Chapter Text
When Ranboo gets home, Tubbo is stationed on the couch in the spot where he’s been spending most of his days since Puffy’s disappearance. Tommy is still out- it’s not unusual for him to take on a few more hours at work if they’re understaffed or even if he just feels like it.
“How was work?” The brunet asks as Ranboo kicks off his shoes.
“It was alright. Same ol’.” Ranboo ambles over to the small kitchen area. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”
Tubbo thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah, got caught up in my work. You know how it is.”
Caught up, indeed. Freelance hacking may not be the most moral of side jobs, but it’s certainly engaging.
“I’ll cook something while we wait for Tommy to get home, then,” Ranboo says much to Tubbo’s relief. Now that he thinks about it, he’s starving.
Something about the ‘waiting for Tommy’ thing evokes a vague sense of unease in him, though. “Thanks. Hey, did Tommy mention having a longer shift today to you? Like, send you a text or anything?”
“…No?” Ranboo says, sounding unsure until he pulls out his phone and checks it. “Yeah, no. I got nothing.”
“Weird.”
“Eh, he probably just forgot.”
An hour ends up passing with no sign of the blonde, so they eat their meal- bacon and eggs- without him. Tubbo makes sure to put a plate in the fridge so he can get it when he comes home.
After two more hours, a deep sense of unease is beginning to snake its way into Tubbo’s mind.
Maybe he just went to his friend’s house or something? He’s been talking about visiting that cat he rescued.
“He’s not responding to my texts,” Ranboo frets, “And when I tried to call him, it didn’t go through.”
“I’m not having any luck either.” Tubbo swipes out of his texts, opening another page. All three of the boys have long since turned on location sharing in their phones- something very necessary to their safety considering their occupations as teenage runaways-slash-vigilantes. “His location is still by Sam’s Cafe. Reckon we should go check on him?”
Ranboo nods. “Sam’s is closed by now, so it’s kinda weird that he’s still over there… I’m sure it’s fine, but we might as well. It’ll be nice to walk home together!”
The two leave the apartment at record speed, anxiety quickening their steps even as they try to reassure each other- and themselves- that everything is fine. It’s just a bit weird, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.
When they get to Sam’s Cafe, the store is darkened and locked up. Tubbo stares into the empty windows. “Well, shit.” He pulls out his phone again, frowning down at the location service. “That’s weird… now that we’re closer, it’s showing him a bit down the street.”
Ranboo shrugs, leaning over him to look at the display. “Let’s go that way, then.”
The phone leads them a few steps down and stops them before an alleyway.
“This is…”
Fucking scary, Tubbo thinks when Ranboo trails off. “Come on.”
They creep into the darkness, looking around for any hint of some sort of ambush or trap. There’s nothing- not even the movement from a stray bit of trash blowing around or a wild animal. At some point Ranboo walks away from him, going deeper between the buildings before stopping. A little noise from the back of the ender hybrid’s throat draws Tubbo’s attention.
“What did you find?”
Ranboo doesn’t turn around, kneeling over something on the pavement. “It’s his phone.”
Tubbo’s chest seizes, an icy feeling building around his heart. Stepping closer, he can see what his friend is looking at- the phone is shattered in several places, almost like it had been stomped on. Tubbo drops to his knees and gathers it into his hands, trying to turn it on to no avail. “Fuck.” He stands up again, desperately jamming his finger against the power button. “Fuck!”
“I-it’s okay,” Ranboo says as he stands too, though his voice is noticeably shaky, “I’m sure he just dropped-” He cuts himself off with a short, panicked noise and Tubbo’s head whips up to look at the ender hybrid as he stumbles further into the alley and picks something up.
Tubbo stares at the bundle of fabric clutched in Ranboo’s hands. “Tommy’s jacket?”
“He must’ve worn it to work today,” Ranboo’s fingers clench tighter into the jacket as he pulls it closer to his body, as if afraid of it being ripped away. “I can’t- I don’t remember, but there’s something…”
A hazy, half-asleep memory of that morning sparks in Tubbo’s mind as Ranboo’s sentence trails off. Tommy isn’t normally the type to wear much more than a select few baggy tops that tend to be strewn around the apartment, but he had made more of a ruckus than usual while getting ready. It had been enough to wake Tubbo and Ranboo- Tommy had been proud to show them the shirt he’d borrowed from Phil, complete with sewn-in holes for his wings to poke through. Ranboo wouldn’t have remembered the interaction properly, not with his… condition.
“He was wearing one of Phil’s wing shirts,” Tubbo says, then shuts his mouth before he can spew any further anxious thoughts- they both know Tommy would never willingly go without some kind of wing covering in his civilian form.
Ranboo turns, whole body shaking as he stares at Tubbo. “We need to go home- see if there’s anything on his phone or- or something we can use to figure out what happened.”
Tubbo nods, grabs his arm, and allows the ender hybrid to whisk them back to the apartment in a flurry of particles. They clear off the counter, giving Tubbo room to lay out the phone and whatever spare parts he may need to repair it- the goat hybrid’s scrap-collecting habit finally coming in handy.
The phone, as it turns out, takes significantly longer to repair than expected. The shattered body is an easy fix, only taking an hour or two, but the phone itself…
“It’s like the software is just completely fucked,” Tubbo grumbles, clutching the sides of his head in frustration as the phone begins to turn on, only for the screen to go black seconds later. Most of the night has already been whittled away, the dark already beginning to be eaten away by the rising sun. He ends up pulling out his laptop, using a cable to connect the computer to the phone- something he hadn’t wanted to do earlier for fear of there being some kind of virus on the phone that could migrate into the other device.
(Clearly there is a virus on the phone, considering the software issues, but Tubbo has confidence that he can fight it off should it attempt to destroy his precious computer. Probably.)
He lets the phone continue to attempt powering on, while navigating to its files where they’re displayed in the computer. Ranboo, who’s been loyally stationed by the brunet’s side throughout the night- though he may not be quite as technologically literate as Tubbo is- watches as he mouses over a few files before pausing on an unfamiliar folder. When he opens it, there’s only one file hidden inside.
“Is that… supposed to be there?”
Tubbo clicks on the file, making a blank error pop up. He frowns, shaking his head. “I think I’ve heard of this before- it’s something that can be remotely activated to keep the device it infects from booting up. Doesn’t do much else, but it does mean someone’s had a target on Tommy for a while now- though I don’t know how exactly they managed to get the virus into his phone in the first place.”
Ranboo nods and scoots closer in lieu of a verbal reply, his shoulder bumping against Tubbo’s in a show of silent support. The brunet doesn’t want to think about it, but- nausea boils in the pit of his stomach at the very thought- the evidence overwhelmingly points to Tommy being taken- kidnapped by someone.
Tubbo is willing to bet that he already knows who that someone is.
Deactivating the virus while simultaneously keeping it from migrating onto the laptop takes up several more hours of precious time. At some point during the course of the night Ranboo disappears, emerging back into the kitchen just after sunrise to slide a plate of breakfast over to Tubbo.
The food goes untouched.
When Tubbo finally gets the phone back into working condition, his relief is short-lived- nothing seems to be out of the ordinary within the phone itself. In fact, it seems completely untampered with.
That is, until a text message appears at the top of the screen.
“Tubbo? Are you alright?”
A hand lands on Tubbo’s shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze, and when the brunet finally manages to tear his gaze away from the screen Ranboo is giving him a worried frown. “Did you find something?”
Wordlessly, Tubbo tilts the screen enough for the ender hybrid to read the message.
Tobias-
I see you’ve managed to get rid of the virus on your little friend’s phone. Well done! You’ve always been smart. You take after me in that way.
Alright. Enough of the sentimental bullshit- you can figure out what this is about, can’t you?
It’s time to come home. Maybe I’ll even let this kid go if you do- only one way to find out.
It’s not signed. There’s not even a proper phone number attached to it, the ‘sender’ field somehow left infuriatingly blank.
Yet, Tubbo knows exactly who it’s from.
Ranboo takes an involuntary step back, a horrible look in his eyes. “That’s…”
“Schlatt.” Tubbo sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I thought he might be the one behind this, but I hoped…”
“You’re not going back to him,” Ranboo says, the very tone of his voice making it clear that he won’t be swayed on the topic. “We can come up with another plan.”
“Of course.” Tubbo nods, but he knows that if it comes down to it, he would do anything for his friends.
Anything at all.
The brunet’s spiraling train of thought is interrupted as Ranboo speaks again. “Now that we have confirmation that Schlatt’s the one who took him, what should we do?”
Tubbo puts the phone down with a hum. “I might know someone who can help us.”
“Really?” Ranboo looks surprised. “Who?”
Tubbo thinks of a certain nearby city. One with almost equal power to Manberg, despite it having only risen into the spotlight in recent years.
One with a certain someone in the seat of power.
Las Nevadas.
“I’m going to try and hack into Las Nevadas’ servers. If I can do that, then maybe Quackity will help us.”
There’s a long pause.
“Huh?” Ranboo gives him a blank, lost stare before pulling his memory book from the counter where he normally leaves it and starting to rifle through the pages. “How would he help?”
The question is a sobering reminder of the decline in Ranboo’s memory. Were this happening just a year or so earlier, the ender hybrid would have known instantly what Tubbo was talking about.
(When speaking of the trio’s childhood, Tubbo is the only one who can still remember everything. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t, if only so he wouldn’t be alone.)
“It’s…” Tubbo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. “Before Quackity founded Las Nevadas he was Schlatt’s secretary, right-hand man, whatever you want to call it. Ran away when he had enough of the old bastard’s abuse. He has, or at least should have, info on Schlatt.”
The sound of rustling pages is Ranboo’s only response for a long moment as he looks through his memory book, finally seeming to find what he’s looking for as his eyes clear with understanding. “Oh.” He closes the book sharply, and Tubbo suppresses a flinch at the noise- stress making him far more jumpy than usual. “That seems like our best bet, but how are you so sure he has anything useful?”
The question pulls a humorless laugh from the brunet. “You don’t go from being someone’s secretary to running a rival city without plenty of blackmail, bossman.”
Ranboo doesn’t seem to have anything to say in response to that, and Tubbo flips open his laptop without further ado. Finding the Las Nevadas website is easy enough- it’s a public page meant to inform and invite potential tourists and newcomers, after all.
Honestly, Tubbo doesn’t really expect the information he needs to be stored on this particular site. He just needs to get Quackity’s attention.
With that in mind, Tubbo makes a point of removing several of the encrypting factors from his laptop- things that normally disguise his identity from those who fall victim to his hacks. It starts off well at first, the brunet managing to make his way through several hidden pages before his progress slows down. The page he’s on goes blank, then glitches.
“What’s happening?”
“They know something’s wrong- Quackity’s people are probably working against me now.”
“Can you-” Ranboo cuts himself off, glancing away, but Tubbo already knows what he wants to ask- can you still get in?
“It’ll be fine,” Tubbo says. “Once they run an identifier they’ll realize who I am and let me through. And if they don’t, I’ll just brute force it.”
Almost as if on cue, the screen flickers. Flashes cut across the screen, the webpage seeming to shake before stabilizing once more.
A dialogue box pops up, reminiscent of something one would see in an old internet chatroom. Tubbo pauses, hands pulling away from the keyboard like they’ve been burned as he watches a single message appear on the screen.
> Toby?
Ranboo makes a worried sound behind him, but all Tubbo can do is try to control his breathing. The reminder of his old name is a punch to the gut- he only lets himself take a second before he types a response.
> Quackity.
Almost instantly, another message pops up.
> What are you trying to do?
Tubbo’s hands shake.
> I need your files on Schlatt.
There’s a long pause, then-
> Why?
> He has my friend.
Tubbo doesn’t give the other man a chance to reply before his hands are flying across the keyboard again, sending an impulsive addition-
> You owe me.
You left me behind, Tubbo doesn’t type. Quackity already knows.
There’s no reply, but moments later a new page loads where there’d only been a blank one before, a notification popping up to tell Tubbo that the page is asking to download several files. He clicks accept and one last message pops up in the dialogue box afterwards- a phone number with a brief note attached.
> In case you need me.
Tubbo scowls and closes the chat.
“Is that the stuff you were looking for?” Ranboo suddenly asks, peeking over his shoulder and making Tubbo jolt in his seat. The goat hybrid nods slowly, mousing over several folders before finding one and clicking on it.
“Hopefully,” he mutters, and there’s a fraught minute of wandering through files before he finally stumbles across the right one, the link he clicked on loading a document with a list of addresses. A relieved puff of breath escapes his mouth.
Ranboo leans forward, eyes narrowed at the text displayed across the top of the screen. “Safe houses?” The ender hybrid’s brow furrows. “What does he need those for?”
“They’re supposed to be in case of emergencies,” the goat hybrid explains, bitter taste on his tongue, “For government officials to hide if something goes wrong in the outside world- at least, that’s what it says on paper. Knowing him, they’ve never actually been used for their intended purpose. Hell, the only reason I even know they exist is from the shit I picked up sneaking in his office as a kid.”
“Oh,” Ranboo says, picking up on what Tubbo’s thinking. “So there’s a good chance he’s holding Tommy in one of these locations.”
“Exactly.” Tubbo clicks around, trying to make his movements look purposeful, but inside- how is he going to know which one it is? He and Ranboo can’t search over a dozen locations, not without being caught immediately- the chances of the first one they go for being the right one are slim to none.
“Tubbo.”
And if they get caught, then what happens to Tommy? Will Schlatt just kill him? And what about Ranboo? Schlatt probably wouldn’t want to keep him, so-
“Tubbo.”
A safe, familiar pair of hands gently pulls Tubbo’s away from the computer, and it’s only then that the goat hybrid realizes he’s shaking.
“Hey,” Ranboo says, kneeling to look into Tubbo’s eyes. “What’s going on in that head of yours? We’re a team- anything I can help you with, I will.”
Taking a deep, wobbling breath, Tubbo forces his body to relax. “How are we going to figure out which safe house to go to? We can’t search all of them, it’ll be too risky.”
Ranboo looks down at their joined hands with a thoughtful frown. “Well, who says we have to search all of them?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have those, uh… the little drones, right? We could send a few of those to each location, monitor them, and see whichever one has anyone going in or out.”
Tubbo perks up, hope sparking through him for the first time in two days. “Ranboo, I could kiss you right now.”
“…Thanks?”
Pulling his hands away, Tubbo turns back to the laptop and boots up the program used to control the bee drones. “Would you go and open up the window for me? Oh, and the top drawer to the right of the sink- that’s where I put the drones last time.”
There’s a quick shuffle of movement as Ranboo does what he’d asked, and before long a small cluster of drones is flying out of the window, quickly parting ways towards their various destinations. It’s a bit complicated to remotely control more than a few drones at a time, so Tubbo sets them to automatically make their ways to monitoring points near the safe houses- from there, he’ll watch their cameras until one of them shows suspicious activity.
Tubbo slumps back in his chair, eyes glued to the camera feeds plastered across his laptop’s screen. He’s startled slightly when a black-and-white speckled hand nudges his shoulder, pushing a plate towards him. “You should eat something while we wait.”
The brunet shoots Ranboo an unimpressed look, but dutifully shoves a piece of toast into his mouth. “Thanks.”
Hours pass.
Nothing changes.
Tubbo jolts himself awake for the third time in a row, body aching from sitting still for so long. Ranboo isn’t faring any better.
“You should get some sleep,” Ranboo says, sounding utterly exhausted himself.
The goat hybrid shakes his head. “No, I need to keep watch. You can sleep if you want, though.”
“Tubbo, you’re literally falling asleep at the table. We can’t help Tommy if both of us are too sleep-deprived to function.”
Tubbo’s voice fails him, only managing a single word of weak protest. “But-” His eyes flicker over to the clock in the corner of his laptop’s screen.
It’s Tommy’s birthday, his mind supplies unhelpfully.
It’s his birthday, and you’re still here.
It’s his birthday, and he’s scared and alone and probably hurt because you’re not saving him.
You’re failing him. You’re failing him again. He’s done so much for you, and what have you done in return? Nothing he’d be proud of. You’re a monster.
“Tubbo?” Ranboo’s voice is gentler now, softened by years of experience as one of Tubbo’s other halves.
“I can’t lose him again, ‘Boo,” Tubbo says, mortified to find his voice choked by tears.
Ranboo is strong, confident as he replies. “We’re not going to lose him.” He opens his arms and Tubbo crashes into the offered hug, tears slipping down his face.
Despite his words, Ranboo is shaking.
“I don’t know what Schlatt is doing to him,” Tubbo manages to choke through his sobs, annoyance at himself rising up alongside his despair. “I don’t- If the worst happens, I don’t know if the book will even work again.”
Ranboo tenses against him. “It’s- It’s not going to come to that.”
The assurance falls on deaf ears.
“But what if it does? He’s not- Tommy’s not safe, and if Schlatt decides he’s had enough of him what’s stopping him from just-” Tubbo cuts himself off, a hysterical sort of choked noise coming out of him as he pulls away from Ranboo and turns towards the computer screen. “And these fucking drones are taking too long-!”
“Hey.”
The uncharacteristically stern tone of Ranboo’s voice pulls Tubbo back to himself just enough to realize he’s gripping the sides of his laptop hard enough to make the casing creak dangerously. His eyes widen.
Good thing it was the laptop and not Ranboo. Monster.
A loud sob bubbles out of him, then another, then he’s bursting into tears all over again. Arms wrap around him again as he wails, a clawed hand smoothing out his hair. “I’m sorry,” Tubbo cries, Ranboo comforting him all the while.
He’s always been so kind, the goat hybrid thinks, always so kind…
There’s a pang of guilt there when he realizes Ranboo, despite his supportive nature, must be hurting too.
Sucking in a deep breath, Tubbo looks up at Ranboo. There are new scars making shiny tracks down the taller boy’s cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be,” Ranboo brushes off the question as he quickly scrubs at his face. “I think we both need some sleep.”
Tubbo grunts. The ender hybrid is right, he knows that, but Tommy…
Mismatched eyes flick over to look at him, then back at the screen as Ranboo’s face forms a thoughtful frown. “Is there any way we could set some kind of alarm that’ll go off if the drones catch any activity?”
“Oh… yeah, that could work.” Tubbo’s voice is still raspy, and he wipes away the last of his tears before scooting forward to mess with the computer. It doesn’t take too long to set up a basic alert system- in comparison to everything else since Tommy’s disappearance, it’s almost laughably easy.
With the assurance that he and Ranboo will be woken if anything changes, Tubbo finally feels comfortable enough to retreat to the bedroom. He plugs in the laptop, leaving it open on the floor beside the mattress.
The two make a miserable huddle on the bed and fall into an uneasy sleep. All night, the laptop remains silent. It takes until halfway through the next day- when Tubbo and Ranboo have had more than enough time to work themselves into another panic- for an alert to chime out.
They rush to the computer in time to see a nondescript car pull around the side of one of the buildings. It stops near a secluded alleyway, and the camera is just barely able to pick up a figure- most likely a man, judging by their stature- in dark clothing getting out of the car and going further down the alley. The car pulls away quickly, leaving the image still once more.
“There must be a side entrance,” Tubbo mutters to himself as he minimizes the camera feeds, pulling up the safe house files and finding the one that corresponds to that specific building. According to the documentation, it’s an abandoned office building whose basement has been converted to a secure space.
The records also show that it contains several holding cells.
A shudder crawls up Tubbo’s spine.
Ranboo doesn’t look any better from where he sits, leaning in to look at the screen.
“He’s… probably in one of those,” Tubbo manages.
“How are we going to get in?”
A moment passes, Tubbo blinking uselessly at the computer before shaking his head. “I- We’ll come up with something.” They can’t just barge in by themselves without a plan, after all. A move like that would be tantamount to handing themselves over to Schlatt on a silver platter.
Brainstorming, unfortunately, takes longer than either boy would like. The safe house’s file, at least, contains several things that are bound to be useful. Things like the floor plan of the building and how to enter the basement. Maps of concealed passageways and entrances. It’s actually not too complicated when laid out on paper- or, technically, a screen- so Tubbo isn’t too worried about not being able to find his way around.
No, the problem is the potential of being caught. They know nothing about the security protocols that may be in place- knowing Schlatt, it’s just as likely that there’s some kind of trap as it is that he left the building’s security the same way it was before he decided to take a teenager prisoner.
(Some little part of Tubbo sneers that the old bastard would much rather spend his money on booze than fork over a cent for added security on any… projects he may have. The more rational part of him knows that Schlatt is often more clever than he seems.)
Tubbo tries to look on the bright side. The files they have do detail the building’s normal, non-prisoner-holding protocols. That’s something, at least.
The existing protocols are… rather extensive, however. It doesn’t seem that there’s much manpower being used, per se- it would be rather an inconvenience to hire staff for buildings that stand empty almost all of the time- but the building seems to be pretty well locked down.
They won’t need access codes to the doors when they can just blast through them instead, but Tubbo is sure that any sort of explosion will, of course, draw Schlatt’s attention- which brings them right back to the problem of being caught.
And most daunting of all, they have no backup.
Tubbo says as much to Ranboo, who goes quiet and thinks for a moment.
“I might have an idea,” The ender hybrid eventually says, picking up Tommy’s phone from where it’d been abandoned on the table.
“Oh?” Tubbo perks up. “What is it?”
“Tommy’s friend, he-” Ranboo cuts himself off, a frustrated huff leaving him as he grabs his notebook again and flips through the pages. “Techno. Tommy told us that Techno is Blade, and it would be pretty useful to have an actual, experienced hero on our side.”
“So…” Tubbo raises an eyebrow. “You’re saying we should call him for help?”
Ranboo hums in assent. “He seems more lenient with vigilantes than Rhapsody is, maybe he’d also be more willing to help with something like this- I mean, not that we should tell any heroes we’re vigilantes or anything.”
“All of their little group should be willing to help if they actually give a shit about Tommy, so I think Rhapsody might be along for the ride anyway,” Tubbo grumbles, but puts up no protest as Ranboo taps on the contact name. “So what, we just say we’re Tommy’s friends who just so happen to be expert hackers and we already tracked down where he’s being held?”
“The hacking part is all you,” Ranboo shrugs, “But yeah. It’s basically the truth anyway.”
“Do you want me to talk to them?”
Ranboo shakes his head. “I’ll do it. You’ve been working nonstop.”
Tubbo can hear the unspoken ‘I feel like I haven’t done enough’ hidden in that sentence, but he’ll wait to call his friend out on it until after they rescue Tommy.
The phone rings, and it only takes a few seconds for it to be picked up.
“Hey Tommy,” a deep, monotone but not unfriendly voice greets.
“Is this Techno?”
There’s an audible hesitation, then a shuffle that Tubbo would bet money means Ranboo’s been put on speaker. “Yeah. Who is this?”
Ranboo’s eyes flick over to Tubbo, who gives a nod that he hopes is encouraging. “Uh, it’s Ranboo. Tommy’s roommate.”
“Okay…” A slight confusion emanates from Techno’s voice. “Where’s Tommy, then? I kinda expected this to be him, considering you’re calling from his phone.”
“It’s- there’s not really any good way to say this,” Ranboo winces, shifting nervously. “He, uh… Tommy’s sort of been… kidnapped?”
There’s a long pause. When Techno speaks again, his voice sounds sharper and almost deadly. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”
“It’s not a-” Ranboo starts to protest, only to be steamrolled over as Techno continues.
“Kid, I don't know who you think you are-”
“Listen to me, Blade.” Ranboo snaps, tail lashing behind him angrily. A shocked silence rings out over the phone. “I’m being serious. We think we know who has him, but we need your help getting him back.”
The phone crackles with distant, muffled voices. (Tubbo hears a very distinct ‘He told them?’ and winces to himself.) When Techno finally returns, it’s with a determined air to his voice. “What do you need us to do?”
Ranboo glances over at Tubbo, suddenly unsure. The goat hybrid can tell what he’s thinking- the taller boy can be awkward in conversations at the best of times, and this entire situation is far from the best. “I, uh…”
Tubbo gestures for the phone, and the ender hybrid hands it over easily. “Hey Blade, can’t say I’m a fan- this is Tubbo, by the way. Tommy’s other roommate. I’d greatly appreciate it if the five of us- that is me, Ranboo, and your family- could meet up in person to discuss this considering the potential for interference on a phone call.”
A small shuffle, then a different, somewhat higher yet more mature voice takes control of the other side of the call. “Nice to meet you, mate. Before we take this any further, mind proving to us that you’re really who you say you are? Tommy’s talked about you and all, but I’d rather not take risks if what your friend said a minute ago is true.”
“Alright,” Tubbo drawls, “Tommy works at Sam’s Cafe, which is where he met Will and has continuously fucked up his order ever since. A few weeks ago, he found an alley cat that he named Shroud and gave to the Craft family- that’s you- to take care of since we couldn’t. He secretly has wings that he hides under his clothes almost all the time. They’ve got black feathers, and are smaller than most of those his age. If it makes you feel any better, you can meet us at our place instead of letting us into yours.”
The man who took the phone- judging from his voice, it must be Phil (better known to Tubbo as Archangel)- makes a noise of acknowledgement. In the background of the call Tubbo can faintly hear a third voice-
“Well, I believe them. Let’s do this.”
“We’ll be over in twenty,” Phil says, and the line goes dead before Tubbo can respond.
It doesn’t take long for the trio to arrive at the apartment.
A tension so thick it could be cut with a knife chokes the stale air filling the room. The laptop sits open on the table, the centerpiece of it all as it displays pages of information and evidence.
(Tubbo made sure to take out the bits that would reveal his vigilante identity before the Crafts arrived- still, he’s painfully aware of just how suspicious it looks that he somehow got all of this information.)
Will is pacing back and forth, curls messily pulled back into a loose ponytail. His clothes look like they were thrown on in a hurry- his shirt in particular looks like it might even be on backwards. If this were any other situation, Tubbo would be judging him just a little bit for his unkempt first impression. “You’re saying he was taken by Schlatt?”
“Yes. I showed you the message he sent,” Tubbo says- trying and failing to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“We don’t technically know that was from Schlatt, though,” Blade- Techno points out. “What could someone like him even possibly want from Tommy?”
A vague urge to stomp his foot like an angry child passes through Tubbo’s mind. “I know it was him. He doesn’t have to sign his fuckin’ name for me to figure it out.”
“Ah, sorry but-” Phil cuts in, sounding like he’s trying to be polite despite the tense atmosphere. “How exactly do you know Schlatt, again?”
Tubbo stares at him. “I think the message made it pretty damn clear.”
He would be more scathing, but Ranboo’s hand on his shoulder reminds him what they’re here for. The brunet sighs heavily before he continues. “Sorry, I’m a bit…” He waves a hand vaguely. “Stressed. You just didn’t want to jump to conclusions, yeah?”
Phil nods, and Tubbo nods back before explaining. “To be clear, I am Schlatt’s son- at least, biologically speaking. I don’t consider that fucker a father to me.”
“Schlatt has a son?” Will is frowning deeply when Tubbo turns towards him, but Ranboo answers before the goat hybrid has to.
“Well, had, since Tubbo is free now, but yeah. He wasn’t exactly public about it.”
Tubbo nods along with his friend’s explanation. “Mhm, kept me cooped up in the mansion all the time- didn’t want anyone to know about me for whatever reason. Can’t imagine why, the whole ‘single father’ thing might’ve gotten him some pity points from the public.”
If Tubbo really had to guess, he’d say that Schlatt hiding him was most likely a result of not wanting to deal with the possibility of someone using his son to get to him. He doesn’t bother saying it though- no use in divulging all his theories about why his father was never proud of him to a bunch of relative strangers.
“Do you think he kidnapped Tommy to get to you?”
“It seems likely,” Tubbo agrees. “There’s also… something I took when I ran away that I reckon he wants back.” He casts an uneasy glance in the direction of the creaky floorboard in the hallway that nobody other than Ranboo seems to pick up on. “Returning it isn’t an option.”
The last thing Manberg- or the world, really- needs is the revive book being in the hands of someone like Schlatt.
There’s a pause. Then-
“…You’re not goin’ to tell us what it is?” Techno’s question sounds more like a statement.
Tubbo shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not getting it.”
Tommy wouldn’t want them to give it over, anyway. Even at the cost of himself.
“Well…” Phil says, looking a bit unsettled. “This has been a lot to take in.”
“We know where Tommy is,” Will finally stops pacing, turning to look at the others in the room. “We need to make a plan to rescue him.”
Everyone agrees to that idea pretty quickly, much to Tubbo’s relief. With the information they already have about the building Tommy is being held in and the help of three professional heroes, it’s not nearly as difficult as it could’ve been.
There is one part of the new plan, though, that Tubbo doesn’t quite agree with.
“Tubbo, Ranboo, you two should stay behind while we go in and get Tommy.”
“What?!” Tubbo and Ranboo cry out in protest at the same time as Phil stares them down, unwavering.
“You’re teenagers, and moreover, you’re civilians. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
‘Civilians.’ Ha.
Tubbo and Ranboo exchange a glance.
Yeah, we’re not telling them unless we absolutely have to.
“We’re also less likely to get arrested for bein’ there,” Techno points out, “Since we’re with the PPA, we can just say we’re investigating a lead or something.”
Tubbo frowns. “That makes sense, I guess. But how are you going to get past all the locked doors and stuff?” Originally, he had been planning to use his own powers to blast through the doors- but if Techno, Phil, or Will see him do it, they’ll instantly be able to connect Tubbo’s powers with the vigilante, Apis.
Don’t get him wrong- of course he’d be willing to risk his identity for Tommy’s sake, but the heroes seem insistent that he and Ranboo stay in relative safety while they go and fetch the blonde.
“We’ve got gear for that sort of thing,” Will pipes in, “Laser cutters or if it comes down to it, small explosives. We’ll have to swing by our place and pick them up along with our hero suits.”
Ranboo sighs. “Fine. But we want a way to communicate with you guys if anything happens.”
“Fine by me,” Phil says with a shrug. With the plan in place, they make their way out of the apartment and set off in the Craft’s car as evening falls.
True to their word, they end up briefly stopping by the family’s residence, just long enough for the heroes to suit up and grab the equipment they need. Afterwards the five load into a minivan- Tubbo can’t quite muster up the spirit to poke fun at the choice of vehicle- that will hopefully blend in amongst the other cars in the city. The last row of seats has been gutted from the van, leaving room for supplies and the radio setup that will be used for Tubbo and Ranboo to keep contact with the heroes.
The car ride is quiet for the most part, Techno driving the van while the other four sit in the back and go over the rescue plan. They’re interrupted at one point by a loud ringing from Phil’s phone, who looks startled and frowns at the screen as he silences it. Tubbo manages to catch a glimpse of the caller ID before the screen goes dark- Manberg Medical Center.
Strange, he thinks.
Oh, well. It’s none of his business, really.
They make their way into the city, winding through several districts as the sky grows darker overhead. When they finally arrive, Techno parks the car in a tucked-away, hidden nook.
“Stay in the car,” Phil reminds them just before he and his sons depart. “Get us on the radio if you see anything weird or if anyone approaches you.” Tubbo and Ranboo nod, and with that the heroes disappear.
The old office building looks over them, dark and seemingly vacant.
“Don’t you worry, Tommy,” Tubbo whispers under his breath. “Help is on the way.”