed, Ranboo muttering a small "sorry" as he approached.

"No worries," Phil assures. "I'll show you."

Ranboo trailed Phil back to the bathroom, watching intent as Phil explained what everything did in the shower. He was even nice enough to explain some of the bathroom's weird quirks and even the approximate area to turn the knob to for the perfect temperature.

To say it was the best shower Ranboo had ever had was an understatement.

It felt like washing away all of the foster homes he had been shuffled through for the past few months. His hair felt soft and fluffy thanks to whoever left out the conditioner, and his skin felt nice and soft. All the built-up oils had been washed away, leaving him with a distinct feeling of  clean . It was wonderful.

Drying off his hair, Ranboo glanced in the direction of Phil's door. He contemplated thanking him, but that would've been weird. He quickly dropped the thought and tossed his towel into the corner of the room.

Sleep didn't come easy but laying down with clean skin never hurt.

Ranboo looked in the fridge again. Then he checked the pantry for the third time. Nothing. Just ingredients. All the food in the house either needed to be made or warmed up in the microwave, which is  stupid  because he saw Tommy eating a huge bowl of chips earlier today. He probably ate them all, if Ranboo was being honest.

God, it was what? 3 am? Everyone was probably asleep right now. The rumble in Ranboo's stomach reminded him of exactly why he was in the kitchen at 3 am. He was going to have to ask someone how to work the microwave at this god-awful hour, isn't he? He glanced at the microwave, eyes desperately searching for a "add 30 seconds" button or  something , but his searching is fruitless. He resigns himself to his fate, slowly climbing the stairs.

Much to Ranboo's surprise, there was light pouring out under a closed door. He wasn't entirely sure who's, he hadn't learned the rooms yet, but that meant someone was  awake . Or passed out in the middle of something. Figuring that was his best bet, he knocked on the door and waited for a response.

Wilbur appeared as the door open, looking exhausted in the way that comes from staying up too late.

"Oh, Ranboo," he says, opening the door wider and shifting his weight onto one foot.

"How do you use your microwave?" He blurted out quickly, Wilbur taking a second to process the words before chuckling.

"C'mon, I'll show you."

Wilbur brushed past Ranboo, still chuckling lightly at the obscurity of the moment. Wilbur looked through the fridge quickly, pulling out a water bottle before turning to Ranboo. He promptly explained where the cook time button was and the door mechanisms, going off on a small tangent on how even he doesn't know what at least  half  of the buttons do. 

"And I've lived here for a while," Wilbur insists, taking a quick sip of water. "Anyway, any questions? I know Tommy stole all the chips, but you should  really  be trying for a more balanced diet."

"I-wh-yeah," Ranboo sighed. "How are you handling this so well? Like, I know on your door at 3 am asking how to work the microwave and you just show me? No questions? And you know I've been stealing food! I'm just..."

Wilbur gives him a  look , and for a second, Ranboo gets sacred he's said something wrong.

"First of all," Wilbur starts. "You live here; you're not stealing food. Secondly, I have no clue how much you know about any of us, but Phil doesn't have any biological children. We've been here, at one point or another. It's a process, and I'm not going to rush it. Take your time, get comfortable, y'know? Eat something better than potato chips. If you're gonna heat up the stew, I recommend two and a half minutes. Put a paper plate over it, so it doesn't get the microwave dirty. Put an ice cube in or something and stir."

Ranboo gapes slightly, glancing between Wilbur and the fridge.

"Welp, good night, Ranboo!" Wilbur says cheerfully, disappearing back up the stairs.

Ranboo heats up the stew for two and a half minutes, paper plate and all. It warm and perfect, and Ranboo eats slowly, savoring the small moment to himself before the sun rises. Wilbur's light is off by the time he comes back upstairs, but he can hear the soft strumming of guitar strings. Maybe one day he'll have to ask about that.

-Quiet Nights- (Quiet Nights Bring Quiet Confessions)

It was... a rough day. Ranboo was exhausted. Collapsing down on the living room couch was the most relieving thing he could've ever done, he felt. Despite his exhaustion, his mind was wide awake. His brain was swimming in fears he kept to himself and conversations with his therapists, the knowing looks everyone shares whenever someone wakes up screaming.

Tommy and Techno had both gone to bed. Wilbur and Phil were getting ready to turn in for the night, too. But...

"Hey, Phil?" he called softly. Phil turned his attention to Ranboo almost immediately, motion to give him a second. Ranboo completed as Phil sent Wilbur off with a small kiss to the forehead (that he had to drag Wilbur down for), which Wilbur pretended to hate. Then it was Ranboo, and it was just Phill.

"What's up?" Phil asked softly, placing himself next to Ranboo on the couch. He appreciates how Phil left a little space for him to fill or further as he needed.

"I... I wanted to talk with you. About some things my therapist told me." He still didn't know her name.

"Oh?" Phil's spine straightened, and Ranboo felt heard without saying anything.

"Yeah, she said I should talk to you about triggers and stuff and... I finally figured I should get that done, right?"

Phil noded, so Ranboo continues, rubbing his hands on his pants to get rid of the sweat.

"I have nightmares, you know that." Phil nods again. "They've been a lot less frequent recently, but... they still happen. I don't really remember them, but I always feel... scared. When I wake up."

Phil softens, just a little. Ranboo takes a shaky breath, blinking rapidly. "Um, sometimes I smell smoke when I wake up, and it usually fades away, but when Wilbur burnt food in the kitchen that one time I-" Ranboo gasps for breath, voices breaking. God, why can't he just get it all out? He  needs  to; he  needs to get this weight off his chest.  Why can't he?

Phil places a steady, grounding hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to do this all at once, mate."

Ranboo nods his head jerkily, trying to calm his breathing. Once he can take a deep breath and it doesn't hurt his stomach, he continues. "I thought, 'maybe the house is on fire,' and I would have to go through this all over again. God, I was so scared..."

Ranboo dropped his head into his hand. Phil's hand moved from his shoulders to rub gentle shapes into his back.

"I-I have other things, too," Ranboo sighs, lifting his head to look at Phil. "Fire, in general, makes me nervous, and I can't swim, so I'm kind of scared of drowning, but that's kind of a given." Ranboo chuckles wetly. "I j... I just, y'know, I think about all of these horrible things a lot, and it's hard to stop. My therapist says I've made a lot of progress, but it's so hard to see, you know?"

Phil nods. "When you first came here, you wouldn't come out of your room. Now you're fencing with Techno, talking to Wilbur about the stupidest shit, and making stupid dares with Tommy." Phil's fingers thread into Ranboo's hair for only a moment. "Think about that when you need to see your progress."

Ranboo nods, and his chest tightens. Tears burst from his eyes, and a strangled sob is ripped from his throat in what? Relief? Sorrow? He doesn't know. What he  does  know is how Phil pulls his close and lets him hide his face in the crook of his neck, allows him to cry about his family and mourn in the place he's learned to call home. Phil listens to every worry he has, no matter how small Ranboo thinks it might be. He sits, and he listens, and he comforts. Never speaking when it wasn't his place and allowing Ranboo to compose himself without mockery or questions.

Ranboo is exhausted, but he isn't ready for bed, Phil knows. Even as the kid is falling asleep on his shoulder, there's too much ache in his heart for a night of comfortable rest. Instead, Phil takes blankets of his own and Ranboo's and lays them on the living room floor, taking out the glow-in-the-dark stars they had storied away for nights like this and sticking them to the ceiling. Hot cocoa is made, and prescriptions were taken. That night was spent on the floor looking up at fake stars but feeling far less alone. Phil wouldn't dare complain about the headache he woke up with.

-Family Friends-

(Ranboo's first interactions with the family friends)

"Hey, Phil? Can Tubbo come over tonight?" Tommy asked, flipping over on the couch to face Phil.

"I think that'd be okay... Wil?" Wilbur hums and gives a thumbs up from the dining table, preoccupied with something on his phone. "Techno?" Techno gives a thumbs up from the floor. "What about you, Ranboo? Good to have people over for dinner?"

Ranboo, who had been watching the conversation with his eyes, paused. "Uh, s-sure," he says. What was happening?

"Alright. That settles that; let them know they're fine."

Tommy celebrates, furiously texting someone. Ranboo assumed it was Tubbo. Everyone has talked about Tubbo, most of all Tommy, but Ranboo actually had no clue who the guy was. And people? People over for dinner? That implies more than one, so obviously, having Tubbo over means having multiple people over. No preparations were made, so Ranboo assumes he doesn't have to change out of his casual hoodie.

At around six o'clock, there's a knock at the door, and Tommy scrambles from the couch to answer it. Several unfamiliar voices fill the air as Phil gets up to join Tommy at the door, then Wilbur, then Techno. Rigidly, Ranboo gets up too, making his way to the back of the group.

"Uh, and this and Ranboo," Phil says, and Ranboo is promptly pushed to the front.

He's greeted by three people, which he only has a second to look at before someone is shoving their hand out to him.

"Hello! I'm Tubbo!" Tubbo gives him a wide grin, and Ranboo quickly shakes his hand. Tubbo darts inside around him, chatting loudly with Tommy.

"Hello," a (very) deep voice says, catching Ranboo's attention. "I'm Eret. I go by any pronouns."

"Uh, Ranboo. I go by he/him."

"Cool," Eret smiles and squeezes past Ranboo into the house as well.

The only person left is a woman who smiles kindly at him. "I'm Niki," she says. "Nice to meet you."

"Uh, likewise."

Phil squeezes Ranboo's shoulder as everyone moves deeper into the house, Eret setting down a bag of ingredients that Ranboo had somehow missed when they first walked in. Tommy and Tubbo had disappeared somewhere, probably to the backyard or Tommy's room, and nearly everyone else had retreated to their original spots. Ranboo felt very... out of place.

Everyone was clearly close friends; Phil, Niki, and Eret were all in the kitchen, laughing and chatting about things Ranboo didn't have a clue about, and Tommy had disappeared off with Tubbo. He lingered in the small limbo area between the kitchen and the living room much longer than he would like, the need to hide in his room steadily creeping up his legs.

It was in moments like these that Ranboo wished he still had a phone. That would make things a lot easier. He could just be like Techno, playing some stupid puzzle game while still being included in the moment, but... Ranboo glanced around anxiously. He picked at the skin around his fingers, retreating to the furthest seat by the window in the living room. He watched the backyard until everyone was done in the kitchen, calling all the kids for dinner.

It was fine; it honestly didn't bother Raboo that much; these people were clearly friends and hadn't caught up with each other in a while. He just... didn't know where to put himself in the situation.

Ranboo waited until everyone else was seated to sit down at the table. He had hoped he could be sandwiched between people he  knew  but ended up sitting on the edge between Eret and Phil. Everyone served themselves food, and Ranboo hesitated before taking a relatively small portion. He didn't want to get nervous and feel sick. That would ruin the whole night.

"So, if it's not too personal to ask, how long have you been staying here?" Eret asked, snapping Ranboo out of his thoughts.

He nervously glanced to Phil. He hadn't been keeping track. Well, he had, but no one was supposed to know that, so instead, he looked to Phil for help.

"Uhh, I'd say about four months?" Phil says, and Eret gave a cheerful "oh" in return.

"Have you been enjoying your stay?" Niki asked. Ranboo knows they're trying to be polite, he  knows , but he doesn't like talking about his foster care. It always gets to someone asking, " so how'd you end up here anyway? " and he'd either have to dance around the question or ruin the mood.

"Yeah, yeah... it's been good." Ranboo idly rolls his food around his fork, hoping and praying they would drop the topic soon.

Phil was really regretting not giving everyone a rundown for the evening. He was sure Ranboo wouldn't want private information like his parent's death being shared to complete strangers, but it might've saved them from  this  situation. He could practically see Ranboo's need to hide away in his room, and he starts to worry that maybe having guests over was too much too soon. He had just been so distracted talking to all the kids he hadn't been able to see since taking Ranboo in. He should've checked his priorities, found a better time, should've told Ranboo more-

"Hey, Ranboo?" Tubbo asked.

Phil and Ranboo's attention both flitted over to him, and Phil hopes he isn't about to say something stupid.

"I brought my Nintendo Switch; you wanna play smash with me and Tommy after dinner?"

Ranboo blinked, taking a second to process the situation and the tight grip he didn't know he had on his fork loosened. "Sure, yeah."

"Cool." Tubbo smiled, and it was like the situation was set back to zero.

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. Ranboo let himself hang back, preferring to simply watch and listen to the conversations go by. Eret talked about the five-inch heels they had recently impulse bought, Niki laughed about using Eret as a model to try some makeup, and Tubbo complained quite adamantly about  several  games, one of which being Breath Of the Wild. Ranboo let himself melt into the moment, then be whisked away by Tubbo and Tommy when dinner was over.

Phil assigned himself dishes duty, letting the kids have their fun. He was arm-deep in hot, bubbly water when Eret and Niki approached him, speaking quietly. Ah, serious matter.

"Thank you for letting us come over; we know things must be fairly stressful for you," Niki starts, folding his hands in front of her. "It's quite different, not coming over all the time! Tubbo was starting to get lonely."

"It's no worries," Phil chuckles. "I know with your dad out all the time, things must be rough on you as well."

"Yeah..." Eret continues, rubbing the back of their neck. "We wanted to ask... did we overstep any boundaries? By being here, by... asking questions? If the house is still fragile, we-"

"No, no," Phil assures, pulling his hands out of the skin and drying them quickly. "Ranboo has... a lot of sensitive things to do with foster care. I mean, they all do, but it's fresh. I don't think he'd appreciate me talking about it, but... he's not a kid that was ever supposed to end up here, is all I'll say."

Eret and Niki nod. Technically, no kid is supposed to end up like Wilbur, like Tommy or Techno, but what Phil meant was that... he had a family. A good one who took care of him. And  something  happened.

"Ah... I understand," Niki says solemnly, bowing her head a little. "I hope we didn't make him too uncomfortable."

"Thankfully, Tubbo swooped in and saved us all," Eret laughed, and their laugh is contagious and quickly spread to Phil, then Niki.

"Don't worry," Phil sighs. "He'll bounce back soon. We're making a ton of progress! He's coming around a  lot  faster than Techno. We see him like three times a week for meals."

Niki cheers softly, giving a little applause.

"He'll bounce back from this, for sure." Phil glances up the stairs, and he hears Wilbur and Tommy's overlapping screams. "Next time, you should come with some old sweets from the bakery you work at, Niki. You say they're stale, but I can't fucking tell the difference, and I'm sure they won't either."

Niki laughs but agrees.

Eventually, Eret has to haul Tubbo out of Tommy's room because he's hidden under Tommy's bed  again  and carry him over their shoulder down to the door. Tubbo puts up half-hearted protests, begging to stay just  one more hour  when it's already nearing midnight. Ranboo waves goodbye as Wilbur and Tommy bicker about why Tommy can't choose the characters Wilbur chooses in the living room.

Phil joins his side, giving a small wave of his own before turning his attention to Ranboo.

"Hey, mate. Did you have fun?"

Ranboo takes a moment to think, a little too long for Phil's liking, but he can't swell of that.

"Yeah, I did," Ranboo says. "At first, I didn't really know how I fit into all of...  that , but... Tubbos nice. And he's good at carrying a conversation, which is good because I don't have to."

"Would you be aginst having them over again soon?" Phil hopes, truly, deeply hopes this is something Ranboo is willing to speak his mind about. Much to his satisfaction, it is.

"Not for a while," Ranboo says, rubbing at his face. "That was... a lot. But eventually."

Phil nods. In a week or two, when Ranboo is comfortable, Niki shows up with a basket of pastries. Just as he thought, Phil can barely tell the difference, and neither can his kids.

Chapter Text

-Ranboo Forgets- (minor panic attack)

Ranboo sat at his desk, tapping his pencil against the paper. Where was he...? Wait. No. What was he...? What was he doing? He can't remember. Ranboo looks at his paper, hoping it would be any sort of help, but the words on it mean nothing to him. Nothing more than a jumbled mess that gives Ranboo a headache.

Ranboo groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and falling back in his chair. He hates when this happens. His memory, for lack of a better word, is garbage. His therapist says it's probably a result of his trauma presenting itself through depression and anxiety, but Ranboo is pretty sure he's just dumb.

"C'mon," he says to himself, harsher than intended. "Think.  Think . Remember. Why can't you remember anything?"

...Nothing. Ranboo groans.

Ranboo forgets things. A lot. It's one of the few things that he won't mention to his family. Or at least, tries to skirt around as much as possible. He doesn't know  why ; he just... he doesn't like forgetting. But sometimes he'll forget to tell Phil his prescriptions need to be filled or that his homework is due at midnight, or that he has to be somewhere with Tommy at 3, and he has to face his reality.

It's frustrating. It makes Ranboo want to tear his hair out. It's even worse when the people get upset about him forgetting.

"I reminded you like, ten times!" Tommy cries.

"That was this morning!" Ranboo says, slightly raising his voice.  Only to be heard,  he tells himself.

"Whatever! This was important! You should've fuking remembered!"

"I'm  sorry !" Ranboo snaps. "I'm sorry, I can't remember whatever you guys tell me! I got busy, okay!? Sorry I got caught up with something else!" Ranboo yells. "Are you happy!?"

Tommy stops, looking almost like a deer caught in headlights. He looks away, pressing his thumb to his nose and sniffs. "Sure," he says and leaves.

Ranboo hates it when he fights with his brothers.

The next time something like that happened, it was with Wilbur. He was talking about someone, someone he was going to do something with. He sounded really excited, and it pained Ranboo to ask:

"Who?"

Wilbur paused, looking to Ranboo. A hesitant smile played on his lips. "Schlatt? My friend? I-I told you about him like two days ago? We had this long conversation about it?"

It hurt Ranboo even more, to say, "Sorry, I don't remember."

Wilbur deflated a little, and Ranboo  hated  it. It was becoming more of a struggle to get a genuine smile out of Wilbur recently, and Ranboo despises the fact that he's the reason they lost it today. He should've, he should've  remembered . This was important. These were important things. He should've written them down in his journal or put something on his phone, but he just  forgot .

Next, it was forgetting that he borrowed Wilbur's guitar pick. He had to buy a new one. Then he lost the vinyl Phil gave him for his birthday. He had cried for an hour before asking Phil if he had seen it, and Phil had reminded him it was moved to the bookshelf downstairs. Perscriptions, nearly showing up late to therapy, needing to ask Phil  something . Ask him what? Ranboo forgot. He borrowed a few of Techno's hair ties and forgot to tell him. Techno had to go to a tournament with his hair down. It got caught in the velcro.

Ranboo had had a rough day. School was... a mess, as it always was. All Ranboo wanted to do was get all of his homework done in an hour, so he doesn't have to think about it anymore, and go to sleep. And he did do that, sort of. His homework ended up taking three and a half hours, much longer and more taxing than he had hoped, and then he promptly passed out in bed. He didn't even get a chance to change out of his clothes, which he would hate when he finally woke up.

The next morning, Techno was a little standoffish. Normally, Ranboo would've brushed it off as a rough night, but it was only towards  him . He was fine with Wilbur, responded to Tommy's questions, helped make breakfast with Phil. Which meant  he  did something. Techno tried not to show it, but Ranboo still caught the way he stiffened a little and avoided looking at Ranboo for too long. He wracked his brain, trying to think about  anything  he could've done to upset Techno until he noticed that Techno's hair was newly dyed back to his classic bright pink. Oh, god. He  missed it .

Ranboo slams his head down on the counter, tears welling up in his eyes. He missed it! Every five weeks, on the dot, he and Techno get their hair re-dyed. Appointments aren't cheap, and rescheduling is even more expensive, so they  always  have to be on time. Despite the money, Techno had told Ranboo that him being there helped him feel more relaxed and comfortable. People touching his face always stressed him out since Phil wasn't there to distract him. It was a tradition of theirs. Something only the two of them got to do. Ane he  missed  it.

Techno had never been one to express his problems, but Ranboo wished he has said  something . Anything. Woken him up and asked if he was ready to go. He would've been tired, but at least he would've been  there !

"You alright, Ranboo?" Phil asked. Ranboo hated how concerned he sounded.

"I  missed  it," Ranboo says, and his voice breaks in the middle of his statement.

Techno stiffens in the corner of Ranboo's eyes. He knows automatically what Ranbee was talking about. "Look, it really isn't that big of a deal; I can drive you-"

"No! That's not it!" Ranboo cried, slapping his hands to his face. God, he was crying? Over  this ? "I  forgot ! I forget everything; I can't remember anything! I hate it because I get upset, and then you guys get upset that I forgot, and then we fight-"

Tears cut Ranboo off, and he can't help but curl in on himself. He misses the worried glance everyone shares before Phil is moving towards the newest addition to the family. He places his hands on Ranboo's shoulders gently, coaxing the tension out of them.

"Ranboo, mate? How long has something like this been bothering you?"

"My memories been getting worse since my parents died," Ranboo confesses, and he tries, and fails, to swallow down more tears. "Which is dumb, right? I should-I should remember all these important things you guys are telling me, but-"

"Hey, it's okay," Phil says. "Really. Like Techno says, it's not a big deal, alright? This is something we can find solutions for, okay?"

Ranboo nods but doesn't take his hand away. Nervously, Techno pulls on the bracelet he made for Ranboo, taking his brother's hand in his own. Ranboo's pointer finger shakily taps Techno's wrist three times, and everyone lets out a small breath.

"Okay, mate," Phil says. "Let's get you back to bed, or at least resting until you feel a little less overwhelmed."

Ranboo nods, slowly taking his other hand away from his face. He lets Phil pull him off his stool, guiding him up the stairs with a hand on the small of his back. He hears Phil ask Wilbur to grab his vinyl and Tommy to put his food away, but he doesn't really process it. He's tucked back into bed, all the lights shut off and the curtains drawn. Wilbur passes the vinyl off to Techno, who gets to work setting up the record player.

"Techno?"

"Hmm?"

"I... I really am sorry I forgot about our appointment."

Techno lets out a fond sight. "Like I said, Ranboo. We can book another one. I can drive you out to cover your nasty roots, alright? We can stop for food, too. My treat."

Ranboo lets out a tired, wobbly "yay," raising his hands to his ceiling in celebration. Techno chuckles and swats at his hands, smacking them down onto the bed. Ranboo sticks his tongue out, which Techno childishly mirrors until they both burst out laughing.

"Rest well, Ranboo," Techno chuckles, making his way to the door.

"Bye, Techno," Ranboo calls, waving lazily.

"Bye." Techno closes the door behind him.

-Friendship Bracelets? Family Bracelets?-

Ranboo has seen Techno work with string... a lot. At first, he didn't look like the kind of guy that would be into spending hours upon hours weaving string together. As Ranboo got to know him, however, that initial impression changed. A lot.

He had a massive stash of string in his room; Ranboo knew that. He'd seen it a few times when he had to call Techno to dinner. Wilbur had told him that Techno used to have little tools that he would use, but somewhere along the line, Techno decided it was inefficient and started using only his fingers. But Ranboo had never seen what Techno makes (he had suspicions about the bracelet Tommy wore, though. He bit a kid when they tried to take it). Well, at least for a while.

On the morning of his adoption, Ranboo woke up to a woven bracelet next to him on his pillow. He had automatically known who it was from, despite there being no note, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat. Instead, giddy excitement filled him once he noticed it was the perfect size to fit around his hand but stay on his wrist. The string was an elegant combination of reds, greens, purles, and blacks with a little light grey thrown in for contrast. The yarn was expertly woven, and Ranboo couldn't feel anything out of place when he ran his thumb along the string.

He slipped it on, got dressed, and headed downstairs. Nobody said anything about the bracelet, but Techno did glance at him anxiously until he saw it.

The bracelet was a comforting weight against his skin for the whole day. Not yet familiar, but Ranboo couldn't wait until he barely noticed it there. Until it had become such a natural part of him that his arm felt empty without it there.

After that, Ranboo never took it off. The colors never really  faded , per se, but the yarn did get dirty. Over time it darkened the colors and took away the elegance it was designed with. Ranboo felt terrible, he  loved  the bracelet he was gifted, but it had lost all of the love  Techno  had put into it. That turned out to be not a problem; however, because the next day, Techno gifted everyone a freshly made version of their bracelets. He then politely asked Ranboo for his original.

Ranboo was able to get a glance at everyone else's bracelets during the process, too. Wilbur's was a mix of earthy tones; browns, dark maroon reds, and purples. A bright, sparkly golded thread stood out the most amongst the darker colors. Phil's was made up mostly of different shades of green and creamy-white with a little red sprinkled in. Ranboo had already seen Tommy's plenty of times, he wore it on his wrist just like Ranboo, but the reds, whites, purples, and greens look so much more vibrant with the new thread.

Ranboo doesn't catch where Wilbur puts his bracelet, or Phil, but their old bracelets look just as dirty as his. He knows they wear them constantly, at least. They're all just a bunch of softies, Ranboo figures, quietly fawning over the gifts Techno gives them. Techno pretends not to care much either, but the amount of work he puts into remaking the bracelets so everyone can fresh ones sells him out pretty fast.

Ranboo doesn't see  Techno's  bracelet for  months . For the longest time, he had wondered if Techno even had one. But he does.

They were back at the pool. Wilbur and Tommy's bracelets were set in the (huge) pile of stuff they had going, and Phil's was danging on his wrist as he read. Techno had quietly moved over to Ranboo, clutching something in his hands.

"I have to go manage Wilbur and Tommy," he says. "They're going to start picking fights with twelve-year-olds, and I actually  like  coming here, so I can't let them get us banned. Watch this for me?"

Techno dropped his bracelet into Ranboo's hand, and his brain short-circuited.

"Y-yeah, of course," Ranboo says, and then Techno is off, jumping into the pool and tackling Wilbur.

Ranboo lets himself be amused by the panicked screeching for a few minutes before turning his attention to Techno's bracelet. It was handed off so casually, Ranboo could hardly believe it. Brights blues, pinks, whites, and reds sit in the palm of Ranboo's hand, entrusted to his care while Techno is off in the water. It's... a bit of an honor, really.

Ranboo notices Phil staring at him, happily holding the bracelet up to flaunt the responsibility he's been given. Phil squints then breaks out into a grin, and Ranboo can hear his laugh from across the pool. Phil puts a thumbs up in the air, and Ranboo laughs too. What a strange thing to celebrate.

Ranboo looks to the pool. He sees Techno aggressively dragging Wilbur under the water while Tommy swims away in fear. It makes him chuckle as he slips Techno's bracelet onto his wrist, right next to his. Ranboo and decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

-Only Can Assume- (implied/referenced: child neglect/abuse and underage drinking)

There are several things Ranboo can only assume about his brothers. For one, alcohol is never stored in the house, and Wilbur tends to avoid any wine guests bring over like the plague. Two, the house rarely runs out of food, and they've only ever been low a few times for the year Ranboo had been there. Especially specific snacks. They're bought every shopping trip, no matter how much they have at home, that Ranboo catches Tommy and Wilbur eating them almost constantly. They have a tapping system, too, which means  someone  occasionally goes nonverbal.

Birth families are never mentioned, outside of Ranboo's, and holidays are a little glossed over. Birthdays are a time for the future, not the past. Tommy jokes about committing crimes, and Phil looks a little stressed. Techno wakes up screaming sometimes.

It's the little things. Ranboo can only assume. That's alright; he's got things he won't ever share too. All he does is offer them a shoulder to lean on, a distraction, lets them talk about what they need. He'll sit and do adult coloring books with Techno all day, let Wilbur rant about his music, and follow Tommy out to play in the backyard. He'll go shopping with Phil, and everyone keeps the house quiet when he's working.

Ranboo never presses. He trusts that he'll be told what he needs to know, either by Phil or the person himself. Don't joke about these things, don't touch Techno when he's focused, accept when Tommy quietly asks to play Smash Bros, go with Wilbur to buy new guitar strings. Ranboo's happy he can help, honestly. It makes him feel closer to his brothers. To his dad. They've all got something going on, and Ranboo knows they'll be there for him when he needs it.

Occasionally, after something big, Phil will tell Ranboo he's proud of him for stepping up so fast. It's hard for many people to learn how their family works, and Ranboo slotted himself in like a missing puzzle piece. He makes everything  better . Work more. That makes Ranboo happy.

He tags along with Wilbur to parties, sometimes. Once, he had to step up when Wilbur's friends,  new  friends, couldn't have known him for more than two months, tried to pressure Wilbur into drinking. Ranboo told them drinking makes him uncomfortable, and Wilbur quickly jumped on that statement. They relent, smacking Wilbur on the back, saying something along the lines of "little brothers, right?" and left. Wilbur sags, thanks Ranboo, and calls Phil afterward. They get Wendy's on the way home. Wilbur is horrified when Ranboo steals some of his fries, but the mood is light again.

Ranboo has his things, and they got theirs. Techno twists his rings around when he gets anxious, and Tommy deflects with misplaced aggression. Techno taps on Ranboo's wrist, and he understands. Phil is called. The situation is dealt with.

Ranboo doesn't need to  know  to know. It makes him cherish Wilbur's bright smiles and his music a little more. It makes him agree to stupid bets Tommy offers him, pleasantly surprised if he wins and willingly resigns himself to his fate if he loses. He reads over Techno's essays, lets him ramble about whatever he finds interesting that week, and chimes in the other occasional question. Techno talks for another hour, and Ranboo doesn't understand a word of it. The antarctic is very cool, though.

Nights everyone spends on the family are spent telling dumb jokes that make Phil wheeze, and everyone is disgusted by the videos Wilbur casts to the TV (some of them are really funny, though). It's good. It's not always comfortable, but it's not like anything has been that way before. It's better this way, Ranboo thinks. It makes it easier to mind the most important moments and make sure he remembers them.

-Favorites-

Ranboo never really thought about his favorite things all that much. His favorite color remained the same, royal blue, but things like his favorite smells, his favorite foods... they all went away with the fire. Finding the same kind of candle his mother used to put all over the house didn't feel the same anymore. He stared at it for a long time, the smells reminding him of a life he could no longer live. He put it back on the shelf. It wasn't his favorite anymore.

Ranboo's favorite shirt changed to one Phil had gotten him. His favorite food was burnt away, his dad's own recipe, which he never got to memorize. One night Phil had made something that tasted a lot like it, though. And he cried. It wasn't his favorite anymore.

Instead, it was replaced by a messy concoction of potatoes and burgers and carrots wrapped in tinfoil and cooked over the grill. Tommy would always use two patties and way too much salt, Techno goes ham on the potatoes, and Wilbur piles his carrots high. Phil gets a lot of everything. It's messy, and the tinfoil is hard to peel away, but it's his favorite now.

Things that reminded Ranboo of his old family, of his mom and dad, became something of a distant memory to Ranboo. He wrote about them, talked about how much he missed the times when they made him happy, but... his new favorites make him happy too.

He picks up new games, new shirts, new candy and sodas, and people. He picks up a cat and convinces (begs) Phil to let him keep her ("Phil,  please , she looks just like me!").

"So what are you naming her?" Techno asked.

"Enderchest."

"Pff, that's a dumb name. Enderchest? Why?"

Ranboo runs his fingers along Enderchest's spine, smiling when she begins to purr. "Well, you know, you put all your important things in an ender chest, right? And, and when I look at her, she reminds me of all of you guys, and that really important. So she's like... my memory ender chest."

Techno sags from his place against Ranboo's wall. His arms drop to his sides from where he had been crossed, and he chuckles warmly. "You were supposed to give a dumb answer."

"Oh, uh, Minecraft, go brrr."

Techno laughs. "That works."

Enderchest is his favorite.

Wilbur gives Ranboo his new favorite blanket. Tommy gave him a rock once, which he ended up cherishing. He picks up his favorite phrases from Techno, and Phil gets him a new journal when he fills his old one.

Ranboo's favorites change. He holds onto his old ones as a memory but moves forward with the ones that make him happy. He sleeps with his blanket, listens to his music, and accidentally says things in sync with Techno. Tommy laughs, and so does Wilbur and Phil as Techno gives him a half-hearted glare. Enderchest sleeps on Ranboo's lap, making him no longer the newest member of the family, and he smiles.