Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the crackle of ice that brought Tommy such peace, the sound of bladed skates carving smooth paths across ice that shouldn’t hold the skater’s weight.

It was on the ice that Tommy found his first home.

It was on the ice that Tommy felt the most fear.

Tommy’s new foster family owned an ice rink, and for that reason he’d almost said no to them taking him in, as if some miniscule piece of him wanted to fuck up all chances he’d had with this family in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between him and the ice that had once meant so much to him. Still, he found himself there daily, watching others skate in beautiful shapes– shapes that calmed him and brought him out of the fog that seemed to hang around his mind like an omnipresent cloud.

It was almost irresistible, the way the cold dulled his pain, soothed the slight burn in his leg, and cooled his skin to the touch.

The cold and ice introduced him to Tubbo, the happy boy with the brown hair and the obsession with bees. Tubbo found comfort on the ice in a way almost similar to Tommy: soothing pain and cooling the boy's burned skin.

They were a perfect pair, an odd match of happy people.

Tubbo, who could get out on the ice with no problem but was absolutely shit at skating, and Tommy, who couldn’t skate anymore but still dished out Olympic-level advice on how to skate gracefully and in ways his prosthetic wouldn’t let him move.

That is, not that he had tried since losing his leg.

His mind shouted that skating again wasn’t possible and his anxiety told him not to, so he stood – or sometimes sat – on the sidelines to watch his best friend skate and call corrections when necessary.

And it was always necessary.

“Do you need help, Bee Boy?” Tommy mumbled, his concentration more on the sketchbook in his lap than on Tubbo next to him struggling to tie his skates.

Tubbo hummed, holding out his foot without further prompting.

This task was repetitive and enjoyable. Tubbo always asked for help for this particular job, though he wouldn’t actually ask for help. Tommy took his foot by the ankle, propping the covered blade up on the edge of the bench beside him and tightening it in a way that had become second nature since he’d arrived months ago.

“Go on then, Tubbo.” Tommy pulled his binder back onto his lap, propping it half on the bench and half on his leg as he watched Tubbo slowly stand. He took his time waddling towards the edge of the ice.

Tommy looked back down just as Tubbo stepped onto the ice.

There was someone else on the rink: a boy, who, from the looks of it, knew what he was doing, but had an element of hesitation in the way that he moved into his jumps. Tommy could tell the hesitation stemmed from an injury, but despite that he moved fluidly, with practice and a form that Tommy could easily appreciate.

Tommy was distracted by him when Tubbo fell.

In an instant he was on his feet, forcing himself to step towards the wall of the rink and check on his friend.

“You alright, then?” Tommy whispered more quietly than he meant to, but noticed how Tubbo was smiling as he stood. Every ounce of tension Tommy had held in his shoulders faded in an instant. “Keep your butt tucked under you Tubbo, that will–”

“Yeah yeah–” Tubbo shook his head, but still made the adjustment.

Tommy noticed how much it helped; how much easier it was for his friend to keep his balance on the ice, even if he didn’t want to admit to appreciating Tommy’s advice. Tommy smiled, looking back towards the binder that he kept abandoning as he sat back on the bench.

There were sounds on the rink that made him shift in his seat– sounds that drew his attention away from the sketchbook in his lap and made him focus instead on his own anxiety. When his foot started to tap, he began his breathing exercises.

And when his heart started to race, the door opened.

The click of nails and paws on the concrete calmed him in an instant, as did Henry’s head pressing against his knee in an attempt to stop the tapping of his foot.

“Oh hello, Henry–” Tommy gushed in an instant, moving the binder from his lap and pressing his face into the dog's soft fur in an attempt to ground himself. He was distracted easily, rubbing his hands through Henry’s fur and moving through his breathing exercises without interruption.

The dog wiggled in excitement, pulling her face out of Tommy’s hands and spinning a few times in the way that marked her completing her task.

“Oh I am so proud of you Henry, such a good girl– such a good girl.” Tommy mumbled, glancing at Tubbo on the ice as he did. He raised his voice slightly to ask, “What skill are you doing today, Tubbo?”

The other boy on the ice glanced towards Tommy the moment he spoke, and Tommy was suddenly aware that he was shouting– speaking far too loudly for an environment that tended to echo. Tubbo paused, holding his hands out on either side of him to be cautious of his balance as he started towards the wall of the rink.

He reached the side with only one scare, and by the time he did, Tommy was calm enough to focus on the way his friend was moving. Tubbo propped himself against the wall, leaning over and smiling down at Henry, who jumped up excitedly to be in reach of the skater's hands.

Tubbo took his time mumbling at Henry, words just low enough that Tommy couldn’t hear them. The blond boy focused on his own hands instead– clenching and unclenching his fists, timing the movement to his breathing instead of how fast his heart was beating. He found himself needing to repeat the question, something he did often without thinking too much about it. “What skill are you trying today?”

Tubbo paused, lifting his hands off of Henry and backing up slowly onto the ice. His mouth lifted into a hopeful half-smile, and some part of Tommy knew exactly what he was saying before he even opened his mouth.

“Getting you back on the ice–”

“No.”

Tommy’s reply was automatic: some panic-induced response that told him he was no longer safe in this situation. Henry moved to him in an instant, pressing into his hands and placing his front paws across his lap to begin his deep pressure therapy task. Tommy let himself fall into the comfort of it, focusing on Tubbo as he moved towards the center of the ice.

“I want to learn to spin.” Tubbo was almost dejected when he spoke again, but he was also firmly aware of the fact that he shouldn’t attempt to push Tommy past his point of comfort. He struggled with his balance for a moment, feet wobbling underneath him as he tried to find his center.

“Break it down, then.” Tommy watched closely, thinking through the simplest of moves that he could and imagining the boy in front of him moving through the actions. He glanced down at Henry as he spoke, dramatically enunciating the words as if he were speaking to a child– though, in a way he was. “Pivot, build momentum, toe pick, knees bent, pull arms in, upright, chest out, waist straight.”

Tommy looked up, watching closely as Tubbo mouthed the words he’d just spoken. “Be sure not to drop your shoulder, Tubbo,” He reminded, raising his voice enough for the boy to hear and watching closely as Tubbo repositioned his shoulders in response to Tommy’s comment.

“I do know what I’m doing, Toms.” Tubbo spoke in a vaguely annoyed manner that did not reach as far as his body language.

He narrated as he moved, and Tommy looked back down the moment he did.

There was something about the way that Tubbo moved across the ice– something in the way his feet turned out or in the way that he ducked his head when he was unsure that always managed to draw Tommy’s anxiety out into the open. He was proud of his friend – of course he was. The growth that had happened with his capabilities in skating over the past few months was no small feat. But…

There is still some part of him that felt a pang of anxiety every time Tubbo stepped onto the ice.

Realistically, Tommy knew that wouldn’t fade; the feeling deep inside his chest wouldn’t ever really go away. No matter how much deep pressure therapy he did and no matter how much he worked through it with his therapist, he would always fear something going wrong on the rink.

“ Pivot, momentum, toe in the ice, bend my knees, pull my arms in tight –” Tubbo trailed off, and Tommy found Henry in his lap again the moment he refocused. His moment of distraction caused the dog to begin her task once again.

He hummed, splitting his attention between his breathing and the other skater on the ice.

Something about him was familiar; Tommy felt like he recognized his style of skating in how he started each move. But Tommy hadn’t seen him before, except for the few times at the rink and maybe at the bakery just down the road. Still, the familiarity was undeniable, and some part of Tommy wanted to say hello.

Before he could consider making an attempt at standing, Tubbo shifted on the ice, dangerously close to losing his balance entirely. Tommy found himself calling a correction in an instant, “Remember to keep your momentum and not drop your shoulder!”

Tommy tensed as Tubbo attempted the spin again, moving into the two foot turn with his never-wavering confidence. He stepped into the move, executing the spin itself with perfect poise, his shoulders up and arms crossed across his chest. Though the placement of his toe pick in the ice could be a bit more precise to begin with, the move was there.

The moment Tubbo stopped spinning, he cheered. Loudly.

Much too loudly, and echoing in a way that made Tommy wince ever so slightly. Still, he joined in the excitement, resisting the urge to leap to his feet and instead hollering enthusiastically with his hands still buried in Henry’s fur.

“Oh my God– I did it, Tommy!” He was grinning, a bright and happy smile that made Tommy want to hug him and his ever-present joy tightly and never let go.

“You did, Tubbo.” Tommy smiled too, though something was building up behind his eyes. When he spoke again, it was softer, more for Henry’s ears than Tubbo’s. “You did.”

There was more to work on with the movement: the entrance, for one, could be complicated unless properly thought through. Tommy could remember a time when he fell to the ice a hundred times trying to fit this spin into one of his first programs.

But Tubbo was moving before Tommy could think of the right comment to make– Tubbo was stepping into the turn with his usual bright confidence. Tommy was grinning, picking apart each step that his friend made in a way that only he would ever do. And then it was there– the slight drop of his left shoulder throwing off his balance just enough that his foot turned ever so slightly the wrong way–

He was going to fall. He was going to fall, and only Tommy could see it.

The sound of Tubbo hitting the ice echoed especifically painfully, in a way that most skaters were used to feeling–a way that Tommy knew hurt with a deep sort of ache.

“You alright, Bee Boy?” There was concern in Tommy’s voice; concern that was impossibly apparent in his tone.

Tubbo did not move on the ice, and Tommy stood, tingling with unease. He nudged Henry’s head away, ignoring the dog's insistence on him sitting back down. “Tubbo?” His friend did not stir, and Tommy felt something rising in his chest.

Some part of him noticed the other skater on the ice casting a lingering gaze at the unmoving form of Tubbo, but most of Tommy’s focus was on getting to the door of the rink.

There was no hesitation in Tommy’s movements the moment he stepped onto the ice, though he recognized the fact that he should have considered his decision– especially with his trainers on and his prosthetic leg’s inability to provide a point of balance.

“Tubbo?” He called his friend’s name one more time, a last ditch effort to get the boy to move before Tommy crossed the ice to him.

Tubbo stayed completely still, his legs curled into himself and his head sitting unprotected on the ice.

Tommy stepped forward and lost his balance instantly, falling to his knees but focusing solely on getting to his friend. He made no attempts to stand, instead using his hands to push himself across the distance. Henry followed beside him, nudging the blond boy repeatedly in an attempt to get him to listen.

“Tubbo– buddy–” Tommy set his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, noticing how he shook ever so slightly, “Tubbo, please, you’ve gotta talk to me-”

And then Tubbo snorted, a jarringly loud sound in the otherwise silent  rink.

The sound threw nearly every strand of anxiety that Tommy had in his chest out the window, and was accompanied by Tubbo rolling on his back, displaying his already bruising chin and bright grin.

“I got you on the ice.”

A piece of Tommy hurt: something buried deep in his chest. Some part of him thought Tubbo fell on purpose, previous instances with people that are not Tubbo using moments like this as ways to get Tommy to listen.

He pushed the thought out of his mind the same moment he pushed Tubbo away, watching as he slid a few inches back on the ice.

“Oh, fuck you –” There was no venom in his voice when he spoke, and he moved away from his friend, instead making a terrible attempt at standing– something that Henry was only moderately helpful at, considering her own slipping paws. “Goddammit.”

Tubbo must have sensed the frustration– noticed how Tommy’s hands shook, or the way his breathing picked up. “Here, Tommy– let me help.”

But neither of them were particularly skilled when it came to balance, and Tubbo’s attempts at helping were counteracted by his need to rely on Tommy to stand straight up as well.

Tommy could only focus on the anxiety rising in his chest and Henry’s alerts repeating with increasing intensity. Henry’s simple nudges turned into more aggressive pushing the more that Tommy appeared to spiral. The blonde boy shook his head, pushing Henry away as he lost his balance once again.

Some small part of him wanted to just lay on the ice and wait for someone who knew what they were doing, but Tubbo was so confident and the coolness pressing into his back made Tommy feel as though he were freezing.

Suddenly, there was a hand under his arm and a grip that he didn’t recognize.

He almost pushed it away on instinct, but the hand was confident and the person attached to it seemed to be sure of what they were doing. With their help, Tommy was at the wall with only one slip, though that slip in particular had almost brought him, the stranger, and Tubbo all crashing onto the ice.

Then, a voice was speaking– one that was unfamiliar and distinctly accented, “Are you alright?”

Tommy’s response came unbidden, without a filter. “Why are you American?” His eyes were shut, but somehow he knew that the person who had helped him was the one that had been skating so beautifully on the other side of the rink.

“Tommy!” Tubbo’s hand smacked him without prompting, “You can’t just ask someone that–” He sighed, and Tommy felt him turn to address a slightly different direction, “He’s fine. He just slipped.”

Henry nudged him again, paws slipping on the ice. Tommy set his hand on Henry’s head, the other resting on the point where his residual limb met his prosthetic. He knew he should sit down or at least get off of the ice, but something in him was stuck to this place, with Tubbo lingering over his shoulder and the stranger watching too closely.

When the American spoke again, it was hesitantly. “You should probably get the uh– the dog off the ice.”

Tommy shrugged, “Phil’s used to it.”

The stranger did not comment at that, nor when Tommy pushed his hand away when they offered to help him get back to the sidelines. Instead, Tommy relied on Tubbo and Henry. The dog’s alerts were becoming more and more insistent the more that Tommy continued to ignore her. 

When both his feet were firmly planted on solid, non-slippery ground, Tommy finally took a deep breath.

And when Tommy was seated on the same bench as before, Henry began her task of calming him down.

“Thank you for helping–” Tubbo trailed off as he spoke, inviting the still-hovering stranger to reply with their name.

They hesitated before speaking, then blurted out, “Ranboo.” A part of Tommy wanted to comment on how odd the name was, but a larger part of Tommy was concentrating on his breathing instead. The stranger continued, “And you’re…?”

Tommy felt Tubbo’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t find the words to reply. He focused on Henry, and on the way that it felt to run his fingers through her fur. Some part of him wanted to leave, but he knew that Henry would not let him– not when his hands were still shaking and his breathing was so inconsistent.

“That’s Tommy.” Tubbo set his hand on the wall as he spoke, trying not to lose his balance as he concentrated more on speaking clearly. “I’m Tubbo.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Tommy looked up when Ranboo spoke, forcing himself to concentrate on the person in front of him for the first time beyond admiring his skating on the ice. He was tall – taller than even Wilbur – and his hair was light brown. He wore a fabric face mask, and, oddly enough, a pair of sunglasses. His hands had splotches on them, and before Tommy could look at them for long enough to recognize what it was, he had tucked his hands into his pockets.

And Tommy wouldn’t question it, because out of anyone in the world to want to cover something up, Tommy would understand.

“Both of you.”

~~~~~

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Chapter Text

If Tommy could rely on one thing in his constantly changing life, it was the consistency of Tubbo.

Their friendship was built on a mutual understanding of chronic illness, which was an odd thing to begin a friendship with, but it worked for them. With all of the chaos of life and the need for some form of consistency, Tommy loved his friendship with Tubbo.

So when Tubbo called Tommy in the morning to ask about skating and Tommy hesitated, the offer of spending the afternoon at the Antartic Empire Skate Rink was changed to spending the day at Neimki Coffee due to Tommy’s moment of hesitation.

And Tommy appreciated Tubbo just a little bit more.

Tommy spent the first part of the day mostly alone, unless he counted the other students in his art classes, which he rarely did. Of course, there was always Henry, a constant solid presence at his side. She helped when it came to the Underground and the longer walks through crowded streets, her training coming into play brilliantly everytime his steps faltered or his false knee buckled.

Monday through Friday, from ten a.m. until three p.m., Tommy was a university student with Henry in tow. After that, he was whatever he wanted to be.

It changed from day to day.

For the first few months after moving in with Philza, he was in physical therapy almost every day, but now it was more like twice a week, sometimes three if his leg was causing him problems. He didn’t mind the inconsistency, not when it gave him the freedom to wander from place to place and rest in between stops.

When Tommy’s train stopped at the station that he and Tubbo always met at after school, his friend was waiting at the top of the stairs, head ducked and eyes trained on his phone. He shuffled his feet as he waited, and Tommy let Henry approach first to avoid startling him.

“Henry!” Tubbo’s excitement was tangible, and he bent to pet Henry’s head before letting his eyes follow the leash up to Tommy’s hand and smiling at his best friend.

There was a moment of hesitation as the two looked at each other; Tommy could see it in Tubbo’s eyes. He was unsure whether or not to hug him.

Tommy smiled softly, stepping forward and opening his arms, Tubbo fell into the hug in an instant, immediately beginning to groan and grumble loudly about how terrible school was. He was being dramatic above anything else, but Tommy still nodded and hummed in a way that showed he was acknowledging Tubbo’s emotions.

He stepped back, and Tubbo assumed his usual spot on Tommy’s left as Henry walked on his right side, prancing in time with their steps.

“Your chin looks terrible,” Tommy muttered, but he was smiling, the comment more lighthearted than anything else. 

It was a fifteen minute walk to Neimki Coffee, and the pair moved along in comfortable silence, falling in step with each other easily.

Tubbo took his hearing aids out and allowed himself a moment of peace in an auditorily overwhelming world as they walked. In turn, Tommy signed one-handed comments in his direction as they moved, the action common enough to not be awkward.

There was a peace shared between Tommy and Tubbo in moments like these, and they were still smiling when they reached Neimki Coffee.

Tubbo held the door open for their little group, replacing his cochlear implant as he did and tucking the other hearing aid into his overall pocket in a way Tommy knew he would forget about later. Tommy frowned, wincing when his leg twinged, and Henry’s nudge followed barely a moment later. She pushed her head into Tommy’s leg and he set his hand on her head, pressing back softly and making a mental promise that he would rest in a minute.

Niki grinned at the pair as soon as they stepped inside, but that soon turned into a sympathetic wince when her eyes found Tubbo’s scuffed chin.

She frowned, exclaiming, “Oh Tubbo, what happened to your chin?”

Tubbo grinned proudly, “I fell, but it doesn’t even hurt anymore!”

Niki looked at him with thinly veiled disbelief, then took her time rolling her wheelchair to the front of the cafe, carefully maneuvering through the various tables and patrons. “Right, what can I get for you?”

Tubbo hummed noncommittally, glancing at the menu and squinting.

Tommy shifted and immediately winced, a flare of dull pain rippling up his leg. Henry alerted, her nose pressing into the back of Tommy’s hand in her usual way. Tommy hummed, blinking blearily and taking in a deep breath in an effort to move past the feeling.

Niki glanced at Tommy, “Do you want your usual?”

He hummed affirmatively in reply, shifting again and looking around the room.

“Oooh–” Tommy was startled as Tubbo started to speak, his volume too loud in the closed space, not that either Tommy or Niki would comment. “Can I get one of those oatmeal-honey cookies?”

“Of course!” Niki smiled as she rang it up, and she turned away from the counter, handing the receipt to one of her employees. Tommy watched the paper more closely than he should, frowning and scrunching up his nose in one movement. “Tubbo, how about you go sit down and give Tommy a hand on your way?”

Niki’s eyes were soft as she watched Tommy closely, and Tommy did his best to return the smile, though he was sure it looked more like a grimace. Tubbo led the way and Tommy barely hesitated before speaking: “Follow Tubbo, Henry.”

She did so without hesitation, paws clicking on the floor as she trailed Tubbo through the coffee shop. Tommy relied on the lead attached to her harness, letting himself concentrate on his breathing as she pulled him after Tubbo. They found their usual spot: a table by the window, tucked in the back corner enough not to be noticed. Tommy took the spot against the wall, leaning heavily on the table as he settled into his seat. Henry tucked herself under Tommy’s chair, her head resting across the top of his false foot.

Tommy searched through his backpack, emerging with his sketchbook held tightly in one hand and a pencil in the other. He opened it and set himself up for sketching without another thought, the sketchbook balanced on the edge of the table and his chin propped on his hand as he focused on the empty page in front of him.

At some point, his coffee appeared on the table in front of him, though he couldn’t really remember when it was handed to him. Henry was still at his side, though her head was no longer resting on his foot. She whined softly, her nose pressing under his fingers and pushing his hand onto the top of her head. He settled his fingers in her fur, pushing across the soft texture and humming in a way that always grounded him.

Across the table, Tubbo was squinting down at his own work, his hands laying flat on top of a page he was attempting to read. Tommy watched him for a second, then flipped open a new page of his sketchbook, hands moving almost of their own accord. Tommy had always loved these moments with Tubbo: the times when his friend sat still long enough for Tommy to start a sketch and sometimes finish it. Some part of him wished he had his watercolors with him, to add colors to the sketch that would fit his best friend's energy.

“Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice was soft, and Tommy looked up. “Can you read this for me? I can’t– it’s not making sense right now.”

Tommy nodded, reaching across the table and accepting the offered page. He propped his head on his hand, humming to himself before beginning to read out loud.

It was something to do with mythologies, and most of it went right over his head, though some parts reminded him of stuff that Technoblade liked to talk about. Tommy has always loved Techno’s retellings of Greek myths, even if he didn’t really understand them.

“If you need help understanding, Techno can probably help with that?” Tommy suggested, almost as a question, unsure if his suggestion was wanted. Tubbo looked up, and Tommy continued, “Techno’s good with all that– that Greek mythology shit, like really good at it.”

Tommy glanced back down the moment he finished speaking, beginning to detail the sketch he had started with small pencil strokes. When the bell at the front door rang, Tommy glanced up automatically, his eyes finding a tower of a person standing just inside the front door wearing a cloth face mask. There was something familiar about him, though Tommy wasn’t particularly sure how to place where he knew him from.

He tried to concentrate on the art on his page, but Tubbo was standing and moving across the room before Tommy could think.

“What– Tub- Where are you going–” Tommy frowned, reaching to grab at Tubbo before dropping his hand and sighing, “And he’s gone.”

Tubbo was waving his hands excitedly in the direction of the towering man. “Ranboo!”

And that was what Tommy needed to remember who they were. Tommy smiled, thinking back to how kind the American had been during Tubbo’s failed skating session. Tommy watched from a distance as Ranboo looked immediately over Tubbo’s head, missing the boy entirely as he approached. Tommy smiled, noticing the excited hand movements that Tubbo used as he spoke to the new guy.

Ranboo seemed kind, smiling in a way that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look excited. Tubbo pointed over his shoulder, and Ranboo’s eyes found Tommy’s. He waved, and Tommy felt the need to stand and cross the room.

“Brace, Henry–” Tommy mumbled, taking Henry’s leash in hand, pressing one hand into her back and the other on the edge of the table. He stood with little trouble and crossed the room without a problem. He smiled at Ranboo as he approached, his eyes lingering on the skin around Ranboo’s, recognizing the patches of mismatched skin as something that Tommy has seen before. He looked away, following Ranboo’s line of sight to Tubbo’s chin.

“How’s your chin, Tubbo?”

Tubbo shrugged in his usual way, an overeager movement that put his shoulders high up next to his ears and could at times jolt his cochlear implant off the magnet. “It’s not that bad. I’ve had worse falls before, this was just a scrape–” Tubbo glanced over his shoulder at Tommy “Tommy’s seen worse.”

Ranboo smiled, glancing at Henry, before looking at Tommy, “I can believe it.”

Then it was awkward, something completely and totally expected out of three teenagers meeting for only the second time. It was only because of Tubbo that the awkwardness didn’t last.

“You’re new here, right?”

Internally, Tommy was chiding Tubbo; they were in London , there was no way for everyone to know everyone, and it was almost guaranteed the person standing in front of the pair was not new. 

Tommy’s leg twinged, and Henry nudged it softly.

Ranboo nodded his head from side to side, “Sort of. I live in Greenwich, but the rink I used to skate at closed almost a year ago.” He smiled, “I only just started skating at the Antarctic Empire a month ago.”

Tubbo barely allowed Ranboo the chance to breathe before asking another question, “Are you in school in Greenwich?”

Ranboo squinted, “No, I graduated a few months ago.”

“Are you going to Uni?”

“Maybe?” Ranboo shrugs, “I haven’t–”

“Why maybe?” Tubbo interrupted, staring Ranboo down like he was the most interesting person in the world. Tommy smiled at his friend's eagerness, though he was sure to keep a close eye on Ranboo’s eyes, looking for the moment the taller boy became uncomfortable.

“Well,” Ranboo shifted slightly, “I’m going to try and qualify for the Olympics, so most of my time is spent practicing. I don’t want to try and do both at once.”

Tommy shifted, unconsciously moving back onto his prosthetic leg, and winced again, accidentally catching Ranboo’s eye as he did. He looked away, repositioning his hand on Henry’s harness and rolling his shoulders.

“That’s true.” Tubbo nodded like Ranboo just shared a secret with him, “Why are you trying–”

“Tubbo.” Tommy mumbled, half aware that Tubbo couldn’t hear him with the volume of the coffee shop. He reached out and set a hand on Tubbo’s arm, then turned, “Tubbo, I need to go sit down.”

Instantly, Tubbo looked nervous– almost panicked. He reached out, putting a hand on Tommy’s elbow and speaking softly, overly aware of the volume of his voice in a moment like this. “Oh– fuck– Toms can I– Do you need help?” He was clearly nervous, and Tommy did his best to shake off the pain he was feeling and smile.

He started to say no, to insist that he could make it back to their table on his own and that he didn’t want to distract Tubbo from his conversation with his new friend, but his knee decided to twinge again just as he opened his mouth to reply.

“Here–” Ranboo was holding out his elbow to him, smiling softly. “I’ll help you sit down, and Tubbo?”

Tubbo hummed.

“Can you grab my drink when it’s ready?” Ranboo waited for Tubbo’s nod, “Then if you still want to ask questions, can I join the two of you?”

It was phrased as a question– one that made Tommy smile and mumble some form of affirmative. He took Ranboo’s offered elbow, leaning on him more than he should as Ranboo helped him across the room.

Tommy sat first, and Henry’s head was on his lap a moment later, ready to do her job and provide comfort. “Thank you, Ranboo.”

Ranboo shrugged and smiled, then pulled a chair from a nearby table to join Tommy. “Of course,” He sat. “Are you okay?” Tommy tilted his head to the side, confused, and Ranboo clarified. “You fell yesterday too, pretty hard–”

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” He paused, “I just–”

“What kind of coffee did you get?” Tubbo didn’t realize he was interrupting, but Tommy internally thanked him anyway. The potentially awkward situation was completely avoided.

Ranboo turned to face Tubbo, eyes crinkling. “I didn’t, I got tea.”

Tubbo set the cup on the table, smiling as he plopped down and propped his head on his hand, waiting for the okay to keep asking his questions. Tommy leaned forward, scratching at Henry’s ears as he did. “Maybe we should do introductions first? Then you can keep asking questions?” He turned to Ranboo, “My name's Tommy. I use he/him pronouns, and I’m a Uni student studying art.”

It took Ranboo a moment to speak, “I’m Ranboo, I use they/he, and I’m–uh– I’ve already finished high school– and, uh, yeah…” They trailed off and looked at Tubbo.

“Oh! I’m Tubbo– I use he/him, and I’m still in high school.” Tubbo frowned aggressively, “Sadly.”

Ranboo snorted, and Tommy smiled.

There was another pause, a moment of silence, where Ranboo took their time pulling off the fabric face mask and sipping from their mug. Tommy could see the slight shake in his hand, and smiled in a way he hoped was encouraging.

With introductions out of the way, Tubbo bulldozed on to ask his question: “Why do you want to go to the Olympics?” Ranboo hesitated, and Tubbo seemed to realize he must have overstepped. He leaned forward as if sharing a secret, “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that one. Do you like free skating or the short program more?”

Ranboo took a sip of their drink first, leaning back in his chair and glancing at Tommy. Tommy smiled and continued to work on his sketch of Tubbo and adding Ranboo into the sketch.

“Free skate.” Ranboo’s reply was easy.

Tommy looked up, “Really?” He didn’t bother holding back his surprise, “I always liked the program– there’s structure there. Less can–” He paused, shakes his head, “How many years have you been skating?”

Ranboo glanced between Tommy and Tubbo, a smile slowly sliding onto their face, “I feel like I’m at a job interview.” The three laugh, “I’ve been skating since I was nine, so–” A pause, “nearly ten years?”

Tubbo nodded, rocking back and forth and glancing between the other two. The moment Tubbo doesn’t have a question to answer he looks down at the worksheet he was working on. Ranboo smiled and looked over to Tommy.

The look gives him more of a chance to look at the patches of skin on their face, the slightly discolored sections focusing around his mouth and trailing across their jawline and down into their shirt. It looks like vitiligo, but Tommy can’t be sure.

Tommy looked back down at his drawing.

“It’s called vitiligo.” Ranboo smiled as they said it, though the look did not reach their eyes. Tommy recognized that look, the ‘I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this-but-will-if-I-have-too’ look. He opens his mouth to continue, “I–

“I’ve heard about that!” Tommy smiled, trying everything he could to ease the worry that he could see in Ranboo’s eyes. “My– uh– my mum had some of it, on her shoulders and hands.”

They relax, pausing for just a moment before trying to speak again.

“Ranboo, can you read?” Tubbo interrupted without realizing it.

Ranboo squinted, and Tommy could feel their gaze on him for just a second, as if wanting to make sure the conversation was really over, before they replied, “Yeah, Tubbo, I can read.”

Tommy glanced up, watching as Tubbo held up his homework page and smiled at Ranboo. “I’d ask Toms, but he’s got an assignment to finish for Uni–” He paused, “My head doesn’t– I can’t read well? It doesn’t make sense…” He trailed off.

Ranboo shifted forward, holding out their hand and accepting the page from Tubbo. “Of course.”

Tommy smiled to himself, happy that they’d found Ranboo and grateful for his easy yes in helping Tubbo. They started to read the page out, pausing every now and then to define some of the larger words.

Tommy hadn’t expected to see Ranboo again, especially in such a random place. He settled back into his drawing, easily replicating the scene before him with Ranboo’s voice as a soft background sound.

At that moment, Tommy appreciated Ranboo, just as much as he did Tubbo.

Chapter Text

It’d been two years since Tommy moved to Greater London, and he still hadn’t gotten used to the constant movement of the city. Sure, it was a beautiful place to live, but since he’d spent most of his childhood in a city significantly smaller than London, it was no wonder that Tommy couldn’t really get used to it.

Most days, just stepping outside was overwhelming, reminding him of times before with journalists and cameras and flashing lights. Those days, he could barely even consider venturing alone into the Underground and attempting to get to his university.

His foster family helped where they could, which usually meant riding with him on the train in the mornings or meeting him at the last stop after all of his classes on the rare days when he wasn’t with Tubbo.

Phil helped on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Tommy had an 8 a.m. lecture and Phil usually left for work at 7:15, so the pair of them rode into the city together. Phil’s work was a few stops past where Tommy got off for school, and the ride was easier with Phil there as a solid presence at his side. 

Tuesday was Tommy’s free day, so he usually spent it at either Neimki Coffee or the various places throughout the city that gave him the inspiration to actually work on his art.

In the beginning, Thursdays were the tricky days. He had a lecture at 10 a.m., which meant he couldn’t ride with Phil unless he wanted to be ridiculously early, which he didn’t.  So, for the first few weeks, Tommy attempted to make it to the university on his own.

At first, he tried riding the Underground, but found that that was far too overwhelming even with Henry there to help. Once, just once, he attempted to walk the few miles himself, but his prosthetic did not appreciate that at all. 

Then, Techno decided to step in.

It wasn’t discussed beforehand, but one morning, Tommy woke up to Techno sitting at the dining room table reading some philosophy book. When Tommy went to leave, Techno followed him out, walking in step with him the entire way to the station and then standing in front of him on the actual train. 

When asked, Techno always said the same thing: “There’s a really good farmer’s market down the road from your university.”

When the second semester came around, Tommy added a class at 1:30, which meant that he had an awkward hour and a half in the middle of the day where he had to figure out what to do with himself.

At first, he tried to make it home for lunch, but found out quickly that there wasn’t enough time for that.

It was a bit of a problem at the beginning, Techno would take him to his campus, but then Tommy would hurry home after class only to have to turn back and make the return journey after just ten minutes of being there. However, on most days he couldn’t get himself to go to a restaurant for lunch, even just for some takeaway, so there wasn’t much else he could do.

Then, Wilbur invited him to lunch.

Tommy thought the invitation was a one-off and that his foster brother just wanted to go to lunch because he had the free time, but then he got invited again.

And again.

And then it became a part of the routine.

The school that Wilbur worked at was only a few blocks away, and he said he didn’t mind the short walk to meet Tommy at whatever place was decided on for lunch.

Tommy was grateful, more than he would say, because the comfort of his foster family being there to just be there was needed on most days.

And today was no different.

Tommy decided on the place: a Pret on the corner at the exact middle point between where he went to school and where Wilbur worked. The employees there were used to Tommy’s presence with Henry at his side, and always had treats for her.

It was busier today, and Tommy half considered turning around and picking a different place. Henry nudged at his leg, and Tommy glanced down.

“Hello Henry,” He smiled, “Sit, please.” The please was unnecessary, but Tommy included it anyway, watching closely as Henry spun around once before sitting right beside his fake leg.

As he took his place in the line, Tommy looked up at the menu, resisting the urge to jump when the door at the front of the store slammed shut. Henry nudged his leg and Tommy put his hand on her head, scratching at her ears as she provided him a bit of comfort.

He took a deep breath, squinting at the refrigerator wall full of sandwiches and taking a step forward as the line shifted. He was distracted, eyes bouncing between the different sandwiches and the door behind him. Tommy picked for Wilbur first, grabbing the same sandwich that he always ate, before focusing more specifically on what to get for himself.

Despite the fact that he got the same thing each time, Tommy took the opportunity to stand there and breathe, nodding for people to go ahead of him as he pretended to be stuck between two types of bread.

Henry was still alerting him at even intervals, nudging her head into his thigh, waiting for him to do what he was meant to do. He half ignored her–

“You’re not meant to have dogs here.”

The voice startled him more than he would admit. Tommy shifted, glancing over his shoulder to find a woman standing there staring at him. He looked away and shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

“I don’t want to be here.” Tommy mumbled to himself, grabbing his usual sandwich and balancing it on his forearm beside the other sandwich as he readjusted his hold on Henry’s leash. He spoke louder, “Come on Henry, to the counter.”

Henry ignored his direction. Instead of taking him to the counter, she started to lead him to a table. He frowned and spoke firmly, “Henry, counter.” She paused, looking up at him as if asking if he was sure. Tommy repeated himself, and she lead the way, tugging lightly on the leash but not enough to pull him over.

The woman stepped in front of him, saying pointedly, “You’re not meant to have dogs in here.”

Tommy frowned and side-stepped her. “Excuse me.” He looked to the cashier, “Can I also get a Coke and a water bottle please?”

The cashier nodded and smiled, glancing at the woman before turning away to grab the two drinks. Tommy set his sandwiches on the counter, frowning a bit as he felt the woman staring at him from behind.

Henry nudged him again. “Nearly there Henry, nearly there,” He mumbled without looking at her, and instead focused on pulling out his wallet. The door to the restaurant opened again, chiming loudly and causing Tommy to jump again.

The cashier still hadn’t returned.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Tommy reacted.

He turned, pushing himself away from the hand and putting his back firmly against the counter. The woman was speaking to him, saying the same sentence over and over again, her voice firm and her words angry.

“I don’t–” Tommy breathed heavily, and Henry jumped up.

Tommy wasn’t sure where he was anymore. His back was against the counter and Henry’s front paws were on his chest, and he was supposed to be breathing but he really couldn’t be sure if he was.

And then– familiar hands were waving in front of his face, and a voice was still shouting, and Tommy knew that he was spiraling. “I can’t– I can’t breathe–” Tommy’s voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him, and he pressed his hands over his ears, eyes darting around the room– “Wilbur–” He was shaking and Wilbur – when did Wilbur get there?   – Wilbur was signing to him.

It was an open handed sign, both hands over his chest that moved up and down in time with each other. Wilbur signed something else, his hands shaking slightly as he offered Tommy his hand. 

Tommy was vaguely aware of the pair of them leaving the Pret, the shop door slamming shut behind them. Henry jumped up, nudging Tommy backwards. When he sat, it was more clumsy than he intended for it to be, his prosthetic leg sort of flinging out in front of him and he knocked his head against the window behind him.

Henry was on his lap in an instant, doing her job and nuzzling her head into Tommy’s hands. Tommy could make out Wilbur’s signing more clearly now. He breathed deeply, focusing on the way his foster brother’s hands moved instead of his own anxiety.

The first sign was a familiar one: a pointer finger resting just below a pinky, a hand flipped over and Wilbur moved his pointer to rest at the joint of his thumb. “Tommy.”

Tommy hummed, the sound comforting in his ears and in how it pushed from his chest.

Wilbur repeated the same sign from when they were inside, motioning for Tommy to copy him, which the younger boy did without hesitation. His hands were still shaking slightly, and Henry’s nose nuzzled against his palms.

“ Home? ” The sign made Tommy pause, his foster brother’s practiced hands forming a roof in front of him, his eyebrow raised to convey that the sign was a question. Tommy shook his head, his hand pressed into his chest as his breathing started to slow.

“I need you to– to–” He held out his hand, reaching for Wilbur and for comfort. Tommy tipped forward, pressing his face into Henry’s fur and breathing deeply. “I need to focus on something– something else…” He trailed off, his voice suddenly noncompliant as he tried his best to calm down.

Tommy was not looking at Wilbur, and couldn’t fathom lifting his head from the comfort of Henry’s soft fur. Wilbur took it in stride, wrapping Tommy’s hand around his own and beginning the process of fingerspelling.

The first letter was an ‘S’: a sign Tommy recognized with ease, his hands brushing against Wilbur’s knuckles as he followed the familiar shape. His eyes were still squeezed shut, his other hand buried in Henry’s fur. The second letter was ‘H’, and it took him a moment to recognize it. Wilbur moved on, the ‘E’ is simple enough, and then repeated the first letter again: ‘S.’

“ She’s. ” Tommy’s voice was just above a whisper, and he lifted his head slightly, squinting into the bright light and looking for confirmation from Wilbur.

Wilbur grinned as he nodded, signing ‘yes’ over and over until Tommy dropped his head again.

He continued his task.

The first shape that Wilbur created almost caused Tommy to raise his head again, the sign so similar to others that it took him longer to recognize it without seeing it.

‘B.’

The second was easy enough: ‘I.’

And the next: ‘T.’

‘C.’

And then Tommy was smiling, staring up at his foster brother and shaking his head as if exasperated. Wilbur was shaking with silent laughter, his shoulders scrunched up by his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. Still, he signed through the laughter, “ I made you smile .”

Somehow Tommy's smile grew, so much so that his cheeks started to hurt. “You did.”

By the time Wilbur stopped laughing, Tommy was feeling better. Henry performed her job perfectly, calming him down and being sure to keep him calm. 

Wilbur tapped the air, drawing Tommy’s attention back to him and looking at him seriously. “ Tommy ,” his name sign was a comfort, though the rest of the sentence was something he wasn’t expecting: “ We are here for you .” The general ‘we’ was signed first, before Wilbur paused and signed Techno’s and Phil’s names individually. 

Tommy’s voice was soft when he spoke. “I know.”

But he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

Tommy paused before speaking, almost as if he was unsure whether or not he could ask, “Can we go home?”

Wilbur nodded, his face softening as he looked at Tommy. “ Yes .”

Tommy was aware of the fact that there was no real sign for the words ‘of course,’ but somehow the idea was still conveyed in the way Wilbur smiled at him. Tommy nodded, and clicked his tongue. Henry jumped to her feet, coming to stand just beside Tommy.

Wilbur stood first, offering a hand to Tommy and pulling him to his feet with ease.

They stood there for a minute on the sidewalk as Tommy found his bearings, the ground below him swaying slightly as he breathed.

“Home,” Tommy whispered with a smile.

Wilbur nodded, offering his elbow to his younger brother and signing with his free hand, “ Home .”

Chapter Text

Ranboo was not prepared for the day.

They left their apartment in a rush, their feet stumbling over scrunched-up rugs in an attempt to leave before he was actually late. They made it down to the first floor of their apartment, out the door, and halfway down the street before they realized they had left without their phone.

A part of him wanted to turn around and grab it, but the more rational part of them knew that he should just keep going.

Ranboo barely made it to his train, though as he passed through the door the moment before it shut, he was reminded of the fact that the Underground ran consistently and he easily could have caught the next one.

But he was already gone, the train door shut tight and his eyes fixed on his watch as he counted the minutes that passed. Ranboo was used to the rocking of the Underground car, the way it had always made them hold onto the railing above his head for fear that he would fall.

He had definitely not fallen ever before.

Definitely not.

The grip he had on the rail was tight, their knuckles white with the effort of staying upright as he leaned away from the motion of the train to avoid tipping.

It wasn’t too busy on the train that morning, not as busy as they’d expected it to be.

Ranboo waited for three stops to pass before he moved toward the door, then another two before they readjusted their bag on their shoulder and stepped out onto the platform. It was a five minute walk to the Ice Rink from the station—a five minute walk that put him outside the doors ten minutes late to his reserved ice time.

The Antarctic Skate Rink was like a second home to Ranboo, even if he’d only skated there for a few months.

There was something about the atmosphere that made him feel safe. The music that played on the speakers in the waiting area—usually classic rock ranging from the Eagles to the Beatles and everything in between—and the smell of the classic rink food that could be bought at the concessions stand… every skate rink was pretty similar, but there was something about this one that set it apart.

That something, Ranboo had decided, was Tommy and Tubbo.

In the two weeks since Ranboo had met the pair, he’d easily grown attached.

Both of them were friendly, welcoming Ranboo into their friendship and group chat, and ready to get together, whether that meant homework or joining him at the rink while they practiced their program.

Ranboo welcomed the company, especially since Tubbo always had an encouraging word to say and an excitement to match Ranboo’s when they nailed a particularly difficult move.

Sometimes, Tommy would even give him pointers.

And that was Ranboo’s favorite part.

It usually only happened when Tommy was too tired and less aware of what he was doing. He would sit on the floor in front of the entrance to the rink, one leg stretched out in front of him with his heel resting on the ice. Tommy would prop himself against Henry, his eyes half-shut and a smile on his face. He breathed slower, less aware of his surroundings and more focused on relaxing into the feeling.

Ranboo knew that sleep didn’t come easily to Tommy—that much was easily obvious from the dark circles under his eyes and the sheer amount of times that Tommy would doze off while the trio sat at Neimki Coffee.

Tubbo always sat taller when Tommy was like this, his eyes focused on looking between his best friend and the exits to the room. It was a protective action, one that Tommy was not aware of when it happened.

Tommy paid more attention to Ranboo’s skating when he was like this, his eyes carefully following each turn on the ice with a lighter air around him.

He watched and he commented and he made Ranboo a better skater, even if it was just a mumbled tip on how to properly rotate his turn or how to stop them from fumbling when he landed.

Ranboo was curious about this behavior; questions sat on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to ask, but knew better. They weren’t at the right place in their friendship with the other two, but he knew enough to see that there was a reason for the distance, a reason for his secrets.

A reason that Ranboo was not aware of.

So he waited and worked and did not expect anything from Tommy, not until he was ready to share.

And now, seated on a bench at the rink and staring blankly at the ice in front of him, Ranboo only wanted to think about what it felt like to skate, for everything to wash away. They laced up their skates, their hands moving methodically and with ease.

When Ranboo stepped onto the ice, they were comforted by the feeling of their bladed skates sliding along the ice. He moved through his warmups comfortably, sliding across the ice and stretching their hands above their head in a continuous motion. They crossed their arms across their chest, spinning in lazy circles as he mentally moved through his plan for his practice.

He had the rink reserved for an hour—a whole hour to spend focusing on moving his way through the rough outline of a program they’ve been working on.

They took a step forward, dropping their arms and rolling their shoulders. Ranboo focused on the feeling of his foot sliding across the ice, and mentally prepared himself to move into his first jump of the day.

He started off skating forwards, then leaned into the movement and picked up the pace as they moved around the rink. The jump was second nature to him as he flipped around on his left foot to skate backwards for a length and then push himself into the air.

Their Salchow was elegant, and when his right foot landed on the ice, knee bent only slightly, they continued to slide forwards, hands reaching up to re-adjust the cloth mask resting over the lower half of his face. They leaped lazily into a half-rotated move that borrowed from the continued momentum in the previous jump.

Claps echoed through the rink as Ranboo stepped into a camel turn, his right leg outstretched as he slowly bent at the knee. They picked up the pace as he spun faster and faster, his eyes scanning the edge of the rink as he did so.

A vaguely blonde figure stood there, and unconsciously Ranboo smiled as he started to stand in the turn. The exit from their camel spin was effortless, and he slowly came to a stop, hands stretched above his head as if he were ending his routine.

“Tommy!” Ranboo blinked a few times, then shook the hair out of his eyes and started towards the side of the rink, “I didn’t expect–”

But the man that stood there was not Tommy.

Ranboo stopped.

The man was taller than Tommy, his shoulders broader and his hair close-cropped to his scalp. Ranboo stopped moving towards him, digging the pick of his left skate into the ice.

“Not Tommy.” The man smiled, but there was something off about it. He held a water bottle out to Ranboo—more specifically, he held Ranboo’s water bottle out to them.

He was American, but even that felt wrong in some way. Ranboo slid across the ice, the sound loud in the heavy silence. He took the water bottle, and continued away until he was a few feet from the wall. The move could have been mistaken as their momentum carrying them, but something told Ranboo the man wouldn’t believe that.

Ranboo pulled the string of his mask off his left ear, then spun the bottle cap off of the water bottle and lifted it to their lips without looking away from the stranger.

“That’s unfortunate.”

The comment was out of place and sunk like a stone in Ranboo’s stomach. His palms were clammy when he lowered the water bottle. Ranboo tilted their head to the side, as if they didn’t understand what the comment was directed at.

It was the timing that gave him away, and the way that the man’s eyes lingered on the now visible skin around his mouth and across their jawline. Ranboo’s comfort with their vitiligo took time—comments like that did little to affect it—but that didn’t mean that his words didn’t sting.

The man smiled again, a dismissive look, before he leaned against the wall of the rink.

“You’re Ranboo, right?”

Ranboo nodded.

“The Ender Prince .” The stranger’s tone was mocking, though the words from anyone else would have been admiring or playful. He tilted his head to the side, fixing Ranboo with a pointed look, “I’m Dream. Who’s your coach?”

It was a simple question with a simple answer, but something about the man, Dream, felt threatening.

“This is a closed practice. How did you know that I would be here?” Ranboo paused, “You’re not meant–”

Dream frowned, waving a hand as if it would dismiss Ranboo’s words, “Yeah, yeah, yeah don’t worry about that.” He paused, “We’re talking, so it’s fine.”

Ranboo frowned and shifted his feet back and forth on the ice.

“Who’s your coach?”

Again, Ranboo hesitated. His lack of coach was not a soft spot, but something about this interaction felt strange.

When the stranger, Dream, spoke again, it was with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you don’t have one.” His laughter echoed across the rink, a sharp sound that pierced through the icy air and made Ranboo take a step back. “You can’t do this without–”

“Please leave.” Ranboo’s voice was firm, stronger than they felt.

Dream rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t be like that. I’m trying to be friendly and–”

“I don’t care.”

The shift of emotions on Dream’s face was instant: gone was the false smile that didn't reach his eyes, gone was the easy stance. Dream tensed, frowned, and stood up from where he was leaning against the wall of the rink. He stared at Ranboo as if they were something in his way. He opened his mouth to speak–

“They said to leave.”

All of the tension in Ranboo faded the moment he heard Tubbo’s voice. They forced themself to not react; instead, he fixed a glare on the man in front of him. Tubbo approached cautiously, glancing between Ranboo and Dream.

“You’re not meant to be here, Dream.” Tubbo was tense, his tone barely concealing an undertone of deep anger: an emotion that Ranboo had never seen in him.

“Shut up, Tubbo .” Dream snapped. He didn’t shout, but his voice was raised and threatening. “I’m talking to my friend–”

“We aren’t friends, and I asked you to leave.” Ranboo stepped forward, his arms crossed as he dug his toe pick into the ice. “Leave, please.”

The three stood at a stand-still, the tension palpable in the air. Ranboo did their best to keep their eyes firmly on Dream, unwavering in his glare. Dream’s eyes flicked between Ranboo and Tubbo.

“Fine.”

He turned and stalked past Tubbo, who barely moved out of his way.

The swinging door slammed shut, and Ranboo flinched away from the sound. They took a breath, focusing on the way that his breath fogged in the air. 

When he looked away from the ice, Tubbo was standing in the same spot Dream had been, his eyes focused on Ranboo and waiting for them to say something. Ranboo crossed the little bit of distance between them, smiling at his friend as he approached.

“Hey Tubbo,” Their voice was soft, “Thank you for that.”

Tubbo blinked a few times, shook his head, and he smiled brightly, “Boo-man!” He held his arms out for a hug, and Ranboo compiled, ignoring the awkward angle as he hugged the shorter boy over the wall of the rink.

When the pair separated, Ranboo slid back a few feet, and leaned onto the sides of his skates as he thought of what to say.

“I didn’t know you or Tommy were coming today,” Ranboo stated, then turned away and stepped into a lazy spin.

Tubbo smiled as he spoke, “Just me.”

Ranboo nodded, returning the smile that Tubbo gave him, before hooking the side of his mask over his ear and letting it settle back into place.

They put more force into their next step and moved into a turn as he readied himself to return to practice. They moved fluidly, all the tension that was previously present fading the longer they skated. Under the mask, Ranboo frowned, his eyes flicked over to Tubbo every now and then.

Ranboo could not be sure of how long they skated before Tubbo spoke, his voice clear but quiet: “You can say no, but I have a favor to ask.”

Ranboo paused and let themself come to a slow stop beside the wall where Tubbo stood. He nodded for Tubbo to continue.

“I want to get Tommy back into skating,”

It was a simple statement, but Ranboo squinted. He crossed his arms and leaned back onto his toe pick. A part of them knew that Tommy had been involved in the sport at some point in his life; he was too good at correcting Ranboo’s form to just be a fan.

He frowned, “Tubbo I– I don’t–”

“Nevermind–” Tubbo shook his head and leaned away from the wall. The unscarred parts of his face flushed as he shook his head.

“Why can’t you just ask his dad?”

Ranboo didn’t really understand what was going on, but he still wanted to do his best to help. He waited for Tubbo to reply, and watched closely for a reaction as his friend shut his eyes and took a breath.

When he spoke, he seemed hesitant, “Tommy will say that it’s because Phil’s not his dad, but it’s–” He sighed heavily, “Tommy’s afraid that he’s going to get hurt again.”

“Again?”

This time, when Tubbo paused, it was longer and more unsure. He looked between his hands and Ranboo, and in turn, Ranboo just watched his friend, waiting for Tubbo to speak.

They stood in silence for a while: long enough that Ranboo almost turned back to continue skating, but then Tubbo began to speak, his voice soft.

“Did he not– do you not know what happened to Tommy?”

Ranboo shook their head, “No? Did he get hurt?” He shifted on the ice, “I mean, it’s pretty common with skating, it happens to most and–

“Tommy lost his leg in a car accident two years ago.”

To say that Ranboo’s heart dropped to their stomach would be an understatement.

He felt shaky, his knees buckled, and if not for the wall within reach Ranboo would have fallen to the ground. They dug their toe into the ice, and relied on that pressure as a steadying point while he wrapped his head around the idea of that being the reason why Tommy didn’t skate anymore.

Ranboo expected an injury, but he hadn’t expected anything like this.

“What? How–” His mouth clicked audibly shut, and he shook his head, all words feeling inconsequential in the scheme of things. “Tubbo, how–”

Tubbo shook his head, “If Tommy hasn’t told you, then it’s not really my place to say why and– and how–” His friend turns away, “I think I should go, I’m– I’m sorry–”

“No wait, Tubbo–” Ranboo reached out, and caught Tubbo’s arm before he could move farther away. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and walk away–”

Tubbo shook his head but didn’t pull away, “Forget I asked. Your program is starting to look great– you should–” He motioned to the ice with his free hand, then dropped his arm back to his side like it was dead weight. “I’m gonna go–”

Ranboo didn’t let go, and Tubbo didn’t pull away.

They stood at an impasse. Ranboo was fully aware that Tubbo would continue to push away the questions no matter what he tried to ask, but he didn’t need to know the full story behind Tommy and his leg. He just needed to know that Tubbo was alright.

“I’m gonna let go, but don’t walk away.” Ranboo loosened his grip, “I want to give you a hug, without the wall in the way.”

When Ranboo dropped his hold on Tubbo’s arm, he half-expected the younger boy to start walking away immediately, but he didn’t.

Ranboo moved quickly, sliding across the ice towards the door of the rink. He forwent putting on his blade guards in favor of pulling his friend into a tight hug. They stood there for a long time, Tubbo’s face pressed into Ranboo’s chest as he practically hung onto his friend, relying on them to keep him standing.

“Thank you for telling me,” Ranboo leaned back as he spoke, looking down at Tubbo with a faint smile on his face. “You don’t have to tell me anything else.”

Ranboo was curious—of course he was, how could he not be after learning that one of his new friends was an amputee—but he didn’t want to push Tubbo into anything outside of his comfort zone. So he smiled, and said it was okay, and knew that one day he’d get the rest of the story.

“Will you stay for the rest of my practice?”

Tubbo looked up, then glanced between the door that Dream had left through and his friend in front of him.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Ranboo’s practice lasted for a few hours.

He followed his usual schedule: warm-up, followed by whichever technical skill he was attempting to learn, followed by a few poor attempts at a triple axel, and finally a mark-through of his program, which was slowly becoming something more than just a set of vague ideas in his head.

All the while, Tubbo sat at the side of the rink and watched him with a distant look in his eyes and the faintest of smiles on his lips.

It was moments like this––when Ranboo finished their practice, moved to step off the ice, and felt the exhaustion deep in his bones––that he felt like he was still out of practice. He took a breath as he stepped outside of the rink’s walls and pushed away the want to continue his practice, fully aware that they had reached all that they were capable of for the day.

They smiled at Tubbo, then sat on the bench beside him, bending at the waist and pulling at the laces of their skates.

Ranboo couldn’t remember what day of the week it was, since his consistent schedule led to there being no need to really know. “Do you have homework?” He asked, glancing at Tubbo before looking back down at his skates. His hands were cold and shook slightly as he tried to hold them steady long enough to pick at the knots.

They pulled the left skate off first, followed by the right, then clipped the blade guards on before shoving them into his duffle bag.

Tubbo looked at his phone as Ranboo pulled on his sneakers, not lifting his gaze as he spoke. “A little. Tommy said something about going to Neimki’s and I didn’t give him an answer yet.” He turned to Ranboo expectantly.

“Is that an invitation?” Ranboo asked with a smile. He stood and pulled his bag onto his shoulder. Tubbo took a minute to stand, and glanced at Ranboo as they walked from through the double door out of the rink.

“Of course,” There was hesitation in his voice, “Are you going to mention what I–”

“No– no of course not,” He smiled, “Don’t worry Tubbo.”

Tubbo relaxed instantly, all of the tension draining from his body as his shoulders drooped and he sighed. Ranboo was half-aware of a mumbled thank you from under his breath, but they didn’t acknowledge it, instead focusing on getting the pair out of the building without either getting distracted.

Tubbo spoke again the moment they stepped outside, his head turned towards the opposite direction of their usual coffee shop. “I’ve got to go grab my bag, I’ll meet you there?”

There was still something strange between the two; the run in with Dream and Tubbo's favor still hung heavy in the air.

Ranboo smiled under his mask. “Course,” He nodded, “You want your usual?”

Tubbo smiled—his first genuine smile since the moment with Dream. “Yeah, thanks–” He took a step back, “I’ll see you there.” He turned away before Ranboo could come up with something to say back. Ranboo waited for a minute, watching him walk away, before they turned in the opposite direction and made their way towards the Tube.

It was a sunny day in London, and they were warm within minutes of stepping outside. Such a sunny day was not common, and as his bag sat firmly on his shoulder and his hands in his pockets, Ranboo decided on walking the entire distance to Neimki’s. It would be a shame to waste such good weather on a ride through the Underground.

They pondered for a moment whether they should put in some earbuds and focus on his need to find some program music, before he remembered that he had left his phone on his bedside table at his apartment.

They looked up from where they’d stopped to wait for a crosswalk, watching a dark cloud drift across the sky, and wondered whether he would come to wish he’d grabbed his umbrella when he’d left the house.

It wouldn’t be the first time he was left walking through the city without one. It was one of his doctor’s biggest frustrations.

Still, by the time Ranboo was halfway to the coffee shop, there was no rain in sight. He hesitated as he passed the next Underground entrance, bobbing his head from side to side as he weighed his options. After a moment, they stepped past it, bag tapping against his hip as he walked.

Ranboo had grown used to walking through the city. He thought of it as more of a home than America had ever been, and found himself comfortable falling into the stream of those that had lived here for longer than he ever would.

It was easy for Ranboo to pretend like he wasn’t more than he was here—as if they hadn’t been an Olympic trial candidate years ago, as if they hadn’t achieved half of the things they’d accomplished in their lifetime.

It was easy to fade into the background.

Ranboo was nearly there, the coffee shop within sight, when the first raindrop hit the top of his head. He picked up his pace subconsciously, steps unsteady as they hurried to the front door. He was nearly there when he stumbled.

Though, it wasn’t really a stumble. His knee buckled when he put weight on it, and a strange sensation of weightlessness passed over them as they pitched forward. Ranboo yelped, or at least he thought he did, his hands shooting out in front of him in a poor attempt at stopping himself from falling.

He winced when the concrete cut his palms.

Someone spoke to him, a voice in his ear accompanied by a hand on his elbow that pulled him to his feet. Ranboo wanted to react, but he was more focused on how his knees ached and his palms stung. Once he’d found his footing, he turned to face whomever it was that had helped him: a man just a little shorter than Ranboo with pink hair and a stern look.

The man had a nose ring—one of the ones that went through the middle part of his nose—and then a stud on each nostril. He frowned, then asked gruffly, “You alright? You need help getting somewhere?”

Ranboo was only half-aware of his vague reply: “No–” They winced again as they made a vague motion to the door behind the man, “I’m meeting some friends.”

The pink haired man glanced over his shoulder. He nodded, then stepped to the side, still watching Ranboo closely. Ranboo moved forward, fully aware of just how much their knees ached and the man’s eyes on him making sure he made it in.

Ranboo stepped through the door and waved at Niki, who smiled cheerfully and waved back. He took his place at the back of the line, lifting their hands to assess how bad the scrapes were. The damage didn’t seem to be as bad as it could have been. Ranboo brushed his palms against his pants, focusing instead on calming down.

They felt embarrassed, though he knew that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. They hadn’t fallen like that in a long time, and as he neared the front of the line he chalked the fumble up to just how tired he was after practice that morning.

“Hello, Ranboo!” Niki was behind the register, and she gave him her customary bright grin from where she’d propped her head on her hand and her elbow on the arm of her wheelchair. “What can I get for you today?”

Ranboo looked up at the menu, their eyes flicking across the dozens of options before he settled on his usual: “Can I get an iced latte?” He glanced back down at her, “And Tubbo wants a mocha, and Tommy’s coming too. He uh–” Ranboo paused and looked back at the menu, unsure what Tommy usually ended up getting.

“He usually has a cup of tea– milk and sugar.” Niki offered, hands poised to type it into the register.

Ranboo nodded, “That’s right.” He waited for Niki to nod before handing over their debit card. She passed it back after a moment, smiling up at him as the receipt printed.

“You look tired Ranboo, long morning?” She handed the receipt over and Ranboo signed it, then put their wallet back into his pocket. “Yeah–” he sighed, “Yeah, I just left practice.”

“Go on and sit, I’ll have someone bring your order to you.” Niki waved him away, then took hold of her wheelchair wheels and moved off before he could protest. He nodded to empty air, and crossed the shop to claim the trio’s usual table in the corner. 

They put their duffle bag under their chair, and a moment later, he removed his face mask, tucking it into his sweatshirt pocket.

Tubbo had already texted to say that he and Tommy were on their way, and Ranboo felt comforted knowing that Tommy hadn’t been bothered by Ranboo joining the pair at their usual coffee shop.

Just then, a man stepped into the shop: a familiar figure in a yellow sweater who smiled and greeted Niki with flourishing hands. Ranboo watched the conversation for longer than he should have. He recognized the man’s motions as sign language, but was unable to understand anything beyond that.

They turned away, brow furrowed as he tried and failed to place the familiarity in the man, entirely sure that he had seen him before.

One of Niki’s workers brought the three drinks to the table. They set them down and turned away before Ranboo could thank them. Ranboo cupped their hands around their drink, and winced as the condensation on the plastic cup stung at the scrapes on his palm. He was suddenly reminded of the fumble that had happened twenty minutes before.

They forced the fall from their mind; no use dwelling on something that had already happened. He’d just tired himself out too much that morning.

Probably.

They felt someone's eyes on them—not a malicious look, but a curious one: one that they were used to feeling. It took everything in Ranboo to not look up and meet their eyes. He pulled his iced latte closer to his chest, leaning forward and curling in on himself where his elbows met the table.

Ranboo winced as his back protested the hunched-over position, and chased the feeling away with a sip of his iced latte. The cold bit at their sensitive teeth.

Then someone stood beside him.

A large part of Ranboo wanted to ignore the stranger, hoping that he would walk away and Ranboo could avoid the interaction. Still, they arranged their face into a neutral expression, turned to look up, and were only mildly surprised to find the man in the yellow sweater standing there.

Ranboo forced a smile and wanted more than anything to be left alone.

Then the man began to sign, and all of it went over Ranboo’s head in an instant. The smile on their face twisted into a frown. He knew what one of the signs meant: when the man rubbed his fist in two circles on his chest, the sign for “please,” though that was through context clues more than an actual understanding of the language.

“Sorry I– I don’t–” They rubbed at the back of their head and leaned back, trying to convey their confusion without being rude. They attempted to speak clearly and loudly—not yelling, just louder: “I don’t know sign language.”

The man frowned in response and lifted his hands again. He made the universal gesture for pen and paper, his left acting as the “paper” and his right miming holding a pen.

Ranboo shook their head. They didn’t have a pen and paper, and despite the fact that this man looked nothing like a threat in his pastel yellow sweater, they did not want to just hand over their laptop to a complete stranger.

The man’s frown deepened.. He motioned towards Ranboo’s hand, and gestured for them to set their hand on top of his.

Ranboo did so.

He watched closely as the man began to trace letters on his palm, movements slow but precise. The first word was three letters: N… O… T… “Not?” Ranboo glanced up for confirmation, and the man nodded before continuing: D… E… A… F…

“Deaf? Not deaf?”

The man nodded again, and Ranboo felt a spike of embarrassment pass through him.

“Oh– uh– sorry for assuming.” They felt their cheeks burn from embarrassment. He looked back down at where the man held their hand, and waited for him to continue tracing.

L… O… O… K —they paused for confirmation— F… O… R —paused again— T… O… M…

“Look for Tom– Oh!” Ranboo’s neck twinged in protest at the speed at which he looked up. “You’re looking for Tommy?”

The man nodded excitedly, and Ranboo felt a spark of pride in his chest. “He’s with Tubbo–they should both be on their way here.”

Ranboo waited for the man to nod, then looked back down at their hands.

Y… O… U… nod.

A… R… E… nod.

R… A… N… B… O… O…? .

“Ranboo– question mark.” Ranboo nodded again, “Yeah– I’m a friend of Tommy and Tubbo’s.” Internally, Ranboo groaned in embarrassment. Obviously the man knew that; otherwise, he wouldn’t have come up to him in some random coffee shop. “And you’re–?”

He looked back down.

The man had to trace the name twice, and even then Ranboo couldn’t put the letters together. On the third time he spelled it, Ranboo said each letter out loud: “W–I–L–B–U–R–” They paused, then it clicked. “Oh! You’re Tommy’s other brother! It’s great to finally meet you, Tommy’s mentioned you a few times…” Ranboo trailed off and watched as the man began to trace again.

M… E… N… T… I… O… N… nod.

Y… O… U… nod.

T… O… nod. It was the wrong “too,” but Ranboo didn’t comment on that. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before, but it’s good to finally put a name to the face. I, uh–” Ranboo trailed off, unsure of what to say next. “Do you want to sit? With– with me? And Tommy and Tubbo when they get here?”

Wilbur nodded excitedly, and for a moment seemed to forget the slight communication barrier between him and Ranboo. He glanced over his shoulder, hands forming signs that Ranboo could not follow, before he turned away and crossed to the front of the store again.

Ranboo watched for a moment, before standing and taking a chair from the nearest empty table. The trio’s usual table typically had only three chairs, but he knew that Niki wouldn’t mind it if he borrowed one from another table.

When Ranboo looked up again, Wilbur was carefully crossing the room, both hands wrapped around the mug in his hands as he focused on not spilling his drink.

He settled in the chair opposite Ranboo, and the two sat in silence for a second as Ranboo waited for Wilbur to begin the conversation. They were half-expecting him to ask for their hand and to continue tracing on their palm, but then Wilbur pulled a pen and paper from his pocket. Ranboo grinned as he recognized Niki’s cursive on the first page as Wilbur flipped to a blank one.

Wilbur wrote carefully, using his left hand to hold the paper steady as his right held the pen tightly. When he’d finished writing, he tore the piece from the notebook and passed it across. Ranboo read it aloud in a soft voice: “ Are you the one who skates? ” He nodded and passed the paper back. “I am! I’ve been skating for a few…”

Ranboo trailed off as Wilbur started to write again. He passed the next scrap of paper to Ranboo. “ Tell me about it? ” They smiled, “Yeah! I’ve been skating since–”

Once they arrived at the coffee shop, that was how Tubbo and Tommy found the pair: slips of torn paper scattered across the table and laughter in both of their eyes.

Chapter Text

Tommy had grown up at an ice rink. He’d spent hours every day watching as his mum learned each skill, trained by a coach just as talented as she was. And later, when it’d been his turn to skate, it had been like a second home to him.

So, by extension, he should still love the sounds and feeling of being at any rink. Although the Antarctic Skate Rink was different from the rink he grew up in, the frigid air and the way it felt to sit on a metal bench watching skaters pass by on the other side of the barrier should be a comfort.

Emphasis on should.

But it wasn’t, and he didn’t feel comforted by the rink—at least, not on most days, and definitely not when he’d first moved in with the Minecrafts.

When he’d first moved in, he’d still used crutches, and his prosthetic had lived in a case that it only left when Tommy went to physical therapy. He had still been working through everything that had happened, and it was slow work, the “trying to figure out where he fit into the world.”

His trips to the rink hadn’t helped, but didn’t necessarily set him back either. Later, when he’d started to use his prosthetic regularly, he would walk with Techno into work and stop at the doors. It took him three months to actually enter the rink, and even then, he only made it as far as the lobby before claiming to be too tired to stay.

When he’d gotten Henry, things were easier.

She was amazing, helped ease the anxiety Tommy felt the moment he stepped through the doors, and actually gave him the freedom to pass through the doors into the rink space.

The first person he’d ever watched skate in his foster family was Wilbur.

Wilbur wasn’t a professional figure skater, that much had been obvious, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in excitement and love of the sport. He’d taught the littler kids, the four-to-six year olds who really only needed direction on how to not fall and how to balance on either foot.

But he had been great at it, so Tommy had started to come every Monday, Friday, and Saturday to watch him teach. That then extended to the late afternoons when Tommy would come with Tubbo to watch him skate.

He can remember the first time that he’d commented on how his friend was skating. Tommy had done it without thinking when he was propped on the wall of the rink, head on his hand as he tried not to fall asleep. He’d said something simple, and while he couldn’t remember what it was exactly, he could remember the gist of it: “You're holding too much tension, loosen up.” The effect was immediate: whatever skill Tubbo had attempted was landed perfectly.

From that point on, Tommy had felt more comfortable at the rink.

That hadn’t changed the fact that it took a lot for Tommy to enter the rink, and some days he couldn’t make it past the door. Tubbo was great with last minute changed plans and so was his foster family, both of them understanding that recovery was not an easy road.

When Tommy woke up that morning, he was already tired. He tried his best to breathe deeply, in through his nose, out through his mouth, and enough that his shoulders rose with every breath and lowered with every exhale. The cold air bit at his lungs and prodded at the back of his throat as he got dressed. He was downstairs within a few minutes, and despite his attempts at being relaxed, he was still visibly anxious.

Techno seemed like he wanted to comment on it––Tommy could see the question rising on his lips––but he didn’t, and instead said, “Henry’s already been out, and last I saw she was sittin’ in Dadza’s office.”

Tommy’s phone sat on the edge of the kitchen counter, still plugged in as it waited for him. He picked it up and hummed a thank you to Techno. Tommy left his phone downstairs more often than not, fully aware that if he kept it in his room he would be distracted by it and unable to finish his homework or go to bed.

“Dadza texted me this mornin’—he’s lookin’ for you at the rink.” Techno’s voice was soft. He knew how early mornings weren’t good for Tommy’s ability to regulate sensory input, so he was cautious of his volume. He pushed a tupperware container full of what looked like breakfast food across the table to Tommy. “I made breakfast, you can take it to go.”

Tommy pulled it close to him as he clicked the power button on his phone. “Thanks, Techno.” 

He had three unread messages: one from Tubbo, one from Phil, and one that he wasn’t going to even look at. Tommy smiled at Tubbo’s long-winded excited message about the grade he got back on an essay. Tommy’s response was full of exclamation marks and capital letters. 

Phil’s message was a little more controlled and used proper punctuation, something that Wilbur had attempted to correct on multiple occasions. Tommy shifted forward as he started to read it, leaning against the kitchen island as he put all of his weight onto his prosthetic leg.

Phil:

You coming to the rink today mate?

I want to meet that skater you’ve 

been on about.

Phil:

He’s here now, but if you’re not 

coming in I won’t try and talk

to him today.

Phil:

No pressure either way mate.

Phil:

Promise.

Tommy:

yeah im coming

Tommy:

they’ll be excited to meet a 

legend like you

Tommy replied to the messages before he clicked his tongue and called Henry from the office. Her paws clicked loudly on the floor as she ran towards Tommy. He grinned, and reached for her collar to hold her close.

Tommy loved Henry so much.

“I’m gonna go to the rink, Phil wants to meet Ranboo.” Tommy didn’t look up from where he was petting Henry as he spoke to Techno. He didn’t need to explain where he was going to Techno, but he wanted him to be aware. Tommy knew that Techno worried when he didn’t know where everyone was.

Techno grunted as a response, his eyes focused more on his book than on Tommy and Henry, but Tommy knew that he’d heard him.

Tommy started towards the front door, the tupperware container in one hand and phone in the other. Henry followed excitedly, her tail wagging and tongue lolling as she waited to see what came next. Tommy stuffed his phone into his pocket, set the tupperware container on the table by the door, and turned to face his service dog.

“Sit, Henry.” She sat and looked up at him with a smile, he couldn’t help but smile back. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you.” Tommy couldn’t kneel to give her a hug, so instead he patted his chest. “Hug.”

She leapt up easily, her head eye level with him. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Tommy found comfort in the action, and when he stepped back, she sat back down and looked up at him.

“Time to go to work, Henry.” He said the same thing every morning when he put Henry’s vest on her. Her tail wagged excitedly as he picked up the vest from where it sat on the shelf and presented it to her. She waited patiently as he bent over and strapped the vest to her with practiced hands and easy movements.

He clipped her leash onto the back of her vest as he stood and smiled. He praised her easily and scratched the spot just behind her ears that she loved so much. “Walk or Underground?” Tommy asked, as Henry had an opinion. She tilted her head to the side, watching as he pulled his backpack onto his shoulders and grabbed the tupperware box.

“Bye, Techno!” Tommy shouted obnoxiously loudly to his foster brother, his hand resting on the doorknob as he waited for Techno’s reply.

Techno’s call back was nowhere near as loud or excited: “Goodbye, gremlin child.”

Tommy could hear the grin in Techno’s words as he stepped through the front door and out onto the sidewalk. The walk to the rink was only a couple blocks, but somehow felt like far too much: he was cold, and his leg was already starting to act up.

Henry alerted him, her nose brushed against his hand. He nudged her away, his focus on putting one foot in front of the other instead of worrying. Tommy wanted to turn around and walk back home, but when he looked up, the sign for the rink was there, and it was too late to turn around.

Antarctic Skate Rink .

The bell above the door to the rink chimed loudly when he stepped in. Fundy, the receptionist, looked up from the desk and smiled. “Hey Tommy!” Tommy pushed a smile onto his face and waved back. Fundy glanced down at Henry, his face instantly lighting up though he made no attempts to actually interact with her. “Phil is in the office, you want me to get him for you?”

Henry alerted again, Tommy pushed her nose away. “Yeah that’d be great. I’m just gonna–” he waved in the direction of the private rink and didn’t wait for Fundy’s reply before he pushed the door open and stepped through.

Ranboo was already on the ice, hands in the air as he moved through a double Lutz. He landed on steady feet and moved around the edge of the rink backwards as they prepared for the next skill.

Tommy smiled at Ranboo as he caught their eye. He crossed to the side of the rink and set his backpack on the bench. Henry alerted again and Tommy patted her head in reply. He stepped up to the wall at the edge of the ice rink and leaned against it as he continued to watch Ranboo. 

The door opened and shut behind him, and Tommy didn’t have to look to know that it was Phil.

“Hey, mate.” Phil’s typical reply was softer than usual. He stopped a few feet away from Tommy and leaned against the wall, his attention split between Tommy on solid ground and Ranboo on the ice.

Tommy didn’t take his eyes off of Ranboo. “They’ve got a real chance, Phil.” He paused, “I think he’ll make it through the qualifiers at least.”

This was Phil’s area of expertise: coaching and knowing a skater's potential. Tommy knew that, but it didn’t stop him from using this moment to gush over his friends abilities.

“That your professional opinion?” There was no teasing in Phil’s voice, only genuine curiosity.

“Yep.” Tommy nodded, mentally commenting on Ranboo’s form and an adjustment he needed to recommend when they stopped skating. “The injury took him out of commission for a year, but he’s stayed on top of his PT and waited the recommended amount of time–” Henry nudged him again, “–before starting to skate again. They’re taking it slowly, but his program is starting to come together.”

Phil nodded, his eyes flicking down to look at Henry before he turned back to the ice. “Who’s his coach? I haven’t seen anyone with him the past few times I’ve been…” Philza trailed off and leaned forward. His eyes followed Ranboo’s movements closely.

Tommy rolled his shoulders and shifted. His eyes moved from Ranboo to Philza, the reply easy, “He doesn’t have one. He used to be pretty famous and almost qualified, but then he got hurt.” He kept his words and tone light, trying not to draw attention to the comparisons between his friend and himself.

Tommy shifted again. Henry nudged his leg.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Phil looked concerned. “Come sit down, can you tell me more?”

He moved without further prompting, and the moment that Tommy was seated, Henry’s head was on his knee. His hands moved on their own accord as he scratched just behind her ears. “They got hurt and couldn’t qualify anymore, kinda like m–you.”

Phil looked reminiscent, and his hand on his cane tightened as he thought. “He was that kid– the Ender Prince, right?”

Tommy smiled brightly, his hand digging into the fur on Henry’s head. “Yeah, yeah– I think he could do it Phil.”

The air between them was heavy, the only sound coming from Henry’s breathing and Ranboo’s skates moving across the ice. Tommy could practically see the way the gears turned in Phil’s head as he contemplated Tommy’s words.

“Not without a coach, he won’t.”

Tommy looked up at Phil, “They’ve got me, and they’re pretty good on their own.” But though his words were confident, Tommy knew that even with the level of skill and experience that he possessed, there was plenty that he didn’t know.

Phil was right, even if Tommy didn’t want him to be.

The idea to ask Phil to be Ranboo’s coach wasn’t a new one for Tommy. He had thought about it in the past multiple times, but this was the first time that he even considered actually bringing it up to his foster dad.

“You could be his coach, Phil?” He meant it genuinely, but the moment the words left Tommy’s mouth, he felt anxious. His hands started to shake and his heart began to race. Tommy began rambling, “You’ve still got it, and I think Ranboo would like to have someone further along than me cause––well, I mean–– you are really old Phil and––”

Phil snorted.

“You’ve got all that old man wisdom––”

“Okay okay,” He laughed and patted Tommy’s shoulder, “Cool it with the old jokes. I’ll talk to him–”

Tommy reacted immediately. His hand pressed into Henry’s back, “Brace.” She stood firm to help him stand. “I’ll get their attention.”

As Tommy pushed onto Henry’s back to stand, he could feel Phil hovering, an elbow extended to him casually. Two years ago, Tommy would have been frustrated and pushed himself to stand on his own, but now, he didn’t hesitate before he reached out to grab Phil’s elbow. He accepted the help without hesitation,and only released Phil’s elbow when he was sure he was stable on his own.

“Bossman!” Tommy shouted louder than he needed too.

Ranboo completed his turn and approached the wall, their skates kicking up a spray of snow as they stopped themself. “Hey, Tommy,” He adjusted the gloves on his hands, “What's up?”

Tommy glanced at Phil, before looking back at Ranboo. “Two things:” He leaned against the wall, “You're under-rotating your Lutz—try dropping your shoulder a bit more when you go into the move, it’ll help carry your momentum.”

Ranboo blinked, once, twice, before he stepped back and marked through the Lutz. They didn’t move very far, but did mime the movements. Ranboo nodded, “Got it, thanks.”

“And the other thing: this is Phil.” Tommy paused again as he nodded his head in the direction of Phil. “My uh–” He felt at a loss for words as he attempted to define who Phil was, “Foster parent.”

He waited for Ranboo’s reaction. It wasn’t like Tommy had ever sat Ranboo down to tell him that he was in foster care, it was just one of those things that had never come up.

Ranboo took the new information in stride. They smiled, and stepped closer to the wall, “I’m Ranboo, it’s nice to meet you sir.”

Phil shook his hand, “You can call me Phil.”

The silence between the three was heavy, and Tommy struggled with what to say next.

“Tommy told me that you’ve got some real potential.” Phil smiled as he spoke, and leaned against the wall next to Tommy. 

Ranboo smiled, “I like to think so.”

Phil nodded, “He also mentioned you might be looking for a coach?” It was phrased as a question, which gave Ranboo the space to accept or deny.

The skater hesitated. “Uh, yeah– a– sort of?” They paused and took a deep breath. They glanced at Tommy before they continued, “I come up with the routine high points, Tommy helps with transitions and presentation, Tubbo helps pick music.”

It wasn’t an answer, but rather an explanation. Something in Tommy’s chest grew warm with the admission that his comments and interjections were helpful to Ranboo.

Ranboo looked down at the ice as he attempted to put his words together. “I think I need a coach in the ‘I need an adult who knows more than me to make sure things look good and are technical enough’ sort of way,” He paused, “And maybe for commentary on how to make a skill work better?”

Tommy looked at Phil as he waited for his reaction.

Phil smiled, radiating a feeling of comfort and encouragement in the way that only a parent could do. “I can do that.”

“Then welcome to the team, Phil.”

Chapter Text

For Ranboo, there was a familiarity to skating: the way their skates carved paths into the ice and the ache settled deep in their joints. The freezing air that bit at his chest with every inhale was something that he never got used to, but it felt like they’d actually accomplished something when they walked away with sore muscles, a stitch in their side, and burning lungs. He sought out the aching, exhausted limbs, as well as the deep sleep that came after a long practice session on the ice.

But, there was also a familiar frustration that accompanied his once-weekly skill focused sessions.

Those sessions were the days where he spent hours on one skill until he accomplished it, spending hours throwing himself into each movement, leap after leap, only to under rotate, stumble, or, the rare few times, fall hard onto the unforgiving ice.

Though he’d grown familiar with the feeling of hitting the ice over the last few weeks, his attempts at a triple axel had led to more falls than completed attempts.

“You’re holding back when you make the jump.”

Ranboo looked up from where his eyes were tracing the lines that his failed triple axel had carved into the ice. Techno stood on the side of the rink, his pink hair pulled back in a braid and his many piercings reflecting the bright rink lights. He leaned casually against the rink wall, though Ranboo could see the curiosity in his eyes even across the distance.

Ranboo’s own eyes focused on the ice, the snow speckled ground that they couldn’t seem to land steadily on. He pushed his gloved palms into the ice as leverage to help him stand.

“Got it.”

They wanted to be finished, to go home to their warm bed and takeaway meal and sleep until noon tomorrow. However, he also knew that Techno was right: they held themself back with every attempt to throw themself into the air.

Ranboo spun lazy circles as they thought through the beginning of the movement.

Then, he took a breath and began.

The beginning of the triple axel was muscle memory at this point: he moved through with ease, only to stumble when he actually threw himself into the air.

Whether it was an imperfection on the ice or simply his exhaustion, the stumble made him fall once again. Ranboo resisted the urge to groan in frustration.

“Try and throw yourself into it.” Techno paused in his commentary, “If you fall, you fall. But Ranboo,” Ranboo looked up, “You need to put everythin’ into this jump––you’re still holding back.”

They nodded.

Still, their frustration grew with every failed attempt as Ranboo threw himself into the movements again.

And again.

And again .

Each time ended with him either on the ice or nearly there.

“I’m done.” Ranboo could barely conceal the disappointment in his voice as he spoke. They made no effort to stand from the ice, and instead pulled at the gloves on his hands, their fingers shaking as they tried and failed to pull at the velcro.

They sighed heavily.

There had been no expectation of completing the skill in one skating session, or two, or even three. But the more sessions that ended with more falls to the ice than actual completed jumps, the more Ranboo wanted to just forget that the skill existed and move on to the next one.

They could feel Techno’s eyes on them from their spot on the ice. The ache in his bones settled deeper the longer he made no efforts to stand. 

“Has Tommy ever seen you try a triple?” There was no condescension in Techno’s voice, just curiosity.

Ranboo set his gloves on the side of the ice and picked at the laces of his skates. “Maybe once.”

Techno hummed, “What does he say to you––or Tubbo––any time either of you try to learn somethin’ new?”

Ranboo paused in their picking and sighed. “He says to break it down.”

Techno didn’t reply, but Ranboo looked up to find him looking at them expectantly. “Well?” Techno motioned for him to continue.

Ranboo nodded as he stood and rolled his shoulders. He picked up his gloves, throwing them in Techno’s direction and not waiting to see if he caught them. He began moving through the motions of the jump and speaking as he did so, explaining the movements even though he was aware that Techno knew exactly what they were.

“Preparation.” They skated in a wide circle, their movements slow as they pretended to move through the skill. “I start on the left outside edge of my skate, flex my hip, throw myself into the jump, tilt through the air–”

“But not too far.” Techno commented, his eyes followed Ranboo’s movements closely.

Ranboo nodded and rolled his wrist. “It’s an estimated three hundred rotations per minute to complete the three and a half rotations necessary for the movement, before I land on my right foot–” Ranboo frowned, “Which means I land with four times my body weight on my right leg– my previously injured right leg.”

They took a deep breath.

“Easy-peasy.” The sarcasm hung like snow in the cold air between the two.

Techno nodded, “And what does Tommy say to do next?”

“Mark it out.”

Ranboo nodded and began.

They started slowly. He moved across the ice, backwards first before flipping his hip and shifting his weight onto the front half of his skate. The movement pushed him into a fast forward-facing skate before he threw himself into the air.

There was an incredible amount of force necessary to complete this jump–– to rotate the perfect amount of times at the right height and to land at the proper angle on a four millimeter thick blade.

But Ranboo wouldn’t second guess himself, not this time.

They breathed in. The breath stung their lungs.

They breathed out. Everything else was forgotten.

They breathed in, and the moment his skate left the ice, they felt like time had slowed down.

They felt weightless as they moved through the air, their arms tucked tight against their chest. A breath passed through his lips.

Then they landed on the ice with their right foot, his leg bent at the knee, and felt the weight of all of his gained centripetal force pushing down onto his knee and hip.

They didn’t fall.

Ranboo was vaguely aware of just how loud Techno cheered.

They threw their hands into the air, and their joy was tangible. The sheer excitement from the success of the jump burned brightly.

“I did it!” Ranboo jumped without thinking and fell to the ice, but not even that mattered. “I did a triple axel !”

It was a skill that not many could manage.

Ranboo felt the cold of the ice under them as he laid down and splayed his arms by his sides. A sense of peace and excitement sat in the air as he recognized what he had just accomplished.

Then, not for the first time, Ranboo thought of their moms, and a sense of sadness settled over them.

Their moms, who didn't get to see this progress.

Their moms, who would be so proud to learn he could perform the illusive triple axel.

Their moms, who weren’t there anymore.

And then Ranboo felt alone, though he knew he wasn’t.

Not when Techno stood across the ice, still cheering about what he had just completed, his voice echoing in the empty rink. Not when Tommy and Tubbo were just a phone call away.

The feeling of being alone disappeared the longer Techno cheered.

His moms would be proud.

“Ranboo!” Techno laughed as he spoke, and Ranboo sat up in response. “I don’t know what you did differently that time, but you need to remember that when you skate.”

Ranboo snorted and let their eyes fall to the ice, focusing on the divot that the foot they’d landed on had carved into it.

The weight of the words he wanted to speak hung heavy in the air. The excitement drained away as Ranboo sat up and leveled at Techno with a heavy gaze.

Ranboo stood slowly, and dug his toe pick into the ice to ground himself.

Techno seemed to sense that Ranboo had something to say. He stood a bit straighter, bracing his hands on the wall of the rink and regarding Ranboo with what felt like thinly-veiled concern, “I won’t push you to tell me–”

“I’m sick, Techno.” The words left his mouth in a rush, all of the anxiety that had been building for the past year coming out in a cluster of words he shouldn’t say. “It’s a– a newer thing, And I-I haven’t told anyone, but–”

A lump formed in the back of his throat.

“Rheumatoid arthritis and interstitial lung disease.” They cleared their throat before they continued. “I–it’s making life– a lot harder. I might have to uh– take a step back? From skating? And sometimes I use a nasal cannula and– and there are so many doctor visits”.

Tears had sprung up in Ranboo’s eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t blink them away.

“Oh Ranboo–” There was the want to apologize in Techno’s voice, Ranboo could hear it. “I’m so–”

“Don’t.” Ranboo stepped back and almost lost balance. He looked down at where his toe pick met the ice. “Don’t say you’re sorry– I don’t–” They shook their head, “I don’t want pity. I don’t– I can do this, Techno.”

He looked up, “I need to do this.” Ranboo paused. “Skating means so much to me.”

The weight of everything that he wanted sat heavy in his throat. Ranboo dug the heels of his palms into his eyes in an attempt to will himself not to cry.

“And you can.” Techno’s voice didn’t waver. “And you will.”

Techno’s confidence in Ranboo didn’t change the months of anxiety that had been building, but it helped.

“Thank you Techno, that means– that means so much to me.” Ranboo was being completely honest.

“Ranboo. You can do this–” Techno motioned to the ice around them, to Ranboo’s skates, to where Ranboo stood. “–but not alone. I think–”

Ranboo shook their head. “You can’t tell anyone.” He took a deep breath, “Not Phil, or Tommy, or Tubbo. This– this stays between us .”

Techno looked like he wanted to protest, but sighed. “Okay. I won’t.”

“Thank–”

“But.” Techno continued, “I don’t want you goin’ through this alone. So, if you’re willing, I want you to tell me about doctors appointments. Every time you get news––good or bad––I get to know, because I want to know. Because you need someone on your side, Ranboo.”

Ranboo nodded, an emotion he couldn’t place starting to build in his chest. They opened their mouth to agree, only for Techno to continue.

“Because–Ranboo, Tommy’s got his leg, and Philza’s got his cane, but they’ve got me and Wilbur and each other now and–” Techno looked at Ranboo, “I don’t want you to go through this alone.

A tear rolled down Ranboo’s cheek as he nodded in agreement, and he wiped it away.

“Deal?” Techno held out his hand.

Ranboo nodded again, “Deal.”

He closed the distance between him and the edge of the rink, hand extended to shake Techno’s as a confirmation. Techno pulled Ranboo into a hug which was only slightly awkward with the wall and the difference in height. He patted Ranboo’s back, obviously not used to showing comfort like this.

When Techno stepped back, he nodded towards the ice.

“Good.” He grinned, “Now, come on– do another triple axel.”

Ranboo smiled, then stepped back and began again.

Chapter Text

There was always a certain amount of excitement associated with an ice skating competition.

Tommy could remember each time that he’d skated and how the anxiety that he’d had leading up to competing was always overshadowed by the excitement of stepping onto the ice and throwing himself into his performance.

He remembered the tension in the air, the way that the ice cold bit at his skin and hands and numbed the nerves that twisted just under his skin. If Tommy tried to remember, he could recall the last time he was at a competition before his accident.

It was a happy day, but not one that he thought about often.

In fact, since his accident, Tommy tried to very specifically not think about those days—not because they were difficult to remember or because he felt sad when he tried to, but more so because he knew they were something he could never have again.

But that was before he’d met Ranboo.

Before Ranboo but after his accident, Tommy’d had no chance of even being present at a competition. The few acquaintances that he still had within the ranks of competing skaters were not ones that he was close enough with to consider attending the competitions to see them skate. That was especially true when the competitions were over an hour away and the videos of performances were available online within a few hours.

Before Ranboo, Tommy had never considered being a coach, because in his mind he was not trained enough—wasn’t good enough. Who would want a seventeen year old coach when skaters like Phil existed?

But then he met Ranboo, who hung onto every word that Tommy said when it came to performing on the ice.

So when Ranboo first suggested the idea of entering into a national level figure skating competition, Tommy was ecstatic and immediately encouraged them. The idea of Ranboo experiencing the excitement that he felt overpowered any gut reactions that Tommy’d had.

And then, the day before the competition, Tommy realized what being Ranboo’s coach meant.

Tommy would be in, or at least near, the spotlight again, which he had convinced himself would never happen after his accident. He would stand there, on the side of the rink with the commentators' words ringing in his ears, as he mentally picked apart every carve of Ranboo’s skates.

He would have to allow himself to be seen, after years of fading to the background.

Tommy knew that he had started to frustrate Techno and Wilbur with his fidgeting, the three of them had stuck together since they arrived at the competition, and even now after they had already walked away, he still couldn’t seem to make his hands take a break.

Tommy stood at the edge of the competition skate rink, hands tangled around his I.D. badge as his eyes watched for Ranboo.

“Tommy.” Phil’s voice cut through Tommy’s distracted staring, “Leave it be, you’ll break it.”

Tommy sighed dramatically in response, but listened and dropped his hands from his lanyard. 

It was just the pair of them and Henry at the side of the rink. Tubbo was with Ranboo as he got ready, and Techno and Wilbur had wandered off to find a seat. Phil wanted to say something—Tommy could tell—but he held back and leaned against the wall of the rink, surveying the other competitors with a critical, well-trained eye.

“Maybe you should go take a seat, just for a minute.” Phil’s suggestion was soft, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the skaters warming up on the ice. Phil kept glancing down at Henry, “You look antsy, it would help.”

Tommy wanted to disagree, but he knew Phil was right: his hands shook, and his phantom knee was hurting. Henry had already alerted a few times, and she sat with her back pressed against the back of his prosthetic, forcing him to bend his leg and relieve the pressure that he could feel growing.

Tommy didn’t reply to Phil’s comment, and instead distracted himself by looking more closely at the competitors in front of him. There was a range of skill levels that Tommy could analyze—maybe if he forced himself to focus enough, he could distract himself from the anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach.

There was something in the air, a feeling that grew the longer he watched the skaters in front of him.

Tommy could feel the panic growing before it began.

He started pulling on the lanyard.

Henry nudged him again.

Techno’s voice cut through the sounds echoing around Tommy and Phil, but Tommy couldn’t make himself focus on his foster brother's voice. He leaned against the wall of the rink, hands gripping the lanyard like a lifeline.

“Toms–” 

Tommy hummed and turned his head towards Phil, but his eyes didn’t leave the ice.

“I have to go check on something for Ranboo, will you come with me?” If Tommy had been looking, he’d have seen the worry in Phil’s eyes. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t.

“I’ll stay here.” He dropped the hold on his lanyard and instead took hold of the wall, ignoring the way his knuckles turned white from how tight he held it. Tommy’s eyes were still on the rink. He breathed in the cold air deeply and watched as a competitor landed a beautiful loop jump.

Tommy could not be sure how long he stood there. It was long enough for his hands to start to ache from where they gripped the wall, but not long enough for Phil to finish talking with Ranboo and make his way back over.

There was a skater on the ice that looked familiar.

Tommy ignored him in favor of watching the other skaters. “Where’s Ranboo?” His voice was barely above a whisper and directed at Henry, who looked up at him with her head tilted. She looked away and nudged him again, alerting him to the approaching figure. Tommy followed her eyes. “Good girl, Henry.” He patted her head as Wilbur approached.

Wilbur’s signing was muddled by the gloves he wore, but Tommy got the gist. The pointing and cursing really made the importance known, “Fuck off Wilby–”

Tommy had seen Wilbur sign quickly, but nothing matched the energy and excitement of him pulling off his gloves to rapidly sign out, “ Did you just call me W-I-L-B-I?” The question mark was drawn at the end of the sentence, to put emphasis on how eager Wilbur was to know the answer.

“No.” Tommy shook his head and turned to face Wilbur fully, he lifted his hands to finger spell, “I called you W-I-L-B-Y . There’s a difference.”

Tommy looked away and braced himself for the nudge that followed immediately after his comment. Tommy could see the furious movements of the joking rant that Wilbur’s hands made and the smile that accompanied it out of the corner of his eye. He waited for the hands to slow to a stop before holding up a simple sign of his own: thumb out, pointer finger extended, pinky finger extended, middle and ring finger folded over.

I love you.

Wilbur grabbed his hand and shook it side to side, his own version of “me too.”

When Wilbur dropped Tommy’s hand, he looked back at the ice.

And then Tommy’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Tommy’s first thought was that he shouldn’t be there.

His next was that he wasn’t safe.

Henry alerted more aggressively, jumping up and pawing at his arm. All Tommy could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in ears. His hands were shaking, and his breath came out in pants.

Tommy moved slowly, sinking down to his knees, as his back turned to press against the wall of the ice rink. He could see Wilbur signing furiously, the same sign over and over again: his right pointer finger pressed into the side of his left hand, before he flipped his left hand and rested the same finger on the point where his thumb turned into his other pointer finger. “ Tommy– Tommy– Tommy–”

Henry settled across Tommy’s legs, with her head resting on his shoulder and her chest pressed into his as she forced him to take slower breaths.

Everything in the rink faded into the background. Tommy’s hands shook where he gripped Henry’s harness, his eyes unfocused and staring into the empty space in front of him.

Someone knelt in that space, tall limbs bending and folding to make themself smaller. Wilbur took a step back, and Ranboo leaned forward, their hand resting on the spot that Tommy was staring at.

There was an interaction between Ranboo and Wilbur that Tommy missed, his hands digging into the material of Henry’s harness, his eyes starting to water the longer he held them open.

And Tommy knew he was humming: one long aggressive note that cut through the conversation of gestures and confusion between Ranboo and Wilbur. 

Dream was here .

A hand reached out to touch him, hovering over where Tommy held Henry’s harness. Tommy lifted his hand to meet Ranboo’s and gripped their hand like it was a lifeline. In response, they folded themself into the space just beside Tommy.

Henry shifted to allow Ranboo the space to wrap an arm around Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy pressed into Ranboo’s side. He focused on the feeling of Henry on his stomach, the way that Ranboo’s arm rested around his shoulder. He focused on how his hands felt, his left clasped in Ranboo’s and his right holding tight to around Henry’s harness.

He grounded himself in the physical aspect of being held.

Tommy breathed deeply. He forced his ribs to expand to their farthest point, pulling in air deeply before letting it out slowly. He pushed his breath into a pointed stream and set the goal for himself of disturbing the fur on the top of Henry’s head with every exhale.

His eyes closed for what felt like the first time, and the burn from holding them open faded slowly.

A voice spoke in his ears, the words comforting as he felt his heart rate slowly relax.

The image of the man that set him off passed through his mind, he forced himself to ignore it.

“Three breaths.” Tommy’s voice was barely above a mumble, the words meant only for himself. “Three breaths and then I’m not allowed to think about him .”

The first was drawn in shakily and released smoothly, and the fur on the top of Henry’s head shifted with the exhale.

The second breath in was accompanied by a sharp pang of fear at the thought of Dream seeing him, though that fear quickly dissolved with the realization that Tommy was surrounded by people who would keep him safe.

The third breath in was when he opened his eyes for the first time. The breath was released easily, all thoughts pushed from his mind as he noticed Phil standing nearby. He was picking at the handle of his cane as he watched Tommy closely.

The fourth breath was normal, an easy inhale and exhale.

When Tommy spoke this time, it was directed to Ranboo: “Can you talk, please?”

He needed to draw his senses back into focus. His eyes didn’t move from where Phil picked at his cane, and he listened closely for Ranboo’s words.

“I started skating when I was seven.” As Ranboo began to speak, Tommy released the death grip he’d had on Henry’s harness and instead started to scratch at the back of her head in time with Ranboo’s words. “I started skating because my moms were always at the rink, and I can just barely remember watching them skate every day.”

Ranboo’s story was similar to Tommy’s.

Ranboo sighed happily, Tommy could see the smile in his mind, his eyes still focused on Phil and his cane.

“My moms’ favorite flower was alliums, so mine are too. They are these pretty puff ball flowers–”

Tommy felt Ranboo shift.

“They mean strength and patience and good fortune and–” they paused, “My moms had bouquets of them at their wedding. I always think of my moms whenever I see them. I think about how much my moms helped me with skating and with– with living.”

They laugh softly, a sort of sad-happy laugh that makes Tommy’s lips turn up slightly in response.

“I mean, they are the reason why I’m here. It was my moms’ dream in life to move to London–” Ranboo paused again, Tommy shifted slightly and rested his head on Ranboo’s shoulder. “I moved here when I was sixteen– just a few months after I turned sixteen.”

Tommy hummed, all tension seeped out of his body. “Thank you, Ranboo.”

Ranboo looked down at him, “Are you– Are you okay?” They paused again, “You don’t have to tell me why, if you don’t want to, I just want to make sure you are okay?” It was phrased as a question, but Tommy knew that Ranboo was being genuine.

“There is–” Tommy paused and blinked slowly, trying to figure out where to start. His head felt heavy, his words felt difficult to get out. “When Phil first started fostering me– I wasn’t in a great place mentally, and–”

He paused and shut his eyes.

Tommy wanted to share, but that didn’t make things easier to say.

“There was this guy who said he was my friend, and he was nice. But then sometimes he was mean– and,” he took a deep breath, “It was a really confusing time for me. And– I thought I saw him, just now? Or maybe I did see him? And I haven’t seen him in a long time–”

“So you panicked.” Tommy could feel Ranboo nod their head, “It happens.”

Tommy opened his eyes and looked up, first at Ranboo and then at Phil, who looked a lot less worried now that Tommy was calming down. “Thank you, Ranboo.” He paused, “Thank you for calming me down– for helping me.”

“Always.” Ranboo smiled at him, “I’ll always be there for you, coach .”

It was said with a teasing grin.

Tommy returned the smile.

Chapter Text

The feelings that follow a panic attack are almost always the same; a sort of distanced approach to the world, like he looked at everything through cloudy lenses. His senses are dulled, which is usually helped by headphones and soft music–Tchaikovsky, specifically.

Tommy allowed himself to be pulled to his feet almost fifteen minutes after his panic attack ended, the distance from the ground to standing felt immense, he tightened his hand around Henry’s harness and relied on her to keep him vertical.

“I need to go warm up…” Ranboo sounded unsure of whether that was a good idea.

Tommy nodded, he took a step towards Phil. “Phil’s got me.”

It wasn’t a question.

He could hear the smile in Phil’s voice when he replied, “Of course I do Toms.”

Tommy knew how competitions were meant to progress, and no matter how much he wanted to give some sort of heartwarming speech right now about how Ranboo was going to do great, he also really wanted to sit down.

“I’ll see you in a bit Tommy.” It was said with one last smile, Ranboo turned and walked towards the ice, their steps sure and confident.

Tommy turned to Phil and closed the distance between him and his foster parent, he sought comfort, which Phil easily provided. His foster parent wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Come on Tommy, let’s go outside yeah?”

Phil led Tommy through the staging area easily, one hand wrapped loosely around Tommy’s free wrist and the other held his phone, where he texted someone one handed. Tommy didn’t question it and instead focused most of his attention on the effort in putting one foot in front of the other.

“Tubbo and Wilbur are gonna meet us outside.” Phil’s voice was soft, his tone cautious as he led Tommy. “Wilbur brought his backpack– did you remember yours?”

There was silence immediately following the question as Tommy processed what his Foster dad was asking, “No?” Tommy pulled his hand from Phil’s and paused, his hand reached for the straps that should be on his shoulders, backpack straps he only just realized weren’t there. “I forgot.”

“That’s alright mate, it happens.” Phil smiled encouragingly and patiently waited for Tommy to continue walking.

Tommy stood still, his face turned into a frown.

The world still felt so distant, Henry nudged his leg slightly. Tommy stepped forward, “How long until Ranboo skates?”

Phil glanced at his watch, “An hour.” He pushed the door to the street open, “Plenty of time for you to take a breather outside with headphones on, while I go supervise Ranboo.” His tone of voice suggested that there was no room for debate.

Tommy allowed Henry to pull him towards the free bench on the edge of the sidewalk. He sat easily, his hands dug back into the space under her harness.

The warmer air of London was a comfort, it easily knocked off the chill that the rink had left him with, Tommy basked in the warmth of the sun that just barely passed through the thick cloud cover above the skyline.

Phil stood a few feet away. He acted as a shield and when Wilbur and Tubbo exited the building, Wilbur joined the shield. They whispered to each other, hands moving in a flourish as Phil gave context and Wilbur asked for answers.

Tubbo smiled down at Tommy, “Hey Toms–” He offered a pair of earplugs, Tommy waved them off.

“I want to listen to the cars.” Tommy explained, he tilted his head back, his eyes fell shut. Tubbo joined him on the bench.

“I can’t hear them from here.” It wasn’t a complaint, just a statement. “I forget how well people can hear.” There was a lighthearted tone to Tubbo’s statement that made Tommy smile in response.

Tommy doesn’t know how long he and Tubbo sat there.

Long enough that Phil left to check on Ranboo and Wilbur joined the two younger boys on the bench.

Long enough for Henry to lay down between Tommy’s foot and prosthetic.

Long enough for the world to come back into focus.

“Can–can we go back inside now?” Tommy’s voice cracked from disuse. “I want to make sure I don’t miss Ranboo’s program.” Some part of him also wanted to avoid the anxiety that came with entering a full room while still sensitive to overstimulation.

Wilbur tapped in his direction, Tommy looked at him.

His foster brother pointed at him, before opening his left hand and setting his right hand vertically on top, pinky down. “ You’re sure? ” Wilbur drew the question mark with his pinky for emphasis.

Tommy nodded, “I don’t want to miss Ranboo’s program.” He didn’t mind that he had to repeat himself. He stood and clicked his tongue to get Henry’s attention.

Tubbo made a noise, Tommy turned to him. “Usually, after having a panic attack, you’re not really ready to–uh–be around a lot of people?” Tubbo said it as if it was a question, “But I had an idea for that.”

He held out a pair of noise canceling headphones and his phone screen out. There was a website pulled up, Tommy stepped closer to look.

“It’s the stream for the competition, you could wear these–” Tubbo moved the hand holding the headphones or emphasis, “And listen to what the commentators have to say, while watching Ranboo skate?”

Tommy smiled, “You’re a genius Tubbo.” He wasn’t kidding. Tommy accepted the offered headphones and pocketed Tubbo’s phone.

“I’ll get my phone back at the end.” Tubbo smiled, pleased with himself for his plan. “Right–” He started towards the door.

Wilbur stepped up beside Tommy and hooked his arm through the arm not holding Henry’s leash. They walked through the hallways together, following behind Tubbo. Wilbur held his free hand out, practiced hands replicating Tommy’s sign from earlier easily: thumb out, pointer finger extended, pinky finger extended, middle and ring finger folded over.

I love you .

Tommy smiled as he grabbed Wilbur’s hand and shook it side to side. “Me too Wilby.”

The next series of signs was harder to complete one handed, but Wilbur made it look easy. He pointed at himself with his free hand, before closing his hand into a fist, thumb extended and moved it in circular motions towards himself. Wilbur ended by pointing at Tommy.

I’m proud of you .

Warmth spread through Tommy at the words, he replied in sign; his hand four fingers pressed against his chin before moving towards Wilbur. Thank you .

They reached the rink a few minutes later and Wilbur dropped his arm.

“I’ll see you two later.”

Tubbo and Wilbur smiled encouragingly before they turned away. 

Tommy took a deep breath and settled the headphones over his ears, he pressed play on the commentary and stepped through the door.

The difference in volume with the noise canceling headphones on was appreciated. Tommy could feel the loudness of the crowd as he weaved his way through the coaches standing in the wings of the rinks.

He found Phil easily, he smiled as he settled next to the older man. 

Phil signed to him instead of speaking: a point to Tommy, and then a fingerspelled ‘o’ and ‘k.’

Tommy nodded easily, he turned towards the rink.

He could see Ranboo on the far side of the rink as they shook out their shoulders and hands. They removed their thin jacket as Tommy raised the volume of the commentators in his headphones, just as the announcer spoke over the PA system:

“ And next, Ranboo Beloved, skating their free program to “Art on Ice” by Edvin Marton .”

Tommy cheered loudly as Ranboo stepped onto the ice, he watched as they took the usual long turn around the ice, showing off the costume that they had designed. They were clad in a purple and white ice skating costume, the colors moved beautifully under the lights. They came to a stop at the center, his left arm raised above his head as his right was in a slightly bent position beside them. The stance was similar to the fourth position in ballet.

The commentators began to speak.

“ It is so exciting to see Ranboo Beloved again after all these years .” When the first commentator began, Tommy recognized them as Punz–an American commentator who had a lot of opinions. “ For those who don’t know, the masked skater currently on the ice is Ranboo Beloved, a relatively well known skater who fractured their hip a few years back .”

Tommy nodded along to Punz, as if the commentator could see him.

The second began to speak, and once again, Tommy recognized the voice as Shelby Shubble, someone relatively familiar to the commentary world, but nonetheless knowledgeable. “ An American who has been living in London for most of their teenage years. An impressive skater– I’m excited for what we will see here today .”

The music began.

“ I agree Shelby– Very talented for their age. The injury was a setback, of course, but we will see how it has healed today .” Tommy could practically see Punz nodding his head in time to what he was saying.

Tommy shifted and leaned against the wall. Henry herself into the same spot as earlier, her back pressed into the back of the knee joint on his prosthetic, forcing him to bend the knee which ultimately helped to relieve the pressure that would surely build the longer he stood there.

Silence fell over Tommy’s headphones as both commentators focused on the ice and the skater currently moving over it.

Ranboo held the audience entranced as the music climbed, he leaped in the air and completed their first jump: a Quad Loop. They landed it just as the symbol crashed in his track.

It was beautifully executed, mentally Tommy was cheering.

Shelby Shubble was the first to comment; “ And a well executed Quad Loop to start us off– ”

“ Well– nearly, ” Punz sounded disappointed, “ The landing was a little shaky, so the skater will not receive full marks, but still well done to Ranboo .”

Tommy agreed, but was still proud.

“ Gorgeous Quad Salchow– well done on their part. ”

The next skill that Ranboo presented was one that had given them some challenges while learning, Tommy watched closely as they stepped into it.

They shifted their body weight onto their right skate, their left leg extended out behind them so that their body was parallel to the ice. Ranboo turned once, twice, before changing legs and leaping into the air– his center of gravity shifted ever-so-slightly– but only Tommy was looking for that.

A low whistle passed through Tommy’s headphones.

“With a move like that you would not know that they were ever injured–” Punz laughed in what sounded like astonishment, “I mean, no pause, fluid motion– well done skater, well done.”

The pride that Tommy felt was unmatched.

There was still at least three more minutes left of Ranboo’s program and they had already successfully wowed the commentators. There was a long build up into Ranboo’s next skill, their ice dancing flowed beautifully to the timing of the music.

“ Correct me if I’m wrong Punz– ” Shubble began, “ But Ranboo Beloved used to be called the ‘Ender Prince’, correct? ”

Once again, Tommy could practically see Punz nodding along as he spoke. “ That’s right Shelby, the ‘Ender Prince’– on account of their mothers, who were thought to be ice skating royalty in America– it was only a matter of time before there was a Prince as well. ”

Tommy knew as much, most of the skaters that came from some sort of family history that had to do with skating earned some kind of title like that.

Ranboo threw himself into a well-controlled jump.

“ Wonderful triple lutz– ”

Both commentators clap lightly as Ranboo moves into the next part of his program: the final build up.

“ Now ,” Punz began, “ This next moment will be very telling in terms of their scoring: a quad toe loop, followed by a euler jump and completed with a triple flip– ”

“ Let’s see how they complete the series Punz. ” Shelby sounded amused.

Tommy leaned forward, his eyes followed the arc of Ranboo’s skates on the ice.

Ranboo is sure , their steps confident as they turn backwards to begin the leap–

“ They’ve done it! Amazing execution for the Ender Prince!” Shelby’s excitement was tangible.

Tommy threw his hands into the air, his actions followed the excitement of the crowd. Phil pat Tommy’s shoulder, the pride apparent in the action.

“ A beautiful skate from Ranboo Beloved ,” Punz sounded surprised as he spoke, “ Incredible really .”

Both the commentators were clapping, Tommy smiled proudly as Ranboo completed the last of his step sequence on the ice.

“ I believe that this has overshadowed many of the performances today .” Shelby boasted.

Punz replied easily, “ You are not wrong– This may be on par with the absolutely explosive performance that Dream Taken put on just over an hour ago. Both are stunning performers, I am excited to see where competing takes the both of them– ”

“ I agree with you!”

Ranboo was moving into their final pose.

“ Brilliant musicality, great involvement and planning went into this. And–”

Punz interrupted, “And of course, congratulations must be extended to their coaches: Phil Minecraft– a once great figure skater himself, if not for the injury that took him out of commission a few years ago– As well as Thomas Innit –”

Tommy pulled the headphones down around his neck, his cheers joined the applause from the crowd as Ranboo bowed.

“Yes!! Yes Ranboo!” Tommy pumped his fist, cheering loudly as Ranboo slowly made their way to the side of the rink. They exited a few yards from where Tommy and Phil were standing and Tommy moved quickly towards them.

Phil met Ranboo first at the side of the rink, offering Ranboo their blade guards which they clipped on immediately. Phil patted the taller boy on the shoulder, a proud smile apparent on their face as Phil spoke to them in words too quiet for Tommy to hear.

When Phil stepped away, Tommy moved in for a hug, Henry’s leash temporarily forgotten as he hugged Ranboo.

Ranboo towered over Tommy usually, in their skates they were even taller.

Their panting was loud in Tommy’s ear as they folded themself smaller to return Tommy’s hug.

“I am so proud of you .” Tommy smiled brightly as he said it, even though Ranboo couldn’t see it while they hugged.

Tears stung at the back of his eyes as he held Ranboo– the pride that he felt matched the still echoing cheers inside the rink. Phil still stood there, a smile bright on his face: “You did it mate, you did it.”

“Fuck yeah you did!” Tommy practically vibrated with the excitement of everything that had just happened, the residual anxiety from earlier vanished with the joy that he felt for Ranboo’s success.

Tommy released Ranboo and took a step back, he smiled proudly the entire time.

“Score time mate–” Phil motioned for the two teenagers to follow him.

Ranboo nodded and threw his arm over Tommy's shoulder, Tommy made sure to grab Henry’s leash as they followed Phil.

Phil weaved his way through the crowds easily and as they walked Ranboo slowly caught their breath, though they continued to shake from what could only be assumed as a combination of excitement, adrenaline and exhaustion.

When Ranboo spoke, it was meant just for Tommy’s ears. “Thank you Tommy. Couldn’t have done this without you.”

Tommy shook his head, “All you– you were amazing .” He paused, “I mean, the musicality , your posture was perfect and your execution was excellent!”

“I stumbled on the landing of my Quad Loop. I should have done–”

“Nerves.” Tommy smiled up at him, “And it was barely noticeable.”

“You saw it.”

Phil stopped below the score wall, his eyes scanned the wall for Ranboo’s name.

“ I was looking.” Tommy only noticed the stumble because he was looking for it, this jump in particular put a lot of weight onto Ranboo’s previously injured hip, it was understandable for there to be a stumble.

Ranboo looked like he wanted to say something else, but Phil waved to get both of their attention– “There's your name,” He pointed to the spot on the wall. Tommy squinted at the wall, watching closely for the slowly scrolling name to reveal the score. Ranboo left his arm around Tommy’s shoulder as they leaned forward.

Tommy remembered this feeling from years ago, the building excitement as the score slowly appeared on the board for all to see. He nudged Ranboo and waited for the taller boy to look at him before speaking, “You alright?”

There was hesitation in Ranboo’s eyes, before they replied, “Yeah.” It was immediately followed by a cough, he looked away, Tommy didn’t.

“ 170 .” Ranboo whispered.

Tommy’s turned fast enough that his neck popped, there it was, clear as day.

Ranboo Beloved: 170.

And Tommy swears he cheered loud enough that Tubbo could hear from across the rink.

Chapter Text

When Tommy was younger, his favorite movie was anything that had superheroes in it.

Iron Man , Thor , any of the Batman movies. 

He liked the excitement that accompanied the action scenes. He liked how excited the music made him, and above all, he liked the idea of there being a hero, someone you could look up to and rely on.

When he moved in with Phil and Wilbur and Techno, he learned to appreciate movies that didn’t have superheroes–– though they still held a special place in his heart ––and watch the kind of movies that the three of them liked with minimal grumbling.

Phil likes romantic comedies, the more cheesy, the better.

Wilbur likes the older movies, the kind of movies that no ones heard of, but not in a pretentious “I’m better than you because I know this movie kind of way” but instead in a nerdy “I paying too much attention to camera angles and how movies change over time” kind of way.

And then there’s Techno, whose favorite movie changes from week to week and is usually accompanied by him watching it on repeat until he finds a new movie. At the moment, Tommy was half-sure the current favorite movie was The Mummy , but he could be completely off-base with that one.

Movie nights at the Minecraft house were no joke, they happened at least every two weeks and there was popcorn and candy and comfy pajamas and Tommy learned to appreciate spending time with the family he was slowly getting to know better.

When Tommy met Tubbo, he expected the boy to have a series of favorite movies, as he very rarely settled on one thing to like. Tubbo had few favorites mostly because he liked everything , but Tommy was very wrong when it came to Tubbo.

Tubbo’s favorite movie, hands down, no contest, no change: Treasure Planet .

A movie that Tommy had never even heard of before Tubbo told him. And, of course, Tommy did not tell Tubbo that he hadn’t heard of it, but instead suggested it for the next Minecraft movie night, and the other three watched it skeptically.

It became a house favorite soon after.

And when Tommy met Ranboo, he half expected Ranboo’s favorite movie to be some American classic like Die Hard or The Wizard of Oz . Ranboo surprised Tommy by liking Princess Bride , specifically for the storytelling aspect of it and how pretty the costumes were.

Tommy one-upped them by showing them the movie Stardust .

The first time Tommy invited Tubbo to join the Minecraft movie night, it was three months after they met and they watched Batman Begins, Tommy’s choice.

The first time Tommy invited Ranboo to join the Minecraft movie night, it was five months after they met and they watched Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring , a classic Techno choice.

After the first time, Tubbo and Ranboo joined almost every movie night.

The trio started their own tradition after their suggestions got vetoed a few too many times at Official Minecraft Movie Nights, the unofficial version was usually just the three of them watching movies after Ranboo’s practice sessions finished or when Tubbo finished up with school for the day. It was celebratory, or relaxing, or to fill the room while the trio worked on homework, they usually took turns choosing.

“I picked last time–” Tubbo usually said that.

And Ranboo was usually the one to correct him, “No, I picked last time. We watched National Treasure , the one with Nicholas Cage in it.”

Tommy nodded in agreement, his eyes didn’t move from the TV where he was scrolling. “I liked that one.” He stifled a yawn, “What if we just watched it again?” Techno had started to push that habit onto Tommy.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Tubbo sounded skeptical, Tommy could feel his eyes on him. “Or did you–”

“I did not watch highlights and commentary last night, no.” Tommy answered way too quickly and without any attempts to hide his lie. His eyes lingered on Man of Steel ’s movie cover on the screen, he moved on without clicking it.

He knew without having to look that both Ranboo and Tubbo didn’t believe him. He leaned back further into the couch and lifted his leg so his prosthetic heel sat on top of the table. Tommy called for Henry who jumped up without issue and settled across his lap. Ranboo and Tubbo took up the other half of the couch, Ranboo’s long legs dangled off of the couch even as he laid sideways, Tubbo laid practically on top of them.

“Oh!” Ranboo pointed at the screen excitedly, “That one! I love that one.”

Tommy put the movie on without protest, he set the remote down and started to pet the top of Henry’s head. 

The movie started with the moon.

“Darkness… That’s the first thing I remember. It was dark and it was cold and I was scared .”

Internally, Tommy was intrigued.

Externally he complained, “Aw no wait is this a sad movie .” He looked over at Ranboo, “I don’t want to watch a sad movie.”

Ranboo rolled their eyes, “You’re gonna like it so shh .”

Tommy turned back to the screen, he yawned again.

“Can you put on the subtitles?” Tubbo’s voice was soft as he attempted to not disturb the silence in the room, “I’m taking off my hearing aids.”

Tommy nodded, one hand on the remote to push the right button and the other reached towards Tubbo for his hearing aids. Tommy set them on the table next to him, his focus on the movie in front of him.

It was pretty common for Tubbo to take off his hearing aids while at the Minecraft house, everyone that lived there knew sign language so he didn’t have to worry about missing anything important without them on. Movies came with closed captioning and dinners were half sign, half spoken word and Tubbo’s ability to read lips properly was unmatched.

But that didn’t mean that Tommy wasn’t prepared to sign to him, should he need it.

His moment came almost ten minutes into the movie, one of the characters hummed on screen, without a single acknowledgement of the sound in the captions. Tommy shifted slightly and moved Henry off of his lap and detached his prosthetic leg. He turned on the couch so that he faced Tubbo and used one hand to sign towards his friend.

He pointed at the screen, and fingerspelled the necessary letters. H-U-M . Tommy pointed at the character again.

Tubbo answered with a question of his own, he pointed his index finger up and moved it side to side before he shifted the sign to his mouth and moved it circularly.

What song?

Tommy’s reply was less elegant than he usually signed, he signed no , which was his thumb, index and middle finger pressed together twice, then he tapped his chest, and then the word know , his thumb and closed fist pressed against his forehead and then he moved his hand down and opened it. The literal translation was rough but Tommy couldn’t remember the sign for “soundtrack.”

Tommy noticed the way Ranboo watched the pair of them sign out of the corner of their eyes. Tommy yawned as he spoke, “The captions didn’t say that he was humming.” Ranboo turned to look at him. “So I was trying to explain that to Tubbo.”

Ranboo nodded, opened his mouth to say something, before he closed his mouth and turned back to the screen. Tubbo shifted and leaned further onto Ranboo, the taller boy smiled as he watched the movie.

He knew from experience that when Tommy and Tubbo started to get comfortable they would be out within minutes. Ranboo felt Tubbo shift as he signed under his arm.

“He says that Bunny acts like Techno, Sandy is Wilbur, and the tooth fairy is Phil.” Tommy smiled sleepily as he spoke, Ranboo glanced at him. “He thinks you're the bad guy, because you’re tall.”

Ranboo wanted to get pretend-upset about that, but then Tubbo smiled up at them through half closed eyes and they couldn’t protest.

They nodded, “Who are you then?”

They watched as Tommy signed the question to Tubbo, who answered quickly and without hesitation.

Tommy yawned before he spoke, “He says I’m Jack Frost.”

Ranboo agreed completely.

The conversations and hands lapsed into silence, internally, Ranboo counted down the minutes until the pair of them fell asleep. He knew that no matter Tommy’s denial earlier, he had in fact stayed up later than he should have and listened to the commentary from other news networks on their program from last week.

While Ranboo appreciated the care that his coach put into his program and any adjustments made to it over the past week, he would also appreciate it if Tommy got a full night's sleep.

It was barely ten minutes later that Ranboo noticed that the pair had fallen asleep.

And ten minutes after that that he heard the car pull into the driveway.

Henry perked up at the sound. She effortlessly leaped off of the couch without disturbing her handler and ran to the door. Ranboo couldn’t see her from where they were on the couch but due to the lack of verbal greeting, they knew that Wilbur was the first in the house.

Wilbur shuffled down the hallway, half his attention on greeting Henry and the rest of his attention on figuring out who was here.

Ranboo watched closely as Wilbur signed at him: he waved, and then held up both hands, each creating a circle, he pressed his fingernails together, before separating them.

Hello Ranboo .

Ranboo had gotten better at recognizing his name when Wilbur signed it, they waved in response and offered their left hand to Wilbur as he approached.

C… U… T… E… nod.

“Thanks.” Ranboo smiled and glanced at his best friends before he looked back at Wilbur. “Just you?”

Wilbur shook his head and dropped Ranboo’s hand. He used both hands: the left one laid flat in the air, he pressed the pointer finger of his right hand into the side of his palm, and moved the sign to the side of his head, like he was playing with a long braid.

Ranboo squinted before he replied, “Techno?”

Wilbur smiled brightly and nodded, he pointed over his shoulder and repeated the sign. Ranboo nods, his eyes drifting back to the movie as Wilbur moves towards the kitchen, Henry followed him.

It took a few more minutes for Techno to come into the house, he stopped in the same spot Wilbur did as he surveyed the room and the tv, which had shifted to a battle scene.

Ranboo spoke softly, “Tubbo said the bunny reminds him of you.”

He looked over at Techno, who smiled softly at the information.

Techno stood there for longer than Ranboo expected before he spoke, his eyes on the tv though Ranboo could tell he wasn’t watching it, his voice was soft when he spoke. “Any– uh– any updates?”

It took Ranboo longer than he would care to admit for them to understand what the question meant. They shifted slightly, glanced to check that Tommy and Tubbo were still asleep, before he answered. “Uh– yeah, I got a new medication for the pain from the R.A.” They paused, “And– uh– sometimes I need oxygen, especially after a hard day on the ice, but– but not that often.”

Techno nodded, he took a deep breath, “And how are you feeling?”

It wasn’t a particularly difficult question to answer, Ranboo had been feeling good over the past few weeks. They were still in pain and sometimes it was hard to get out of bed in the morning, but they were happy , so they said as much; “I haven’t been as tired as I usually am. I like this new medication, it lasts longer and– and it doesn’t make me nauseous like the other one did.” They smiled, “I’m happy Tech– like actually happy.”

There was a genuinely happy look in Techno’s eyes when he smiled, “Good.” He paused, “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

(TUBBO is scrambling around the apartment while RANBOO blinks blearily at the island in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.)

RANBOO: Tubbo– you gotta (yawn) stop. It’s fine, we won’t be late.

(TUBBO flips him off without saying anything. RANBOO snorts and keeps drinking his coffee.)

(RANBOO is focusing on breathing deeply, counting his breaths in a subtle way. RANBOO stands after a minute, leaning heavily on the counter for a minute before moving towards his room.)

TUBBO (from the loft): Tommy will be here if fifteen with Techno–

RANBOO (sighing): I know Tubbo.

(RANBOO goes into his room and leans heavily on the wall just inside the door. After a moment, RANBOO crosses the room to his desk, reaching into the top drawer and pulling out a daily medicine organizer. RANBOO takes his pills and sets them on the desk.)

(The door to the apartment opens and RANBOO can hear TOMMY come in.)

TOMMY (loudly and dramatically): Bee boy!

(RANBOO smiles to himself and he pulls his shoes on and grabs his skating bag from inside the wardrobe. He takes a deep breath before walking out of his room and into the rest of the apartment. As soon as he steps out, a bag drops from the loft onto the floor right in front of him. RANBOO pauses and looks at it.)

RANBOO (looks up slowly): Uh–

(TUBBO sticks his head over the banister and grins at him. The three of them look at each other before laughing. RANBOO waves to Henry, who wags her tail.)

TOMMY: Okay– a cabbies downstairs waiting and I promised Philz– (shakes head) Phil we’d be on time and we’ve got– (he pauses again, glancing at a watch he doesn’t have)

(It gets quiet for a second while RANBOO waits for TOMMY to keep going.)

TUBBO (as he goes down the stairs): How long have we got Toms?

(TOMMY looks up at him and shrugs.)

TOMMY: I don’t know– (he lifts up his wrist) I don’t have a watch.

(TUBBO goes to say something and RANBOO shakes his head, smiles and speaks over him.)

RANBOO: Tubbo don’t forget your lunch in the fridge– (looks at TOMMY) I made one for you too, and there’s a biscuit for Henry in the bag.

(TOMMY practically runs to the fridge. TOMMY and TUBBO push at each other jokingly as they try to get the food first. TUBBO shouts in victory, holding his lunch bag in his hand and moving to the living room. RANBOO laughs, before walking around his bag and towards the door. TUBBO puts his lunch in the bag and follows.)

(TOMMY is last out. He locks the door behind him. They all go onto the elevator. TOMMY glances at RANBOO.)

TOMMY (softly): How are you feeling about today?

(RANBOO hesitates, fiddling with the strap on his bag.)

RANBOO: Nervous.

(TOMMY nods, TUBBO glances up and smiles.)

TUBBO: Don’t be! You’ve got this!

(TOMMY and RANBOO smile at his excitement.)

RANBOO: Thanks Tubbo. (he looks back at TOMMY) I’m worried about the short program more than anything– I haven’t been able to land my toe loop as stable as I want to. (he sighs) And I know its a simple jump, and I know I’m overthinking it–

TOMMY (firmly): Ranboo, (he waits for RANBOO to look at him and motions for him to take a breath) Break it down.

(TOMMY and TUBBO step off the elevator. RANBOO nods, slipping on his mask as he follows. He holds open the door for them. The cab is at the curb.)

TUBBO (to the cabbie after climbing in): Hullo.

(The rest climbs in. TUBBO in the far side, RANBOO in the middle and TOMMY next to him Henry sits in between his legs on the floor and rests her head on his lap. TOMMY pets her absentmindedly as he glances at RANBOO.)

TOMMY: Well?

(RANBOO looks at him confused.)

TOMMY (exasperated in a fake way): Break it down.

(RANBOO glances at TUBBO as if unsure about whether or not the conversation will be interesting enough for him, TUBBO’s hearing aids are in his lap. RANBOO smiles and faces straight ahead.)

RANBOO (slowly): Four key events, three phases. (he pauses, tapping his fingertips as he lifts off the events) The moment I place my toe pick in the ice. When I– when I leave the ice. The highest I can jump, and– uh–

(RANBOO glances at TOMMY for the final event.)

TOMMY (softly): When you touch the ice again.

RANBOO (nodding): Right, right, right. (he pauses) Then the phases: the approach, propulsion, and flight.

(RANBOO doesn’t make any move to clarify. TOMMY motions for him to continue.)

RANBOO: The approach begins with the three turns I make as I move into the jump and ends when I snap my toe-pick into the ice. The snap pushes me into the air and acts as the beginning of the propulsion, which ends when I am in the air. The flight begins here and ends when I land again.

(RANBOO has a feeling of realization.)

TOMMY (prompting): And where are you making a mistake?

RANBOO: The snap. (he gets excited and talks quickly) I’m not thinking of it as a fluid motion that connects the movement into the jump into the movement into the air. (he smiles excitedly)

TOMMY: And there’s your mistake!

(It is quiet in the cab for a moment. The cab makes the final turn onto the street where the competition rink is at. RANBOO digs out his wallet and pays the cabbie in cash as TUBBO and TOMMY climb out.)

(As they approach the front doors, TUBBO waves at PHILZA, WILBUR, and TECHNO who stand just outside the doors. TUBBO runs ahead.)

TOMMY (to RANBOO): When we get in and while you warm up off ice (he glances at him) I want you to mark the jump ten times perfectly.

(TOMMY tightens his grip on Henry’s leash. RANBOO nods and TOMMY turns to continue forward towards everyone.)

PHILZA: Right. (he hands out access lanyards) Tommy, Ranboo and I are going to the back, you three (he looks at TUBBO, TECHNO, and WILBUR) can go grab seats, yeah?

(They all mumble various agreements. TOMMY, RANBOO, and PHILZA watch as the other three walk away. WILBUR signs excitedly with TUBBO and TECHNO as they all walk away. PHILZA looks at RANBOO.)

PHILZA (with a smile): You ready?

(RANBOO hesitates, before nodding slowly and glancing at TOMMY. TOMMY loops arms with him in a way of being comforting. They all walk towards the entrance.)

(Time Skip. RANBOO is on the ice getting ready to skate in the practice time.)

(RANBOO is in his competition clothes on the ice. This is during the group warm up. RANBOO is practicing his toe loops and salchows, he marks through different pieces of his program. When practice sessions like this happen, the skaters are at least partially aware of the others and what they are doing.)

(TOMMY and PHILZA are standing right up against the wall beside the ice. TOMMY has a notebook in his hand. He is making notes about RANBOO’s progress and comments to tell him once he is off the ice. PHILZA is mumbling things to himself but doesn’t speak directly to TOMMY.  TOMMY is humming to himself to try and distract himself from how loud everything is. He is rocking back and forth slightly. Henry is nudging his hand and TOMMY is repeatedly gripping her collar and releasing it as a stim.)

TECHNO: Phil! Philza!

(PHILZA turns and TOMMY follows his line of sight. TECHNO is standing at the edge of the bleachers about ten feet in the air looking down at the pair. He is holding a pair of headphones in his hand. He glances at TOMMY and holds them out to PHILZA.)

TECHNO (softly) : For Toms.

PHILZA: Thanks mate–

TECHNO (he waves off the thank you): It was Wilbur– not me.

PHILZA (nods): Thanks anyways thought–

(PHILZA turns back around and walks to TOMMY who has turned back to the ice. PHILZA puts the headphones on his head and TOMMY visibly relaxes. He lets go of Henry’s collar.)

TOMMY (signing): Thank you.

(TOMMY focuses on RANBOO on the ice again. He makes some notes in his notebook. TOMMY leans over to PHILZA, and motions with his pencil hand.)

TOMMY (softly): He’s overturning on his Salchow– too much in the shoulders, not enough in the hips.

(PHILZA nods, bobbing his head as he watches RANBOO skate.)

(A few minutes pass with TOMMY watching RANBOO closely. Henry alerts him and he glances at her. TOMMY taps PHILZA’s shoulder, starting to say that he is going to sit down as a collision happens on the ice.)

(TOMMY and PHILZA pause and try to see who it is. The crowd is on their feet watching and trying to see what happened.)

PHILZA (wincing): Fuck that look like it hurt–

(TOMMY realizes it is RANBOO and drops Henry’s leash and moves towards the entrance on the ice without saying anything.)

(No one is moving to help the skaters because of the shock of the collision. TOMMY steps onto the ice and starts crossing it as fast as he can. He slips a few times but makes it without issue. TOMMY pulls his headphones from around his neck.)

(The skater who hit RANBOO is already standing and appears uninjured. No one has moved to help them yet.)

(RANBOO is laying on his side with his one arm wrapped around his chest and his hand pressed into his chin. His knees are pulled close to his chest and he is wheezing and struggling to breathe.)

(TOMMY falls to his knees beside him and sets a careful hand on his shoulder.)

TOMMY (softly): Ranboo– Ranboo– are you– (he takes a deep breath) Are you okay–

(TOMMY pushes him onto his back and mumbles softly to him as he tries to protest laying on his back on the ice.)

TOMMY: Ranboo– you need to put your hands above your head and breathe deeply.

(RANBOO groans softly and doesn’t listen. TOMMY pushes him onto his back and softly peels his hand away from his now bloody mask. TOMMY lifts the mask for just a second before letting go.)

TOMMY: Deep breaths Ranboo follow me–

(RANBOO listens.)

RANBOO (softly):  Shit , that hurt Toms. (he is kind of dazed) Tommy I landed my toe loop–

(TOMMY laughs.)

TOMMY: You did– you did.

(TOMMY glances over his shoulder and looks at PHILZA before looking at WILBUR, TECHNO, and TUBBO who all look panicked. He waves them down and everyone relaxes a bit.)

(There are Medics coming onto the ice now. RANBOO is still struggling to breathe. TOMMY lets the medics pull RANBOO away from him and he stands and turns to the other skater.)

MEDIC: I’ve got him now Coach–

RANBOO (mumbling): Don’t–

TOMMY (firmly): I’ll be right back–

(TOMMY stands and tries to get himself under control but he approaches the other skater and starts shouting at him.)

TOMMY (loudly): You know a skater’s path! You know what he was practicing–

(The skater tries to protest but TOMMY speaks over him.)

TOMMY: Why the fuck did you get so close to him–

MEDIC: Coach–

(TOMMY stops shouting at the skater and glances at the MEDIC who has gotten RANBOO to his feet and has his arm around his shoulder. TOMMY moves to him immediately, taking his other arm.)

TOMMY (softly): I’ve got you Ranboo–

(RANBOO nods slowly, leaning heavily on him and still wheezing slightly.)

TOMMY (softly): I’ve got you.

(Ends there.)

Chapter Text

(RANBOO is in his competition clothes on the ice. This is during the group warm up. RANBOO is practicing his toe loops and salchows, he marks through different pieces of his program. When practice sessions like this happen, the skaters are at least partially aware of the others and what they are doing.)

(TOMMY and PHILZA are standing right up against the wall beside the ice. TOMMY has a notebook in his hand. He is making notes about RANBOO’s progress and comments to tell him once he is off the ice. PHILZA is mumbling things to himself but doesn’t speak directly to TOMMY.)

(TOMMY is humming to himself to try and distract himself from how loud everything is. He is rocking back and forth slightly. Henry is nudging his hand and TOMMY is repeatedly gripping her collar and releasing it as a stim.)

TECHNO (TOMMY is not aware that it is him though): Phil! Philza!

(PHILZA turns and TOMMY follows his line of sight. TECHNO is standing at the edge of the bleachers about ten feet in the air looking down at the pair. He is holding a pair of headphones in his hand. He glances at TOMMY and holds them out to PHILZA.)

TECHNO (softly) : For Toms.

PHILZA: Thanks mate–

TECHNO (he waves off the thank you): It was Wilbur– not me.

PHILZA (nods): Thanks anyways though–

(PHILZA turns back around and walks to TOMMY who has turned back to the ice. PHILZA puts the headphones on his head and TOMMY visibly relaxes. He lets go of Henry’s collar.)

TOMMY (signing): Thank you.

(TOMMY focuses on RANBOO on the ice again. He makes some notes in his notebook. TOMMY leans over to PHILZA, and motions with his pencil hand.)

TOMMY (softly): He’s overturning on his Salchow– too much in the shoulders, not enough in the hips.

(PHILZA nods, bobbing his head as he watches RANBOO skate.)

(A few minutes pass with TOMMY watching RANBOO closely. Henry alerts him and he glances at her. TOMMY taps PHILZA’s shoulder, starting to say that he is going to sit down as a collision happens on the ice.)

(TOMMY and PHILZA pause and try to see who it is. The crowd is on their feet watching and trying to see what happened.)

PHILZA (wincing): Fuck that look like it hurt–

(TOMMY realizes it is RANBOO and drops Henry’s leash and moves towards the entrance on the ice without saying anything.)

(No one is moving to help the skaters because of the shock of the collision. TOMMY steps onto the ice and starts crossing it as fast as he can. He slips a few times but makes it without issue. TOMMY pulls his headphones from around his neck.)

(The skater who hit RANBOO is already standing and appears uninjured. No one has moved to help them yet.)

(RANBOO is laying on his side with his one arm wrapped around his chest and his hand pressed into his chin. His knees are pulled close to his chest and he is wheezing and struggling to breathe.)

(TOMMY falls to his knees beside him and sets a careful hand on his shoulder.)

TOMMY (softly): Ranboo– Ranboo– are you– (he takes a deep breath) Are you okay–

(TOMMY pushes him onto his back and mumbles softly to him as he tries to protest laying on his back on the ice.)

TOMMY: Ranboo– you need to put your hands above your head and breathe deeply.

(RANBOO groans softly and doesn’t listen. TOMMY pushes him onto his back and softly peels his hand away from his now bloody mask. TOMMY lifts the mask for just a second before letting go.)

TOMMY: Deep breaths Ranboo follow me–

(RANBOO listens.)

RANBOO (softly):  Shit , that hurt Toms. (he is kind of dazed) Tommy I landed my toe loop–

(TOMMY laughs.)

TOMMY: You did– you did.

(TOMMY glances over his shoulder and looks at PHILZA before looking at WILBUR, TECHNO, and TUBBO who all look panicked. He waves them down and everyone relaxes a bit.)

(There are Medics coming onto the ice now. RANBOO is still struggling to breathe. TOMMY lets the medics pull RANBOO away from him and he stands and turns to the other skater.)

MEDIC: I’ve got him now Coach–

RANBOO (mumbling): Don’t–

TOMMY (firmly): I’ll be right back–

(TOMMY stands and tries to get himself under control but he approaches the other skater and starts shouting at him.)

TOMMY (loudly): You know a skater’s path! You know what he was practicing–

(The skater tries to protest but TOMMY speaks over him.)

TOMMY: Why the fuck did you get so close to him–

MEDIC: Coach–

(TOMMY stops shouting at the skater and glances at the MEDIC who has gotten RANBOO to his feet and has his arm around his shoulder. TOMMY moves to him immediately, taking his other arm.)

TOMMY (softly): I’ve got you Ranboo–

(RANBOO nods slowly, leaning heavily on him and still wheezing slightly.)

TOMMY (softly): I’ve got you.

(This Chapter Ends Here. Below Here begins the next scene.)

(Note: This scene will begin with the concept of “It was Tubbo’s idea to listen to the announcers through his phone while Ranboo did his set, it was Tommy who actually listened.” That way the following dialogue can be included in the scene. Only Philza and Tommy are on the side of the rink, the others are in the stands.)

(All of the dialogue is spoken softly. The announcers are meant to be describing the skating moves and what is taking place as well as giving comments to the crowd about the skill level.)

Based on this performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zh4IUG-IjdM

(RANBOO skates out to the center of the ice, setting himself up in the center and putting his arms in the air to begin his program.)

FIRST: Now we all saw the terrible crash during practice that led to the Ranboo’s Short Program being pushed back– but as Ranboo steps onto the ice there is no sign of the collision present in their step.

SECOND: That was the first time I had ever seen something like that on the ice–

FIRST: But not mine Bill– it was a few years ago. Two female skaters had quite the collision on the ice– to the point where one actually had to drop out of the competition. I do believe that was the last time she ever appeared in competition.

(They both nod in agreement. RANBOO’s music starts to play.)

FIRST: They’ve got a beautiful program lined up for us here today–

SECOND (interrupting almost rudely): But with the crash today we will see if they are able to pull it off.

(It is silent for a minute as RANBOO skates into their first jump, a Quad Salchow.)

SECOND: Oh and that was beautifully executed.

FIRST: While a Salchow is not the most difficult of jumps– it can be hard to get full marks on it. I believe this has become the jump that Ranboo is known for. The jump itself is an edge jump– the skater must start on the back inside edge of one foot and land on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. Impressively done, perfectly rotated. Full Marks I’m sure.

SECOND: I agree with you Laura. It would be hard for the judges to find fault in this.

(RANBOO skates around the edge of the rink, turning and moving through sequences. The FIRST announcer clicks her tongue.)

FIRST (unsure): Do they look a little unsure on their feet Bill?

SECOND (pause): I believe so– he appears to be (pause) dizzy?

FIRST: This could be due to the fall– but the officials would not have allowed a concussed skater onto the ice. (pause) For fear of further injury. (hums)

(RANBOO moves into his next progression.)

SECOND: And now here is a moment that I have been waiting for– a quadruple toe loop followed immediately by a triple toe loop. With the difficulty that Ranboo has been having on just the skating sequences, the question on my mind now is:

SECOND (pause): Will the skater prevail or will they fall?

(The FIRST starts to speak to protest, but RANBOO has already made and completed both jumps and the SECOND interrupted her.)

SECOND: Oh I do believe that that was under-rotated.

FIRST: Disappointingly so– And they looked so confident when they started it.

SECOND: For those watching– Ranboo began with a quadruple toe loop followed immediately by a triple toe loop. The first was under-rotated and therefore the landing was unsteady and on the second he almost lost his balance completely. At best those will receive half marks if the judges are being generous.

(The FIRST hums in agreement. RANBOO moves into a sequence.)
FIRST: I do wish the crash during practice hadn’t happened, that appears to be affecting every second of Ranboo’s time on the ice. It is almost disappointing.

SECOND: You’re right Laura.

FIRST: If it hadn’t have happened, Bill, I believe we would see this skater in the top three. But at this rate (she trails off).

(RANBOO does a Fly Camel Spin.)

SECOND: Oh! But does this spin help– Perfectly executed.

FIRST: Sure to get full marks. 

(RANBOO does a big buildup into his Triple Axel.)

FIRST: Now here we go–

(The crowd all reacts loudly as RANBOO slips out of his landing and hits the ice hard on both knees. He stands quickly and keeps moving.)

FIRST (wincing): Ooh– Now that had to hurt.

SECOND: It looked like a combination of under rotation and a misplaced landing. A triple axel requires confidence in the jump and at the end of the jump.

FIRST: The crash earlier must have affected him more than he let on. (she clicks her tongue)

FIRST: They will need to pull off the next three part sequence to score well.

(The Announcers are silent. Before the SECOND speaks.)

SECOND: Now Ranboo’s coach must be worried– his skater is not looking good on the ice right now and Laura, correct me if I’m wrong, but Phil Minecraft was not present on the rink when Ranboo and Quackity Nevadas collided– (trails off)

FIRST: Actually he was– but due to his career ending injury, Phil was incapable of stepping on the ice to help his skater. His second, however, was. (she is smiling) We all saw the firecracker that was Thomas Innit on the ice shouting at Quackity for his lack of awareness, and the care that he took of Ranboo Beloved.

SECOND: Now, Thomas Innit was a skater himself– and quite a profound one. I believe he was on track for the Olympics–

(TOMMY goes to pull the headphones off but hesitates because the Announcers are not done with their comments on RANBOO’s program. He keeps the headphones on but gets more and more frustrated as they speak.)

FIRST: But he also suffered a career ending injury– Did you ever learn what it was?

TOMMY (under his breath): Fuck off– get back to the skating.

(PHILZA looks at TOMMY who shrugs him off and looks back at RANBOO on the ice. The Announcers continue.)

SECOND (hesitantly): I believe it was a car accident–

(Henry alerts, TOMMY nudges her away.)

SECOND: That led to an ampu–

FIRST (cuts him off): Oh! Look at that! They traveled a bit on their Sit Spin, but otherwise beautifully done–

SECOND: And their Step Sequence– gorgeous as always.

(A pause.)

FIRST: And now it is done to the final combination–

SECOND (proudly): And he’s done it! Perfect execution!

FIRST: He may have had some difficulties in the beginning– but they ended strong. I would be surprised to see them below third place overall!

SECOND: I agree–

(TOMMY pulls off the headphones and joins in the cheering and clapping that everyone else is doing. PHILZA is beaming brightly beside him and TOMMY is so proud and just a little worried about if he was hurt badly after his fall.)

(RANBOO takes his time skating to the edge of the rink, breathing deeply and wobbling on his feet just a bit. TOMMY is there for him when he steps off the ice. RANBOO leans heavily on TOMMY and puts his head on top of TOMMY’s.)

TOMMY (softly): Are you okay–

RANBOO (quietly): I can’t– (heavy exhale) I can’t breathe–

(RANBOO coughs. TOMMY nods and glances at PHILZA.)

TOMMY: He needs oxygen–

PHILZA (nods): Got it. (he turns just as Henry alerts)

(TOMMY focuses on RANBOO.)

TOMMY: Right– I’ll help you to the back big man.

RANBOO (breathlessly): But scores–

TOMMY: Won’t be out for another fifteen minutes. You need to sit down.

(RANBOO stops protesting and TOMMY helps him to the back hallway. A few people try to speak to them on their way but TOMMY waves them off.)

(TOMMY gets RANBOO to sit on a bench and Henry alerts again. TOMMY sits next to him and gets RANBOO to sit up straight.)
TOMMY: Ranboo– Boo can you try to match my breathing?

(TOMMY grabs his hand and holds it tightly. RANBOO nods. They sit and breathe together for a minute before PHILZA comes up with an oxygen canister and mask.)

PHILZA (softly): Here mate–

(PHILZA takes off RANBOO's cloth face mask and carefully puts the oxygen mask on RANBOO and kneels in front of him with a smile to watch his face closely.)

RANBOO (breathlessly): I’m– I’m– I’m sorry Phil. (he takes a deep breath) I should have–

PHILZA (shakes his head and speaks firmly): No I won’t have you sayin’ sorry mate– you did your best.

(PHILZA pauses, shakes his head, and looks down.)

PHILZA: I should have pulled you from the competition the moment that skater crashed–

TOMMY (firmly): Oh shut up–

(RANBOO and PHILZA look at him in mild shock.)

TOMMY: Ranboo did his best and wanted to compete– (he looks at PHILZA) And you couldn’t stop him, even if you tried. (he pauses and looks back at RANBOO) And you will not be practicing for at least a week after everything that happened today.)

(RANBOO and PHILZA glance at each other before the three of them smile and laugh. TOMMY laughs loudly, PHILZA silently and RANBOO in a breathless way. Henry wags her tail from where she is laying on the floor.)

Chapter Text

(RANBOO is sprawled across the couch in their flat with an ice pack on his side and TOMMY sitting on the floor beside him with his head leaning on the couch. TUBBO is up in his loft, he shouts suddenly.)

TUBBO: Right (he comes to the railing and looks down). We’ve got to get going–

TOMMY: Going? (he glances at RANBOO)

(RANBOO shrugs and looks up at TUBBO. He smiles brightly and lifts a bag over the railing.)

TOMMY (loudly): No– wait– don’t–

(TUBBO drops the bag he was holding, trying his best to land it on TOMMY who scrambles out of the way to narrowly avoid getting hit by it. RANBOO snorts and then winces. TOMMY glances at him and he waves it off.)

(TUBBO runs around to the spiral staircase and jumps down the last few steps. He grabs the bag from where it landed as TOMMY and RANBOO look at him.)

TOMMY: Bee boy–

(TUBBO hums and glances at him.)

TOMMY: Where are we going?

TUBBO (with a bright smile): Train station.

(TOMMY glances at RANBOO, who sits up and leans against the back of the couch.)

RANBOO: Why?

TUBBO (as if it’s obvious): To catch a train.

(TOMMY rolls his eyes.)

TOMMY: A train to where?

(TUBBO pauses and looks at TOMMY and RANBOO. He puts his hands on his hips and frowns. TOMMY thinks that TUBBO is messing with them and avoiding the answers before realizing that TUBBO just doesn’t realize the answers that he was giving wasn’t what TOMMY and RANBOO meant.)

TUBBO: Out of London. (he pauses) Now get up– come on.

(TOMMY and RANBOO both get up. RANBOO moves into his room. TOMMY leans against the island counter watching as TUBBO packs snacks and drinks into a wicker basket alongside a blanket.)

TOMMY: Can I–

TUBBO (not rudely): No.

(TOMMY shrugs and turns when RANBOO walks out of his room with two coats in his hands.)

RANBOO (softly): Do you need to borrow a coat, Toms? It’s– it’s pretty cold outside.

(TOMMY glances at TUBBO who pauses, considers it, and then nods.)

TOMMY: Yeah, alright then–

(TOMMY takes the coat from RANBOO and pulls it on. The coat is too large for him but he pulls it closed and zips it up, holding out his arms and looking to TUBBO for approval. TUBBO glances and nods.)

TUBBO: There might be some snow where we are going– (he opens a kitchen drawer and pulls out a few pairs of gloves) I’ll pack some gloves– (he holds them up before dropping them into the wicker basket.) And I’m packing the sandwiches Boo made for lunch today.

(TOMMY nods along, leaning against the countertop and propping his head on his hands. RANBOO sits beside him, stretching slightly as he does. He hums at TUBBO’s comments.)

(TUBBO closes the wicker basket and claps his hand. He pauses, looking at the basket for a minute and counting things on his fingers. He smiles at TOMMY and RANBOO.)

TUBBO (excitedly): Okay– we’re ready!

(TOMMY hums, standing up and moving towards the door. He pats his fake leg and clicks his tongue, calling Henry to him and smiling at her when she walks up. He pets her some and gives her a kiss on the head as RANBOO hands him her leash. He clips it on her and stands tall. RANBOO opens the door and TOMMY is the first out after grabbing his backpack, with TUBBO and RANBOO following.)

(It is mostly quiet as the three of them go downstairs and out the front door to the building. When they step out of the building it is snowing lightly and TOMMY stops as the other two go on.)

TOMMY (softly): It’s snowing.

(Henry sits down by his feet as TOMMY tilts his head back and lets the snow fall on his face. TUBBO grins brightly at him and RANBOO steps towards him, setting a hand on his shoulder as he starts to tilt backwards.)

TOMMY: Snow is my favorite thing. (he pauses) When I was a kid– I didn’t– I lived too far south for there to be snow, but every winter my mum would take me north the second snow started to show. (he smiles softly) I forgot how much I missed it.

(The three stand there for a few minutes as TOMMY continues to look up at the sky. He tilts his head back down and smiles at TUBBO and RANBOO.)

TOMMY (energetically): Well– come on now–

(They continue forward. The station is only a few blocks away, it does not take that long for them to get there.)

(RANBOO pulls the basket from TUBBO’s hand as TUBBO moves to go get the tickets. TOMMY looks up at RANBOO, tucking his hands in his pocket and telling Henry to sit.)

RANBOO: I wonder where we are going. (He lifts the basket higher on his hip)

(TOMMY shrugs, looking up at the sky as the snow continues to fall. Henry alerts and RANBOO glances down at her.)

RANBOO: You good?

TOMMY (sighs): She’s letting me know my heart rates up–

(RANBOO makes a noise of surprise and TOMMY waves off his concern.)

TOMMY: I’m excited. (he pauses) And a little anxious.

(TOMMY glances over his shoulder, thinking for a second that he sees DREAM before realizing it is not him. RANBOO takes a step closer to TOMMY. A minute passes before RANBOO speaks.)

RANBOO (softly): He’s got the tickets– come on Toms.

(RANBOO hooks arms with TOMMY and they both walk through the station and to the train. TUBBO won’t give them their ticket, instead he holds them out to the attendant and takes them back before RANBOO and TOMMY can see.)

RANBOO: Do we get to know where you are kidnapping us too?

TUBBO: No.

(TUBBO and RANBOO step up into the train. Henry follows, and TOMMY struggles for a minute before RANBOO and TUBBO each hold out a hand and pull TOMMY up onto the train. He smiles in thanks.)

(They find a seat in the train just as it starts going.)

(It is quiet for a few minutes. TOMMY is looking out the window and watching the scenery pass by. Henry lays her head in his lap and he pets her ears. A clicking sound can be heard, TOMMY turns to find a woman clicking her tongue to distract Henry. Henry, the professional, doesn’t even look at her.)

TOMMY (firmly but not rudely): You’re not meant to distract her– she’s working.

(The lady stops. TOMMY looks at TUBBO.)

TOMMY: Right– where are we going and when will we be back. Phil will be texting me the second I don’t show at the house for dinner.

(TUBBO smiles brightly.)

TUBBO (excitedly): The beach!

TOMMY: In the snow?

TUBBO (shrugs): Didn’t know it was gonna snow.

RANBOO: It’s been snowing all week.

TUBBO: It’ll be fun.

TOMMY (laughs): You're right. (he pauses) It’ll be so fun.

(TOMMY and RANBOO glance at each other, TOMMY goes to speak again when the lady across from them starts patting the seat next to her. TOMMY sighs heavily. TUBBO looks ready to fight her, he stands up to say something but TOMMY sets a hand on his arm.)

TOMMY: Let’s just move seats– I don’t want to cause a scene.

(RANBOO stands and grabs the wicker basket, grabbing TUBBO’s hand and pulling him away before he can say anything to the woman. TOMMY follows.)

(When TOMMY looks out the window again, it is in a more sad way. He sighs.)

RANBOO (cautiously): Does that– does that happen often?

(TOMMY turns to look at them and finds both of them watching him closely. Henry alerts and he rubs his hand in her fur.)

TOMMY (nodding as he speaks): Yeah– people tend to think that they know best about Henry. Or that just ‘cause I look like a kid I don’t know what I’m doing. (he sighs) I got use to it–

RANBOO (firmly): You shouldn’t have to.

TOMMY (shrugs): But I do. (he smiles) People aren’t educated on shit like this. (he motions to TUBBO) I mean– Tubbo gets it.

(TUBBO nods.)

TUBBO (motions to his face): I get stares a lot. It used to bother me, boss man, but I just ignore it now. (he smiles) I don’t mind the questions, but the stares make me uncomfortable.

(RANBOO nods. He sighs.)

RANBOO: I’m–

TOMMY (jokingly): Oh fuck no– no apologies– no feeling sorry. (he shoves him) No pity– fuck pity. All my homies hate pity.

(The three laugh loudly for a minute. When they calm down. RANBOO starts to speak.)

RANBOO (looking sad): I– I have something to tell you guys.

(TOMMY is confused about why he is sad. But the sad emotion goes away and is replaced with a happier look.)
RANBOO: I’m– I’m really glad I met you, both of you, on the rink that day. (he snorts) I mean– it was weird as hell– but I’m really glad I met you when I did.

(TOMMY throws his arm over RANBOO’s shoulder.)

TOMMY: Aww– Boo’s getting all sentimental on us Tubbo. (he laughs before smiling at him) I’m glad I met you too Ranboo– really.

(They all smile at each other.)