Archive of Our Own

Ranboo had lived for a very long time. Too long. Even that was an understatement. He had lived for a while because he was cautious. Ranboo didn’t join nations, he never got into arguments or upset anyone, he wore armour as much as he could, and most of all, he didn’t get close to anyone. His mentor had taught him that long ago.

If you don’t let yourself get close to people, you won’t get hurt. Don’t let anyone get to you, and you won’t have to pay the price later.

As time went on, Ranboo began to think his mentor was being hypocritical.

Philza, the Angel of Death, who swore to not get too close to mortals, had three mortal sons.

But Ranboo saw the way Philza spoke about them in his letters. It was clear Phil loved them, but still refused to get attached. Ranboo didn’t understand why.

After an alarming letter that called for Ranboo’s aid and spoke of explosions and death, however, he started to realize why.

After stumbling upon the forest where L’manberg lay, Ranboo realized why Phil didn’t want him getting too attached to people.

He met Phil’s sons. The last two living ones.

He met Phil’s second son, the President of L’manberg, and knew exactly why.

Ranboo had lived for a very long time. Tubbo had not.

Ranboo remembered his laugh, because for a while it was his own.

Ranboo remembered his ring, because he had carved it himself.

Ranboo had always told himself not to get attached. That’s what Phil had taught him. Don’t get too attached to someone who won’t last forever, you’ll just end up getting hurt in the end. Ranboo took this thread of advice and sewed it’s golden hairs into his lifestyle. He thought it would be easy.

But then he met Tubbo.

The third of Phil’s sons, yet the second oldest. Phil had found Tubbo like he had found Ranboo years before. When Ranboo first met Tubbo, he was the president. The one Ranboo noticed everyone seemed to treat unfairly, even though he was supposed to be one of the most powerful people on the server. He worked closely with the young President from the start of his time in office, and Ranboo began to notice things. He watched Tubbo’s eyes turn cold over time. Watched the way he let others push him around, the way he thought of things with his head, rather than his heart. He noticed as Tubbo shut everyone out, and sank lower and lower into this state of his.

But after L’manburg, Ranboo noticed Tubbo’s smile. He began to notice the way his eyes lit up when he talked of something that he was passionate about. He began to notice the way Tubbo moved his bangs across his forehead in an attempt to see clearly. He began to notice the faint freckles that decorated Tubbo’s nose and cheeks that you wouldn’t see unless you stared long enough. Ranboo began to notice the tapping in his heart when he spoke to Tubbo.

At first, it was for taxes. Eret had decided that they wanted to tax their people and any one that lived on his land, which included Ranboo, so Tubbo brought up the idea of marriage.

It was said as a joke, just something in passing, but then they actually thought about it. Tubbo, for the record, was extremely poor. Ranboo was not. So it was technically a win for Tubbo as well, at least that's what he had said.

That’s how Ranboo had found himself on one knee, ripping out the old thread of Phil’s words, and replacing it with a new thread, a new thread that told him he could have one attachment.

That’s how Ranboo began to ignore Phil’s past warnings, and fell in love with this ex-president-war criminal.

That’s how Ranboo realized he wasn’t just in it for the taxes anymore.

And one day, Ranboo realized Tubbo too, wasn’t just in it for the money anymore.

Tubbo and Ranboo were walking home one evening from doing “check ups”. It was late so they weren’t speaking much, just walking in comfortable silence. Tubbo was staring up at the stars as they walked, Ranboo was staring at Tubbo.

“What?” Tubbo asked him, his eyes not moving from the big open sky.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” Ranboo peeled his eyes away from him.

Tubbo grabbed onto his sleeve, “No, what is it? Do I have something on my face? You gotta tell me if I do, that’d be embarrassing”.

“No, no, you’re fine. I was just…” was just what? Staring at his best friend? Best friends don’t normally do that, right? Sure, they were married, but not like that. What was Ranboo supposed to say?

He had been quiet for too long. Ranboo sighed, giving up. “You’re pretty. When you’re uh,” He swallowed and stared at his shoes as he walked. “When you’re looking at the stars. You’re pretty.”

He didn’t look at Tubbo, too scared of his reaction. Then Ranboo noticed he had stopped hearing footsteps next to him. He stopped walking and turned back.

Tubbo was staring at him.

He had paused along the path, the wind blowing in his hair and the fur on his coat. Tubbo just stared at him blankly. Ranboo stared back.

Then, Tubbo’s brow furrowed slightly and he was walking up to Ranboo’s side again.

Ranboo couldn’t see his face as Tubbo held his hand out to him. Ranboo stared at it for a moment, before slipping his fingers through the others. He felt Tubbo’s cold ring against his fingers. Tubbo kept his head down as they began to walk down the path again, hand in hand. It was almost like he was ashamed to want to hold Ranboo’s hand.

Then Ranboo’s mind began to race.

What did this mean? Ranboo just told him he was pretty, and now Tubbo was holding his hand. They hadn’t done anything like this before. He hoped he hadn’t made Tubbo feel like he needed to hold his hand. Oh god, did Tubbo feel like that? Ranboo hadn’t intended for this. He shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hold Tubbo’s hand, of course he did. He just didn’t want it to seem like he was pressuring him. Was he pressuring him? Was he making Tubbo uncomfortable?

“Calm down”, Tubbo muttered. “Your hand is all sweaty and shit.” Even though he said that, Tubbo didn’t let go of his hand.

“Sorry”, Ranboo whispered.

They were silent again as they walked along the paths. Then Tubbo spoke.

“You think I’m pretty when I look at the stars?” :

Ranboo felt butterflies swarming in his stomach. Like they were trying to eat him alive. “Mhm”.

“Is it only when I’m looking at the stars?”.

“Oh. Well um no. It’s just ‘cause you were-and uh. No, you’re pretty all the time, just-uh you had been...um-”, Tubbo cut him off with a laugh. God, that laugh.

“You’re so easy to fluster, ya’know that?”, Tubbo looked up at him with those big mossy eyes, smiling.

Ranboo smiled too, and sighed. “I know”.

The sky started to turn a pretty magenta colour as the stars disappeared to make way for the sun.

“I think you’re pretty too”.

After that they became more affectionate with each other. Though Tubbo was not one for physical touch, he still managed to show Ranboo he cared about him, in a different way than before, in his own little ways.

It started when they got home that starry night. As Ranboo was hanging his cloak up, he felt something slam into his side.

“Ack!”, he fell back slightly, then noticed the head of messy brown hair against him. Tubbo’s horns were poking into Ranboo’s side uncomfortably.

“Uh, Tubbo?” Ranboo placed his hands to rest on Tubbo’s head, and Tubbo immediately straightened up and walked off.

At first, Ranboo had just ignored the incident. But then it began to happen more often. Tubbo would just randomly walk up to Ranboo and headbutt him. Ranboo didn’t exactly mind it either. He learned that Tubbo would do it especially when Ranboo did something nice for him, like complimenting him or gifting him flowers.

And, of course, as Tubbo had mentioned before, he made Ranboo a mug filled with orange juice. When Ranboo got back to Tubbo’s small cottage after mining, there was always a sleepy Tubbo waiting for him at the kitchen table, his comm that he had just used to talk to Ranboo for hours on end with in one hand, and orange juice in a mug for Ranboo in the other.

Sleepy Tubbo was someone Ranboo had begun to get used to. At first, it was so that he could talk to Ranboo while he was mining late in the night. Then, Tubbo began to stay up cause he wanted to be awake when Ranboo got home, instead of drifting off on the call. But then, Tubbo was staying up later than Ranboo. He told him it was because he just couldn’t fall asleep at a normal time anymore. But Ranboo noticed that even then, while he couldn’t seem to get a blink of sleep, Tubbo was exhausted.

Ranboo saw the dark eyebags that had returned from Tubbo’s former presidency. He saw how tired his husband was during the day, and how he was always awake during the night. Ranboo wasn’t one to try and manage someone else's sleep schedule, but at this point it was concerning.

As it turned out, the fatigue was the least of their problems.

Ranboo noticed it not long after the Nukes started up again. Tubbo had become obsessed with perfecting them. They had been his coping method, his way of protection. Tubbo would stay up into the late hours of the night attempting to find the perfect formula for the bombs, insisting he needed more than just the two he had left. And ones that caused more damage. Ranboo would often fall asleep to the sound of pages turning and pen against paper and the feeling of his husband's hand in his hair, as Tubbo attempted to take notes with only one hand.

One morning, while Ranboo was making breakfast downstairs and Tubbo was in the attic tending to Michael, Ranboo stumbled across Tubbo’s notes. Scribbled parchment, nuclear science books, diagrams. Ranboo flipped through the rough pages, admiring his husband's work.

That’s when he noticed it.

Little splotches of blood staining the paper. As Ranboo turned the pages to the more recent notes, the splotches became more noticeable.

“Tubbo”, the boy practically jumped at Ranboo’s tone as he climbed down the ladder. He turned to his husband, “What’s up, Bossman?”.

Ranboo placed the notebook on the table so Tubbo could see the pages. When he looked down at them, it didn’t seem like he could look back up.

“What is this?”, Ranboo asked coldly. He knew how he sounded, how he probably looked as well, but he was upset. Ranboo knew they kept secrets from each other, him most of all, he didn’t think Tubbo’s would be as detrimental. He didn’t think it would be anything life threatening. But there it was, bright red and staring at the both of them, mocking them. As if to say, “You thought you were untouchable?”.

Tubbo was silent.

“Tubbo”, Ranboo said again.

Tubbo didn’t look up, he didn’t speak. He just stared at the parchment, frozen.
“Are you okay?”, and that’s when Ranboo’s voice broke, and all the anxiety he had been keeping in for those few minutes spilled out of him like a dam bursting. Overflowing from it’s bottle and making Ranboo’s stomach hurt with nerves.

But Tubbo just laughed. That stupid laugh.

“Boo, I’m fine! You don’t need to worry about me so much. It’s just a little blood. A little blood never killed anybody”, Tubbo smiled up at him and went to the door.

Before he could open it and step out, Ranboo spoke.

“What’s it from?”.

Tubbo’s hand stalled on the doorknob.

“Who’s it from?”, Ranboo asked, knowing his anxiety could be heard in his voice.

Tubbo didn’t move. And with one simple sentence, all of Ranboo’s fears became a reality.

“It’s not that bad”.

Ionizing radiation exposure. Or, what can lead to cancer cells being formed in the body.

As Tubbo explained it, it started when he began to research ways to make the nukes more powerful and how to make a bigger quantity of them. While Ranboo was out, Tubbo had been in the lab. He hadn’t informed Jack about starting the research back up so Tubbo had to take on both parts of the experiments. Which had ended up being extremely dangerous. He got careless, as Tubbo had called it, and stopped taking all the proper precautions. Enough exposure, and the radiation was in his system.

At first, it was just tiredness. Being horribly tired but not able to get any proper rest. This led to Tubbo doing even more nuclear work to keep himself busy during the night.

Then it was the headaches and the red spots on his skin.

Tubbo had always gotten migraines, it had happened all his life. But after he started the nuclear testing, it got to the point where he couldn't do anything but lay in bed and pray for the pain to go away.

Then the blood started to show up.

It came in coughing fits, Tubbo described. He would begin to violently cough at times, and the irony taste of blood would fill his mouth, not a lot, but enough for him to notice it and spit it up.

And he hadn’t thought to tell Ranboo when that first happened.

Ranboo hadn’t even noticed any of it.

“What do we do?”

Ranboo sat in Phil’s house one afternoon. He wanted Tubbo to be here as well, but he had insisted on staying home with Michael. Ranboo knew he just wanted to avoid the reality of it all.

Phil took a sip of his tea. “How long did he say this had been going on for?”.

“A month or so”, Ranboo fidgeted with his own cup.

Ranboo had gone to Phil because, not only was he Ranboo’s “mentor” of sorts, but he was also Tubbo’s guardian. Phil had raised him, even if they weren’t blood.

He heard Phil sigh and stand. Ranboo looked up. Phil was reaching his hand down to Ranboo. Ranboo took it and stood up, now towering over Phil.

Then, almost as if Phil could sense the boy’s worries, he wrapped him into a hug.

Ranboo felt Phil’s arms around him and the smell of pine leaves filling his lungs.

“How long?”, Ranboo asked in a whisper, burying his face in Phil’s shoulder, dreading the answer.

“With his symptoms, a few months at best”, Phil responded in a hushed tone.

Ranboo’s stomach turned. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Time was rushing by him. Hadn’t he just told Tubbo how he thought he was pretty? Hadn’t he just proposed? Hadn’t they just found Michael? Hadn’t they just saved him and Tommy? Hadn’t he just promised Tubbo would be his vice president?

No, everything was crumbling when it had just begun. The wonderful life Ranboo had just found for himself was slowly being ripped from his hands. Tubbo was slowly being ripped from his hands.

Ranboo let out a choking noise and gripped Phil closer.

“I know…”, Phil said quietly as he brushed a hand through the boy’s hair. He held his breath before continuing. “Maybe if we had the treatment or the doctors he’d have more time but…”

Ranboo didn’t want to hear anymore. He thought he was indestructible. He had made sure of it. The reason he had lasted so long was because he was careful. He didn’t get attached, he always made sure to have the best materials, the best armour. Ranboo always had golden apples and sought out totems at any chance he could.

And always, always, he made sure Tubbo had the same. The one person who wasn’t as indestructible as him that he had let himself fall for. But this wasn’t something that a totem or good armour could save you from. No matter how many diamonds or health potions Ranboo had, it wouldn’t save Tubbo. He couldn’t save Tubbo.

Ranboo felt hopeless. There was nothing he could do.

Ranboo watched Tubbo from afar as they walked through the old abandoned halls of Pogtopia. Tubbo grazed his hands along the dusty buttons on the walls.

“I never thought I’d miss this place…”, Tubbo commented in a hushed tone.

Tubbo insisted that he was well enough to continue their check ups throughout the Factions. Ranboo hadn’t said no because well, how could he? It was something that Tubbo had done for as long as he knew him and had probably done before then as well.

“Oh wow!”, Tubbo brought Ranboo out of his head as he turned into one of the many hole-in-the-wall rooms. Ranboo followed him in.

“I thought we lost these!” Tubbo was sitting on the floor in front of a big crate filled with old VHS tapes.

“We have VHS tapes around here?”, Ranboo asked as he sat down next to Tubbo.

Tubbo opened one of the old cases. “Yeah, I think they were either Wilburs or Erets but Tommy, Fundy and I used to watch them for hours on end back in L’manburg. If I remember correctly we have at least three South Park seasons in here!”. Tubbo dug back into the crate. “I thought they were destroyed by Dream the first time L’manburg was blown up but apparently they weren’t and someone brought them down here”.

Ranboo picked up a dusty tape labeled Hamilton, “Too bad there’s nothing to watch these on”.

Tubbo perked up. “Wait hold on..”

He stood up and walked out to a different room. Ranboo picked up the crate and followed.

“Surely not…”, Tubbo whispered as he looked around a cluttered side room. He pulled a few boxes out of the way to reveal an old VCR television. Tubbo scoffed in disbelief, “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

Ranboo sat the crate down as Tubbo moved to turn the TV on. “Bo, it’s not plugged in”, Ranboo chuckled.

“Oh right. Well, let’s take it back to Snowchester! I gotta show Michael the classics”.

“Like what..?”, Ranboo asked concerningly.

“South park”, Tubbo grinned at him.

Ranboo started to collect the cords for the TV, “He’s three years old. South park isn’t exactly for toddlers.”

“Oh please. I started watching it when i was around his age”.

“Yeah, and look how you turned out”.

After Two trips from Pogtopia back to Snowchester, Ranboo managed to get all the VHS tapes and the TV into Tubbo’s house. He refused to let Tubbo carry any of it, Ranboo wouldn’t have his ill husband carrying anything more than his own body weight. Less than that even.

Ranboo hooked the TV into the outlet, only for the TV to just flicker slightly before shutting off again.

“Weird, I thought I did that right”, Ranboo muttered.

“Is it broken?”, Tubbo asked from his spot on the couch. Michael was sitting in his lap as the two of them looked through the VHS tapes.

“Probably. But I bet I can fix it”, Ranboo slumped back onto the couch next to them. “Later though”.

Tubbo picked up a case that had been sitting near the bottom of the crate. “What's...La La Land?” he asked, inspecting the cover.

“Hm? Oh, it’s a musical. It’s pretty good”, Ranboo replied as he reached to grab a tape that Michael had been chewing on.

“That makes sense. Wilbur did love his musicals'', Tubbo flipped the case over to look at the back. “Oh! I know one of these songs”. He moved to lean on Ranboo. “City of Stars...yeah, Wilbur taught me this on the ukulele, though I would have rather learned it on piano ''.

“You learned one of the songs before actually watching it? You’re missing out man”, Ranboo commented.

Tubbo nodded in response, too fixated on the case of the VHS. “Okay, I promise that as soon as I fix this TV up, this will be the first thing we watch '', Ranboo said.

Tubbo looked up at him, “Yeah?”.

“Yeah”.

Tubbo looked back down at the case. “You know the song right?”.

“Hmm. Yeah, I do”.

Tubbo smiled up at him, “You should sing it for me”.

Ranboo frowned. “No.”

“But Ranboo~”

“You know I don’t do that”.

“But Ranboo I’m dyinggg. Sing for me, it’s my final request”, Tubbo giggled and leaned all his weight on Ranboo.

“Not on my watch you’re not, now stop asking”, Ranboo rolled his eyes at his husbands dramatics.

“Aw. Sadge”, Tubbo grumbled.

Then Michael kicked one of the tapes off the couch. “Okay lil guy. I think it’s time for bed”, Ranboo picked Michael up by his underarms. He glanced back at Tubbo before going up the ladder. He was back to staring at the tape cover, depicting a couple dancing under the stars.

When Ranboo finished putting Michael to bed, he went downstairs but Tubbo was nowhere to be found.

Ranboo stepped outside to see if his husband had wandered off, only to be met with the soft faint sound of someone strumming the ukulele. Ranboo followed the sound to the top of Tubbo’s cottage, where Tubbo sat on the roof playing the same seven cords. He was surprised he hadn’t heard it, or the sound of Tubbo climbing up while he was tucking Michael in. He was also surprised Tubbo had managed to climb up here without any help.

Ranboo climbed up to sit next to Tubbo as he struggled to remember the hand placements for all of the cords.

“I...I can’t remember the tune..”, Tubbo whispered, clearly frustrated. His hands were slightly shaking from the cold as he plucked the strings.

Instead of making some joke about remembering, Ranboo swallowed his pride and started to hum what he could recall of the song.

Tubbo’s fingers stalled for a moment, before following the sound of Ranboo’s hums.

The sound danced from the aluminium strings and into the wind as Tubbo played. The soft plucking getting lost in the night sky. Ranboo looked up and watched as the stars seemed to flicker along with the tune. Tubbo joined in Ranboo’s humming.

As Ranboo looked up, he noticed the sky looked as though it had been painted with oil pastels. Blues and purples swarming together with flicks of white stars decorating the canvas. It almost felt like Tubbo’s playing had been the one to paint the sky. Each note splattering white paint onto the starry night sky.

Ranboo noticed how, whenever he messed up a part, Tubbo would go back to redo it, attempting to make sure every strum was played back perfectly until he got it right. He noticed how his hands danced along the strings, playing the tune. He noticed how Tubbo’s eyes concentrated on getting the placement just right. The soft sound of Tubbo singing what he could recall of the lyrics flowed through Ranboo’s brain. Tubbo’s voice overwhelmed his senses in a way he couldn’t describe.

While in the film, the song is played on piano, Ranboo would forever cherish City of Stars played on a ukulele.

This was the hard part.

And for some reason, Tubbo had made it ten times harder.

Ranboo leaned up against the wall near the cottage door. He was waiting for the moment Tubbo finally told Tommy. Tommy, Tubbo’s “brother” and best friend. Ranboo knew it had happened when Tommy started yelling.

Of course Tommy was upset. He had the right to be. Tubbo had waited over a month after he first started showing symptoms to tell Ranboo, and Tommy was only just hearing about it now.

After Tommy’s yelling eventually calmed down, Ranboo half expected him to storm out of the cabin. Of course, he didn’t. He was Tubbo’s best friend. He wouldn’t leave his side no matter what.

Ranboo opened the door to quietly step back in.

“I just don’t fuckin’ understand. Why? Why not tell me when it first started? Why go out of your way to not?”. Tommy motioned to Ranboo when he noticed him. “You didn’t even tell fucking Ranboo when it first started, did you?”.

Tubbo fidgeted with the mug in his hands. “Well, no...but to be fair, I wasn’t even sure it was...y’know...”, Tubbo couldn’t finish the sentence. Ranboo had noticed Tubbo would never straight out say what was wrong with him. Ranboo went to sit down on the couch beside them.

“Cancer”, Tommy stated. “Tubbo, you have cancer.”

Tommy basically spoke Ranboo’s thoughts.

“Why can’t you just say it, man? Why are you avoiding the obvious?!”, Tommy raised his voice even more. “We could’ve all figured this out sooner! Together! Shit, we could’ve found a doctor and-and we could’ve helped you, y’know, before it got worse!”, He stood up.

Tubbo didn’t look at Tommy.

“Why are you like this?! Why do you want to carry this all on your own?! Why can’t you just…”, Tommy’s eyes were getting glossy. He turned and wiped them with his sleeve, “Fuck”.

“You two are always so optimistic”, Tubbo finally said. “Always thinking things are going to get better. They’re not. I’m not. Even if I had told you guys in the beginning, there would have been nothing you could do”.

The three were silent. Ranboo gripped the couch cushions. Tubbo was right, in a way. Tommy and Ranboo had always been pretty optimistic about the way things would go. But now, even though Tubbo wasn’t in that bad of shape, there was nothing they could do. They didn’t have a doctor-well,they had Ponk, but no one actually knew if he had credentials, plus he let a president die of a heart attack-they didn’t have the treatment, there was basically nothing that could cure Tubbo.

And that was scary.

To Tommy and Ranboo, that was really scary.

“Well, fuck that. I’m gonna keep being optimistic, thank you very much”, Tommy spat. “You’re going to get better, bitch. Cancer doesn’t kill everyone. Plenty of people make it out. And look at you, you’re doing fine! So, in the end”, he wiped his face again and smiled down at Tubbo, “You’re gonna be fine”.

Ranboo nodded. Though in reality, it seemed like Tommy was reassuring himself more than he was Tubbo.

Tubbo smiled, “Alright, Bossman. I believe you”.

Tommy sat back down, “Good, cause i’m always right”.

They spent the rest of the evening goofing around until Tubbo got too tired and Tommy decided he was going to head out. Before he did, he pulled Ranboo aside.

“Is he actually doing okay?”, Tommy asked Ranboo quietly, while Tuboo went upstairs to say goodnight to Michael.

“He just gets tired every now and then, honestly he doesn’t seem horrible. Though the eye bags have definitely gotten worse”.

“What about the blood you mentioned?”.

Ranboo had talked to Tommy before he came by today. All he said was that Tubbo had been feeling a little ill and listed the symptoms. Tubbo had been the one to really tell him what was going on.

“Hasn’t happened since I first found out”. Ranboo bit the inside of his cheek. “Maybe..”, he thought about it. For a moment it didn’t seem too unrealistic. “Maybe you were right. Maybe Tubbo will get better”.

Tommy patted him on the back, “There you go. TommyInnit is always right”.

He stepped out the door and into the snowy town. Ranboo stared at the closed door. He took a shaky breath and turned back to the living room, facing the old broken down TV in the corner. Ranboo rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

Tommy was always very proud and sure of himself, but usually, he was wrong. Ranboo had just wished that maybe for once, Tommy would be right. After that night, things just went downhill.

It started when Ranboo woke up the next morning. He joined Tubbo in bed after working on the TV for an hour and fell asleep not soon after. He was awoken by the sounds of coughing.

Tubbo was leaned over the side of the bed having some sort of coughing fit. His shoulders trembled as he spat up blood with every wheeze.

“Tubbo?! Jesus, are you-is there something I can do?”, Ranboo immediately sat up and was at Tubbo’s side.

Tubbo shook his head weakly through the coughs. Ranboo rubbed circles onto his husbands shaking back.

Tears were starting to form in Tubbo’s eyes as he continued to cough, if it was from the coughing or the pain, Ranboo didn’t know.

He coughed once more, before keeling over from his place on the edge of the bed. Tubbo sat like that for a moment, taking in deep shaky breaths. Small droplets of blood accompanied with tear drops stained the hardwood floor.

Ranboo placed his forehead on Tubbo’s back and moved his hand to rest on his shoulder while he whispered into his shirt. “You’re okay. it’s okay”.

“Sorry-”, Tubbo took another deep breath. “Sorry for waking you”.

“Don’t apologize. Are you feeling better?”,Ranboo sat up to look at the boy. Tubbo’s dark brown bangs were flattened onto his forehead with sweat. Blood stained his lips and saliva dripped from his chin. His eyes were red and decorated with lovely dark eyebags. Ranboo noticed he was also paler than before.

Yet Tubbo smiled, “Never been better”.

Ranboo chuckled and pulled him into a hug, petting his hair. Tubbo let out a shaky sigh against him.

“Did you sleep?”

“Barely”.

Ranboo brought them down to lay on the mattress. He listened to Tubbo breath in his arms as Tubbo quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the fit.

Ranboo hated seeing him like this. Tubbo had always been so strong, it hurt to see him so weak. He knew something like this would eventually happen. Even though he was being optimistic, deep down Ranboo knew Tubbo would eventually start to break. The clock was slowly but surely counting down and it was only a matter of time. Ranboo could see the toll this was starting to take on his husband, and this incident was the first of what Ranboo knew was going to be many.

Ranboo’s stomach turned. How much longer would it be be until they were torn from each other?

He held him closer and kissed his hair.

After that, the fits would come and go. Some of them weren’t that bad, others would come in waves and last for hours. They could never tell. Tubbo didn’t really leave Snowchester anymore. He took walks around the base but didn’t wear any armor. Ranboo would have used to get mad and tell him to put some on for his own protection, but Tubbo was too weak now to wear the bulky stuff. Tubbo had reduced his wardrobe down to sweaters, scarves, and sweatpants, with lots of layers.

Tubbo was also starting to lose weight. He wasn’t eating much because he couldn’t keep it down, another side effect that recently emerged. He looked like a shell of his former self.

As for Ranboo, he didn’t leave Snowchester much either, only going out of town to gather resources they ran out of, to check up on his pets in the arctic, or to speak to Phil.

Apparently word of Tubbo’s illness had gotten around, so people would come to visit him. Niki bringing cakes, Jack giving updates from around the server, Puffy and Foolish offering to run errands, Eret dropping off fancy imported tea. Even Sapnap had stopped by once, the two friends just sat and talked about the old days for hours. Tubbo seemed to like the company of the others.

And of course, Tommy was there. Though as Tubbo had begun to fade, Tommy seemed to stop by less and less.

Each visit, Ranboo let them have their time together. He didn’t want to seem like an overbearing husband that wanted to keep his partner all to himself. In the evenings he could spend all the time he wanted with Tubbo, just taking care of him. It mostly consisted of Tubbo sitting on the couch, sipping from a mug, while Ranboo worked on that old TV. He wasn’t making much progress, for the record. But he knew he’d eventually figure it out.

Ranboo banged his fist on the metal piece of junk. He wiped his brow and sighed, this thing was so frustrating.

“Hey, Ranboo '', Tubbo whispered behind him from the couch. He was snug up in blankets with a mug in hand. This particular day had been extremely cold, it snowed so much that Ranboo had been shoveling Tubbo’s porch for an hour.

“You look like you could use a nice mug of orange juice, bossman”. Tubbo smiled tirely.

“Should I go get one? Do you need a refill?”, Ranboo asked, looking towards the kitchen entrance.

Tubbo shook his head and stood up. “I’m gonna get it for you. I can do it all by myself”, he said, and shuffled into the kitchen.

Ranboo smiled and turned back to the TV. If Tubbo wanted to prove to Ranboo, and probably himself, that he could do things without anyone’s help, who was Ranboo to stop him?

He switched two of the cables around and plugged it back into the wall, then pressed the ‘on’ button. The TV flickered to life, but displayed nothing but a blue screen. Ranboo turned it off, and then on again. It still just showed a blue screen. It had been worth a shot at least.

He heard shuffling from the doorway as Tubbo came back in. A cat mug filled to the brim with orange juice was placed on the carpet next to him. He looked up to Tubbo, who took a long sip of his own orange juice before saying, “You get the cat mug”. He returned back to his mountain of blankets on the couch. “Because you’re a cat boy”, Tubbo said with a shit-eating grin.

Ranboo let out a long sigh. “I hate you”.

“No you don’t”.

Ranboo took a sip of the tangy sweet juice before saying, “I think I’m done breaking the TV even more”. Ranboo sat down on the couch next to Tubbo, who was staring off into space. “What are you thinking about?”, he asked, snuggling up to his husband.

“Mmm. Nothing important”.

“C’mon. What’s up?”.

Tubbo sighed. “I was just...so many people have visited me and it makes me really happy to see them all and-and talk about the early days but…”, his words drifted off, dangling in the air. Tubbo sipped from his mug. “Y’know who hasn’t seen me yet?”, he asked.

“Who?”

“Phil”.

Oh. This.

Both Tubbo and Phil barely ever opened up to people, Ranboo is lucky enough to be one of the few they do talk to. Ranboo vaguely knows about the history those two had together. As everyone around knows, Wilbur was Phil’s only biological son. However, both Tommy and Tubbo were raised by Phil. And if you pay attention, you can clearly see that Tubbo was raised by Phil.
Ranboo had lived with both of them, so he noticed it the most. They both shut their emotions off under pressure, and joke during wrong times. Traits Tubbo clearly seemed to have picked up from the only father-figure in his life. Another thing they both share, not talking about the past the two had had. Tubbo’s childhood seemed like a closed book when it wasn’t being read aloud by Tommy or Wilbur.

“He has to know, right? I mean he has eyes everywhere, so surely”, Tubbo continued. “I’d like to think he cares but...but maybe that’s just me trying to be hopeful. Trying to, i dont know, put him up to this fake standard of what I think a-”, he cut himself off, swallowing his words. “Of what I think he should be like”.

Tubbo fidgeted with the mug in his hands. “When I was younger, I used to get head pains a lot. Still do, obviously. When I went to tell Phil about it, I would see that he was busy cleaning or-or reading to Tommy or working with Techno, and so I wouldn’t tell him. But I think he knew. He always does”.

“I don’t know,” Tubbo said, “We haven’t spoken much since L’manberg.” Tubbo’s eyes unfocused as he lost himself in thought. “Since he helped destroy L’manberg”. Ranboo bit the inside of his cheek. Tubbo never spoke about Doomsday.

“Maybe that’s why he hasn’t visited. Maybe he’s still disappointed in me for being a shit president. For even being a president in the first place”.

Tubbo’s brow furrowed, “Maybe he’s listening right now.”

Ranboo watched Tubbo’s eyes study the floor, before he turned to Ranboo. “Do you think he’ll visit?”.

For once, Ranboo knew the answer without any doubt in his mind.

“Yeah, I think he will”.

Tubbo’s hollow eyes brightened. “Good”, he said, and leaned on Ranboo.

Ranboo rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. As it turned out, fixing a TV can be extremely tiring.

Ranboo woke up to someone shaking him. He opened his eyes to Tubbo’s smile.

“Wha- Tubbo?” Ranboo sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Tubbo started to pull him off the couch. Well try to, at least.
“Come on, you have to see this”, Tubbo said as Ranboo stood up.

“Uh okay. What is it?”, He asked, feeling his ears pop from a held-in yawn. Tubbo opened the kitchen door, light leaking in. “It’s in here”.

They stepped into the small kitchen, Ranboo held his breath as he saw it. Through the kitchen window, you could see that the sky was alive with beautiful greens and purples. A wispy tale shining through the night sky, making the stars glow like planets. The amazing display reflected soft colours onto the kitchen tiles and all around the walls and counters.

“Wow…”, Ranboo whispered.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Tubbo asked as they watched from the window. Ranboo hummed in response.

Ranboo was practically hypnotized by the sky, until Tubbo pulled on his shirt.

“Dance with me”.

“What?”

Tubbo took Ranboo’s hand and placed it on his shoulder, he put his own hand on Ranboo’s waist and interlocked their fingers on their remaining hands. Tubbo smiled up at him.

“Dance with me”, he repeated.

Ranboo chuckled. “We both don’t know how to”.

Tubbo led them to step backwards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a great dancer”, he said.

Ranboo sighed and followed in step with Tubbo, swaying left and right until it kind of looked like dancing.

“See? We’re great dancers”, Tubbo snickered.

“I swear, you’re going to step on my foot”. As soon as he said that, Ranboo felt Tubbo press a foot on top of his. “Ah! Tubbo!” Ranboo's brow furrowed, but he couldn’t be mad.

“Sorry, you put the idea in my head”.

Ranboo rolled his eyes, “It feels weird not having any music. Maybe we should get Tommy to play piano for us”. Tubbo laughed, and Ranboo felt his heart clench.

“We’ll hire him for the wedding ceremony”, Tubbo said.

Ranboo smiled and hummed. He didn’t want to be anywhere else right then. At that moment, Ranboo knew that whatever had led up to this hadn’t been a mistake. Even if this would only get himself hurt, Ranboo was willing to take the risk. Having Tubbo was worth the risk.

Ranboo rocked back and forth, and for once it wasn’t because he was nervous. Turns out, theres this thing called a rocking chair thats perfect for people that fidget. The old wooden chair creaked under Ranboo’s weight, but it supported him because that’s what it was supposed to do. Ranboo smiled and closed his eyes.

“You really like that thing, don’t you, mate”, Philza said from the kitchen.

“Mhm”, Ranboo responded and brought his warm cup of tea up to his lips. Why was Phil’s house always so calming?

Like house, like owner, he guessed.

Ranboo heard footsteps coming into the living room. He opened his eyes to see Phil leaning on the door frame. His emerald robes flowed onto the floor and he looked like a real god.

“You seem stressed out. Or, calming down from being stressed out”.

Ranboo pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s probably true”.

Phil sat down with a sigh in the big leather chair across from him. “Talk to me”.

Ranboo traced the rim of the mug with his thumb. “Tubbo’s getting worse. He coughs up blood, he’s losing weight, he doesn’t sleep” He looked down at the floor “I’m trying to be optimistic but….”.

Phil nodded. “You’re worried about him. You’re worried you might lose him”.

Ranboo looked up at him, “This isn't just about how I feel though. He’s hurting, he literally can’t sleep because of the pain!” Ranboo stood up and began to walk around the room. “He looks sickly! And- and all of this was because he couldn’t just talk to me! And I didn't even notice it all!” Ranboo gestured around with his free hand as he paced around the room. “I-I should have noticed it sooner! Then we would have been able to find help from far away, and he could’ve actually gotten treatment, and-and he wouldn’t be sick and in pain and-” then Phil’s hands are on Ranboo’s shoulders and Ranboos stopped in his place.

“Mate, calm down.”

Ranboo swallowed. He nodded and looked at the ground behind Phil.

“You did the best you could. You’re doing the best you can”. Phil said in a low and soothing voice. “You noticed it when you did, which means he gets longer and isn’t wearing himself out. You’re taking care of Tubbo. That’s what he needs”.

Ranboo nodded again.

“You can’t change the past so there’s no point in trying to”.

“...Right”.

Phil smiled and went to sit back down in his chair. He gestured at the rocking chair, “Sit back down”.

Ranboo nodded and did as he said.

He took a sip of his tea. It was starting to get cold.

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“What was Tubbo like when he was a kid?”

Phil blinked at him for a moment, then looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall.

“He was…..curious, to say the least”. Phil scratched his chin. “He was really into chess. Would challenge the other boys all the time. Tommy never wanted to, too busy eating mud, I suppose”, he laughed.

“Mmm. Whats the story of how you adopted Tubbo?” Ranboo asked.

“Ahh. That’s a funny one. I technically never officially adopted Tubbo, or Tommy for that matter. I just took them in and then they started calling me dad, or Dadza.” A warm smile grew on Phil’s face. “We had been walking down some abandoned road, looking for a nearby town to stay in. Wilbur must have been twelve or eleven, and Tommy four. Will and Tommy had run ahead, and when I eventually caught up to them, they had found a soggy old cardboard box.” Phil’s eyes were clouded with nostalgia. “Then this little goat kid poked his head out of the box. He was dirty and sitting in old hospital blankets, and he would not let go of this damn bee plushie”.

“Tommy and Wilbur insisted we take him in, and Tubbo had been with us ever since”, Phil’s smile faded as he seemed to have realized how sensitive he was being. “Then, y’know, Will and the boys left home and everything went downhill from there”.

Ranboo smiled. He had finally gotten something out of his mentor. “So, Tubbo, was quite literally, found on the side of the road”.

Phil laughed, “Yep. And then there was Tommy, who we found stealing from our garbage like a fucking raccoon. A much less wholesome story”.

Ranboo had known Philza for a very long time. Ranboo would say, Phil wasn’t the best father, but he was a good father for the kids he had. It wasn’t the life the Angel of Death had probably expected, but it was certainly the one he needed.

Ranboo got home that night to find Tubbo and Michael passed out on the couch. Tubbo with one arm draped over Michael in a protective way and the other holding his comm, and Michael sleeping soundly on Tubbo's chest. They both looked so peaceful.

At that moment, Ranboo knew that this was the life he needed as well.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…”, Ranboo said as he watched Tubbo climb out of the waterway.
“Ranboo, I feel fine today. Plus, we haven’t done this in so long”, Tubbo reassured. This morning when they woke up, Tubbo had insisted on doing a check up. Ranboo, for one, was not sure about it. Anxiety ate away at him the entire morning as they were getting ready to leave.

But Ranboo couldn’t say no to Tubbo, so here they were.

“Let’s check on the hotel first! We still need to finish it”, Tubbo exclaimed as he walked ahead of Ranboo. He was dressed in an old knitted brown sweater and baggy black sweatpants. Tubbo had taken a bath this morning, so his hair was all sorts of floofy. But he was still sickly looking, with his pale skin and dark eyebags.

“Yeah, no way you’re working in your condition”, Ranboo went to walk beside him.

Tubbo huffed. “It does need finishing though”, he mumbled. “And we can finish it when you’re better”, Ranboo replied.

Tubbo didn’t respond.

When you’re better. It was more like, If you get better. It was a huge ‘if’, and they both knew it.

“Hey, you wanna grief McPuffy’s?”, Ranboo asked as they approached the Prime Path.

“Fuck yes”.

When they were done, both of them were covered in bright coloured paint. They had decided to graffiti all the outside walls of the restaurant, writing things like “Burger king foot lettuce is better” and drawing male genitalia. Yellows, purples, blues, and greens decorated the entire outside of the building.

Tubbo giggled as he dunked his palm into the yellow paint bucket. “I gotta leave my mark. But not on McPuffy’s, we’ve completely ruined that '', he looked around. Finding no better place, Tubbo placed a yellow handprint on the wood of the prime path.

“Perfect”, Tubbo whispered, standing up. Ranboo reached for a random bucket and dipped his own palm into the closest one he could find, the violet bucket. He squatted down on the prime path and set a much bigger hand print next to Tubbo’s.

“Yeah, I’d say we did a good job”. Ranboo suddenly became aware of how much time they had spent painting the shop. The warm colours of the nearing sunset swallowed their bodies.

“I think we should head back soon”, Ranboo said, wiping his hands on a rag they had found. He supposed he could’ve just wiped it on his clothes, the tapered dress pants and suit vest were far beyond repair without soap and water, and god knows where his suit jacket had gone.

“Aww, I don’t want to go home yet”, Tubbo said. He had begun to walk down the prime path. “You know, the hill right before L’manburg has this great view of the sunset”.

“Tubbo…”

“I’ll race you!”, Tubbo smiled back at Ranboo, the sun hitting his hair in a way that made it look like someone had sewn strands of gold into it, before booking it down the prime path, something that Tommy would have scolded him for. Actually, Tommy would have scolded them for graffiting the path in the first place.

“Tubbo! Wait-you shouldn’t overwork yourself!”, Ranboo called after him but he was already out of ear-shot. Ranboo sighed and began running to catch up with him.

When he finally did, the sun was already almost gone. Tubbo stood atop the grassy hill. Ranboo took his place at his side.

“Look”, Tubbo whispered as he caught his breath. Sure enough, the sun had painted the sky line beautiful pinks and oranges. But like always, Ranboo wasn’t going to waste his time looking at the sky. He shifted his gaze to Tubbo, who’s hollow dark eyes now looked golden and alive with the sunlight. When just a few days before, everything about Tubbo’s appearance had been grey and gloomy, everything about Tubbo now was gold. Ranboo wanted to stay in this moment and paint Tubbo with the pastels of the sunset.

“Quit lookin at me, big man, you’ll miss the best part”, Tubbo smirked at him.

“You are the best part”.

Tubbo scoffed, a mixture of embarrassed, annoyed, and flustered, and looked back at the sky. Ranboo did as he said however, and followed his gaze back to the sun. Ranboo took Tubbo’s hand in his, Ranboo’s fingers brushing against Tubbo’s ring. He watched as the sun was swallowed by the night sky, stars beginning to fade in as Ranboo looked along the skyline.

He let out a sigh, “Welp, we should get going now. I don’t want to get home with monster guts all over me.” Ranboo led them down the hill and back on to the prime path. Then, Tubbo’s hand slipped out of his. There was a large thump sound.

Ranboo turned back, “Tubbo-?”. He swallowed his words.

Tubbo was collapsed upon the wooden path, like a marionette cut from strings.

“Tubbo!” Ranboo panicked. Kneeling down, he checked Tubbo’s paulse. It was faint but still there. “Shoot, um-Tubbo, can you hear me?”, he asked in a wavering voice.

He got no response. With no other option, Ranboo hoisted Tubbo’s frail body onto his back, keeping Tubbo’s arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms beneath Tubbo’s knees to keep him from falling down.

As Ranboo ran down the prime path, the only thing he could think about was getting Tubbo to safety. He could hear the blood running through his ears as he quickened his pace.

If he could just get back to Snowchester, he could save Tubbo.

If he could just get home, Tubbo wouldn’t die

If he could just make it back, Tubbo would return to how he once was and he’d be fine.

And they’d all be fine.

And everything would be fine.

Ranboo mentally scolded himself for not taking them back right when they finished vandalizing McPuffy’s.

But then again, Tubbo looked so happy to be able to see the sunset from that hill…

But because of Ranboo’s carelessness, Tubbo might never be able to see it again.

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away tears.

The next morning, Ranboo woke up to fingers brushing through his hair. He looked over to see Tubbo, who gave him a weak smile.

“Good morning, my beloved”, Tubbo whispered in a raspy voice. Ranboo felt a pain in his chest.

“How are you?”, he asked.

Tubbo’s eyes slowly shut for a moment before he inhaled and opened them again. “I’m okay. Though I might have puked on the carpet in the middle of the night”.

Ranboo sat up and looked over Tubbo to the ground on his side. Sure enough, he had vomited. That explained the raspy voice. Ranboo crawled out of bed and stepped over to the bathroom to get a sponge.

“Sorry..”, he heard Tubbo whisper.

“Don’t apologize. You can’t control it.”

Ranboo scrubbed up the mess and wrung the sponge out before checking back in on Tubbo.

“Do you want breakfast in bed?”, he asked. Tubbo shook his head weakly.

“Can you...could you help me sit up?”, Tubbo asked, not looking at Ranboo.

Ranboo nodded and lifted Tuboo into a sitting position in the bed. Ranboo sat on the floor next to him, he was tall enough so he could rest his head in Tubbo’s lap. Tubbo ran his frail fingers through Ranboo’s hair. Tubbo felt warm compared to the coldness of the cottage. Ranboo noticed that piterpatter in his chest again.

“You’re purring”, Tubbo whispered.

“Am not”, Ranboo responded.

Tubbo lifted Ranboo’s face to look at him. He rubbed his thumb against Ranboo’s cheek.

Tubbo frowned. “You’ve been crying”.

Ranboo hadn’t even felt the sting last night that usually came with tears, probably had been too focused on Tubbo.

In this moment of vulnerability, part of Ranboo wanted to turn away and hide both his face and scars. But another part wanted to give into the touch. He listened to the latter.

Ranboo closed his eyes and rubbed against the touch, feeling a familiar vibration in his chest.

“Please don’t cry”, Tubbo said, his voice breaking as if he might.

Ranboo opened his eyes. Tubbo looked like he was holding back tears. “Don’t cry for me...please” he begged.

Ranboo moved close and quickly wrapped his arms around Tubbo, locking his small body in a hug. Ranboo petted his hair.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m okay”, Ranboo felt Tubbo shake against him.

A sharp stinging feeling seeped into Ranboo’s shoulder. He just ignored it, and held Tubbo tighter.

As the days passed, it was obvious that Tubbo was only getting worse. He barely had the strength to sit up on his own, let alone leave the bed. He didn’t eat much, couldn’t hold a conversation for long, and was just getting thinner and thinner.

Ranboo was always by his side. Bringing him water and food, which Tubbo either barely touched or just threw up again, reading stories to him, and adjusting his pillows.

They had Michael go to Phil’s house during the day. It was by Tubbo’s request. He didn’t want Michael to see him in his state. Of course, Michael still saw Tubbo, he just wasn’t around him constantly. Tommy had also joined in as a select Michael babysitter. He would pick Michael up from Tubbo’s sometimes and take him to stay at Phil’s and then would return him back to Tubbo’s just as the sun was setting.

And he checked in on Tubbo everytime. And each time he did, he said fewer words to Ranboo as he left. Until one day he pulled Ranboo aside as he was leaving. Tommy had just spoken to Tubbo, Ranboo had been in the kitchen getting Michael’s dinner ready. He didn’t want to disturb the two brothers. Tommy had stepped out of the bedroom and immediately went to the study around the corner, shutting the door. He was in there for a few minutes, Ranboo had counted, before he quietly opened the door and asked Ranboo to talk.

“Ranboo, there’s something I’m gonna need to tell you”, Tommy said, not facing Ranboo as he put his scarf back on at the doorway.

“What...did something happen?”, Ranboo was starting to get concerned by the way he was acting.

“No. Well. Kind of? It’s just…”, Tommy sighed. He turned back to look at Ranboo. Tommy’s eye’s were puffy and red.

“This is my last visit”.

Surely, Ranboo hadn’t heard him right.

“Sorry?”

“This is my last visit with Tubbo”, Tommy looked away. It was almost as if he was ashamed to say it.

“What? Why?”, Ranboo asked.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair and took a sharp inhale. “I can't see him like that, man! It fucking hurts!”, Tommy’s voice broke with the words. “I’ve been watching him fade away for the past weeks and I just”, he looked around, as if he was looking for the words to say. “He is skin and fucking bones. He looks like a ghost. I don’t want to sit by and watch as he…”, Tommy couldn’t finish the sentence.

“What I want to say, Ranboo” He put a hand to his chest, “I've seen Tubbo through everything. Everything. And when I wasn’t there, you were.” Tommy put his hands in his pockets, like he had nothing else to do with them. “So. Be there now. Be there for him”. Or leave while you still can, Ranboo’s head added on.

Ranboo stared at Tommy, astonished. Ranboo felt a feeling in his chest, a feeling like when Tommy had first told Ranboo he could marry Tubbo. Except this time, it was deluded and painful. Because that conversation, that last talk with Tubbo, was quite possibly going to be Tommy’s last. And Tommy knew that.

“I promise I will”, Ranboo said.

Tommy sniffed and nodded, opening the door.

“And Ranboo?” His voice was low. Like a whisper almost.

“Yes?”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

“Take care”

The door shut behind him, leaving Ranboo in the empty living room.

Later that night, Ranboo joined Tubbo in bed.

As he was crawling in, he heard Tubbo’s faint voice.

“Boo?”

“Yeah?”

Tubbo’s small hand grabbed on to Ranboo’s blouse. “Could you…..could you get my ukulele?”.

Ranboo nodded and got back up to grab the instrument from its place on the wall.

He placed it in Tubbo’s lap.

Tubbo carefully picked up the ukulele, and placed his fingers on the strings and began to pluck a familiar tune. Ranboo snuggled in closer against Tubbo.

Tubbo could only play the same few notes, not attempting to try the rest and possibly butcher it. That was fine by Ranboo, however. He was just happy to see his husband doing something he loved. Any song, no matter how butchered, was music to Ranboo’s ears when it was played by Tubbo.

That night, Ranboo fell asleep to the soft plucking of City of Stars.

The next few days, Ranboo was the one that took Michael back and forth from Phil’s house. He didn’t mind the travel as much as he didn’t want to leave Tubbo alone. But Tubbo insisted it was fine. One early morning, Ranboo got up, checked on Tubbo and checked on Michael, like he did every morning. He went downstairs and began to make tea and toast with jam, carrying Michael in one arm while doing so. That’s when he heard a knock on the door.

Ranboo opened the door with a creak, half expecting to see Tommy, but instead was greeted by a warm smile and a bundle of green cloaks.

“Good morning, Ranboo”, Philza said.

“Phil!” Ranboo struggled to keep the door open with a zombie piglin child in one hand and tea in the other. Phil stepped in and took Michael from his arms. Michael squealed and wrapped his tiny arms around Phils neck.

“What are you doing here? I’m not late to drop Michael off, am I?” Ranboo asked as he led them into the kitchen. “You can put him down in his high chair.”

Michael slipped from Phil’s grasp and into the wooden chair. “Are you making toast?”, Phil asked, nodding to the toaster that happened to have puffs of dark smoke coming out of it.

“Ah! Yes, yes, I am!” Ranboo quickly picked the pieces up and set them on a plate in an effort to not burn his hands. “And it’s going great. I am great at making simple breakfast food”.

Phil laughed and went over to begin helping Ranboo spread jam on the three pieces of toast.

“But, why are you here?” Ranboo looked at Phil through his peripheral vision. Phil didn’t answer straight away, as if hoping Ranboo would move on.

“I uh, I thought I’d pick Michael up instead of waiting for you. Y’know, not have you travel all that way” Phil dipped the butter knife into the gooey red jam. “And...y’know, I haven’t talked to Tubbo in a while. So…”

Ranboo smiled to himself. Tubbo was going to be very happy. This was something both him and Phil needed.

“Well, I can do breakfast. You head on over there now, I’m sure he’d like to see you”, Ranboo said, nudging Phil away from the counter. Phil chuckled.

As Phil was leaving the kitchen, Ranboo thought for a moment. “Uh, Phil?”.

Phil looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not very good at holding conversation at the moment. So be patient with him”.

Phil nodded and went towards the bedroom.

Of course, Ranboo knew Phil would be patient. He always is.

Ranboo stayed in the kitchen while the two talked. He didn’t want to interrupt this conversation, specifically this one. Who knows what Phil and Tubbo spoke about that day. It was a long conversation. Ranboo fed Michael and kept him entertained for around two hours. He assumed they talked about the past, what happened, what went wrong, what didn’t. Ranboo was curious, but he didn’t ask afterwards. He watched as Phil walked out of the bedroom in silence, and took Michael from him. Watched as he nodded goodbye for the day. Phil left Ranboo with a simple sentence. “He’ll be in good hands''.

Ranboo didn’t know if Phil was talking about Michael or Tubbo.

Ranboo crept into the bedroom later on. Tubbo was asleep. He crawled in besides him, and listened to him breath. Whatever they talked about must have taken a lot out of him. Whatever it was, Ranboo didn’t need to know. That was a conversation that had been waiting eons to be spoken through two pairs of reluctant lips, a conversation that would never reach the threads of history. And it wasn’t meant to. That was a conversation that was meant to stay between a father and son.

The days turned gray. The cold of Snowchester bled into the cracks of the cottage, staining the walls and family portraits with a dark atmosphere. The cottage itself was quiet. No more visitors came, all too scared of what they might find when visited. Ranboo couldn’t blame them. He too was scared.

All of Snowchester carried the collective knowledge of what was to come, and the Beloved family carried that ten fold.

Ranboo would fear waking up in the morning and not hearing breathing next to him, so each morning he would slip his hand around his husband's thin wrist and feel the sickly pulse that was there. Each morning was filled with panic and then relief.

Tubbo didn’t move much.

He didn’t eat, and barely drank.

He stared out the window mostly, whether it was foggy skies or starry nights.
He smiled when Ranboo came into the room, not having enough energy to greet him.

He didn’t laugh anymore, Ranboo missed that laugh. He missed the way that laugh would play his heart strings like a ukulele.

Of course, Tubbo still played with Ranboo’s heart strings. Ranboo knew Tubbo would do that to him till Ranboo’s heart was nothing but wires and bolts. And Ranboo would let him. He’d open his arms wide to let Tubbo drive a screwdriver straight into his chest.

And he knew Tubbo would do the same.

Everyone knew the time was coming soon. Well, almost everyone.

Instead of sending him to Phil’s, one day Tubbo asked for Michael to stay with him for the day. Michael seemed extremely excited to spend time with his dad that had been ill for so long, he thought this meant Tubbo was finally getting better. In reality though, it meant the exact opposite.

“Pie?” Michael asked as he sat on Tubbo’s lap in bed. Ranboo watched from the chair.

“Pie?” Tubbo asked in return, his voice sounded husk.

Michael nodded quickly and gestured with his arms in a circle. “Make pie?”.

Tubbo looked over at Ranboo with sorrowful eyes.

“Um, why don’t we save that for another day, Michael,” Ranboo said.

Michael quickly moved on from the pie, as toddlers do. He began to show off his new stuffed animals to Tubbo, who smiled and nodded along. Michael sat there and spoke to Tubbo for hours, sometimes getting up and running around the room, pointing at different objects. Ranboo brought him lunch, which Michael tried to share with Tubbo, but Tubbo had said that he had already eaten. Eventually, Michael started to get tired.

“...And when Dada’s better, we go see dolphins” Michael exclaimed through a yawn.

Tubbo nodded “Dolphins...yeah”.

“And big turtles”
Michael curled himself into a ball on Tubbo’s chest. Tubbo looked as though he was going to cry. But he held it in and smiled. “Michael….you’re going to be...be big n’ strong when you’re older....”. Michael nodded, “And you will be too”.

That response felt like a kick in the gut.

When Tubbo’s older he’ll be big and strong.

Tubbo wasn’t going to get older. He wasn’t even a full fledged adult yet, and he was already saying goodbye.

How were they supposed to tell Michael that Tubbo wasn’t going to make it past seventeen?

“Promise me….you’ll go see the dolphins…”

“I promise dada!” Michael yawned “We’ll see the dolphins, I promise”

Tubbo petted Michael's head as Michael fell to sleep. Tubbo himself looked like he was going to fall asleep.

“Do you want me to take him up so you can rest?”, Ranboo asked in a whisper.

Tubbo shook his head.

“Alright. Get some rest, I’ll be just in the other room if you need anything”.

Tubbo nodded as Ranboo opened the door.

He closed it gently, as not to disturb them. Ranboo found himself alone in the living room.

He took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. Placing his hands on either side of the sink, Ranboo stared at the faucet, watching the water drip and drip.

His throat felt sore. That familiar feeling of dread filled his stomach. He clutched the sides of the counter to hold himself steady.

Ranboo felt searing pain around his eyes and his tears followed the faucet’s lead.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

A few days later, they sent Michael to live with Phil permanently.

Tubbo didn’t move much. He stared out the window, slept, and leaned on Ranboo, which became the closest Tubbo could get to hugging. He didn’t talk, his voice was too tired from coughing to do so. He didn’t eat, and drank only when Ranboo made him.

Everytime Ranboo looked at him his heart ached.

Tubbo was just past Ranboo’s fingertips. Just past saving.

If he could grab Tubbo from the edge of this cliff and pull him back into his arms, Ranboo would.

But Tubbo was already falling.

Ranboo petted Tubbo’s head as they laid in the bed together. He watched as Tubbo’s eyelids fluttered while he slept.

Ranboo couldn’t help but wonder how long he would be able to do this for. How long until Tubbo’s eyelids stopped moving.

Ranboo swore to himself that he would stay by Tubbo’s side. Ranboo had sworn to Tommy as well, and gods know what Tommy would do to Ranboo if he ever failed to keep that promise.

There was no way Ranboo would ever leave Tubbo in this state. He couldn’t live with himself if he did. As much as it gnawed at his heart and his own health, Ranboo wouldn’t leave.
Tubbo pulled Ranboo out of his thoughts, as he always did.

Tubbo moved his head against Ranboo’s hand. Ranboo looked down at Tubbos' own grey hand that rested against his side, it was pointing towards the wall. Ranboo followed Tubbo’s gaze to the wall where a ukulele rested on its stand.

“You want the ukulele?”, Ranboo asked softly. Tubbo nodded slowly.

Ranboo stood and grabbed it from it’s resting place on the wall, setting it in Tubbo’s lap.

Tubbo weakly moved his hands to their places on the instrument. He pressed his fingers onto the strings, only for his fingers to return to their limp state. Tubbo tried a few more times, unable to get his hands to work the way he wanted to, before Ranboo heard him choke out a sob.

“Ran...Ran....boo?”

“Yeah?”, Ranboo sat up so he could look at Tubbo better.

“I….I can’t do it”, Tubbo stared at the ukulele through glassy eyes. His frail grey hands rested against the carmel wood. “....Can’t...play..” Tubbo let out in a whisper before Ranboo quickly wrapped him into a hug. The ukulele fell against the hardwood floor with a clunk.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay”, Ranboo murmured into his ear. He knew it must hurt Tubbo to even speak. Ranboo rubbed his back. A stinging feeling burned into Ranboo’s chest and he took a sharp inhale. One that Tubbo definitely noticed.

“Sorry”, Tubbo whispered and tried to pull away so his tears didn’t hurt Ranboo anymore then they had already, but Ranboo just hugged him tighter.

“Don’t. It’s not that bad”

Tubbo leaned into the touch, but still angled his head in a way where it wouldn’t hurt him as much.

Ranboo ran a hand through Tubbo’s hair, an attempt to keep it from getting tangled while also comforting him.

“It’s okay, we’ll be okay”
Even as Ranboo said it, he knew it wasn’t true anymore. They both knew it.

Three days passed.

Ranboo remembered the third day so clearly.

It might be one of the few things Ranboo still remembers clearly.

He woke up while Tubbo was still asleep, and went to make tea. It had snowed the night before, Ranboo could tell by the frost still coating the kitchen windows. He filled two mugs with steaming hot lemon tea and headed back into the bedroom.

As soon as he did, Ranboo caught sight of how Tubbo looked.

His skin was ghostly pale and his eyes were bloodshot, though they seemed to smile as they looked up to Ranboo. Ranboo could hear Tubbo’s breathing as he approached and set the mugs on the bedside table. Tubbo was taking in long, shaky, deep breaths.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Ranboo asked, sitting beside Tubbo on the bed. Tubbo, without saying anything, took Ranboo’s large hand with both of his own small and shaky hands. Tubbo rubbed his thumbs against Ranboo’s palm, feeling his boney dorsal side, and tracing his fingers. Tubbo traced Ranboo’s hand like he was trying to burn the feeling of it into his brain. Tubbo brought Ranboo’s hand up to his lips and kissed his ring.

The entirety of what Tubbo was doing was something Ranboo had never seen before. Tubbo had never been so affectionate. Ranboo didn’t mind whether he was or wasn't, this was just different.

But it all made sense when Tubbo brought Ranboo’s hand down to feel his heartbeat.

Tubbo’s heartbeat was slow. Ranboo could barely feel it patter against Tubbo’s chest.

Ranboo held his breath.

“..Ranboo…”

His brow furrowed as Tubbo gave him a soft smile.
Holding back tears, Ranboo shook his head slowly.

“No…”

“Ranboo”

“No”

“Ranboo-”

“No,no, not yet..”

Was he swimming in denial or was it just blind optimism, Ranboo didn’t know. He just knew he couldn’t lose Tubbo.

Tubbo held his hand tighter, “Ranboo, it hurts….it hurts so much”. Tubbo’s voice broke as he spoke. “You…”

He moved his hand to cup Ranboo’s cheek. “….you’ll be alright”

Ranboo took his hand from Tubbo’s chest and threaded his fingers between Tubbos free hand.

He took a deep breath. “Please” Ranboo said in a low voice “Please don’t go...” A tear trailed down Tubbo’s cheek. “..Please just...” He looked at Tubbo’s glassy ashen eyes, his eyes resembled a fire gone out centuries ago.

There was no point in begging. Ranboo wrapped his arms around Tubbo and buried his face in his shoulder. He felt Tubbo’s chest rise and fall against his own. The embrace was slightly awkward due to Tubbo not being able to sit up, but it was a tenderness that Ranboo cherished.

“I’m right here” Tubbo whispered. “I’ll be right here”

All these weeks had been leading up to this. Ranboo had known it was coming, yet he dreaded it’s arrival. It was slightly bittersweet however. This was the end of Tubbo’s pain. No more restless nights. No more waking up to vomit. No more coughing up blood to the point of not being able to speak. No more struggling to survive. No more fighting. No more wars. Tubbo would finally have peace.

And Ranboo would be left all alone again.

He gripped Tubbo tighter, feeling as Tubbo was slowly being torn from him. All the months of staying by each other's sides, all the laughter and the words they shared that no one else's ears would ever hear, the promises, the lies, and the beautiful moments that they both had cherished, it would all be over. Slowed to a halt by time, death’s hands tied. How much time had been wasted?

Ranboo internally cursed himself. There’s no point worrying about the past.

Tubbo let out a shaky breath that brushed by Ranboo’s ear. Ranboo moved so he could look at Tubbo, holding the back of his head up.

And Tubbo was smiling.

He smiled like the day Ranboo had proposed. He smiled like when Snowchester claimed independence. He smiled like the day they found Michael. He smiled like when they danced in the kitchen. He smiled like when they saw the sunset atop Tubbo’s favorite hill.

And Ranboo smiled back.

And through all the lies and all the betrayal, Ranboo could proudly say that these words were the truest things he would ever say.

“I love you”

Tubbo’s eyes brightened for a moment when Ranboo said that, before they drained of any light that had ever been there before. Ranboo hugged Tubbo close as his body went limp in Ranboo’s arms. Ranboo couldn’t feel Tubbo’s breath on his ear anymore, couldn’t feel his chest rise and fall against his own, couldn’t feel Tubbo hug him back.

And the realization that he never would again, that he was gone, hit Ranboo like a truck.

He muffled his gasp against Tubbo’s limp shoulder. Ranboo struggled to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, and though he could feel the steam sizzling off his cheeks, Ranboo couldn’t feel any pain. He choked on sobs and gripped Tubbo’s shirt, trying to hold on to him for as long as possible. Ranboo’s voice broke “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he repeated over and over again through tears.
Ranboo hadn’t saved him. He promised he’d protect Tubbo through everything yet here he was, clutching desperately to the body of the boy Ranboo had sworn to take care of.

He let Tubbo down.

He let Tommy down.

He let everyone down. They all expected Ranboo to be able to protect Tubbo, and he had let them all down.

Ranboo had let himself down.

Then Ranboo felt a hand on his shoulder. His instincts kicked in, and Ranboo immediately held Tubbo away from the person, shielding him with his body. Ranboo glared over his shoulder through tears and steam.

Phil moved his hand back and looked at Ranboo apologetically.

Ranboo physically moved away from Phil. He couldn’t seem to think clearly, the only thoughts going through his head were “Keep Tubbo safe” and “Keep danger away”.

“Mate, I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s okay, look”, Phil put his hands up. “I don’t have any weapons”.

Ranboo held Tubbo’s body tighter to his chest.

“We’re not going to hurt him either”, Phil tried to reason.

The door swung open, revealing an uncomfortable Techno. His hair and clothes were ruffled, as if he had just woken up. Techno caught sight of Phil first, and then Ranboo, and then Tubbo. His eyes widened before he looked away.

Ranboo growled, his own eyes seeming to glow a vibrant purple.

“No sudden movements, don’t look him in the eyes” Phil whispered to Techno “He’s not gonna calm down if you do anything irrational”.

Techno scoffed, “I’m not gonna do anything irrational”.

Turning back towards Ranboo, Phil spoke in a calm voice, “We’re not here to hurt you two. Just...breathe”.
Ranboo looked around the room furiously. Was there some kind of way out? The door was blocked, he could go out the window. He could….

“Ranboo”

He turned back to Phil.

“Can you just...can you let Techno take Tubbo? He’ll be careful with him, I promise”.

Ranboo stared at Techno, holding tight onto Tubbo.

“I’ll be ‘gentle’ or whatever, just give me the body, Ranboo”, Techno stepped closer. Phil put his hand up to stop him. Techno sighed, “Ranboo...Tubbo will be okay”.

Ranboo looked from Techno to Phil and back to Techno, before he finally loosened his grip on Tubbo.

Techno reached out and scooped up Tubbo’s body. Ranboo watched in confliction as he carried him away, almost like he wanted to chase after them and take and hide Tubbo away from the world.

Phil took Ranboo’s hand. It startled Ranboo at first but Phil didn’t seem like a threat, so Ranboo let him. Phil began to rub circles on Ranboo’s palm with his thumb.

Eventually, Ranboo was able to blink away the hostility and return to normal.

“...Phil?”, he asked in a low voice. Phil looked up at him. “Welcome back”.

Ranboo looked around the room.

Oh.

He brought a hand up to his face and suddenly he was reminded of how much pain he was in.

His finger brushed against soft torn flesh.

“Ah-!”, Ranboo hissed and took his hand away from Phil, clutching onto his burning face.

“We’ll fix that up at home”, Phil assured.

Home.

Ranboo was home.

He was in Snowchester, Tubbo’s home.

Phil rubbed Ranboo’s back. Ranboo felt winded. He stood up and backed away from Phil. “I’m gonna get some air” Ranboo muttered, his eyes empty. Before Phil could reply, Ranboo was out of the room.

He passed by the kitchen, it smelled of tea and restless nights. It made Ranboo’s stomach turn. He walked through the living room, passing by the old TV that would never play another film. Ranboo didn’t think he’d ever have the motivation again to fix it.

He stepped out into the cold village, not thinking to grab his cloak. As he walked down the steps and down the snowy sidewalks, Ranboo noticed two figures standing in front of the cottage. He didn’t bother stopping, keeping his eyes to the ground as Puffy and Foolish watched him.

“Hey..” Puffy started. “We saw Techno, was that…?” She didn’t finish her question. She didn’t need to. He was sure they had heard Ranboo’s sobs earlier. Ranboo felt their eyes burn into his back as he walked away.

He just kept his head down. Ranboo didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t care frankly. All he wanted was to escape from this reality. This reality wasn’t what he had signed up for. Ranboo would give anything for a better one. A reality where Ranboo wasn’t a disappointment to the server and where Tubbo was alive and healthy.

Tubbo

Tubbo was dead.

He died in Ranboo’s arms.

He died smiling.

He died having never watched La La Land.

Ranboo smiled and chuckled to himself. That’s what Tubbo would be the most upset about. He’d curse and complain about never watching it. And Ranboo would tease him about having better priorities. And Tubbo would tease him back, and…

And Ranboo was crying again.

He looked up, realizing where he was.

You couldn’t see the skyline clearly. It was foggy and mist covered all around the grassy hill. A week or so ago, Tubbo had stood here hand in hand with Ranboo. Today Ranboo stood alone.

How lucky his past self had been, to be able to hold Tubbo’s hand. To be able to feel his warmth.

Back then, Ranboo was full of sunshine and the hope that Tubbo was getting better.

But now he was empty.

Ranboo watched as the fog circled around the grass below. He felt tears burn into his skin as they trickled down his face.

Tubbo wasn’t supposed to die so easily. He was supposed to go out big and courageous, like a dying star. Not quietly, and next to Ranboo no less.

“Just give him back..” Ranboo whispered. “Please”

Somewhere in the distance, a crow cawed.

“...Or take me to him..”

Ranboo clenched his fists as he cursed the sky. “Please! Just-” His voice broke. “You stupid gods! You didn’t have to kill him! So, Please! Please, just-” Ranboo gasped for air through his tears.

“Please”

The boy that had been smart enough to secure indestructibility, was now pleading on his hands and knees with death for the life of the boy victim to circumstance. Smart enough for immortality, foolish enough for love.

“Please”, Ranboo begged the sky. “Please, I just want to be with him”. The world was silent as he mourned. “Just take me…” he gripped the wet grass below him. “Take me”. He dug his finger into the grass, digging up soil. Ranboo’s tears joined the mist covering the hill. “Please-just…..” The boy’s voice hitched. “...Take me too...”

And somewhere in the universe, Death shook her head no.

Ranboo didn’t go back to Snowchester. He returned to his own home in the Arctic. Enderchest and the rest of his pets had been taken care of by Phil, and the inside of the house seemed fine. Dust covered the shelfs and books but besides that, it was alright.

Ranboo didn’t sleep. He didn’t even leave the front room. He just collapsed on the carpet near the doorway and laid there, staring into nothingness. Maybe out of exhaustion, maybe out of grief. Ranboo had no motivation to move. It felt like he had lost everything. Maybe in a sense he had. There was no reason anymore. He had worked so hard to not die, but now it didn’t seem all that bad. If not death, he would just wait for the vines to cover him, for the bugs to eat him alive, for the burns on his face and hands to bleed out, for him to just fade away.

He heard the birds start to chirp again, and felt the sunlight shine through his blinds, but he didn’t get up. Ranboo didn’t get up till he heard owls out his window, and even then it was only to move to his bed. He stared at the ceiling for what felt like days.

Michael greeted him with a happy yelp once Ranboo visited Philza, after two nights had passed.

Phil sighed “I was just about to put him down for a nap”. Ranboo scooped Michael up and kissed his forehead. Michael didn’t know what happened to his father. He didn’t need to know till he was older, the truth that is.

“Can we-” Michael yawned “Can we get pie?”. Ranboo chuckled, a warm feeling he thought he’d lost filled his chest. “Tomorrow we will. We’ll go find aunt Niki and get some pie’s from her”.

Michael leaned against Ranboo’s shoulder. “Good. I want a cherry one…” He closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. Ranboo could relate.

He looked towards Phil. Phil nodded and motioned to the stairs, wordlessly telling Ranboo to go put his kid to bed.

Once Michael was sound asleep, Ranboo made his way downstairs. He found Phil at the fireplace sitting in his big leather chair. He had a cup of tea in hand, watching the flames flicker. Ranboo sat in the rocking chair across from him, finding a mug waiting for him on the coffee table. He picked it up and took a sip. Half of Ranboo expected it to be orange juice.

“How are you?” Phil asked, eyes not leaving the fire.

Ranboo didn’t really want to have this conversation. But he knew it would have to happen eventually so he went with it. “I don’t know,'' he mumbled.

Phil sipped his tea. “Did you sleep?”

Ranboo cringed. Was it that obvious?

“...No”

Phil hummed. “Did you tend to those burns?”

“No”

“And have you eaten?”

Ranboo just stared at his mug, the orange liquid glistening back at him.

“Ranboo, you need to take care of yourself”

Ranboo blinked, and the liquid was honey brown again.

“Ranboo”

If Ranboo tried hard enough, would it taste like orange juice too?

“Ranboo”

Ranboo was losing his mind, wasn’t he?

“Ranboo”, Phil said sternly.

Ranboo finally glared over at him.

“I’m worried about you, mate”

Ranboo looked into the fire. “How’d you know?”

“How’d I know…?”

“How did you know to come?”

Phil pursed his lips before speaking. “An Angel of Death thing I suppose”

Ah. He must be talking about the crows, Ranboo figured.

“Ranboo, I know it’s hard but-” Phil was cut off by the door slamming open. Ranboo didn’t look up.

“Ranboo?” Techno’s voice asked. It seemed like he was asking Phil more than Ranboo.

Ranboo heard him step closer. “Here” Techno put an envelope in Ranboo’s lap before turning to leave.

Ranboo just stared at the envelope till he heard the door shut again. Once it did, Ranboo carefully picked up the envelope, it wasn’t sealed. He lifted the top flap to look inside, and was filled with horror.

Sitting in the clean white folds of the envelope, was a small golden ring.

Ranboo felt his breath leave him. He put a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. His stomach turned as he picked the ring up. It was much too small for Ranboo’s own fingers. But Ranboo knew this ring. He knew this ring because an identical one wrapped around his own finger. He knew this ring because he had touched it so many times.

Ranboo choked back a sob.

“We can get you a string for that if you’d like”, Phil said softly. Ranboo nodded, rubbing the ring between his fingers. And suddenly everything was rushing back to him.

The smell of paint and orange juice filled his lungs. He could feel fingers brushing through his hair and tracing his hands. Ranboo heard the strumming of a ukulele and the sounds of a familiar laugh that made his heart flutter. He was seeing starry night skies and beautiful colours shining through a window. It was all too much.
Ranboo keeled over in his seat, covering his face with his wrists and the back of his thumbs and holding the ring to his forehead. He could feel himself shaking and felt fresh scars being torn back open again. A burning sensation met his hands as tears flowed out of his eyes.

Phil was right next to him, rubbing Ranboo’s trembling back.

“He-He was just here, Phil!” When Ranboo spoke, it felt as if his vocal cords were being torn from his throat. It felt as if someone had poured acid down his throat and it was slowly dripping through his hollow body and staining his heart, burning through his heart strings. “He was just here”.

“I know…” Phil whispered. It struck Ranboo than that Philza too was probably having acid pourn down his throat, except Phil’s throat was already scared and burned from years of the tourture. Taking a vile of acid for every lost son. What's a few more?

Ranboo felt a pang of pity, of guilt. He turned and wrapped his mentor in a tight hug, Ranboo’s own arms trembling.

“I’m sorry-” Ranboo gasped for air through his hysterics “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. I’m-I’m sorry you had to lose another-” Phil immediately moved to hold Ranboo by his shoulders. Ranboo stared at Phil, startled.

Philza wasn’t crying. His eyes weren’t even glassy. “Don’t you apologize to me.”

Ranboo gripped the ring in his hands.

“Do not apologize to me” Phil continued “I should be on my hands and knees right now, thanking you”.

Ranboo stared confused. “What…?”

“You were there for him through all of it. You made Tubbo smile when he was hopeless, even before all of this. It was more than I had ever done. So don’t you even think of apologizing to me.”

Ranboo swallowed and nodded. Phil stood up. “You did good, kid.”

Weeks passed, but it all felt like a blur.

Through technicality, Snowchester was under Ranboo’s leadership after Tubbo’s death. But Ranboo knew he wasn’t fit to be the president, or any kind of leader, for Snowchester. So Ranboo had given the role to Jack, who accepted it and swore he’d live up to Tubbo’s legacy. Ranboo appreciated the sentiment.

They decided to keep Michael at Ranboo’s old home. Ranboo managed to renovate it to make it bigger and more kid friendly, giving it the warm cozy cottage feel Tubbo’s home had.

Tubbo’s home was cleared out. Jack had offered to make it some kind of memorial for Tubbo, but Ranboo couldn't bear the thought of people walking around this pillar of memories and admiring it like a museum artifact. The cottage was to be left vacant. No more laughter and songs to fill it. Ranboo refused to go back to that house. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

If you walk into the forest behind the crater of L’manburg, you’ll find a hole that leads down to the old ravines of Pogtopia. And somewhere, hidden through the caves, an old VCR TV that will never play another film, sits gathering dust. Not broken beyond repair, just given up on by someone who was. A crate of VHS tapes sits atop it. funny cartoons, musical revolutionaries, and dancing lovers that would never be shown on screen for decades.

Ranboo couldn’t remember how, but he and Puffy ended up planning Tubbo’s funeral.

Ranboo just nodded to anything Puffy said, he could tell she was trying to help, but Ranboo couldn’t focus on any of the words she was saying.

He found himself standing on the snowy banks of Snowchester’s ocean, dressed in a black suit, a ring tied to a string around his neck, holding Michael’s hand. A few people surrounded him, Ranboo couldn’t tell who. He watched as they placed flowers on top of a wooden casket in a boat.

Where was Tubbo?

He wasn’t in that casket. Ranboo knew it. He couldn’t be.

“Papa?”

Ranboo looked down.

“Is Dada in that?” Michael pointed to the boat. Ranboo pursed his lips.

“Yeah” Ranboo said quietly “Yeah, he’s going out to sea”.

Michael looked back at the boat, then back to Ranboo. “Can I say bye?”

Ranboo nodded slowly. They walked over to the casket and Michael knocked on the top of it. “Bye bye Dada! Hope you have a good trip!” Michael looked up to Ranboo, looking for some kind of acknowledgment that he did the right thing. Ranboo smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He ruffled Michael’s hair and Michael giggled. “Okay, I want food now”, Michael turned to scan the crowd before running over to presumably Philza, leaving Ranboo alone with a casket and his thoughts.

Were the people staring at him? Waiting for him to break down?

Eye’s carved like knives into Ranboo’s back.

That’s when Ranboo realized he had something in his other hand. He looked down at two wilted flowers, slightly crushed by his hand. A round allium and a delicate tulip.

Ranboo felt sick. Thoughts ran through his head like wildfire.

How did it come to this so quickly? Why was everything moving so fast? Why couldn’t he go back to dancing with his love in a room full of colours and light? It’s all so loud. Where was Tubbo? How could Ranboo get him back? How could Ranboo get himself back?

How had one person torn Ranboo apart so easily?

Tubbo was an anomaly.

Ranboo smiled to himself.

Tubbo could do things that other people couldn't. He could kill the immortal.

He could kill Ranboo.

Tubbo could kill Ranboo, could make Ranboo wheep his heart out, could take all of Ranboo’s riches, and Ranboo would still smile whenever he thought of him. Because that’s just how Tubbo was. That’s just what Tubbo had done to him.

And Ranboo thanked him.

A hand on Ranboo’s back brought him back to reality. Suddenly, it was night and the whispers of other people were gone. How long had Ranboo been standing here in his own thoughts? He turned to the person next to him. Ranboo felt anxiety fill his stomach.

Tommy stared at the boat in front of them. He clutched a yellow dandelion in one hand.
His face was filled with emotions, yet Tommy wasn’t crying. Ranboo did not dare speak. Part of him still expected Tommy to stab him for breaking his promise.

But Tommy didn’t pull out a knife or a sword. He just placed his flower on the boat.

Tommy nudged Ranboo. “Go on” For once, Tommy’s voice was soft “He loved flowers”.

Ranboo nodded and put his two flowers next to Tommy’s. The two friends watched as the flower’s petals fluttered in the wind.

Tommy stepped forward, climbing into the boat. He used the ores to push him and the boat out into the water. He looked at Ranboo then, and Ranboo noticed the bags under Tommy’s eyes. “I’ll tell him you said hi”.

That was the last time Ranboo ever saw Tommy.

Ranboo watched Michael grow up, watched friends grow old. People moved away, started new nations, new family’s. Eventually, Michael matured enough to know what really happened to his other father. Of course, Michael was too young to really be able to know Tubbo at the time, but he tried to read as many history books that included his late father as he could. Michael listened to stories from Ranboo and Philza and others to try and get an understanding of this man he never knew. When Micahel hit 19, he left to find new lands. He promised Ranboo he’d write.

Ranboo didn’t grow old, he grew up.

A very long time ago, Phil had warned Ranboo not to get attached to people. The warnings had been sewn into Ranboo’s life for so long, until one person came in and threaded a new string into Ranboo’s life, changing it forever.

One day, Ranboo woke up in a strange room. He didn’t remember going to sleep there.

Actually, he didn’t remember where he even was.

Ranboo stepped outside of the room, out of the house, and didn’t recognize any of his surroundings. No, his home was somewhere in the snow. Where was he?

That’s when Ranboo began to wander. He wandered through forests and deserts, plains and fields, but he couldn’t find that snowy village. It felt like years but it must have been longer. Sometimes he would meet people, they would ask where he was from, but Ranboo couldn’t recall. He couldn’t remember who he had known, where he had come from, he just knew that he had to keep walking.

He remembered a boy.

Yeah, a boy.

A boy that shined like the sun.

Part of Ranboo knows that this sun boy has something to do with the gold ring around his neck, maybe he’s trapped inside.

But Ranboo couldn’t remember his face. And it ate him up inside.

On a good day, Ranboo could remember the boy’s laugh, and he knew it because the laugh had been his own, once upon a time.

But on a bad day, he would wake up crying, sobbing, burning, because he had no idea what this boy’s face looked like.

Maybe once he found the snow village, Ranboo would find the boy. Maybe the boy was waiting for him there.

And that’s what Ranboo eventually grew to believe. The boy in his dreams, in the back of his head, was going to be there once Ranboo arrived at this village.

But Ranboo traveled for a very long time. And he hoped the boy would wait for him.

After traveling across a certain ocean, Ranboo noticed a nearby frozen bay. He docked his boat on a bit of land that was barricaded by ice. That’s when Ranboo noticed that a village had once stood here. Old stone bricks were crumbling in formations that must have once resembled houses. Ranboo looked around. Things were starting to become familiar.

This was it.

Now where was the boy?

Eventually, Ranboo came across a particular house that seemed to be in better shape than the others. Like someone had been taking care of it years before. It’s clear that they were long gone now. While other houses were nothing but crumbling bricks, this house actually stood. The roof was caved in at some parts, but besides that the house just looked abandoned.

Ranboo pushed open the door and ducked inside. The front door led to what must have been the living room, except there was no furniture. It smelled surprisingly like orange juice. There were three doorways that led to different rooms. The kitchen had no actual door, but looked painfully familiar. When Ranboo looked in, he noticed small animals scittering around. They must have made this place their own home.

The other door ways did actually have doors. One led to where the roof had caved in, the other showed what must have been a bedroom.

When Ranboo stepped into the bedroom, he was struck with deja vu. It was completely empty, a window in the far corner, a room leading off to a small bathroom in the other. On one wall there were bolts into the wall, it must have been used to hold something.

Ranboo felt a sharp stinging feeling on his cheeks. He was crying, yet he had no idea why.

Wait, where was the boy?

Had the boy left without him?

Was Ranboo too late?

Deep down in his gut, Ranboo knew that he had been too late. He had been centuries too late.

Ranboo never left that house. He let the vines consume him. He waited. He stayed.

Philza had probably been right, and this was the price Ranboo paid. Not the pain after Tubbo’s death, not the restless nights, not the burning tears. It’s the curse of love, that no matter what, you’ll never stop. Even to your dying breath.