Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Rift was a no go.

Grian could tell that much from a quick swoop down and a cursory glance at the ground from where he was perched in a tree, the rustling leaves concealing him from the strangers and Hermits alike that had gathered to gawk. At first he was just going to swoop down onto the shoulders of the first person he recognized, but now that he could see the ring of people that had formed and huddled together, barreling in like a bat out of The Nether probably would have given many of them heart attacks. 

In his defense, he hadn’t been expecting so many people, though that was a silly expectation to begin with. 

The only reason the people of the DreamSMP hadn't flocked to the server portal when its closure was announced was for that reason- it was announced . Eret had made sure every citizen no matter their age knew that they were cut off from the outside world, because even though the truth was scary, it was their server, and they deserved to know. He had admired her for that, because if it were up to him, a sheet would have been draped over it with a shoddy sign that said ‘closed for maintenance!’

It was a good thing, then, that he wasn’t the one in charge. 

If there was one thing that made him shudder, it was being completely in charge of something as important as a portal that connected their world to civilization. Even Hermits needed that connection for things that couldn’t be crafted, news of their friends and family not lucky enough to be able to constantly visit the server, and just for the sake of not being completely isolated. The Hermits had always tried to have a good relationship with as many access points to resources as possible- at least that’s what Xisuma would say during the weekly meetings Grian was prone to dozing off in. Whether that be cozying up to whoever the mayor of Skyblock was at the time or building a better relationship with the emperors thanks to the inclusion of Gem and Pearl, Hermitcraft was never short of helping hands.

Something that these people seemed to be desperately lacking. 

Grian hadn’t seen this many patched clothes since he had been on the DreamSMP for more than a couple of hours. Working jeans darned at the knees and sweaters with the elbows patched in mis-matched fabric was a sharp contrast to the clean clothes he had become re-accustomed to. Everyone he spotted was dressed oddly- a mix of warm and cold weathered clothes coming together to form a quaint little hodge podge. Pastel dresses with petticoats underneath, warm aprons tied over work clothes, overalls and galoshes covered in muck. Tommy would have a field day if she was here!

Maybe if they were all here long enough, he could talk to Xisuma about making a few extra diamonds by having him and Tommy set up a quick popup. A diamond per patch job would keep them all fed for- well he hoped they wouldn’t be there long enough to plan that far ahead.

He stopped himself short and cursed under his breath. 

“Tommy.” He grumbled. “Beans on toast that girl is going to be the death of me.”  

He had been so busy people watching that his reason for risking a flight through the rain had completely slipped his mind. If he weren’t perched so precariously then he would have smacked himself in the forehead. 

Tommy and Tubbo were out there somewhere. 

Somewhere in this big wide world, with a sky crammed with stars and a taste in the air that itched the back of his mind, were Tommy and Tubbo running rampant, and he wasn’t going to let himself properly relax until he knew the two of them weren't dead or causing property damage. He could only imagine what they were getting up to on their own! And yes, he knew they weren’t children anymore, but you couldn’t pay him to stop worrying about them. 

However, for them, worrying did not mean when he knew where they were he wasn’t going to give them the scolding of a lifetime, especially Tubbo! Not only were they driving Ranboo mad with worry, but Grian had no idea where it was that they were. It was beginning to drive him just as mad as Ranboo! 

Which, thanks to knowing the poor enderman for years, he knew was no easy feat. 

Speaking of people who were going to worry themselves into an early grave, if he craned his neck just so, he could spot Xisuma at the front of the crowd with a hand over his mouth, sticking out like a towering sore thumb amongst the citizens of this strange server. The bulk of his armor did nothing to mask his overall strangeness, and him mumbling to himself with a hand under his chin was enough to make Grian’s face warm just by counting all the eyes on him. 

Too many people were staring like he was a spectacle. They were watching him just as much as they were the now closed portal. 

Murmurs floated from person to person, all of them speaking softly, as if a singular noise was enough to rattle it back to life. If their glance wasn’t fixed on the admin who began to pace while lost in his own head, then they stared into the heart of The Rift waiting for…something. 

“Was this what caused that ruckus the other day?”

Grian’s ears perked up hearing a country twang break through the hushed whispers. They seemed to cease completely as the older gentleman shuffled to the front, with his hat in his hand and head cocked to the side. 

“Pardon me, fella-” He looked up at Xisuma. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Oh!” Xisuma nearly jumped in surprise. “Goodness!”

“Sorry to startle you, son.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright.” He gave the man a smile through his helmet. “I’m sorry, am I blocking anyone’s way?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Thank gosh for that.” He put a hand over his heart. “I’m Xisuma. I’m terribly sorry for the scene.”

“No trouble at all ‘suma. People ‘round here need to learn to mind their manners.” He looked over his shoulder, giving pointed looks to many of his fellow citizens. His eyes narrowed as he said, “Some of them are grown ‘nough to know better.”

At that, a few people shuffled nervously. Some turned their gaze away from the pair of them. Others began to scurry off, not wanting to be called out for being nosey, even if there was plenty to be nosey about. 

“Name’s James, pleasure to meetcha, Xisuma.” The man said, tipping his head even though his hat dangled at his side. 

“A pleasure to meet you as well. Are you, um, in charge around here? These people seem to respect you a lot.”

“Oh, me?” He shook his head. “My son’s the one in charge of our lil’ town. I just offered to come ‘round an’ see what all the hubbub was about while he was busy pig wranglin’. Couldn’t spend more than a tick at the ol’ store without hearin’ about this darn thing for months, and now it’s just-” 

He paused, and scanned Xisuma as best he could. His brow furrowed together for a moment, before he placed a hand on his arm. 

“Are y’all from…wherever this place goes?”

“Uh, yes, I’m afraid so.”

“I’m awful sorry.” He said with a shake of his head. “She’ll be awful upset to hear ‘bout this.”

“‘She’?”

“We got some youngin’s stayin’ over at our place.” He nudged his head to the left. “Do the names Tommy ‘n Tubbo mean anythin’ to ya?”

Grian nearly fell out of his place in the tree. He gripped the branches, and just as he was about to shout, it was done for him. 

“Tommy and Tubbo?!” He didn’t care how many more people stared at him as he blurted out, “They’re alright?!” 

James chuckled. “Right as rain, son. Those two were made for farm work.”

“Oh, thank goodness-” He put a hand over his heart. 

“Whoever raised ‘em did a mighty fine job.”

Grian found his feathers fluffing.

“If I see Scar and Doc then I’ll let them know.”

That just made him scoff. 

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as well, because what did Doc and Scar do that he hadn’t done ten times over? Really, he should be given an award for how much he had to teach those two, turning the poster children for ragamuffins into-

Okay. They were still ragamuffins; let’s all be honest with ourselves. 

But at least they were ragamuffins with a good work ethic and an appreciation for texturing thanks to him!

 “They’re bound to be worried sick!” Grian tuned back in to Xisuma’s mother hen-ning. “Thank you so much for watching them, really.”

“No need to thank us- we’re happy to play host. And it helps to have extra hands ‘round.”

“Honestly I’m just glad they haven’t caused any major property damage.”

That got a chuckle out of James. 

The poor sod had no idea just how true that was.

“If you do see ‘em, tell ‘em to head to Tumble Town.” James put his hat back on his head, adjusting his rabbit ears that poked out of the woven straw. “I’m actually headin’ back there myself. Would ya like a ride?”

“I-I appreciate it, thank you, but I think I’ll stay here. In case more of my friends show up. Thank you though, thank you so much. Would you let those two know where we are?”

“Can do. They’ve been loads of help ‘round the farm. I think my wife’ll actually be thrilled if they stay longer.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Please, let me know if there’s any way I can be of help- if you need it, of course!”

“...Any idea how to fix a tractor?”

A smile graced Xisuma’s face. “I’m sure one of us knows how. If I see Cub, Tango, Impulse, or Doc, I’ll send them right to- Tumble Town, was it?”

“Best darn empire on this here server.”

“Makes that easy to remember!”

The man walked off, and in an instance, Xisuma sighed to himself. The smile on his face remained, but it didn’t meet his eyes as he turned back to face The Rift, his own reflection staring back at him. 

‘At least those two are safe’, Grian thought to himself as his eyes dotted across the crowd, trying to make out any more familiar faces besides Xisuma. 

Although parts of the crowd began to dwindle, more people took the places of those who had grown bored and shuffled away, the novelty having worn off. He didn’t allow his eyes to flit away as he counted just how many people were left between him and The Rift. 

One, two, ten, twenty-

Too many to swoop in without making a scene. 

He hung his head and let out a sigh that wracked his whole body. 

Gods with familiar faces, storms that lasted far longer than they should and could disappear in mere ticks, mobs with twisted and grotesque features- those were only a few of the things that unnerved him about this world that he was supposed to know like the back of his hand. It was the entire reason he had been so insistent upon going through The Rift in the first place. It was just Hermitcraft Season 7! 

It would be a walk down memory lane for most of them, and for him, well, he would need to have a chat with himself about making deals with strange mushroom deities. 

In his head he had already built up a fantasy where they all arrived, each of them finding something to do outside of their regular routine. He had imagined and laughed at the thought of what Xisuma’s face would look like, but now that he was seeing it for himself, he wanted to gag and turn away. 

If he had known where he would be spat out like a wad of gum, then he wouldn’t have taken the risk. No memories of better, simpler times were worth such a strife. He would have stepped in all by himself in the dead of night, everyone else asleep in their beds and none the wiser. He wouldn’t have made a whole spectacle of it, and he certainly wouldn’t have let Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and the kids follow him like lambs to slaughter. 

If it weren’t for his idiocy then they would all be safe at home enjoying the snowfall the nymphs had worked so very hard on, making hot chocolate and adding squares to their Hearth’s Warming quilt. The dolls Tommy had painstakingly made years ago with worn out fabric would be placed on top of the equally tedious to make mantle. He could see Impulse popping over for a surprise visit, Gem and Pearl not far behind. 

Cleo would take the kids to help pick out the tree that would sit in the middle of the server, and she’d lug it back all the way by themself, wanting to show off. Joe would teach everyone the carols of old, ones that still used ‘thou’, ‘thee’, and ‘gay’ to mean happy. He could practically hear the laughter and feel the warmth. 

Then he remembered where he was. 

His wings fluttered in annoyance, and his feathers stood on end when Xisuma took a step forward, and pressed his hand to the solid glass that coated The Rift. A gasp rippled through the sea of people, and it happened again when he tried to shove himself against it. 

“Don’t strain yourself, sweet face!” Grian heard Keralis, but couldn’t see him. 

He must have been amongst the sea of people that remained, though instead of looking at Xisuma like he was a zoo animal, they had broken off into small clusters of gossip. Mothers talked in hushed whispers while children clung to their pant legs. A group of teenagers began to try and climb the rocky cliffside, only to be scolded by an older gentleman in a blue work dress. Less and less were becoming interested in The Rift.  

Meanwhile, Xisuma just responded to Keralis with a grunt as he tried again. 

“I mean it, Shishwammy! You’re just being silly now!”

“I-I have to try something!” He exclaimed, pushing as hard as he could. 

“‘Something’ doesn’t have to be hurting yourself!” 

Even Grian couldn’t help but wince. His feet were digging into the dirt, his palms grappling with the slippery, glass surface. There was no way he was going to be able to properly hold on- that was just how physics worked. 

“Uh, sir?” A woman with a fluffy fox tail tucked underneath her work apron piped up. She approached despite her ears being pressed against her head, and a firm frown across her muzzle hidden beneath a mask. “I don’t think that’s um…working…”

“Listen to- what’s your name sweet face?”

“Uh…Melody?”

“Listen to Melody, Shishwammy!” Keralis cupped his hands over his mouth. “You won’t help anyone if you hurt yourself!”

Xisuma paused, and then let out a long groan, leaning forward with his forehead pressed against the solid wall. 

His arms dangled at his side, and honestly, it made him look a little pathetic. He conceded with just a huff, and closed his eyes when he felt Keralis’s warm, feather light touch brush against his spine. 

“That’s my good boy-” Keralis rubbed a hand up and down his back. 

“I-I can’t-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He didn’t say anything. He just tucked his head into Keralis’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, his own slumping. 

Grian pretended not to hear it as more murmurs arose, buzzing in the air like summer cicadas. He did this by looking anywhere else - anywhere that wasn’t the two love birds talking in hushed voices that made anyone under the age of twenty want to barf. 

Which was how he wound up watching as paper balls were tossed at The Rift. Just above Xisuma’s head sailed wads of parchment, cheers erupting whenever one hit it dead in the center. It had dawned on him only then that the reason he had been plucking rubbish from his base for months now was because these people had been chucking any old thing through the ripples. 

He scowled to himself, and turned away so he couldn’t see any more faces. 

He knew Xisuma and Keralis were there, why should he stay any longer?

Just as he was about to spread his wings and soar off, he spotted something from the corner of his eyes. He tilted his head ever so slightly over his shoulder and he watched as a little girl toddled up right beside Xisuma’s leg, and tried to throw a paper boat into The Rift. 

Her face fell when it just fluttered down and landed in the dirt.

Xisuma quickly paused his pity party. For once, he noticed before Keralis did. 

He looked down at her and smiled softly despite his panic. 

“Hello there-” He said, his voice gentle as possible. “That’s quite the nice boat you’ve made there.”

“Oh…thank you.” She shuffled her feet nervously and stared down at her embroidered sandals. “I made it with my mama.”

“It’s very nice. Whose it for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My abuela.” She said. “My brother told me the portal goes to the heavens.”

“Oh…he…he did?”

Grian’s face fell as well as Xisuma’s. 

This little girl thought The Rift led to the heavens. 

This poor girl had been sending paper boats through this entire time, and he had just assumed they were more rubbish and tossed them in the bin. He remembered thinking they were from Pearl, or Tommy, or Scar, and tossing them after a week of them collecting dust on the floor of his base. He had even brought it up at a H.H.H, pleading for whoever was using his basement as a trach receptacle to please stop. There was a perfectly good bin at spawn, thanks to Pearl!

Xisuma gulped and kneeled down to the little girl. He slowly reached a hand out, and when she didn’t flinch or hit him away, ruffled up her curls.  

“Tell you what. How about I hold onto this for your grandmother?” He picked up the paper boat in his palms ever so gently, as if it were a precious diamond. “I’ll give it to her when I can.”

Her eyes widened and she thrust out her hand, her pinkie extended. 

She didn’t say anything, but stared into his helmet with all the determination of a seven year old with unwavering beliefs. She stared him down, almost daring him to walk away before sealing the deal. 

Xisuma chuckled, and wrapped his pinkie around hers. “

“Viviana!” A woman called. “Vamos!”

“Coming mama!” The girl called back. 

Grian watched as she broke out into a sprint, only to pause, just so she could give one last glance to Xisuma over her shoulder before she skipped away, meeting back up with her mother at the edge of the crowd. She reached for her hand, both of them heading off towards a stable just over a hill. She chattered her ear off the entire time in Spanish, and it wasn’t until she was a speck in the distance that he looked back towards-

“Shishwammy?” Keralis asked as he shuffled to stand beside him. 

“...What are we going to do?” Xisuma whispered, his voice wavering as he clutched the paper boat so hard the delicate folds began to wrinkle. 

“...I don’t know.”

He let out a hollow chuckle. “I was afraid you’d say that, dear…”

Grian had seen enough. 

It was clear that none of them were going anywhere anytime soon. 

He had clucked his tongue before taking off again.

Grian soared for what felt like hours, though judging by the sun beating down on him, it was only a  few clicks between him deciding to head off, and  landing when his back began to ache too much to go on. He spotted a patch of desert with a small billow of fire coming from the ground, and swooped down like a seagull narrowing in on a French fry. 

He landed without any fanfare in the middle of what was obviously somebody’s campsite. 

The fireplace was still sending smoke up into the air- hence how Grian found it in the first place. He shuffled closer, and peaked into the pot hanging by a hook just above the flame, and at the sight of a still warmed stew, his stomach growled. 

He looked to the left. An orange tent was pitched in the sand and silt, a pair of moccasin slippers sitting right beside the entrance to be worn later.

He looked to the right. A double chest had been left out in the open with a worn iron pickaxe propped up against it. The top was bulging with whatever it contained, a sliver of fabric dangling from the broken lock like the tongue of a salivating animal. 

“Well, don’t mind if I do!”

Without hesitation, Grian grabbed a bowl that had been left on the side and scooped himself up a serving with the ladle that bobbed up and down in the broth. 

He threw his head back in a groan. Despite the heat of the desert- or maybe it was the prairie since he could see the tall grass flowing back and forth in the gentle breeze- nothing made him feel better like a hearty, well earned stew. The beef, the potatoes, the herbs, it all melted in his mouth, making him want to find whoever made this and kiss them.

It wasn’t until he had licked the bowl clean and set it back down as if he hadn’t helped himself to a serving in the first place that he began to grow bored again. He tapped his foot against the sand, and whistled, hoping something would fall out of the sky to stave off the feeling of guilt for eating some random person’s stew. 

That was when he spotted the entrance. 

Just like any other cave entrance, it was covered in a layer of grime that could never be scrubbed away, and patches of soot leftover from torches being placed over and over again. A lantern hung just above the canopy of vines and leaves, which he had to pull back like a curtain so he could properly step inside. 

As he descended deeper and deeper down the staircase, he kept his wings tucked carefully against his back. 

The only noise was that of his own breathing as he relied on the lantern left at every corner to navigate through what was otherwise complete and utter darkness. All he had done was follow the low echo of the hum through the crumbling and twisting turns, hoping to be turned back around to the exit. He never was the greatest with directions when he wasn’t getting a bird’s eye view, and the place looked so abandoned that he assumed it was- despite the artifacts behind glass walls being well maintained upon closer inspection- so he just kept walking.

And walking.

And more walking. 

Without knowing how long he’d been wandering for, he was beginning to assume he would die down here. No food, no water, no sunlight- he was starting to think this would be the end of Grian. Again!

That was until, of course, he quite literally bumped into someone. 

The last thing he had been expecting was anyone not completely mummified to be walking around in such cramped corridors. 

It had startled Grian out of his skin when he turned the corner and there he was. 

“Oof!”

“Oh goodness-!”

He landed flat on his ass with a groan; the stranger having fallen as well. 

“Oh gosh-” The voice croaked as the body it belonged to pulled itself back up onto its feet. “I am so, so sorry I-”

“‘s fine mate, don’t-”

“- should have been looking where I was-”

“-No, it’s on me, this place is a maze-”

“-I wasn't expecting anyone down here! Typically it’s just me and-”

“- how do you see anything down here? There’re barely any torches!”

The two were talking over one another, their voices shaking the very foundation of the catacombs. 

The delicate roof trembled and the floor quaked as Grian rose to his feet and dusted the dirt off of his jumper. He scowled, muttering something about having just washed this damn thing, apparently so engrossed by a brand new stain that he hadn’t noticed the man had stopped speaking, silence hanging awkwardly in the air like an off kilter painting. 

“Flew circles around Spawn- there isn’t a single laundromat?” He scowled under his breath. “Out, out you damned spot.”

The curses and mutterings sunk like a stone in the stomach of the other. His already gaunt face had gone ghostly white, and the grip he had on a leatherbound book was beginning to slip. 

THUD.

Without snapping out of his jabbering, Grian leaned down to pick up the book. He only glanced at it, so engrossed in hearing his own voice bounce off the walls, that it was only when he looked down to read the title carved with gold that he paused to take a breath, and read it aloud. 

“‘The Longest Winter: How we Survived One Hundred Years of No Sun’.” He said. 

He did not hear the man suck in a sharp breath. 

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it. Is it any good?” He asked. “Haven’t had much time for reading lately. I know, I know, it’s good for me or whatever, but I’m up to my ears in editing and-”

“...Grian?”

With a single croak, Grian paused. 

Everything from the book in his hands to the walls around him faded away, leaving him to float aimlessly. Though the air had left his lungs in an instant, he didn’t move an inch for fear of looking up and seeing-

“That is you, isn’t it?”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line across his face. 

“By the gods…it is. I can’t- how are you here?”

He wouldn’t say anything. He remained silent, even as two arms reached out to grab him by the shoulders, boney fingers clinging desperately to the fabric of his jumper. 

Especially someone who looked so ragged, with bags under their eyes that could rival even his own. 

The ill-fitting clothes, the shaggy hair and beard, and the way his belt clung awkwardly to the skin and bones of his hips were enough to show Grian that this man- a man who wore his friend’s face poorly like a mask- had been down here in this damp and dark crypt for so long he may have crawled from one of the coffins themselves. 

“No … not you too.” Grian pleaded as he frantically shook his head. 

“Grian-”

“No!” He pulled himself away, as if the man’s hands had burnt him something awful. “Stop pretending you’re him!”

“G- how did you- Joel told me you were here, but I-”

He pressed his hands against his ears, and with a heaving breath like a cornered animal, pressed himself firmly against the wall. Gravel and stone jutted into his back, and he squeezed his eyes shut so he couldn’t see how the man crouched down to his level, the audible crack coming from his knees making him heave even harder. 

He didn’t want to hear the rest of his sentence. He kept his ears thoroughly covered, only for the words to pierce through anyway, striking him right in the heart. 

‘I thought he was going mad again.’

How do you hear something like that about such a dear friend and not just completely keel over?

Grian flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“...Grian.” The man spoke patiently, as if to a child. “Look at me.”

Grian did not obey his request. 

“...Please?”

“...How?” He pleaded in a broken voice. “How? First Joel now…”

“So I’m not the first…”

The man pulled his hand away, and cradled it to his chest. He looked down at the ground, tears already beginning to well in his sapphire eyes. He tried to blink them away, but they cascaded down his cheeks faster than he could banish them. 

“...How long?”

His eyes widened. 

“You don’t-”

“How. Long.” Grian snapped, and when he looked up to face him, his eyes blazed a burning, dangerous violet. 

“You don’t want to know.” Pix said firmly. “It will only hurt-”

“How long has it been?!” He shouted so loud that the floor shook, and a vein throbbed out of his forehead. 

He got a sigh in return. Pix hung his head. In shame? In guilt? Was he just unable to look Grian in the eye as he purposefully skirted around the painful truth?

“...Longer than you think, my friend.”

He scanned his wrinkled, furrowed face for any sign, any at all that this whole thing- not just the endless maze of tombs, and not just the way he stared at him like he had just seen a ghost, but everything- everything- was one big joke. A prank that they could all laugh at over a cuppa, and the way that not only Pixlriffs was looking at him, but Joel as well would be nothing but a foggy memory to haunt his nightmares. 

With a pained wail, Grian keeled over, and grasped the hem of his mud caked khakis. He choked back a sob, and his entire body trembled, as the weight of the world began to crush his twisted visage of Atlas. All he could make out through his own muffled cries, was the rise and fall of his chest. 

“...Five thousand.”

His head whipped up so fast his neck was at risk of snapping. 

“Five… thousand?” He gagged on the word. 

All he got was a nod in return.

“Five thousand what?!”

“...You know the answer to that, Grian.” He said solemnly.

Pix stared down at Grian, and reached out to run a hand through his hair. He stopped to brush against his cheek with a calloused palm, and wiped away a stray tear, only for more to take its place. 

“It’s been five thousand years since I’ve last seen your face…and you haven’t aged a day, have you?”

Grian shook his head as a pitiful sob wracked through him. 

Pix let out a wet, pithy laugh. He stared over his head and right past him, staring unfocused at the wall as if it were the one at his feet, crying for forgiveness from a forgotten sin. He closed his eyes, and took a slow, steady breath. 

When he opened his eyes and looked back down-

Grian was nowhere to be seen. 

Chapter Text

“I… what?”

That was all Ranboo managed to intelligibly say.

Their jaw was firmly on the ground, wide enough to catch not only flies, but moths, butterflies- maybe even birds and bats. Whatever had floated into their mouth had lodged itself in their stomach, jostling it around and around until they wanted to keel over with their arms wrapped around their sides. They could see themselves falling to the floor in a fit of utter dramatics, and even though nothing became of it, their knees still ached as if they had gone thud against the wood. 

“W-what do you mean you ‘wi’-”

“Sons of the devil’s mistress-” 

Niki growled to herself as she stared down at the mess upon her floor, her hands on her hips. She seemed not to have heard them, or if she did, she was pretending not to hear them- a trick they knew far too well.

There were plenty of times where Phil would be pacing the floor and attempting to explain something to the two of them, like potions or astronomy. He gave a lot of little lectures in his cabin, and when he spotted Niki zoning out, he would stand in front of her until her eyes landed back onto him. She would always feign innocence, batting her eyes and saying she simply couldn’t hear him! She hadn’t realized he had been talking to her, not at her- and it worked! Every single time! Without fail!

"You’re a witch.” Ranboo had said once when they left the warmth of the kitchen and stood on the bridge under the glowing northern lights that weaved themselves between the clouds like multicolored thread. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a witch? I could’ve kept it a secret!”

“One, respectfully, no you could not. And two, what are you talking about?” 

“You’re a witch! You did that- that thing you did on Phil!”

“Ranboo, I have no idea what you are talking about.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders. 

“With your eyes! Your eyes got big, and you bat your eyelashes all cute-”

“Aww, you think I am cute?”

“Uh- I mean- you look- you’re my friend so-!”

She laughed at them, and their blossoming red cheeks puffed out like a frog’s.

“C’mon man…”

“You know I am just teasing.”

“It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

She laughed again.

“Fine-” They huffed and crossed their arms. They hadn’t followed her down the steps- instead choosing to freeze out in the cold because they’d rather risk dying of hypothermia than be teased. “Keep your secrets.”

“Oh, come on- do not be like that!”

“Like what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Difficult.”

“W- hey! I-I’m not the one who bewitched our good friend Phil! He made us cookies!”

“They were a little bland.”

“Okay, well-”

Niki let out another laugh- so melodic it echoed through the otherwise silent night. 

Snow weaved its way through her pale pink hair like strings of pearls. Her eyes had a twinkle of mischief in them, and that was what Ranboo remembered most about that night. How she had stopped looking remotely human in their eyes. How she grew a grin that while it suited her, made them understand why she was amongst them in the Syndicate. 

The job, not for the faint of heart, was perfect for her.

“That is not being a witch.” She said with a giggle behind her mittened hand. “That is an advanced technique my people call ‘lying.’”

The woman in front of them had no such look. 

She simply sighed, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“T’was the last cup as well.” She said. 

“It…was?”

“They’re porcelain, laddie. ‘Tis easy for them to fail the test of time- oh, of all the things that decide to go wrong today-”

Her brows had pinched together so seamlessly that the deep crease suddenly made sense. 

Clearly she had been frowning for far longer than Ranboo could comprehend.

She pursed her lips together, and though they couldn’t see it, they knew she was biting the lower part of her lips, as she tended to do. Her eyes darted back and forth across the floor for somewhere safe to step, so she was completely got off guard by Ranboo suddenly blurting out-

“Why would you even joke about something like that?”

She sucked in a sharp breath so suddenly it made them flinch.

Her head snapped up from where she had been staring at the mess. 

All at once her features softened completely. No sharp edges were left. 

“What?” She said, breathless.

At first they hadn’t been sure that they had said what they said. It was a thought, sure, but for the most part, they were good at keeping those inside thoughts inside where they belonged. After one too many accidental blurt outs during meetings in New L’manburg, and being caught mumbling to themselves when they’d go from their house to Techno’s, anything they wanted to say aloud would be jotted down in their Memory Book- back when they always had it on hand. Pages and pages would be filled with a stream of consciousness too wild for any lone boat to traverse, so incomprehensible that reading it back would need a brand-new cipher. 

But they didn’t have their Memory Book on hand. 

Their head must have been so full that the words had nowhere else to go but out. 

“Why would you lie about-”

“RANBOO STOP!”

All Ranboo had done was take one step forward, and suddenly she had thrust her arm out in front of her as if they were about to lunge. 

A scream died in their throat as they stumbled backwards. Their chest tightened into something borderline unbearable when her hand brushed against their chest, which she quickly pulled back once she saw their tail thrashing like a whip. 

Her nails, like always, had been bitten down to the nub. The rest of her might have changed, but she hadn’t managed to kick that bad habit. 

There was no coat of polish in the world that could cover up those jagged edges, though the Niki that Ranboo knew would always try. Pinks, reds, oranges, violets, all either traded from villagers or made with dye and a foul smelling goop in Phil’s kitchen. A layer of white sat on the pads of her fingers like powdered sugar- a stark contrast to the rest of her sunken and ashen look. 

They weren’t sure if this new look suited her or not. 

Ranboo opened their mouth again and nothing came out.

She cradled her fist up to her heart, and with her free hand, rubbed up and down her wrist. She only looked at them from the furthest corner of her eye, only to flit away before they could say anything about it- something she had always been good at.

“Just…just wait for me to sweep this mess up, aye?” She said in a strained plea. “It be dangerous. Y-Ye don’t have shoes on and-”

“Okay.” They said simply. “Okay.” 

“...Thank ye, lad. The last thing I want is for ye to be-”

Niki reached her hand out as if to touch them. 

Perhaps to brush the strands of hair that had fallen out of place back behind their ear. Or maybe to adjust their collar, because it was all wrinkled from the ride across the server. She could have gone to pluck the leaf that stuck out from behind their head, something they seemed not to have noticed yet.

But Ranboo flinched. 

She blinked once. Twice. Three times to make sure she had seen what she had seen don’t. 

“...Hurt.” She finished her sentence with a quivering lip.

Her arms fell slack at her sides. She stood in front of Ranboo all by her lonesome, and right away she began to tense back up. She stood so rigid that as she was bathed in moonlight, she very well could have been made entirely of marble. 

“Don’t uh…” 

Ranboo avoided her eyes as much as they could, staring firmly at the shattered teacup, the porcelain white like bones- their own seeming to vibrate underneath their skin, urging them to break into a run. They bore a hole into the floor, as if that would do anything to help. 

“Don’t you need to um, get a broom? Maybe?”

Their voice was so much smaller than they wanted it to be. They scolded themselves for the words that were uttered like a child, and that was exactly what it seemed they were- a child shoved far into the corner and told not to move.

“...Aye. Ye be right.” 

Niki could have clicked her heels and glided across the hall instead of the little scurry she did and they wouldn’t have noticed. 

She had vanished in the blink of an eye- of course they hadn’t noticed.  

They barely even noticed how the countertop behind them felt against their grasp, their body acting on its own in a desperate attempt to stay upright. Ranboo was standing in a half halo of broken shards, and yet that was the furthest thing from their mind right now. It didn’t matter that one wrong step could mean sharp porcelain lodged in their hoof. It didn’t matter that they were cornered, because right now, all they could see was the darkness begin to cram them further back against the stone that dug into their spine. 

Niki was back in the kitchenette faster than they could twitch their tail, using a broom that looked older than the cottage itself to sweep away the bits of porcelain. She rested the metal dust pan on the ground, and grumbled under her breath as she got to work- the bigger chunks needing to be picked up by hand. 

Ranboo stayed perfectly still as she did this, though not by choice. If their legs weren’t cemented to the floor then they would have sprinted as far as their hooves could carry them- hopefully back to The Rift. They could see it in their mind's eye, and yet their body refused to listen to their brain as it continued to scream. 

This is a trap. 

Go find one of the Hermits. They’d know what to do. 

This isn’t Niki. This can’t be Niki. 

Even their breathing had grinded to a halt, strained huffs coming out of their nose as they replayed her words over again, each one she had said. 

Did she always speak so gruffly? Her accent; was there something off about it? The words she said were right, but the way she said them-

Ranboo wasn’t sure what gaps they were meant to be filling in to make any of this make sense. How long had it been since they had spoken to Niki over a call and a cup of tea? How long since they had seen each other face to face, actually memorized every hair out of place and twinkle in their eyes? How could they really know for sure if this was just how Niki was!

Maybe! Just maybe! There aren’t any gaps at all!

They let out a hollow laugh. 

They still hadn’t moved from their designated spot. 

It was for my own good, they tried to tell themself, familiar words creeping into their ears and sugar coating the part of their brain that wanted to shout, and stomp, and shout until they were given a proper explanation. She knew I would cut myself. She had to have known. That’s why she yelled. That’s why she yelled- to stop you from doing something stupid. Tubbo would’ve done the same, why are you getting so upset?

Their cheeks burned in silence.

Were they just pulling at a thread that wasn’t there, and hoping they could follow it to an answer that made sense? 

It wouldn’t be the first time, but without Tubbo to reel them back in, it would take a lot more than a firm hand on their shoulder to bring them back down into what they assumed was reality. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t try though.

“Ye should sit down.” She said firmly, though the warmth never left her eyes. “Ye look like yer about to catch yer death.”

“Y-yeah…yeah, yeah I'll sit-”

As if they were injured, she allowed them to lean against her. With the floor now spotless, it was easier to maneuver them easily, making sure they didn’t slip as they wobbled like a new-born doe. She half expected them to bleat and would’ve giggled at the thought if she thought her lips could form a smile. 

When Ranboo slumped down in the chair, and let out a heavy sigh of relief, Niki let out her own sigh as well. 

She briefly hovered over them, giving them a once over to make sure nothing was out of place- no bruises, no bumps, nothing sticking out of their hoof that shouldn’t. It was a miracle they were able to sit down at all! 

They half expected the seat to collapse under the weight resting on their shoulders. Their hands were curled against the arm of the chair, nails digging into the veneer. 

“Ranboo?”

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Do ye still want tea?”

“Tea?” They repeated dumbly like a parrot. 

She nodded. “Aye. I purchased a lavender blend just the other day at the market. Ye… do ye still like lavender?”

Ranboo gulped down the lump in their throat. 

What’s wrong with me?

“Y-Yeah- I do, actually.” They attempted to crack a smile. “With milk? If that’s- if you have it.”

“Wait just a moment.” She said, shuffling towards the icebox. “It helps to befriend the locals. ‘Hath tried to make meself scarce, but, oh, you would not believe the kind of gossip the people ‘round these lands like to toss about. Why, I have one story that’d put hair on yer chest, laddie!”

At that, they couldn’t help but chuckle.

Niki was talking, but her words were going in one ear and coming right out of the other. A story that they couldn’t follow was being told as they poured water into a kettle, and set it on the singular stovetop to boil. 

They politely nodded along in hopes that she didn’t catch on to the fact they hadn’t said more than an ‘mhm’ or a ‘wow, that’s crazy’, because if she did, they'd have to explain why their brain was stuffed with fluff instead of thoughts- since that was the only explanation they could think of for why they had doubted her at all. 

This wasn’t some stranger who had clicked her tongue until she had Ranboo eating out of her palm like a stray cat. She was no crone like they had first thought. She was the furthest thing from the old woman they had been expecting when she dropped her hood. 

In fact if the Niki Ranboo was thinking of heard that they had thought her to be anything of the sort, then she’d kick their ass into next Hearth’s Warming!

Or put laxatives into their baked goods. 

That was a very real possibility that although she only did once, once was enough to make absolute certain they never got on her bad side like the poor sod who dared to be rude to her after a particularly stressful shift.  

When she opened up the icebox they were met with the smell of bread wrapped in a moist towel to keep it fresh, meats kept on ice, and a myriad of spices. 

If they closed their eyes, they could almost imagine themselves back in Phil’s familiar kitchen, where houseplants tickled their elbows no matter which way they turned. They could pretend that they could hear the faint songs playing on the radio, ones that they didn’t know, but Niki always seemed to, humming and dancing around to her heart’s content. 

In lieu of music, they actually did find themself humming. 

Their eyes were shut so they couldn’t see the smile that tugged at her lips as the words left theirs, because if they could, they would have started singing louder. Niki couldn’t recall the last time she had heard this song without seeking it out herself, and listened to Ranboo hum under their breath. 

“I can still recall, our last summer, I still see it all.”

She ripped open the tea packet with her teeth. 

“Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain.”

She stirred it around with a thin, silver spoon.

“Our last summer, memories that remain.”

She put the lid back on the teapot, and took a deep, deep breath. 

All she had to do was breathe. 

Hold it in. 

And then let it all out. 

Just like she had been taught by... 

She shook her head, and turned back to look at Ranboo, who had let the song be overtaken by silence. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead found them  trembling, their hands grabbing the end of their blanket turned cloak and pulling it tighter, as they could now feel the agonizing chill that had settled into the room. The fireplace did nothing to quell it. 

Any and all warmth was gone in an instant, though that didn’t seem to bother Niki. 

She just knelt down in front of them, keeping her gaze as low as her voice. 

She didn’t dare look up from the floorboards or say another word, the silence hanging like hooks that snagged the back of their toga until it felt like it was choking them. 

“Ranboo…” She said gently. She put her hand on their knee and squeezed. 

They gulped down the lump in their throat that landed in the pits of their gut like an anchor.

“I suppose that ye have…questions.”

To say that they had ‘questions’ was an understatement. 

Standing before them was a woman wearing the face of one of their best friends in the whole world. 

A woman who they had watched grow from a timid but outspoken baker making treats for the people of New L’manburg through a time of mourning, to a brave, almost warrior-like vision of hope for the people she had come back to aid. Her hair might have changed from pink, to blonde, to a split dye, to pink again, and her physique may have gone through phases of starvation to eventual muscle, but it was still her. 

It was still her voice, speaking as calmly as ever over the ringing in their ears. 

It was still her eyes that just barely met theirs, focusing instead on the center of their forehead as she told them to take deep, steady breaths. 

It was still her hands covered in all the burns and bumps that came from a lifetime's worth of experience in the kitchen that held theirs. 

But Ranboo knew it wasn’t her. 

“I-I want to believe it’s you.” They whispered. They squeezed her hands tight, tears burning the corners of their eyes. “I want-”

“I told ye…I’m not who ye think I am.” She hung her head so that they wouldn’t see the tears freely rolling down her cheeks. They could feel her hands shaking and held them tighter. “Ye hath no idea how much I wish I was her. Every day I awake, and I pray and…”

She stifled a sob. 

“The gods are cruel.” She whispered. “If there was even one decent being upon the thrones of Mojang, then she would be in my stead. She would- she’d-”

A tear drop landed onto their palms with a sizzle as she brushed her lips against their knuckles like the keys of a piano. 

“I am not her.” She said. “I never will be. Niki Nihachu was- there is no replacing her in this world.”

“I-I never said that-”

“Ye did not have to.” She spat, venom dripping from every syllable. “I am not her. I am not…”

Again, she hung her head. 

Clearly this had been a point of shame long before she found Ranboo. 

“Then…who are you?”

Was that the wrong thing to ask? Ranboo wasn’t completely sure if it was or not. 

Even more so when she let out a hollow chuckle with nothing behind it. 

“Would ye believe me if I told ye?”

“I…maybe?”

She let go of them to wipe the tears from her own eyes, as she has done before, and will continue to do. Her home was no longer hers to cry in. The solitude was no longer her only witness. 

On instinct Ranboo reached out and brushed a stray away with their thumb. They ignored the smallest of burns, and instead, focused on giving her the reassuring smile that they would want to be given if their roles were reversed. If they were on their knees, cursing the names of the gods. 

She put her hand over theirs. 

She squeezed her eyes shut until the tears were back where they belonged. 

“...I best start at the beginning then.”

The tea kettle's sharp whistle couldn’t have come at a better time. 

Chapter Text

“Y’know, one of these days you're going to drive yourself mad.”

Grian glanced over his shoulder at Martyn, cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

The same sly grin he always had was crookedly plastered on his, having been there since that afternoon when he played the most fantastic prank on Timmy- you just had to be there. The laughter bubbled out from his lungs, every exhale being punctuated by another giggle. He childishly kicked his legs back and forth in the water, sending splashes all around. 

“I’m serious!” He playfully punched him in the shoulder. 

“So am I!” He chirped back. 

Martyn rolled his eyes. Clearly Grian wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, which wouldn’t be a problem, if he was also wasn’t in the mood to listen to reason. And Martyn liked to think he was a pretty reasonable guy!

“You’ve got that look.”

“Do I? I hadn't noticed!”

His sass got him splashed. He sputtered and spat out the dirty sea water. 

“Gross!”

“That’s what you get for trying to make this a ‘lesson’.” Grian flicked his cigarette butt into the sea, and watched it bob up and down. “If I knew you were just going to pester me then-”

“I am not pest-”

“I would’ve just hung out with Netty.”

Martyn’s cheeks turned pink at just the mention of her name. 

“Grody.”

“Did…did you just say ‘grody’?” 

“I didn’t realize you were going deaf. Maybe we should tone down the explosives before-”

“I don’t have to be here you know”! Martyn gestured to himself with a huff. “BigB and Tom set up a game of darts I could HAPPILY be playing right now!”

“Then go do that.” 

Grian reached into his pocket for another cigarette. This was his second pack of the day, and judging from the moon in the sky, his first of tomorrow. They didn’t exactly have clocks yet, so it was a guesstimate what time was reflected in the water below. 

He could feel eyes boring into his neck when with a flick of his lighter, the cigarette was lit. He blew out a ring of smoke, and chuckled, watching it float upwards into the rolling clouds of the night. 

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Obviously I know that.”

“Then why are you staying?”

“Because-” Martyn said definitely, so much so that Grian found himself forced to listen. “I don’t feel good leaving you alone.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes like a teenager. “Whatever, mum.”

“You say that now! You say that now, but one day- and I know you, so I know this’ll happen- you’re going to wake up, and whether you want to admit it or not, you’ll be looking for somebody to screw your head back on straight. But if you keep going like this…”

He let out a sigh and looked up. 

“Then I don’t think there’s going to be anybody left.”

Grian stared at him for far longer than he meant to. His eyes began to water, so he blinked, something he often forgot to do. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” He flippantly brushed him off, ignoring how tight his chest all of a sudden became. His heart beat like it was going to fall right out of a cavity he was completely unaware of, and the only thing stopping it was his own hand, discreetly curled around his shirt pocket. “I’m fine being alone.”

“You say that but…”

“...But?”

“Ah, never mind.” Martyn shook his head. “Come on, I’m getting bored of just sitting around having a chin wag. Pretty sure Salem’s gone and managed to make some moonshine in her bathtub. You want in?”

“And watch you get hammered?” Grian practically leapt to his feet, wanting nothing more than to get away from his own reflection. He stomped out the barely lit cigarette, and the child-like grin returned to its rightful place. “Beats listening to you try and be a philosopher.”

“Socrates has nothing on me.”

“Have you even read Socrates?”

“Have you?”

“...Last one to Salem’s is a rotten ender dragon egg!”

“OI-”

Their laughter echoed through the night as they kicked up clouds of dust, clambering up the steep sand dunes to get to the train tracks leading into the heart of the server. The conversation had been stomped out with the last dying tobacco riddled ember, and was largely forgotten about. 

Except for what Martyn had said at the very beginning, when they were sitting in otherwise comfortable, uninterrupted silence. 

“Y’know, one of these days you’re going to drive yourself mad.”

What did he know about madness anyway?

What did Grian know about madness?

When Grian came to, he found that his head was absolutely throbbing. 

His own thoughts were like nails on a chalkboard, making him wince as he struggled to prop himself up onto his knees. He rubbed at his forehead, where a bruise had just begun to form.

He blinked, the whole world a blur. 

He reached around for his glasses, only to remember he had lost them when he first spawned and grumbled under his breath. The rose colored lenses always managed to keep the migraines away, especially when everything around him now was so blindingly violet. 

“Wh-? Where the heck-?”

On all sides he was surrounded by a circle of bookcases. 

He forced himself to look around for an exit, but found that on all sides there was nothing but books, books, and more books. The shelves themselves were nothing but background noise as glimmering golden spines, yellowed pages, and ribbon bookmarks all took up the majority of his sight. Even the floor beneath him, which glowed in the shape of his silhouette, faded away in favor of trying to make out any of the titles. Though with how hard he had hit his head, the script was nothing more than a squiggle. 

As he craned his neck further upwards, it seemed that this room had no end- the bookcases twisted into a spiral, his eyes needing to cross in order to adjust. He could vaguely make out balconies that jutted out from each floor, and thought to himself, who needs this many books, and for that matter, who needed this many floors to store said books? The feng shui was completely off, even if the soul fire torches hung on perfectly polished sconces made for excellent lighting, in his expert opinion. 

In the center of the room, just a few centimeters from where Grian had fallen, there was a towering pillar that cast a shadow over him. Marble, if he had to guess. A lovely shade of purple, gold filled into the few and far between cracks. 

Grian forced himself to crawl closer and reached up to hold onto the top of the pillar. With a grunt he was able to pull himself up onto his feet, albeit very clumsily, nearly toppling the whole thing over. 

“Just got to- to- son of a-!”

The whole thing swayed back and forth, and before he could comprehend what it was he was grabbing, his hands scrambled to keep the crystal ball perched on display from rolling onto the ground. The smooth amethyst was cool to the touch beneath his fingers, so much so that he struggled to pry it off of him when he was able to stand like an adult and not a tottering toddler. 

“There-” He said sharply, placing it back onto its golden perch, where it belonged. “Stupid, useless, gauche piece of-”

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸リ'ℸ ̣  ʖᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ.”

“AH!”

He was glad no one was around to hear him scream like a little girl. He jumped back against the pillar- nearly knocking it over again- and gulped, knowing that tone all too well. It was a tone that said he had been caught somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. Doc used it the most, so Grian was quite familiar with it. 

Even though he didn’t see anyone, he still stammered out an apology. 

“Sorry- just tell me how to get back and I’ll be on my-”

He quickly cut himself off though.

“...Can…could you repeat that?” He nudged his head to the side, as if clearing water out of his ear. “I must have misheard-”

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸リ'ℸ ̣  ʖᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ.”

This time, the voice came from directly behind him.

Grian swiveled around on his heel, and covered his mouth before he could be sick. His palms muffled the gasp he let out, strangled and sudden like a cat caught in a mob farm. He stared with wide, unblinking eyes.

Only when he gulped down the golf ball sized lump in his throat did he dare trust himself to speak. 

“N-Neither should you.” He stammered. His hands curled around the top of the pillar, the crystal ball left completely ignored. 

If he looked down then he would see his own reflection, pale as ghost and already beginning to tremble-

Though if it was a reflection he sought, he need only pay attention to the figure directly across from him. It was hard not to, with it being taller than Grian by two whole wing spans, and its shadow blocking any light that might have allowed him to see anything past the violet visage. 

One thousand eyes were trained directly on him, keeping track of everything, down to the stray hairs that bounced with every uneasy breath. They looked him up and down, half of bloodshot and narrowed pupils refusing to break eye contact. They bobbed up, down, and around the chipped and dimmed halo that spun slowly like a record, giving the slightest bit of illumination to the face. 

With only the upper half untouched by the taut mask in the same hue it was draped in, he could make out tiny imperfections in the porcelain white of its face. Freckles that had faded without any sun to care for them, bags so dark he mistook it at first for makeup, hair grown out to the floor, the ends covered in dust and the rest unkempt like a lion's mane. 

Its clothes must have absorbed all the dust that would have otherwise blanketed the room, as the deep purple of its cloak looked more like a spring lavender. There were patches in the elbows sewn by inexperienced hands, threads poking out and tied into little bows. This Grian found odd, but was he really about to nitpick the darning of a robe of all things? He was more focused on how the robe completely engulfed it from the chin down, the hood hanging awkwardly down its back. 

There were more feathers out of place across its massive wings than an abandoned chicken coop, dirt in between the folds that could only be cleaned with the force of a car wash. The ends were especially dirty, indicating that it rarely used them, instead letting them drag wherever it walked. 

Except for now, of course. 

They were completely unfurled and straightened to a razor sharp point. Grian once again gulped, unable to stop that small, animalistic and primal part of him from cowering. He pulled his eyes away from where its maw would be, and instead, stared down at his shoes. 

“Why are you here?” He asked in a single breath. “How- how are you here? This place is-”

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ╎ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣ ⎓𝙹∷ ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ.” 

So it's gonna play that game, is it?

“And- and how do you suppose that?” He scoffed. 

“╎'ᒲ ||𝙹⚍.” It said simply. “ᔑᒲ i リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ?”

“No.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

He hoped that it could see the venom dripping from between his lips, sticky like a pomegranate. He hoped it stained the pristine floors. He hoped it was grating against its ears, reminding it how wrong it was for existing. 

“Obviously you're not.”

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷリ, !¡∷ᔑ|| ℸ ̣ ᒷꖎꖎ, ∴⍑𝙹 ᔑᒲ i?”

“A version of me that shouldn’t exist.” Grian spat with all the vitriol he was capable of. 

The thing in front of him barely so much as flinched, and stared him down so coolly that, like a child being ignored, he felt the heat rise in his face. 

Before he knew it he was stomping up to this tall, imposing figure. He shoved his finger onto the medallion holding its billowing together, the clink of the jewel echoing through the hollow room. He could not make out the look in its eyes- its far, far too many eyes- but saw his own staring back at him in the hollow reflection. They were brimming with so much anger that it threatened to spill out into tears like rainfall. 

And rightfully so. 

“How dare you!” He shouted. “How dare you wear my face!”

“╎ℸ ̣  ╎ᓭ ᒲ|| ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ ᔑᓭ ∴ᒷꖎꖎ. “

Grian slapped his hands over his ears. 

“╎ ᔑᒲ リ𝙹ℸ ̣  ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᔑ∷⊣⚍ᒷ. リ𝙹∷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍.”

“Go away.” He begged, again, like a child. He squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see- so he wouldn’t be compelled to. He fell down to the floor with his forehead pressed against the pillar, and heaved out another heavy “Please”. 

As if pleading had ever helped him before. As if these things knew what it was he was pleading for. They could never understand how he thought, how he acted- he was nothing but a problem to them every time they tried to tighten their grip on him. 

So why, he asked himself, wanting nothing more than a concrete answer, why did they continue on torturing him like this? 

The creature's shadow completely engulfed him. 

No speck of light would dare attempt to reach him, when the feathers wrapped around his trembling frame like an umbrella, barely tickling the back of his neck. He hadn’t heard it shuffle across the floor, but he could feel it directly behind him. 

It did not speak. 

“You’re all supposed to be gone.” Grian managed through another muffled sob. “You’re all supposed to be GONE!”

He slammed his fist into the floor. It did nothing but bruise his hand. 

The creature cocked its head to the side- not that Grian could see it. He just heard the rustling of hair against scrunched up fabric. 

“∴ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ.” It said. “╎ ᔑᒲ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ∷ᒷᒲᔑ╎リᓭ 𝙹⎓ ╎ℸ ̣  ᔑꖎꖎ.”

His shoulders were pressed against his ears, and his spine jutted out like a shield. The Hermit’s insistence on him eating more had done nothing- but now he was grateful for the bones. He was grateful for the parts of him left that weren't affected by them. He wasn’t sure they ever learned that his bones were hollow to begin with, otherwise he was sure they would’ve filled in the gaps with something so he couldn’t fly away anymore. 

“╎ ᔑᒲ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ∷ᒷᒲᔑ╎リᓭ 𝙹⎓ ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷||𝙹リᒷ.”

“Don’t talk about them like they’re people.”

“╎ ᔑᒲ リ𝙹ℸ ̣  ∷ᒷ⎓ᒷ∷∷╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ ∴⍑ᒷリ ╎ ᓭᔑ|| 'ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷||𝙹リᒷ'.”

This gave him pause. 

“...I’m not a very good liar.” He decided to say, instead of entertaining what it said. “So don’t try it.”

“╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ リ𝙹 ∷ᒷᔑᓭ𝙹リ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ꖎ╎ᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᒲ||ᓭᒷꖎ⎓. ⚍リꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ||𝙹⚍.”

Grian let out a snort and tossed his head back. He caught the briefest glimpse of furrowed brows under those unkempt bangs of its. He hoped that it didn’t smile at him- it made shivers run down his spine just to picture it. 

“Yeah? What am I lying about then?”

“||𝙹⚍ ᔑᓭᓭ⚍ᒲᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ∴𝙹∷ꖎ↸ ∴ᔑᓭ 𝙹リᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᒷ∷ᒷ ⎓ᔑᒲ╎ꖎ╎ᔑ∷ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑. ||𝙹⚍ ᔑᓭᓭ⚍ᒲᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ∴ᔑ∷リ╎リ⊣ᓭ ╎ ᓭᒷリℸ ̣  ∴ᒷ∷ᒷ ⎓ᔑꖎᓭᒷ. ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ╎ᓭ 𝙹リ ||𝙹⚍. ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ╎ᓭ ᔑꖎꖎ 𝙹リ ||𝙹⚍.”

With that Grian leapt back to his feet. 

His eyes burned so bright they threatened to engulf him- while the creature- the thing that he refused to say the name of- stood completely unfazed. 

“YOU’RE the one that messed with MY rift!” He shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. “This- NONE of this has ANYTHING to do with me! I gave it all up! You should too!”

The creature’s features- the visible ones- shifted. 

Was that pity it looked down at Grian with? Regret? Anger? All at once? 

It couldn’t be understanding. What was there for it to understand?

“╎⎓ ╎ ⊣╎⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ⚍!¡, ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷリ ╎ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣ ꖎᒷ⎓ℸ ̣.” It said. “╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ||. ╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ∴ᔑℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑. ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣ᓭ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ᒷ ̇/╎ᓭℸ ̣  ╎リ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ∴𝙹∷ꖎ↸ ᔑリ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ リᒷ ̇/ℸ ̣  ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ||𝙹⚍ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ リ𝙹ℸ ̣  !¡𝙹ᓭᓭ╎ʖꖎ|| ᓵ𝙹ᒲ!¡∷ᒷ⍑ᒷリ↸.”

He scoffed, and folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah?” He asked, acutely aware he sounded like a sullen teenager.

Its gloved hand glided over the crystal ball without so much as a glance. 

The image rippled into a mirage with colors so vivid that the words didn't exist to describe them. Grian assumed that the only reason he could make out the not quite mint's and the almost there blue's without his eyes burning out of his skull was because, well- it was him, wasn’t it? When was the last time he wasn’t exempt from this sort of nonsense?

Once the colors faded away, and the image stopped rippling like a disturbed pond, Grian…

Wasn’t sure what he was looking at. 

In the mirage it looked like a girl.  

A little girl- no older than Michael was. She had big, brown eyes that would put Gem’s doe eyes to shame, and a mass of curls that he knew first hand was probably a nightmare to brush through. She wore a purple polka dot dress that stopped at her knees, the rest of her covered by pure white stockings. A melody from the crystal flute she was playing filled his ears, and at once his wings completely relaxed. 

“Who…who is that?”

“||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹 リ𝙹ℸ ̣  リᒷᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ꖌリ𝙹∴ ||ᒷℸ ̣.”

“Then why show me?”

“||𝙹⚍ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ᓭ𝙹𝙹リ.”

“Did you bring me here just to be cryptic and annoying? I can get that at home just by striking up a conversation with Joe-”

The crystal ball flickered violently. A neon green filled the room. 

“...Hills. Is that-?”

It pulled its hand away from the crystal like it had burnt him. 

“Hey! What the heck was that?!”

It turned to face away from him.

“...↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ∴╎ᓭ⍑ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭᒷᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ ᔑꖎꖎ ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ?” It asked, oddly somber. 

At this Grian narrowed his eyes. 

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ∷ᒷᔑᓭ𝙹リ ∴𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ℸ ̣ ⍑∷ᒷᔑℸ ̣ ᒷリ ||𝙹⚍?” It said. “╎'ᒲ ʖᒷ╎リ⊣ ᓭ╎リᓵᒷ∷ᒷ, ⊣∷╎ᔑリ. ↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ∴╎ᓭ⍑ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭᒷᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ ᔑꖎꖎ ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ ᔑ⎓ℸ ̣ ᒷ∷ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ? ⋮𝙹ᒷ? ℸ ̣ 𝙹ᒲᒲ||? ᓭᓵᔑ∷?...ᒲ⚍ᒲʖ𝙹?”

Grian was so caught off guard that he didn’t even flinch at Mumbo’s name. His feathers ruffled, of course, but once they flattened back down he managed a mousey, “O-Of course I do!”

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷリ ᔑꖎꖎ ╎ ᓵᔑリ ᓭᔑ|| ╎ᓭ ∴ᔑℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑ ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ᓭℸ ̣ ᒷ!¡.” It said. “ʖᒷ∴ᔑ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ꖎᔑリ↸ ᓵ𝙹⍊ᒷ∷ᒷ↸ ╎リ ∷ᒷ↸.”

“The land covered in- oh come on!” He threw his arms up in the air. “Stop being- you don’t have to be cryptic with me, ̇/ᒷꖎᑑ⚍ᔑ!”

It- Xelqua- flinched harshly. 

“I’m you!” Grian exclaimed impassionately. “You’re me! Stop giving me ghost stories and give me the gods damn truth!”

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ℸ ̣ ∷⚍ℸ ̣ ⍑ ╎ᓭ…”

Xelqua did not get to finish its sentence. 

The sounds of boots clacking against the tile made them both freeze up. 

“Hello!?” Grian called at once, immediately starting to run towards the noise. “HELLO!? IS THERE ANYONE ELSE-”

SNAP.

Grian was gone in an instant. 

His final word bounced off the wall, until it landed right in front of the figure approaching Xelqua- whom he refused to turn and face. 

He looked back down at the crystal ball, his brows pinched together. He waved his hand over the cooled surface, and rewatched the little girl twirling like a ballerina, the smallest whisper of a smile playing beneath his mask. The melody made him let out a soft sigh. 

“Who was that just now?”

He sighed to himself and hung his head. 

The image in the ball quickly changed. He watched as Grian landed flat on his face mid-run, back in the dusty old catacombs that Xelqua had plucked him from like a spring chicken. He scared the absolute dickens out of an already teary eyed Pixlriffs, which would’ve gotten him to laugh if-

“Ahem.”

He rolled all of his eyes. 

“リ𝙹 𝙹リᒷ,  ̇/↸.” 

“Eugh. I told you not to call me that.” 

She stepped further into the light, their fiery hair flowing behind them like a train. Wilted flower petals fell from her crown, and the clashing green of her cloak hurt his eyes- at least he told himself that so he had reason not to look at them. 

“ᔑリ↸ ╎ ℸ ̣ 𝙹ꖎ↸ ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ꖎᒷᔑ⍊ᒷ ᒲᒷ ᔑꖎ𝙹リᒷ.”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

He chose not to say anything. 

She sighed behind him. “Are you going to keep watching that bloody thing forever?”

“╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ⎓𝙹∷ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷. リ𝙹ℸ ̣  ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷||𝙹リᒷ ↸𝙹ᒷᓭ.”

Now it was her turn not to speak. 

All they could do was give him a sigh. 

“It was your idea in the first place.” They said. “Remember that before someone else gets hurt, Grian.”

Once upon a time he would have gone along with them. He would have sighed and resigned himself to droop and mope around someplace else. He wouldn’t have gone to this place in the first place if he had any shred of who he had been once upon a time.

“⊣∷╎ᔑリ ╎ᓭ ↸ᒷᔑ↸.” He said, hands curling around the podium. “||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑリ ᔑリ||𝙹リᒷ, ᓵꖎᒷ𝙹.”

There was a beat of silence too long for either of their likings. Honestly, Xelqua had assumed she had left. 

A python-like squeeze to his shoulder told him otherwise. 

“Excuse me for worrying that you’re driving yourself mad. You're lucky I can put up with your crap, or you'd have no one left."

As they turned to make their leave, Xelqua swore they’d heard that exact sentiment echoed before. But he couldn’t place his finger on when. 

It must have been a long, long time ago. 

Chapter Text

A new dawn had arrived, and with it came the little oddities that brought the outside world- the world Ranboo had been forced to ignore for the past several hours- to life. 

The morning sun dappled the tablecloth, turning an aged off-white into the color of freshly smelted gold. The grass that swayed in the front garden was covered in a thin blanket of dew, making it glitter for miles. Even the waves crashing against the shore seemed livelier than the day before. If they strained their ears, maybe they could hear bits of rock tumbling into the sea. 

Outside the birds were chirping their melodious little songs, one in particular squawking louder than the rest- a crow amongst the flock of normal songbirds. It had no reason to caterwaul louder than the rest, except for making Ranboo jump out of their skin at a second CAW. The other birds at least had the option of flying away, leaving the creature to squawk and caw to its heart's content.

It was odd for a crow to be so close to the coast, they thought to themself, the only coherent thought they’ve managed to have after…

After…

They stared down at their cup, the tea inside having long gone cold. 

Their reflection staring back at them was hardly recognizable. 

Beauty marks they had for as long as they could remember now looked splotchy, like discarded makeup across their face. Their eyes crossed and uncrossed, hoping that the world they saw in between might make more sense than the one they were sitting in. Their hair was greasy, in need of a good wash, and although that would normally be a concern, how could they possibly think about taking a shower at a time like this?

What time even was it? 

They should be trying to make their way back to Stratos to get to their kids. Or making their way around the rest of the server in hopes that they’d bump into Tommy, Scar, Grian- someone familiar that wasn’t looking at them like they were about to tell them their dog died. 

Niki- No, not Niki, she had made that abundantly clear- was wiping stray tears from her ashen cheeks with an embroidered handkerchief. She let out a little sniffle, and Ranboo reached out their hand to place above hers without a second thought. 

“Oh…thank ye, lad.” She croaked, and squeezed their hand. 

Once. Twice. Three times. They squeezed back. 

“Of course.” They said, hoping they didn’t sound as pained as they felt. 

She gave them a smile from across the table. It might as well have been from across the ocean, because they couldn’t feel a single shred of warmth. It didn’t quite meet her eyes- her bloodshot, red eyes. She refused to look directly at Ranboo, and instead chose to let her gaze linger on her own teacup.

“Blast.” She scowled. “Perfectly good tea. What a waste.”

“Do you um…do you want me to re-heat it for you?”

“A kind offer,” She sighed. “But nay, I must refuse such kindness. After the burden I hath placed upon ye-”

“It’s no burden at all, really.”

Now her eyes flickered upwards. 

All she had to do was raise her eyebrows. She didn’t say a word. That simple gesture was enough to make them shrink back into their seat and hunch their shoulders. Another sigh from her was the only reason they released that tension. 

“I shall make us more tea.” She said. She slowly pulled her hand away from Ranboo’s, leaving their fingertips coated in frost. “Then ye should have a rest. I kept ye up with the moon, and I fear if ye’re up any longer then it will have been the last moon ye lay eyes upon.”

That got a slight chuckle out of the both of them. 

Always with the theatrics, he- she was. She was. 

That would have to take some getting used to. 

This whole thing would need to take some getting used to. 

Ranboo watched her putter around the kitchen to make two more cups of tea, ones that hopefully wouldn’t go cold. They hoped they could keep their jaw closed long enough to keep something inside, because halfway through their chat they had completely tossed the scone and a half they’d been snacking on. With nothing left inside of them, surely they could handle some toast with jam as a side to their morning tea. 

Normally, back at home, they’d have just woken up. 

They were used to waking up early. With bedhead and morning breath they’d shuffle through their routine until they reached the kitchen. Then it would be time to switch on the coffee pot that had been set out the night before, and wait. Wait for someone else in the barn to wake up, wait for the hell chicken in their yard to stop crowing, wait for them to decide between a bowl of cereal or cold leftovers.  

Tubbo would be by their side as soon as he woke up. He always was. He’d give a little kiss to wake them both up, then go right for the coffee before anything else. He wouldn’t brush his teeth, or comb his hair until he’s had at least a half a cup of coffee. 

That was what Ranboo needed right now. 

They needed him here,  instead of who knows where, as now even the places Ranboo thought they knew were all jumbled up inside their head. A thousand loose puzzle pieces took up what little space they had left, and now, as they tried to walk themself back through their usual morning routine, they could feel a migraine coming on. 

“N-I mean- sorry-”

“‘Tis okay. What ails ye?”

“Do you maybe- if it’s no trouble of course- have any ibuprofen? Tylenol? I know Niki would always-”

“There be a healing pot in the medicine cabinet.” She nudged her head at the only other door, confirming their earlier suspicions that that was a bathroom. “I shall fetch it for ye.”

“Oh no I can-”

Ranboo tried to stand up on their own. 

And instantly fell to their knees with a loud THUD. 

“Ranboo!” She shouted. 

She dropped the plate she had picked up from the drying rack and quickly scrambled to their side. Her arms helplessly floundered, stuck between wanting to wrap around them, and not wanting them to feel anymore suffocated. They already looked pale as death, and were beginning to heave. 

“I’m fine-” They croaked, as if she were going to buy that. “I just- I just need some fresh air? I guess?”

“...If that is what ye wish.” She said, just above a whisper. “At least allow me to help ye up.”

“Y-Yeah- yeah actually, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Of course. And a one, and a two, and a-”

With the slightest tug of their arm, Ranboo was propped up onto their hooves. They awkwardly rocked back and forth, but quickly gained their footing, and gave her a sheepish grin. 

“You’re still pretty strong.” They said without thinking. 

“Oh! Oh, well, I thank ye.” She rubbed the back of her neck. 

She looked away, as if it were something to be bashful about, though Ranboo couldn’t understand why. Niki had always been strong. Why would that change just because-?

Ranboo shook their head. 

They gave Niki another smile and then stepped out the door. 

The warm breeze made them breathe so much easier, even if the nearby sea smelled fouler than it had the night prior. 

Whether it was spring, summer, or fall, Ranboo, in this moment, didn’t quite care. They were just glad to be able to breathe at all. They took a deep breath in, then out, and then repeated it until they slumped down into the rocking chair that sat just beside the door, out of that very same breath. 

They glanced up at the tree branches, hoping to spot the crow they had heard before. All the other birds had fled, either back to their nests, or back to the shore to be with the gulls singing their own songs. But they weren’t sure if that crow had left. 

And what luck, there it was, staring at them with those beady black eyes- black as the blackest night could be. 

“...You’re one of his.” They said. “Aren’t you?”

The crow cocked its head. It blinked. 

Ranboo snorted out a laugh. 

They were too tired to judge themselves for talking to a bird- even if personal experience told them that these birds specifically made for great listeners. They’d even keep whatever secrets they were told, for the low, low price of a shiny button. Or a handful of seeds. Whatever Ranboo typically had on them was enough to make sure they didn’t go snitching to-

“I’m sure you are.” They said. “Whose else would you be?”

CAW.

“Do you have any friends with you?”

They did not get a caw back. 

“...Neither do I.” 

They hung their head and twiddled their thumbs. The crow only ruffled its feathers, which they took as a sign to continue their soliloquy. 

“At least I- I don’t think I do. I know Niki is just inside, and after what she told me- but it's just- I have no idea where the rest of the Hermits are! I have no idea where they are, and I know where I am, but they don’t and- gods what am I going to tell Tubbo?”

They ran a hand through their hair. They gave the slightest tug, and the crow let out an alarmed CAW. 

“Okay!” They exclaimed and quickly pulled their hand away. “Okay- see? No more of that. Got it. It’s okay.”

The bird angrily ruffled its feathers, looking like it was about to take off.

“Wait!”

Ranboo had leapt out of their chair and thrust their arm outwards. 

The crow stared back at them. It watched as their chest heaved up and down, and their arm trembled before being dropped back down to their side. They even let out a wet laugh, one that sounded like the start of a cry of its own. 

“...Please don’t go.” They plead. “Not- not if you’re his. Not if you’re not going to tell him that I’m-”

Caw?

Ranboo swore the thing- the bird- had just asked them a question. 

That’s at least what it sounded like, the thing tilting its head again, and giving a little hop so that it was looming right over their head. It flapped its wings to get comfortable, and then sat back down. 

They let out a sigh of relief, hand over their chest. 

“Sorry-” They sat back down, a creak coming from the wooden chair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

The crow let out a lilting trill. A smile planted itself on their face. 

It felt foreign, just like everything else here. 

Though from what they had been told, they should feel more at home here than anywhere else, for they had walked the same path they had taken by horse a million times over. The sky above them and the ground below them should be more familiar to them than anything in the past year had been on Hermitcraft. 

Their hooves dug into the warm soil. They disturbed blades of grass, and a flurry of gnats that flew away at once, all to feel the dirt beneath and think, I’ve been here before.  

The bird watched them curiously. 

It bobbed its head from side to side, seeming to study Ranboo’s face. Every inhale and exhale, every blink, every time they parted their lips, that was cause to be watched closely. The crow refused to leave its perch, even when the door opened, and the pink haired woman who often called the crows pests poked her head out. 

“Ranboo?” She asked gingerly. 

“Yeah?”

“The tea, it be ready.” She said. 

“Oh, is it?” They blinked. “Thank you, I’ll uh, I’ll be right in.”

“I should hope so. We have- there is much to be discussed.”

“You could say that again."

She cracked a smile and shuffled back inside. 

Ranboo stood up from the chair. 

It rocked back forth just as they had before, and like Niki had stopped them, they grabbed the chair and settled it back down. A cobweb that had grown between the legs swayed like a hammock. Dust from the cushion clung to their toga, which they only now noticed was beginning to dirty. 

“I hope she has some clothes I can borrow.” They mutter as they tugged at the hem. They clicked their tongue, seeing a tear where they must have snagged it on the gate of the stable. 

They tossed a halfhearted glare where Clementine was grazing, but immediately their face softened. 

Seeing that familiar blonde mane all day and every day- they were surprised she hadn’t gone mad with grief yet. After everything they had been told, how could she not be spiraling every waking moment? They supposed that after five thousand years- give or take- she would have learned to live with herself, but Ranboo just couldn’t comprehend how. 

The crow gave a sympathetic warble that made Ranboo look back up. 

“...I know you’re one of his.” They said. 

They reached their hand out. 

The crow, having decided to stop playing around, bobbed closer until the tip of their beak met the tip of their finger. They had to stand on the very tips of their hooves to do so, but they managed to pet the little crow. 

“...Niki said she would write them.” They said. “Both of them. She told me they were still around.”

The crow let out a little purr. 

“Do you think you could tell them?” They asked hesitantly. “Or at least…tell him? Tell him I’m sorry I made him worry so much?”

They paused as hot tears burned the corners of their eyes. 

“You do know who I’m talking about, right?”

They got a blank stare in return. 

“Don’t go to Phil.” Their voice was hushed and urgent. “At least not- not yet. He’s used to stuff like this, I know he is. You know that too. That’s- that’s probably why you’re here, isn’t it? He felt something or knows something or- it’s always something!”

They settled back down before they could lose their balance. The crow chuffed at no longer being pet but did not move from its perch in the tree. It was the perfect sized tree too, growing delicious apples that Ranboo hadn’t noticed in the night. 

“...Can you find Techno first?” They asked. They felt like a child with the way they were fidgeting, and the way their tail ducked between their legs. “Tell him where I am- or- or just tell him I was here. I don’t if they all know all of us are here but-”

The crow understood. 

At least, they hoped it understood. Because it took off so suddenly and without warning. 

A flurry of feathers had flapped in front of their face and then was gone in an instant. They couldn’t see it through the canopy of stars, so it must be flying far, far away- so far they couldn’t comprehend where it would land. There were so many places on the map that they had been shown, and once again, they thought of the puzzle. 

The final picture- the one plastered on the box- was clear as the sky and sun in their head. Now that they were looking at just one piece in front of them, suddenly, it fit into the picture they’d been only guessing from. 

The trees, the earth, the sea- they knew this place well. 

It may have been a land of ice and snow once, but they were kicking themselves for not having seen past what it now was. They breathed in the air, and it felt brand new. The memories of ice, snow, sleet, and yes, even slush flooded them, lapped at them like waves. If they closed their eyes, then everything fell perfectly into place. 

They could see the paths that Tubbo had spent days digging out by hand, until he was covered in blisters. 

They could see the candles kept in jars as makeshift torches lining said path, so that Ranboo could find their way back to the plot of land in the dark, after heading to the Mainland for food. 

They could hear the creaks and groans that came from the barely used water tunnel. They themselves only used it once or twice- they were much more comfortable going over it than through it. Which always made them feel bad, but Tubbo assured them that it was mostly for guests. 

It was all there. 

Even when Ranboo opened their tear filled eyes. 

It was all right there, bathed in the golden glow of the morning. 

“Ranboo?”

“Right, sorry!”

They turned on their heel and opened the door to the smell of freshly brewed lavender tea. 

They smiled ear to ear, and pulled her, without so much as a word, into a tight embrace. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, quick to hug back. 

Ranboo buried their face in her hair. They sniffled and squeezed her tight. They opened their mouth to speak, but only managed a small, muffled sob, that had her cooing in their ear. 

“Shh, shh.” She soothed. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Ye have naught a thing to be sorry for.”

“You- you must have been so alone.”

“I-”

Ranboo pulled away from the hug. 

They stared down at her, and the same way the colorful kingdom of Dawn had turned into the home they had left behind- the home they knew like the back of their hand- Niki too was someone else entirely. 

“Red…I…”

“Shh.”

Red reached up and wiped the tears from their eyes before they could sizzle against their skin and leave anymore scars.

“Shhh. I appreciate it, lad. I do. More than ye know.”

“I-I can’t even imagine-”

“If Mojang hears me prayer than ye will never have to do even a fraction of that.” She said definitively. 

“It’s you…it’s you and I didn’t know until you told me and-”

She took both their hands in hers and squeezed tight enough to crush the sob that began to build up from their throat. She smiled at them, and her own tears blossomed, freely beginning to trickle down to her chin. 

“And now we have time.” Red said. 

Ranboo let out a wet laugh and nodded. 

No amount of swallowing could stop a fresh set of tears. They’d missed the last five thousand years after all.

They didn’t want to waste a single moment of the time they had left here. 

Chapter Text

Tommy had now officially been a guest in the Solidarity house for a week now, and she could tell. 

She examined herself in the bathroom mirror. The flickering candle light caused the bottom of her cleft chin to glow like a buttercup. A dollop of toothpaste was drying on her pinkened cheek. Her hair, normally left to its own devices, was now plaited into twin braids with bright red bobbles holding them together. 

She shook her head back and forth. Anyone who took a cursory glance at her could tell that a full week of living on the ranch had done the normally waifish girl some good. She squished her sides like clay, and found herself smiling wider than she thought possible. When she looked at her arms, sun kissed freckles protruded from her shoulders and elbows. 

Was that really her in there?  

She reached out to run her fingers down her own cheek, the fog clinging to the glass being swiped away. It was even clearer now who was staring back at her, though it still made her own jaw go slack. 

It had to be her. 

Tommy didn’t know who else would want to be- let alone be her reflection. That’d be a pretty boring life, since the most she did with it was pull silly faces until she grew bored. Whether that be in a mirror, a muddy puddle, or a shallow pond. Who was she to resist the urge to stick out her tongue and scrunch up her nose?

Speaking of, she had almost forgotten to do just that. She spit out the glob of minty freshness back into the sink, and then shot her head back up with the most wide and manic grin she could muster. She showed all of her teeth like a monkey and snorted out a laugh when she made eye contact with herself. 

“Look at you.” She muttered to herself. “You look like a proper lady ‘n shit.”

If a knock on the door hadn’t interrupted her, then the words she had just said aloud would’ve hit her at once. It was nothing short of a miracle that a fuse didn’t blow from how much she was glowing. 

“You alright in there hon?” 

Tommy choked on her own spit, forgetting that there was bound to be a line of people outside the door, waiting for her to finish with her shower. She’d only been about twenty clicks, but she knew first hand that twenty clicks could feel like twenty hours when you were waiting for the bathroom. 

She never used to primp and preen like this- that was all Ranboo. And it wasn’t like Doc was an expert in grooming either. He kept his fur neat and his nails trimmed, but he was far too busy of a man to spend all that much on his appearance. He’d rather be buried in the dirt tending to his tomatoes than let himself relax in his massive, horse sized shower. 

If Doc could see her now…

“S-Sorry Mrs. Edith!” She called out. She was starting to get the hang of all of their names. “I’m almost done!”

“Take your time! I can wait!”

“I can’t!” A voice from behind her piped up- one of the little triplets. 

“Yes, you can, Molly.”

“Noooooo!”

Tommy chuckled at the little girl’s whining. She remembered being that small and being that insistent that things be done her way or not at all, as most children did. How Doc and Scar put up with her she would never know. 

She couldn’t remember if she had brought her cane or not, so when she began to feel light headed from standing so long, she gripped the sink with one hand, the other dropping the spare toothbrush back into the sun bleached mug. It had once probably been used for ale or mead, but now it held over a dozen toothbrushes of different shapes, colors, and designs. Her plain red one must have come in a multipack, because there were two more like it in pink and cyan. 

But why was she waffling around in the bathroom, worrying about toothbrushes? She could hear the grumbling out in the hall, and her face burned, so why didn’t she step out the door? 

It wasn’t like she had a problem with lending a hand around the farm. In fact, she was more than excited now that the sun was out and shining to give back to the Solidarity’s. Whether that be helping clean the horse stables or just plucking weeds, she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty for such kind people. 

The truth was she had been finished ages ago, and was just…

The dress that Meredith had lent her was a work of art. Simple, yes, but that’s why Tommy loved it so much. 

A red and white gingham frock with a frilly Peter Pan collar and a matching bandana were presented to her when she woke up that morning. Tubbo must have been up before her, because he was already sitting up in bed, flipping through a book that looked like it would fall apart at the slightest jostling. 

“Mrs. M brought that in for you a few hours ago.” Tubbo had said, his squinted eyes not having left the page. “Thought you might want something nice to wear if we’re going into town with the whole family.”

She shoved her hands into the deep pockets of the dress. She wiggled her bare toes, hoping to find something she could fuss around with, so she didn’t have to be seen in something so pretty and dainty. 

Her cheeks were bright pink, wondering how she would look, stepping into the sunlight, and wearing a dress that was meant for gentle autumn days. 

The nightgown that she had been given was folded neatly in her inventory. It should be washed, she knew that, but she still didn’t want to turn around and then never see the garment again. That red nightdress had meant more than she wanted to say, even to herself. So now that she was wearing a handmade dress that had been passed through generations that her blood had no part in-

A single knock made her head jerk up. 

“Sorry!” She exclaimed. “Finishing up now!”

With how much she had been apologizing, she was starting to sound like Ranboo. The notion of that made her stick out her tongue and made a childish ‘blegh!’ sound. 

Her? Anything like Ranboo? What was the world coming to?

Her hands flew up towards her neck. She adjusted the bandana, making the knot around her nape a little looser. It was the slightest of tugs, but now she could breathe a whole lot easier. The hand that she swore was around her throat went slack, as did the weight pressing down on her shoulders. 

Before she could talk herself out of it, she swiftly wrapped her hand around the brass doorknob, and swung it open. 

“By golly!” Edith exclaimed. “Don’t you look like a marigold in May?”

"Pretty!" Molly exclaimed wearing a dress of her own, though hers was in a bright fuchsia.

Tommy’s already pink face burned the same color as the beloved dress.

“You think?” She asked, oddly bashful. “I-I mean- I think I look pretty decent. It’s the dress that should be getting the compliments, I mean, just look at this stitching! I gotta ask your mum where she got this from, it’s just-”

“It’s the person who wears the dress that makes it what it is.” She said, cutting Tommy off from her ramblings. “You look mighty pleased with yourself, so the dress makes ya look like a million diamonds.”

“Oh!”

Tommy was struck speechless. Her mouth hung agape, before she shook her head again, like a cat with out of place fur.

All of her prior worries seemed to roll of her back. Why had she been worried at all?

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” She puffed out her chest. “You should be a motivational speaker, Mrs. Edith. You’d make a gods damn fortune! Just telling people they look nice- I’m sure there’s a market for that! There’s gotta be a market for people with no self-esteem- unlike me, since I am just brimming with self-esteem, the self esteemer they call me back home- who’d pay top dollar to have you look ‘em over and say, ‘you look…’ what was that thing you just said?”

Edith laughed good naturedly. “Magnolia in May.”

“Yeah! That! You say that to the right person and I reckon you’d be swimming in diamonds!”

“I appreciate the suggestion-” She said, still giggling. “But I’m just fine workin’ at the schoolhouse.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“Mhm! It’s me and three others in town teachin’ the lil ones when the crops ain’t got room to grow. Gives ‘em all somethin’ to do.”

“Wow. I mean- that’s real good of you. I bet those kids learn a lot.”

Before Edith could say anything else on the matter, the girl clutched to her side groaned like she was about to keel over and die. She flopped at her feet like a ragdoll, causing her mother to roll her eyes. 

“Oh alright, alright.” She huffed, and helped her stand up properly. “See ya at breakfast Tommy!”

“You too!”

Tommy turned towards the stairs with a newfound pep in her step. 

For seven whole days she had spent sleeping, eating, and getting to know the warmest people she had the pleasure of meeting. 

Where did she start?

Meredith was a mother, not just to her children and grandchildren, but it seemed the whole town. She was always going from one task to the other like a queen bee, and just like the queen of the hive, no one dared say a bad word about her- and why would they? She was warm like the sun, yet firm, and uncompromising in her ideals. If Tommy ever got to know her mother, she hoped she’d have the same sunny exposition as Meredith Solidarity. 

James was a kind man. That was the first word that popped into her head- kind. He had kind eyes that had seen so much, and gentle hands with rough callouses that had built up and up over the years. When he laughed it was like he was laughing with the whole world, and when he smiled, everyone smiled with him. He was a leader, and looking at him made her want to salute the same way she used to- to a man with eyes that used to be just as kind. 

Every Solidarity from the oldest Edith- who was the reason for her good mood- to the littlest Tiara- who didn’t speak but still gave Tommy half of the cookie they weren’t supposed to be eating before dinner- made her wonder what she had done to deserve these people taking her in as one of their own. Jimmy was already treating her like another sister, even though he hardly knew her. 

And it wasn’t like she could ask for herself. 

Not only would it be awkward for everyone, but there never seemed to be the time. Everyone had to do their part around the house, and although herself and Tubbo were guests, that didn’t mean they weren’t jumping at the gun to help tend with the chores they could. 

It was a bright and sunny day outside. So naturally, they would be tagging along with Jimmy once the afternoon rolled around to head out into town- at least that’s what Meredith had asked of them the night before. They’d hit the general store, the school house, the saloon- a genuine cowboy saloon- and possibly venture outside the town for trading. Jimmy hadn’t looked all too pleased at the idea of that. 

But Tommy was just excited to stretch her legs and breathe in the smell of hard work. She could already hear the trotting from the horses that she’d get to ride, and that was enough for her to decide to slide down the railing instead of walking down the stairs like a normal person. 

She hadn’t got to see much of the town due to the unexpected storm- unexpected to her, the rest of the Solidarity’s seemed to know exactly where it came from- but if they were anything like the family she’d come to know, then it must be the best place she could have possibly landed. Part of her hoped Grian and the rest of the Hermits took their sweet ass time searching for her. If she had to stay an extra week, you wouldn’t hear her complain! And she loved to complain!

It wasn’t just Tommy who thought they had stumbled into a scene out of a fairy tale rather than reality though. Tubbo seemed just as eager to cozy up and learn all he can about Tumble Town. 

From his experience strangers rarely lent such a helping hand, and having somewhere to sleep the night was a luxury. So having both and so much more made him less hesitant to stay cooped up in his shell- and Tommy could see that as soon as she entered the kitchen.

“Mornin’ bee boy.” She said with a yawn. 

“Good morning bed head” He said snarkily, not looking up from the same book he had been reading in the bedroom. He had a cup of coffee to his left, and a fresh, steaming roll lathered in butter and jam to his right. A barely touched plate of eggs covered in cheese sat just out of reach. 

“Good morning, Tommy-Anne.” Jill said politely, her nose also in a book. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby zombie.”

“Good. Ma was worrying about you all morning- you just missed her.”

“Aw, what?” She huffed. 

“Sorry about that. She wanted to see you too, but she heard the chickens making a ruckus and decided to just collect the eggs now instead of later. I hope you like breakfast for dinner.”

“I fucking love breakfast for dinner.”

A smile crept onto her face, and she looked up from her book. 

“Tubbo here said almost the exact same thing.”

Tubbo playfully rolled his eyes. 

Tommy took this opportunity to smack him upside the head. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed, dropping his book. “You asshole, I lost my place!”

Like a viper she swiped the roll away from his plate, unhinged her jaw, and took a MASSIVE bite. She grinned ear to ear, spittle and crumbs flying out of her mouth as she said, “You schnooze you lose!”

“Tommy-Anne, don't talk with your mouth full.”

“HA!”

“Tubbo, don’t be petty. It doesn’t suit you.”

“HA TIMES INFINITY.”

Tubbo rolled his eyes again as Tommy settled down in the seat beside him. She wasted no time reaching for the pitcher of iced tea, a clean mug already waiting for her in the same spot she had sat for dinner. 

“So, whatcha reading?” She asked. “I thought you weren’t much of a reader. Haven’t you got that thing where your b’s look like d’s and l’s look like i’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, my brain’s all fucked.” Tubbo knocked against his own skull. “Reckon it was all that time in the trenches."

Tommy snorted.

Jill looked like she had a question that she didn't want the answer to.

"I’m only on page five, so don’t think I’ll be reading Dostoevsky anytime soon.”

“Bless you.”

If Tubbo rolled his eyes again they were going to get caught behind his skull.

“I lent him one of my field journals.” Jill said, eating her eggs one handed.

“Like the one you let me read about the cute moocows that grow flowers instead of mushrooms?”

“Precisely.” She said. “Although the one I gave Tubbo is about The Great Migration.”

“The Great huh?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m done with the first chapter.” Tubbo squinted down at the page, which was slightly bent thanks to being dropped. “Fascinating stuff, really. Hope this thing has a glossary.” 

“It does.”

“Fantastic.”

Tommy leaned her cheek against her hand. “Any idea when we’ll be heading out?”

“As soon as James gets back from mass.” Jill said. 

“Mass?” She tilted her head. She was asking a lot of questions today and soaking in every answer like a sponge. “Jimmy goes to church?”

“We all do, but he’s much more devout than the rest of us.” She said. “So he goes every morning. The rest of us only attend on Sundays.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile to herself. 

She remembered going to morning and evening mass every single night- back when the Church of Prime didn’t hurt to look at directly, and back when she still believed the god she had poured her soul into was looking out for her. She believed in him so wholeheartedly- she wondered if Jimmy was the same. 

If his god or goddess or whatever truly cared for him when he knelt down in the pew. If when he read the scriptures aloud they could hear his voice, clear like a bell. If they had ever sent him a sign that he was on the right path.

Before Tommy could stop herself, or wonder why she would ask in the first place, she found herself saying, “Do you think I’d be able to pop in and join him, maybe?”

Both Jill and Tubbo’s heads shot up. Just like meerkats. 

She let out a nervous laugh. “Or uh, not. Not going is fine too. I am perfectly fine just sitting here and-”

“Head down the tunnel and then take a right.” Jill said, going back to her book. “It’s the one with the stained glass windows- you would have to be doing it on purpose to miss it.”

“Down the tunnel, take a right, big ass fancy windows- got it!” Tommy leapt out of her seat. “Thanks mate!”

“Shoes.”

“Oh fuck right-”

While Tommy scrambled to find a pair of shoes that would fit, Tubbo stared at her, dumbfounded to the point of speechlessness. 

He watched her closely with his mouth open as she pulled on a cowboy boot with yellow decals that were too small. Then a pair of muddied work boots that were too big. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck, but like a doe sprinting away from a gunshot, she was too full of adrenaline to pay his stare any sort of mind. 

If this Jimmy was anything like the Jimmy she knew and loved- and he was, in so, so many ways- then she was sure he wouldn’t mind her popping in to see what all the fuss was about. He would probably make room for her in his pew, and she’d get to listen to stories she’d never heard before, taken from scriptures and psalms that didn’t leave her squirming under an invisible gaze. 

Though she could still recite her old prayers perfectly, she thought maybe she was ready to make room for new ones. 

Just as she was about to step out into the light, wearing another pair of cowboy boots- ones that had Jimmy’s name scrawled on the bottom- she heard a chair scrape against the hardwood floor from the kitchen. 

“Wait for me, boss woman.” Tubbo had his book under his shoulder, and grabbed the half-eaten roll from the plate. 

Tommy beamed ear to ear. 

She couldn’t explain in words how her heart soared. She just hoped he could see it in her eyes. 

“I’ll race you!”

Chapter Text

“Last one there is a rotten dragon egg!”

Tommy shot off of the patio like a bullet and landed squarely in the sand. She held her arms out at her side with a victorious grin, and began to whoop and holler- going so far as to even do a somersault. It was clumsy and ended with her landing flat on her back, but she still laughed, like she had the whole world dancing to a tune that only she could hear. 

“She’s a loon-” Tubbo shook his head with a soft smile and even softer laugh. “The neighbors are going to think she’s a complete loon.”

“Ain’t nothin’ our neighbors ain’t already accustomed to.” Jill said rather plainly. Despite speaking so much more formally than the rest of the family, she still kept that signature country twang that marked her as a citizen of Tumble Town. She flipped through her book without so much as looking up at Tubbo, even when she said, “Tell James if he ain’t home for dinner tonight then ma’s gonna give him a whoopin’.”

“Will do.” He gave her a small salute. “Whose shoes should I-?”

“Wear the same ones you wore to help fix the roof. They won’t get worn otherwise ‘n ma hates to waste.”

So as much as the still squishy soles of the too big shoes made him want to hork up his iced tea and eggs, he put them on over the pair of darned socks he had been lent from Caleb- an apology for taking the mick out of him when he first met Jimmy. They were covered in a pattern from a cartoon he didn’t recognize, and as he covered them with the mud stained leather, he made a mental note to ask him later about it. 

“Thank you, Jill.” He said, one foot out the door, the other still firmly inside of the ranch house. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Have fun, don’t die.”

He snorted a laugh and closed the door behind him. 

“Oh gods-” He instantly rolled his eyes, seeing Tommy attempt a handstand. “Get out of the dirty, Tommy.”

“I’ve almost got it!” She exclaimed, having not heard what he said. One leg was planted firmly on the ground, while the other hovered halfheartedly as she tried to stretch out her metal calf. “Come on- come on man! Just a little more!”

“Have you completely forgotten you’re in a dress, or are we just making a statement now?”

Phrased more like a statement than a question- because it was- Tommy completely crumpled in on herself like wet tissue paper. Her face blended in perfectly with the rolling red sand dunes just outside of town and oh, oh her face was absolutely priceless. 

He burst into a belly aching laugh, so intense he had to wrap his arms around his sides. He bent over forwards as his laugh echoed off the walls of the bowl and landed right back in front of the two of them.

If the neighbors didn’t think they were loons before, then they certainly did now. How in their right mind made such a racket just as everyone was coming out to do their chores? Cows needed milking and pigs needed feeding for the Saint’s sake!

“Oh fuck off- that’s cheating!” Tommy groaned as she properly sat up and shook the dirt out of her hair. “You cheated!”

“Why would I-” Tubbo took a deep breath to reel himself back in. Which was hard, but despite the smile still straining his cheeks, he managed to stand back up and lean against the porch railing, still damp from the rain. “I’ve got no reason to cheat.”

“What?!” She exclaimed, baffled. "You’re not THREATENED by my-my natural, amazing, fantastic abilities to go faster than you?! Have you completely cracked?”

“Have you?” Tubbo raised a brow. “You’re the one who wants me to cheat. I’d hardly call that normal behavior.”

“Oh, don’t you get all psychological-aful on ME, bitch!”

She leapt to her feet, the skirt of her dress flowing outwards like a blossoming rose. 

She even went so far as to dust the dirt off, shaking the skirt the same way she shook out dirty rugs and blankets before hanging them up with the laundry to air out. He’d seen her do the same motion over and over, too many times to count in her life, and only now did he actually take notice of how she held the end of the hem with just the tips of her fingers. 

Tubbo shouldn’t have been surprised by how natural she looked in such a dress. 

He’d seen her in far fancier getups, for far fancier occasions than a traipse through the town. He’d seen her at balls, at galas, at parties of all shapes and sizes- but this was the first time he could truly say that when she wore a dress that looked well beyond her time, it hung off of her as if waiting for her silhouette. The garment had languished, collecting dust, until it was her time to wear it.

He didn’t say any of that though.

What did he look like, a poet? He had far too much self-respect for that.

“Come on-” He said as he stepped down the well-worn stairs. “We’re burning daylight.”

“‘Mimimimi I’m Tubbo and I think I am SO SMART-’”

“I do. I do think I’m smart.”

“...How dare you. How DARE you not let me mock- YOU COME BACK HERE!”

Like Tommy before him, Tubbo decided this was an ideal time to burst into a sprint towards the tunnel’s gaping maw. His laughter was left in the dust with his footprints, but he knew from experience that she was about to be hot on his trail. 

He looked out of the slightest corners of his eyes, and grinned when he saw Tommy reach out to grab his shoulder. He ducked, but quickly found himself flat in the dirt, with Tommy now leaving him in the dust- giggling maniacally for good measure.

“HEY!” Tubbo propped himself up with a glare. “Foul play!”

Tommy let out an offended gasp. Though the way she grinned ear to ear showed she wasn’t actually that offended. Just enough to put on a show. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Toby!” She put her hand over her chest- something impressive, as she was still jogging in place. “SOME of us just get slower with age, and SOME of us say just as young, and spry, and not LAME as the day they were born!” She cupped her chin under her hands and bathed her eyelashes. “I mean REALLY! How very DARE YOU!”

“How dare ‘I’?!”

“You getting sand in your ears?”

Tubbo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Obviously you cheated. The evidence is-”

“Pschhh. Evidence schm-evidence.”

“I could have you tried, you know!” 

“Tried for what crime?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “If it’s being too much for you to handle then be my guest! I’ll even pose for my mugshot!”

She struck a pose, though Tubbo didn’t notice, as he was too busy standing up and brushing the dirt off of his trousers. There were already enough holes and patches in them, he didn’t need to add any more, which inevitably meant adding more work for Meredith. 

“I could have you tried on counts of tampering with an established event.” He said, hands on his hips. “You can’t just shift in the middle of a race, unless made clear by the guidelines beforehand.”

Oh yeah. 

Conveniently, right before Tubbo had taken the fall, he had seen the cat tail from that morning re-emerge just to wrap around his ankle. He had seen it only briefly, but he sure as hell felt it. 

Tommy, in typical Tommy fashion, wrinkled up her nose as if she had smelled something foul. 

Which was how Tubbo knew the next thing out of her mouth was about to be completely and utterly ridiculous. 

“I’m not shitting anywhere!” She exclaimed indignantly for the whole town to hear. “That’s fucking- that’s gross man! Thought you’d have a LOT more decency than THAT.”

“Oh my fucking gods-”

If he were a man of faith, then this would have been a good time to pray to a higher power for the strength not to throttle his own sister. 

Instead, he was a man of science. So he did the next best thing. 

And broke out into a run, shoving her out of the way in the process. 

“AYE!” She exclaimed from the ground. 

“Catch me if you can!”

“You bet your sorry ass I will- get over here Underscore! I'll make your fucking husband a widow!”

The two sprinted through the tunnel like the kids they were. They ran so fast that the wind swept through their hair and hit them in the face, over and over again. They tumbled over train tracks, and threw bits of sand at each other, all the while laughing and squealing like they hadn’t done in years. 

Tubbo couldn’t tell you the last time he had gotten to play like this. 

When you had kids, your own excitement got put on the back burner in favor of making sure they were excited. Any roughhousing that Tubbo had ever done was instantly forgotten about when Michael scraped his knee or Grumbot tangled up his wires. There was no time to worry whether or not he was having a good time, when all he could think about was if this game of tag would be the one to land his son in the ER. 

But back when he was their age, he didn’t get to play either- at least, not like he was now. Being an only child with a dad who made sure his lab was as far away from civilization as possible meant he had very little in the way of playmates. 

He had his father- who was too old for games like tag and frisbee- and sure, they tossed a ball back and forth on occasion, but when the two of them ‘played’ together, it was in the lab, doing experiments more than anything else. The bubbles and the color changing chemicals and of course the prep work that needed to be done before and after was enough to keep Tubbo occupied until the next time he craved a little more than listening to old records and playing with his stuffies. 

A fat, plush bee was good for sleeping, but not so great when he wanted to be chased. His bee just sat there on his bed. It probably still was. He hoped Squishy still was anyway. 

As a child he didn’t tussle, or hide behind trees, or roll down a hill just for the adrenaline rush until he met Tommy. 

When he met her, something inside of him seemed to click into place. He didn’t have the words for it back then, though, if you asked him now, he would say that meeting her was like walking into somewhere completely foreign, and yet you knew deep down, you were home. That same peculiar feeling would crop up with every noogie, every childish prank, and yes, every time they raced each other around the camarvan. 

In this dark tunnel, lit by far and few between torches, Tubbo could almost imagine himself back in his old body, the one he missed especially at times like these. 

He closed his eyes despite his common sense telling him not to, and ran as fast as his feet could take him. His heart pounded in ears and his feet- his hooves- went THUD against the sand. He couldn’t tell if he was in front of or behind Tommy, as their shared laughter was all around him. 

The faster he ran the louder it seemed to ring in his ears. Her laughter was always like jingle bells to him- as long as he knew she could laugh about something, then everything was alright. His heart didn’t have to beat as hard, and instead was permitted to float alongside him. 

“Tubbo!”

Tubbo just laughed in response. 

“Tubbo, open your eyes!”

“Why should I?!” He exclaimed, carefree as a bird. 

“Because, dumbass, you’re going to-!”

THUD.

Completely unrelated from the fact he had just collided with a lamp post, he was conveniently reminded why closing your eyes during a race was such a bad idea. He stumbled backwards with a goose egg growing out of his forehead and groaned at his own stupidity. 

“Tubbo!” Tommy exclaimed, jogging to his side. 

She was quick to pick him back up by the scruff of his shirt before he could completely eat sand. The world was spinning, and he was seeing not one, not two, but three Tommy’s looking down at him with blue eyes wide with worry. 

Three Tommy’s.

Now that was a thought to keep him up at night. 

“Are you okay!?” She shrilly shrieked. “Speak to me, man! Don’t go into the light! I’ve been in that light, it’s shit!”

“I…I…”

“Yeah? What is it? I’ve got you!”

“I…kicked your ass.”

Tommy unceremoniously dropped him while he chuckled, as if he had said the funniest thing in the world. 

He was laughing, sure, but was she? No, she folded her arms over her chest and glared down at the giggling body rolling back and forth in the dirt, happy as a pig in shit.

“I hate you.” She said, too plain to be serious. “I’m serious.”

Tubbo just continued to laugh at her expense. 

“Next time I’ll just- I’ll fucking leave you there. To be eaten by wolves, or coyotes or- or bobcats! Yeah, I’ll let the bobcats eat your face off! Then we’ll see who's laughing at poor, poor Tommy-Anne!” She threw her arms up in the air as she continued this tirade. “‘Oh, her? No, no, don’t mind her, she’s only the saint who tried to save her best friend’s LIFE and got SHIT CANNED for it. What a poor soul, taken from us too soon- UNLIKE HER BASTARD OF A BEST FRIEND’.”

Now, Tommy seems to have forgotten something. 

This wasn’t a server like Hermitcraft, where it was more likely than not, she could shout as loud as she wanted and not be heard. A few nymphs and some woodland critters would be her only audience. 

But this was an entire town. 

And upon this realization, Tubbo absolutely HOWLED in delight. 

He opened up his eyes, and just as he predicted, people were beginning to stare. 

Small children were ushered away by their parents. Elderly women with tight frowns and round spectacles scoffed and turned away, presumably to shit talk ‘kids these days’. People with hoes, shovels, and axes alike side eyed the pair as they shuffled along to work, or their chores, or-

“Hey, look!” Tommy pointed, completely ignoring Tubbo now attempting to sit up from the uncomfortable dirt. “Over there!”

“Over where?” He grumbled as he rubbed the base of his spine. “Fuck me I’m gonna need a pot-”

“THERE-” She insisted, jabbing her finger into the distance. “Where that old guy just went into! That’s gotta be the church!”

He looked into the direction she was pointing. And his scowl only deepened. 

Tubbo could not see over another building. 

But she didn’t have to know that!

“You sure?”

“Down the tunnel, to the right, fancy ass, stained glass windows- huh, say that five times fast-”

“I’d rather not-”

“I’d say that’s the church!” 

His scowl would be short-lived. 

She hopped on her toes, her hair and flouncy dress bouncing with her. She reached out and grabbed Tubbo by the arm so tight that he thought she was trying to pull it from his socket, like some kind of fucked up Barbie doll. He shuddered at the thought as he trailed just beside her, and squeezed her hand in his. 

Their fingers always fit together. They would always fit together. 

Tubbo reckoned it was a law of the universe or something, like the laws of motion. Saying for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, was just as true as saying for every Tommy out there, there was a Tubbo who fit perfectly by her side. That was just nature. 

She’d walk over hot coals and through the pits of hell for him. He knew this well. He’d be an idiot not to.

And for her, he would willingly walk into a place of worship.

So basically, the same thing. 

Chapter Text

“The Great Rapture may have taken the body of the Saint of Peril, Saint of Crops, Saint of the Savior, but not her spirit of love and light. She lives on within our hearts.” The priestess droned on, her voice reaching each of the dozen people that sat in the pews for morning mass. 

She had spoken these words so many times before that she did not have to look down at her holy book to know what came next. She simply continued to speak, the warm sunlight surrounding her like an angel. For emphasis, she spread her arms wide, her sleeves mimicking the wings of the very same saint she was praising. 

“She lives in every grain of wheat turned to the bread we eat. She sends her sister, the Saint of the Sun, to watch over our cattle and horses when we cannot. She is everywhere, my friends, as she rises with the sun each and every morning. Every drop of light is her blood, and the water we drink her tears as she weeps for the children she had to leave behind to fend for themselves. She did not choose her time to go, so we must live in her stead."

Jimmy looked up from his golden paged tome to smile at the woman he had known since he was knee high. As long as he could remember she was standing up there praising the work of the saints, teaching him it was them who kept everyone in Tumble Town safe. No matter how busy he was with chores, he always made time for morning mass. 

He used to go morning, afternoon, and night, back when he was a youngin’, long before he took on the responsibilities of being the sheriff. He’d watch every ceremony with rapt attention and wide eyes- the most still out of all his siblings. Edith and Xander couldn’t sit still long enough to make it through a single hymn, and Jill just read from the holy book as if it were one from the library, far more interested in the stories than the message. 

Even his parents had gotten so busy that going to church more than once a week in the evenings had become a hassle. No one blamed them for it, but their presence was certainly missed. 

Jimmy took a deep breath in. The smell of freshly polished wood always cleared his head. 

And he breathed out, itching for this verse to be over so that they could get into the songs that would drift all the way into the saloon. 

The priestess held her hands up in the shape of a cup- perfectly holding the sun in her palms. 

“And as we greet the saints up in the heavens when our time is nigh, it is not our words they will have judged us for, but for our-”

Creeeeeeaaaak.

Every head in the church whipped around at once. 

Jimmy’s hand flew to his pistol. As did three others who had been spooked from their devout stupor. 

Only for his eyes to widen seeing who had poked their head in the doorframe.

“Tommy?” He asked, baffled. “Tubbo? What are y’all doin’ here?”

“See, I told you this was the right place!” Tommy whacked Tubbo on the shoulder. "Dumbass!"

“You’ve been wrong before.”

“How DARE-” Her voice hitched, but before she could get any louder, she gulped.

The feeling of over two dozen eyes staring at her like she was a fly in need of swatting made her reach out to grab Tubbo’s sleeve. She squeezed his upper arm, and he placed his hand over hers. 

They were huddled together like cornered rabbits, which made it all the more surprising for Jimmy. 

“Sheriff, you know these two?”

His cheeks flushed bright red. 

Oh boy, how was he going to explain this one?

“His mum sent us.” Tubbo said on the fly. “We’re sorry for the interruption. We can wait outside if-”

“Nonsense, child.” The priestess said. “Any friend of Jimmy’s is a friend of ours.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Of course.” She smiled as the two awkwardly shuffled in. “And besides, we were just wrapping up anyway.”

That was a lie. Jimmy knew they still had five more pages and another hymn to go.

But he still flashed a grateful smile, which she of course, returned. 

He stepped over two paces to his right so that Tubbo and Tommy had plenty of room to scoot in and make themselves comfortable. Luckily every pew was built for four, so there were extra tomes for them to follow along for the remainder of the session. 

Tubbo stood straight like a soldier with his hands folded in front of him. His body didn’t budge, but his eyes certainly did, darting from corner to corner, inspecting every groove in the wood and cobweb growing in the rafters. 

Jimmy got the heebie jeebies thinking it was too much like a machine for his liking. 

Tommy, however, was a natural. 

She plucked a tome from the pocket of the pew and took a moment to admire the sunflower painted on the cover. She ran her fingers across the gilded pages, and only after twirling the yellow ribbon bookmark did she open up the book itself. She stared down at the words at first like they were going to leap off of the page and bite her, but then, she softened, especially when Jimmy had to lean over and flip to the right page for her. 

“Thanks mate.” She whispered under her breath. 

“No problem.”

For the next ten clicks the congregation stood in silence, occasionally parroting back a phrase or verse when the priestess gave them the okay. Jimmy’s voice became one in a chorus, as did Tommy’s, who spoke each word louder than anyone else. 

He supposed that was because morning mass was primarily for the older folks- the ones who woke up with the roosters and drank their tea before anyone else. They had all the time in the world for their faith, but time wasn’t exactly on their side. 

That had to be why Tommy spoke with such a fervor. She couldn’t have known these prayers already. 

“And with that-” The priestess lowered her arms- he always did wonder how she never seemed to get tired from that- and let them rest at her sides. “Another successful mass. Everyone say your thanks before the day begins.”

A hushed murmur of ‘thank you’s’ was heard from every corner of the small building. The words had nowhere else to go, so even though they all whispered, the noise always fell back into their laps. 

“Thank you for comin’ Tommy, Tubbo.” He said.

“No problem, sheriff.” Tubbo said. “Thanks for letting me borrow your bed.”

“Of course, son.”

“Yeah, thanks Jim!” Tommy piped up, far louder than the usual whispers. “And uh, thanks for the food last night. Fucking delicious, man. When we get back those leftovers are mine.”

“Aren’t you full enough from my roll?”

“What can I say, you snooze, you lo- OW. Jim! He hit me!”

Jimmy sighed. 

This was going to be a long morning.

Only when thanks were done did regular conversation drum up. Some sat back in the pews like they were benches. One man even lit a cigar, even though he was given the stink eye from the priestess. 

If Jimmy weren’t so occupied, he would’ve flashed his badge. That usually was enough to get folks to shape up real good. 

“Now what exactly are the two of you rabble rousers doin’ here?” Jimmy raised his eyebrows at them. 

“She made me.” Tubbo jabbed his thumb at Tommy, who gasped in deep offense. 

“I didn’t ‘make you’ do fuck all!”

“Ahem.” 

“Right. Church. Sorry.” Tommy glared at Tubbo beside her. “I didn’t make you do a gods damn thing you dick head.”

Jimmy just sighed again.

“I said ‘hey, church sounds fun! Haven’t been in a while! Might be nice!’ I got my boots on. And then YOU, of your OWN VOLITION, decided to follow me! That’s- that’s what happened! You FOLLOWED ME HERE. Don’t you go lying in a holy house! That’s not on!”

“When have I ever given a fuck about holy anything?”

If Jimmy sighed anymore he was sure his lungs would collapse.

Luckily for him, one of the townsfolk shuffled up to their pew with a smile. He politely smiled back and gave a wave to the woman. 

Though he did kick Tommy quickly in the shins to get her to stop yapping so loud the gods themselves would be able to hear her. 

“Howdy Mrs. McEllen.” He tipped his hat.

“Howdy sheriff! How’re you?”

“Doin’ just dandy. And you?”

“Doin’ just fine, thanks!” She said chipperly. “And who are these two? I thought I knew all your siblings by now?”

Shit. 

He wasn’t one to swear often, but all he could think was, shit. 

His ma always said that the devil who ran The Nether would cut off his tongue in his sleep if he dared tell a fib- especially if he didn’t need to fib in the first place. He stopped believing such superstitions when he turned double digits, but he hoped that both the devil and his ma could forgive him for the little white lie he was about to tell. 

“These here are my uh- my cousins!” He said. “Yeah! This here is Tommy, and this here is Tubbo.”

He ruffled up their hair the same way he did his siblings. He laughed when Tubbo batted his hand away like an angry cat and felt a warmth in his chest when Tommy let him tousle the still damp braid. 

“These are my cousins visitin’ from Nestborough.” He said. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Pa’s cousin’ got some work they gotta do on the barn, so they get the good ol’ Solidarity hospitality!”

“These are James’ kin?”

“Right as rain!”

“Aw, I can tell!” She turned to Tommy. “You’ve got his hair, little missy.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Tommy said, uncharacteristically shy. 

“And I love that dress on you!”

Now she beamed ear to ear.

“Of course you do!” She said boastfully. “Meredith lent it to me! Man, Mere’s the best.”

She put a hand over her heart. 

“Oh, ain’t you just a peach!” She said. “How long have they been in town?”

“A week.” Tubbo said. 

He could answer for himself, thank you very much. 

“Or ya know, she’s been here a week.” He pointed to Tommy. “I just arrived two days ago.”

The woman suddenly gasped and put her hands on her hips. Tubbo froze like a creeper in headlights and let out a breath of relief when she turned her ire to Jimmy. 

“Why sheriff, why didn’t you tell us you had family visiting?” She said in a huff. “We would’ve brought over an extra roast!”

“Oh, there’s no need for that!” Jimmy waved his hands back and forth. “I appreciate it but-”

“I don’t eat meat.” Tommy said rather plainly. 

“Cornbread then!”

“Oh, FUCK YEAH- OW-”

Tubbo made sure to stomp on her foot hard enough that the message stuck. 

Mrs. McEllen didn’t seem at all bothered by this. In fact, she cooed at the two of them ‘play fighting’. 

“Well, if y’all haven’t heard it yet, welcome to Tumble Town you two!” She said cheerily.

“Thank you!” Tommy chirped. 

“Oh- thank you, ma’am. ‘ppreciate it.” Tubbo said. 

He hated being talked down to like he was a child. He was grown man, for fuck’s sake, who probably knew more than all of these yokels combined. 

His face burned. He refused to stare at the overly friendly woman cooing at him and Tommy like she’d never seen people like them before. He was the only one to notice how her eyes would dart to Tommy’s leg, and how she slightly knelt down when talking to her, despite Tommy being the taller of the two. It made his skin crawl, but the rules of polite society said it was rude to interrupt. 

He thought it was far ruder to treat a grown ass woman like a toddler, but hey, what did he know?

He crossed his arms and pretended to be interested in the depictions in the stained glass. 

A woman holding out her arms over a field of gilded crops was the first thing that caught his eye- especially the scythe she had strapped to her back like a hunting rifle. She was dressed just like the busts and statues that had been littered throughout Stratos, and he allowed his mind to wander, wondering if she had anything to do with Joel. 

If she did, then he felt sorry for her.

“What were those hymns you were singing before?” Tommy found herself asking. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard them.”

“You’ve never read ‘The Book of Saints?’ ” Her brows furrowed. 

“I’m not much of a reader-”

Jimmy laughed nervously. “You remember pa’s family- not one’s for religion ‘n all that- 'least not our’s.”

The woman nodded sympathetically. 

“But hey, folks can believe what they want!” He laughed, knowing how Mrs. McEllen could get. 

Lovely woman, unless you questioned her faith. He was surprised she wasn’t a victim of Lore yet considering how often she scoffed as if it were something she scraped off of her shoe.  

“I see.” She sighed. “You poor girl, never hearing the good word of the good Saints Pearl and Sol.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. Even Tubbo’s sulking ceased to stare at her. 

“Pearl?” She repeated, flabbergasted. “Like…Pearl? Like the thing clams birth?”

“That’s not how that works.” Tubbo said, though no one seemed to hear him. 

He was better off looking at the next stained-glass window- and he was surprised by how… violent it was compared to the rest of them. Harsh purples and deep reds like bruises and blood melded together to create a looming, demonic figure standing over the remains of…a palace? A temple? He squinted, trying to make out the shapes, and blocking out the rest of the small talk. 

“The very one!” Mrs. McEllen said cheerily. “I reckon no other saints or gods quite stick up for us here in Tumble Town than they do. I’m so sorry you only caught the tail end of mass, it really is a lovely little ceremony.”

“It’s not like we’re going anywhere." Tubbo muttered. 

“Pardon?”

Damn my Vulcan hearing, he thought with a scowl. 

“Nothing, ma’am.” He said. “I was just saying that our parents-” Ew. That was a weird word for him. “Didn’t say when exactly we’d get back to town. So we’ll be here awhile. Plenty of time to soak in the sights.”

“Yeah!” Tommy exclaimed excitedly. “I saw a saloon on the way here! An actual cowboy saloon! How fucking cool is that?!” She beamed even brighter, like a child on Hearth’s Warming morning. “Wait- holy shit! Tubbo! Tubbo guess what!”

“No need to shout boss woman, I’m right here!”

“Tubbo, we're legal now! We can drink in an ACTUAL COWBOY SALOON!”

“Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“LET’S FUCKING GO!”

“You know what? Yeah! Yeah! Yeah, let’s fucking GO!”

Mrs. McEllen laughed as the two jumped up and down with squeals of joy. Obviously she wasn’t thinking about how if they were like this when sober that they’d be even worse when they were drunk. Because if she was, then she wouldn’t have said, “Say hi to Jennifer for me!”

“Will do!” Tommy said, though she had no idea who Jennifer Roswell was. She just nodded along, and grabbed Tubbo’s hand to pull him towards the wide open double doors. “Come on Tubbo let’s get COWBOY SLOSHED!”

The two began to chant- “Cowboy sloshed! Cowboy sloshed! Cowboy sloshed!”

Jimmy ducked his face into his hat with a groan.

“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, sheriff.” The priestess, who had drifted over to watch the show, said with a giggle of her own.

“I know, I know…”

He let out a sigh and smiled fondly. 

The two of them huddled together and chanting like they were going off to war was a far cry from how they’d arrived- especially Tommy. 

She had been shivering and shaking, backing herself into a corner like an animal that knew it had nowhere left to run. She was barely able to look Jimmy in the eyes, especially after that whole incident with Scar that had left her holding her arm to her chest in her sleep. He had even passed by his room once on his way to the bathroom, and heard the poor scrap crying in her sleep. 

Now he watched her stumble out of the church- Tubbo catching Tommy before she fell flat on her face from her foot catching on the door stop- and his smile only grew. 

There was a warmth in his chest that he assumed he wouldn’t feel until he had a little scrap of his own. 

If only the fib wasn’t a fib. 

If only these two really were his kin. 

“Wait up you two!” He shouted as he began to run after them. He’d have to miss the post-mass pastries he liked to indulge in, as they only sped up like foals at his call. “We’ve got chores to do, damn it!”

Chapter Text

By the time afternoon rolled around, Ranboo had found sleeping to be a fruitless effort. 

None of the usual tricks had worked. 

Counting sheep had just made them confused, as they easily lost track of said sheep. They were sure that up until the 99th sheep they’d been doing okay, but once the 100th sheep jumped over the fence, the rest of the imaginary sleep sheep had seemingly vanished. That might have been the first sign of their brain trying to wind itself down, but if it was, Ranboo completely ignored it and jolted out of the half-asleep fog. 

Deep breaths did nothing either. No matter how many times they breathed in, then out, then in, then out, they always forgot the part where they had to hold their breath. Why would they need to hold their breath anyway? Didn’t they need to breathe?

Finally they just tried shoving the pillow over their head and curling up underneath the quilts. They were surrounded by darkness, though kept getting distracted by the shimmers of daylight that peeked into their blanket prison. 

They stopped bothering to close their eyes at that point, and accepted that their mind was too full and their thoughts too heavy all at once to drift into dreams that wouldn’t be plagued by dancing visages of what they had learned. They simply listened to the noises coming from outside.

The whinnying from Clementine and the way Red shushed her just made them shove the pillow harder against their ears. Her comforting coos that should have put them at ease instead made them all the more aware that they were simply lying in bed when that was the last thing they wanted to do. 

It didn’t matter how exhausted they were. It didn’t matter that their eyes had already started to close without them noticing. And it certainly didn’t matter that even if they tried to go outside and help Red with the chores she undoubtedly needed to do to maintain her cozy little life, she would’ve marched them right back into bed and told them they needed their rest. 

They didn’t remember falling asleep. 

They just remembered waking up. 

It hadn’t occurred to them that they had fallen asleep to begin with. They thought they must have just dozed off- its happened before. They’ve tried to fall asleep, only to check the time on their com, and realize that only a couple of ticks had passed since they laid their head down to rest. 

This time, they didn’t have a com to check. 

They sat up in bed, yawned, stretched their arms above their head, and looked out the window. 

The world was not suddenly darker, but the sun had shifted, now high in the sky, bathing them in a warm, overhead glow. 

A gentle breeze caused the grass and flowers to sway in a gentle, lilting dance, that Ranboo just sat and watched. They pulled their knees to their chest, and watched from the window as a fat bumblebee like the one they had seen just last night bounced from flower to flower. They hummed in place of its buzzing, and even waved goodbye when it flittered away with its fill of pollen. 

The whole cabin felt toasty enough that they pried the quilt off their sweat ridden body, and winced at the small, pea size burns that it left behind. But they could deal with those later. It wasn’t the end of the world if they got a little burnt in their sleep- a few drops of a healing pot ought to make them go away, leaving them good as new. 

“Niki- I mean- Red?” They called out, voice hoarse from sleep. 

They were met with silence. 

“Oh- come on, man.” They muttered. They had hoped to ask what time it was, since they saw no clock to tell for themself. 

They swung their legs over the side of the bed, and let out another yawn, going so far as to unhinge their jaw. 

How long had they been asleep for? 

It had to be almost eight in the morning when they fell asleep, so they must now be well into noon- past lunch time even. Their stomach growled at the thought of lunch, but they tapered it down in favor of standing up and continuing to stretch everything that felt stiff. Arms, legs, neck, even their back. 

“What the heck is this mattress made out of-?” They muttered. 

They pressed their palms into sheets, and found it had no give. It wasn’t bouncy like their mattress was back home, plush like the one in Animalia, or vast and sprawling like the one in Stratos. 

Of course this would be the kind of bed that suited Red’s fancy. 

Function over form aside, the thought did cross their mind that maybe this wasn’t Red’s first choice of mattress. It could very well have been Niki’s, in which case, Ranboo hoped that their silhouettes had met in the night- or, well, the day. 

As they tried to shove the thought of Niki out of their mind- trying to remember the exact color of her eyes, or the exact way she liked her tea in the afternoons- they came to the conclusion that the few uninterrupted hours of sleep they did manage to get wasn’t nearly enough, as when their hair now stuck up in every direction and a crick in their neck wouldn’t go away no matter how many times they rolled their head around. 

Heck, they thought that there was no point in falling asleep at all. 

At least their sleep had been a dreamless one. 

They had no idea how lucky they were for that. 

And another lucky break for them, was that they wouldn’t have to be alone for long.

Just as they found comfort in the silence, and allowed themselves to listen to the rhythmic sound of the distant ocean just outside their window and the flickering of the still lit fireplace, another sound joined the medley- the sound of a rattling doorknob. 

Ranboo froze like a creeper in headlights. 

Helplessly they watched as the doorknob spastically jerked back and forth, up and down, every direction perceivable, though the door gave no sign of budging. 

The aging wood of the door tremored like an earthquake wasn’t far behind- how else were they supposed to respond but fearfully? The ticks passed by at a snail’s pace, and although Ranboo wanted to grab something, anything, to hold up as a weapon, their hooves glued them to the ground. 

The closest they got to self defense was holding their fists up the way they had been taught. If they didn’t have a sword or bow to defend themselves with, then they’d have to settle for hand to hand combat. 

If Phil were here now he’d probably laugh at their poor form. Techno would have to move them in place like a doll, his grip firm enough to show Ranboo where their hooves and hands needed to be without it feeling forced. 

They shook their head, and with it, the memories.

They weren’t going to let anyone in without a fight. 

Besides, there was nothing besides the chairs that would make an adequate weapon, and they had already broken a teacup. They’d feel just awful if Red had to replace anymore of her already sparse belongings. 

The door knob stopped moving. 

They sucked in a sharp breath through their teeth. 

And when the door opened, they couldn’t help but scream. 

They knew it was coming, and yet they still screamed at the top of their lungs and threw an awkward punch that sent them chin first into the ground. They groaned, and actually hoped that whoever had broken in would just get it over with so they wouldn’t have to wallow in their own embarrassment. 

“Dude!” A familiar voice exclaimed. “Holy- Holy shit! It’s actually you!”

“Huh-?”

Before they knew, they were being grabbed by the shoulders and rattled like a snow globe. They could imagine their eyes swirling in circles as the world became too blurry to properly make out who exactly it was shaking them in the first place. 

“It’s you!” 

“It’s uh- yeah it’s- I’m sorry can you- I’m getting dizzy-”

“Oh fuck! Sorry man!”

Ranboo was set back down and had to grab the bedframe from behind them so they wouldn’t stagger and fall- again. The room continued to spin, and as they fought to stay upright, the person who had ‘broken in’ to Red’s cabin began to yap on levels they thought were only ever possible by Tommy. 

“I thought Red had finally gone crazy!” He exclaimed excitedly. “Ya know spending so much time alone I figured- I just thought they were going crazy!”

“Uh huh?”

“Or that we were both going crazy because I saw you just a couple days ago, remember? Yeah, okay, I know you have the memory stuff going on, but that wasn’t that long ago! C’mon, you have to remember, you were with Mayor Lizzie!"

Just as Ranboo thought they were about to hork- because of course they were, they hadn’t eaten in hours, almost a whole day, and they were running on barely any sleep- they caught sight of the person’s shoes. 

Red sneakers that had been through the ringer. 

Dizziness be damned, their eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

They quickly jerked their head up to look at the rest of him, and couldn’t help the gasp they let out. It was even the final straw that made them stumble backwards onto the bed, jaw agape as if they were trying to catch flies. 

“You-” They stammered. “You- are you- how are you…”

They couldn’t believe who was standing right in front of them with his hands on his hips. 

It just felt- well it felt too random to be true. Even back home, his wasn’t a face they had seen all that often, and honestly, they always assumed him to be some kind of hermit- not a Hermit, an actual bonafide hermit who lived in the woods, ate berries, and fought bears, or whatever it was that Techno did on those ‘camping trips’ he used to take. 

Red was one thing. She had laid everything out on the table, and answered every question Ranboo had had- as much as it made their head spin. It wasn’t hard to follow when she explained The Rapture, The Great Migration, how she came to Dawn to begin with. That was all the easy part. 

Even when she told them that Techno and Phil were still out there in the big, wide world, they believed her wholeheartedly. They had already been alive and walking the earth for so long, it would take a lot more than a nuclear winter to send them to Limbo.

But this?

Him?

How else were they to respond, besides to dumbfoundedly ask- 

“Connor?”

Connor beamed ear to ear. 

The last time Ranboo had seen Connor- at least they could remember- was in the prison. 

They had been in the middle, right between him and Jimmy. The sound of bubbling lava still haunted them in their nightmares. The smell of burnt hair and rotten food made their nose crinkle, like it had been seared into their skin, just from curling up in the furthest corner of their obsidian box. 

They were sure the only reason they hadn’t lost all sense of time in those handful of hours locked in Pandora’s Fault was because Connor always had something to say. 

Before Jimmy had been tossed in, he had gone on and on and on about using someone’s old ID to get himself free meals at McPuffy’s and that’s why he was there in the first place, which they had to admit was funny if it were true. They had poked their head up from being buried in their arms once, and the smile on his face was too kind to just be a funny anecdote. 

Then when the warden turned prisoner joined their ranks, Connor thought it pertinent that instead of finding any meaningful way to break out, since none of them knew of their impending rescue, to regale the two of them with extensive lore from a video game that Ranboo had never even played. 

It was fun at first, but after a while, they honestly contemplated just throwing themself into the lava.  

Once Techno broke them from their confines, however, it all became a blur. 

And could you blame them for that? Not only did they have to watch their own mentor’s morals be twisted against him and break the man who had caused the server years of grief out of his imprisonment, but then they had a sword to their throat. 

The only thing they remembered before the stars returned was not being able to breathe. Their chest had heaved desperately for some kind of relief, but it didn’t come until-

Well that’s when things got really blurry. 

They vaguely- vaguely- remembered Connor walking side by side with him and Techno on the way back to the arctic. 

Ranboo had been trembling something awful, even while draped in Techno’s oversized cloak. They had tried to keep a brave face, but tears rolled down their cheeks, making it difficult for them to put one hoof in front of the other. The snow looked like a plush blanket that they just wanted to sink into. 

A ratty, old, blue hoodie had been placed over their shoulders. It was much smaller than the cloak, and when Ranboo looked up, he saw Connor grinning at him with a missing tooth, a black eye, and the ends of his hair singed. 

And somehow he looked worse. 

Standing in Red’s kitchen, it was clear that like her, the years had not been kind to him. 

His smile with the same missing tooth did not quite meet his icy blue eyes. His hair hung in a loose ponytail across his shoulder, barely being held together by a piece of twine. His cheeks were flushed red from the obvious sprint from Animalia all the way to Dawn, and his face was covered in unshaven, unkempt stubble.

The baggy blue hoodie that he was never without was wrapped around his waist, covered in so many patches that it begged the question of if it was still the same hoodie. His white shirt was stained with dirt- probably from some kind of chore- and his pants were shredded at the knees. A bit of belly protruded from the top of his belt, which wasn’t doing a very good job of holding up his pants, but did hold a small shovel looped around on a carabiner that was decorated with many other keychains and bobbles- most, of course, being from Sonic. 

Though he was trying to be genuine when he pulled Ranboo into a hug, they imagined it was hard to be when looking at what should be a ghost. 

“Man, it-” He choked on his words. “You’ve got no idea how good it is to see you, really.”

They chuckled nervously and hugged back. 

That seemed to be the right call, as Connor dipped his face into their shoulder. 

“I-I didn’t know what to think when I saw you.” He admitted in a hushed, hurried whisper. “I was like, ‘Connor, you’re losing it. You’ve gone nearly five thousand years without fucking loosing it, don’t loose it now. It’s not worth it to lose it now, that’d be pretty lame.’”

He let out a wet laugh. He pulled away from the hug, and grinned up at them.

“Look at you, you beautiful bastard.” He laughed. “I uh- Red caught you up to speed, right?”

“Uh-huh.” They bobbed their head up and down. “She uh, she told me everything. Connor I am- I am so sorry. For everything”

“What’re you gonna do, ya know?” He shrugged with heavy shoulders. “It sucks but- but you’re here. And that’s- dude you have no clue how insane it is that you’re actually here. Cyber’s gonna freak the fuck out!”

“...Cyber?”

“Cyberknife. That’s what Techno’s calling himself these days.” Connor said like it was nothing. “He’s all the way out in the boonies- can’t miss him with that big ass temple. And Phil- Watson,- fuck I’m still getting used to that one-  he’s in Cogsmeade! I don’t get to see those two much, it’s mostly Red who lets me bum around. All I gotta do is clean up after myself and help with chores sometimes and she lets me stay here without rent. It’s so weird, I don’t think she sleeps, cuz I sleep in the bed and-”

He then paused and stared at Ranboo’s bewildered face.

“...What’s with that look?” He asked. “I thought Red told you everything?”

“She- she did!” They quickly said. “I guess I’m just still adjusting. This is…it’s a lot.”

Connor laughed again, and pulled up a chair to sit. 

“It’s really fucked, I know.” He said. “How did you even get here?”

“Grian has this thing in his basement- he calls it The Rift. We all thought it was safe but-”

“Oh, that thing?” He huffed. “We’ve been throwing shit into that thing for months now.”

“Really? You weren’t, I dunno, worried?”

Connor suddenly looked at the ground. He refused to look anywhere near their eyes. 

“...I’ve stopped doing that a while ago.” He admitted sheepishly. “Being worried, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Cuz-” Connor let out a pithy laugh and shook his head. “What the fuck do I have to be scared when I’ve made it this long?”

Chapter Text

“You know-” Jimmy grunted as he heaved a bag of rice over his shoulder. “We’d get this done ‘lot quicker if y’all weren’t so focused on the saloon.” 

Tommy rolled her eyes and let out an offended scoff. 

“Ex-cuse ME for wanting to have a little FUN!” She huffed. 

Tommy seemingly hadn’t gotten the memo that there was a time for work and a time for chanting like a mad woman for something she wasn’t even completely sure she wanted. She wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, so the fact she was so excited over a bar with a different coat of paint baffled Tubbo, and herself to an extent. 

Though in her mind, it made perfect sense.

How many people could say they’ve been to a saloon?

She would understand if she was just bumming around and not lifting a finger. She’d be pissed too, if there was work to be done, and she was the only one doing it.

But! She wasn’t worried like the other two. 

She knew that things would continue to get done, because she was an expert multitasker- just ask anyone back on the DreamSMP! 

She might have bounced around like a jumping bean whilst doing so, but hey, she still got shit done! The Tommy Method, Tubbo had taken to calling it. 

He once hypothesized that the more she yapped, the more work got done, and he had yet to be proven wrong. As she could run her mouth, then anything asked of her would get done. From dishes, to scrubbing the bathroom floor, he’d seen her do it all, as long as she had someone to talk to. 

She could both sweep the floor of the rickety, classically red painted barn free of old hay and droppings, as well as rave over how excited she was to go to a genuine cowboy saloon. She could brush a horse’s man, as well as yap on, and on, and on about how much fun she and Tubbo were going to have together- it’d been a while since they had something to do, just the two of them. No kids, no Ranboo, no Hermits. 

Just herself, and Tubbo. 

Of course, they had to finish one last chore before Jimmy could take a break and unleash the two onto the town. They’d stuck beside him like glue since they’d left mass- mostly because they still didn’t know their way around Tumble Town yet. 

It was still taking some getting used to, going from the rolling hills and snow capped valleys of Hermitcraft, to the quaint little town, all cramped together into one bowl. 

The land looked as if it had been sculpted just for them. For the people who loved and cultivated a land that anyone else would turn their nose up at. Red sand was pretty and all, but it wasn’t ideal for raising cattle or growing crops. 

In fact, the woman who had handed over the wheelbarrow filled with rice had said as much herself. She seemed friendly about it, but Tommy could tell from a cursory glance that Jimmy had been struggling not to say anything on the contrary. He just put on his most polite, Southern charm smile, and thanked her for her generosity. 

“I have no idea what you are in-sin-uate-ing, Jimothy.” She pronounced each syllable with a bite, and grinned when he groaned. “I’m serious!” She obviously wasn't, since she was starting to giggle from how red in the face he was becoming. “I haven’t done anything wrong! I’m innocent! I’m being FRAMED! Tell him Tubbo!”

Tubbo, who was carrying two bags of rice over his shoulders, also rolled his eyes. 

“He’s got a point there, boss woman.” He said. “We agreed to help.”

“I AM helping!” 

Tommy wasn’t so much carrying the rice as she was dragging it through the muck. 

They should be lucky she was too filled with excitement about having to haul the rice across the town border and all the way down into the bowl- and they had to go through the tunnel! She could be rightfully bitching her head, especially at the fact they couldn’t just shove the bags into their inventory and walk like normal people. Jimmy had said that food stored in an inventory ‘just didn’t taste right’. 

Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. 

“Who the hell needs THIS much rice anyway?” She continued said bitching. “What, are they throwing a rice party?”

“The Evermoore don’t have ‘nough mouths to feed, but plenty to go ‘round.” Jimmy said as he ducked into the tunnel, thankful for the shade on such a sweltering day. 

The morning might have started fine, but now that afternoon settled in, he was sweating through his shirt. He even lifted the hem of said shirt to wipe off his glistening forehead, and hoped that the store had some fresh milk on ice he could gulp down before something else he needed to fix popped up. 

He swore to every god and saint if that gods damn tractor shit the bed again he was going to- he believed the term Ruby had used was ‘crash out’.

“Not a lotta folks wan’ live out in the swamp, so Shelby makes sure to bring any extra to us and a few others so we can sell ‘em. Takes a load off her shoulders and ours.”

“Well that’s nice of her.” Tubbo said. “And pretty ergonomic too. I reckon rice is probably the only thing you could grow in-” 

“Was that who dropped the bags off?” Tommy asked, cutting him off. 

“Mhm!” Jimmy nodded.

Tommy remembered seeing the woman who had to be only a little older than her, and thinking, ‘holy shit, her hair looks like a jellyfish.’

She hadn’t said that out loud- she had manners after all- but that was the first thing that came to mind about her untamable chestnut hair, that seemed to be adorned with twigs, leaves, and was soaking wet to the point of leaving a puddle beneath her loud, yellow galoshes. That the way her bangs framed her face, while the rest of her hair dangled over her shoulder made her look like a jellyfish, especially with that wide brimmed witch’s hat she wore. 

Her chest had been heaving like she had run all the way there, and her bandaged hands, wrapped firmly around the wheelbarrow’s handles, trembled when she helped Jimmy lob the first sack over his shoulders. He was almost twice her height, so she had to actually get in the wheelbarrow in order to do so. 

“Thank you so much, Jimmy.” She had said, with a heaving breath laced in relief. “You’re my last stop today.”

“Of course!” Jimmy had tipped his hat with his free hand. “Glad to be of help!”

Tubbo had gotten the other two bags with ease, and Tommy, well, had taken the most Tommy route possible. 

“She’s a real peach.” Jimmy continued. “Most folks think her strange, but we’ve all got quirks. Books ‘n covers ‘n all that.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo nodded along in agreement. “Like how Tommy can’t seem to shut the fuck up. That sure is a quirk.”

“ALRIGHT FUCK YOU TOO- PRICK.”

He just flashed her a teasing grin. 

She didn’t have a free hand to swat at him, so he puffed out his chest. It was rare he got off completely scottfree, and if he was lucky, by the time they dropped off the rice, she’d have forgotten his little remark. Her brain was funny like that- he’d love to study it one day. 

You know, when she wasn’t asleep. 

Tubbo might have found their bickering amusing, but Jimmy let out a sharp sigh that the two of them were all too familiar with. 

How many times has that same sigh broken up far pettier arguments that dissolved into way more than a few jabs at each other? When Wilbur, Grian, or even Martyn couldn’t break up a scrap, it was up to Jimmy, the jack of all trades as he used to be called, to grab them by the scruff and set them straight back on task.

“I swear on the devs you two argue more than two barn cats in a barrel.” Jimmy shook his head like a disappointed mother. “Look, the sooner we get these to the general store, the sooner we can all have a pint, alright? Jeez!”

Tommy grinned ear to ear.

“Oh no.” Tubbo groaned!

“Cowboy sloshed!” She pumped her fist in the air. “Cowboy sloshed! COWBOY SLOSHED!”

“Tommy! The rice!”

“Shit- sorry!” She quickly went back to dragging the burlap sack across the ground, leaving track in the dirt beside the rails. 

What exactly was the difference between getting cowboy sloshed and regular sloshed? Was it the addition, or the absence of something that made it cowboy specific? Was it the environment? The biome itself? Or just the authentic feeling off the mud stained floors and warm flickering lights, like something from an old black and white film that she’d pirate off of her com? 

Whatever it was, she was excited to experience it!

After banting around in the nice, cool shade, walking back out into the open felt like sticking her head in an oven. She instantly groaned, and threw her head back.

“Fucking hell- someone turn the sun off.”

“Calm down.” Tubbo said, though he was heaving as well. 

“Y-Yeah.” Jimmy said. “Look, just a few more steps.”

“But I can’t GO anymore steps!”

“You can’t? Really?”

“REALLY! Jimmy, how can you be so cruel, man!? My feet are gonna fall off! I’ve already lost one, what’ll I tell Doc if I lose the other?! He’ll flip hit shit, that’s what he’ll do! Listen to me Jim, you do NOT want to be on Doc’s shit list because he gets fucking SCARY. He will literally- literally- murder you if I lose another foot to the SUN of all things and you won’t hear me crying at your funeral over-”

“We’re here.”

“THANK THE FUCKING DEVS.”

Tommy practically kicked the store’s door down, paying no mind to the massive 'CLOSED' sign hanging from the doorknob. She needed AC and she needed it now.

The smell of sweltering old wood hit her at once. 

If the thought of an honest to goodness saloon made her excited, then the sight of the town’s oldest building, the general store, made her absolutely ecstatic. 

She left the rice at the open door to take a gander for herself. 

“SHIT-” Tubbo hissed as he stubbed his toe.

Tommy didn’t care, as she was in a world of her own. 

The melody of an old record echoed through the cramped aisles that she had to squeeze through, her hips jostling cans of beans and boxes of oats. She gasped in awe at the wall to wall shelves filled with jarred goods of all kinds, from peaches to pickles to plums to peppers. She squealed in delight over barrels- one filled to the brim with peanuts, and the other full of fish soaking in their own juices.

“You’d think she’s never seen a store before.” Jimmy chuckled. He placed the bags onto the unmanned countertop and let his shoulders slump. “Pearl above that’s gon’ hurt in the mornin’.” 

Tubbo set his and Tommy’s bags down and did much the same. “What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette right now.”

“Thought you were quittin’.”

“I am. Which is why I’m not gonna ask whoever owns this place if they sell them.”

“They don’t, just tobacco an' the papers.”

“Well good thing I’m not gonna do all that shit just for a single cigarette.”

Jimmy threw his head back in a deep belly laugh.

“TUBBO!” Tommy exclaimed from the furthest corner of the store, where cobwebs were the size of curtains and dust was caked across the wooden beams. “COME CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!”

“Taking a breather, boss woman.”

“But they’ve got GUNS!”

“WHAT.” Tubbo’s head shot up. 

Jimmy’s did the same. 

Only while Tubbo grinned giddily, Jimmy turned pale as a ghost. He swore that his heart dropped into his shoes.

He instantly scrambled to stand up and scrambled with flailing limbs to get across the store. He had to grab onto one of the shelves to stop himself from landing flat on his face. 

“Don’t you DARE grab one of those, little missy!” He exclaimed. “Saint knows you’ll shoot your eye out!”

He was too late for that. 

She was already holding, and admiring, the hefty hunting rifle in her arms. Her eyes were filled with stars as she ran a hand over the fine polished wood of butt, and moved up to briefly brush a finger against the trigger. She held it up as best she could, and looked through the peep hole- she never knew the word for that thing- at a conveniently placed and thoroughly defaced wanted poster on the back wall. 

“We used to have one just like this!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Ours were a lot longer and had that pointy bit at the end, but eh, close enough! Tubbo, you grab one too!”

Tubbo didn’t have to be told twice. He heaved one over his shoulder, and admired how well it balanced. 

Jimmy grabbed at his heart over his chest. “Oh my gosh- you two are going to kill me, you know that?” He groaned. “You’re goin’ to kill poor ol’ Jim.”

“Aw, lighten up sheriff." A voice from behind Jimmy said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

“Oh no. Please no.”

Jimmy groaned and tilted his head back. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a familiar flash of scarlet hair- just like the no good bandit’s name sake. He didn’t want to look any further, because no doubt, they’d be waiting for him to face them with a wide, obnoxious grin.

“Oh, not you.”  

He must not have noticed them when he first walked in. How could he, with Tommy and now Tubbo scaring the willies out of him, waving those rifles around like they were toys? He had been shouting so loud he must not have heard the bell connected to the door jingle.

He ran a hand down his face with a throaty groan. 

With all the courage he could muster up, he turned on his heel, and sighed.

“Good afternoon, Scarlett.”

The lackadaisical bandit grinned ear to ear, showing off their fangs. 

“Howdy there, cottontail.” They said, licking their bottom lip like he was a juicy rabbit hopping up to a wolf’s den. “Haven’t seen you all week.”

“Lucky me.” He said dryly.

Tubbo lowered his gun for just a moment, and when he did, his eyes widened. 

He tried to discreetly kick Tommy in the shins- just to get her attention- but because this was Tommy, she yelped like a dog. 

“OW!” She exclaimed. “Hey! What the fuck was that for!?”

Tubbo nudged his head towards the two bickering. He didn’t want to interrupt the sexual tension that was thick enough to be sliced clean through with a knife. He just watched as Jimmy steadily went redder and redder, the red haired bandit leaning against a shelf with their hip cocked. 

Tommy looked over her shoulder very briefly, only to scream and jump out of her skin. 

“HOLY SHIT- IS THAT ROZ-”

In her excitement, her finger squeezed the trigger. 

In an instant the four of them threw themselves to the ground. 

Tubbo had grabbed Tommy by the wrist and they both fell flat, while Jimmy practically tackled Roz and shielded them as the stray bullet ricocheted first across the floor, then hit a shelf, and then flew clean through the poster from before, taking the eye out from the faded picture of a bandit long forgotten. 

There was silence for one beat, two beats, three rapidly racing heart beats.

“Damn, sheriff.” Roz broke the silence, caged under his arms with an even wider grin than before. “Take me to dinner first.”

He leapt off of them faster than a frog stuck in a hailstorm.

“YOU-!” 

Jimmy had never been so red. His face was the same shade as the mud he had tracked in, having not bothered to wipe his feet on the welcome mat. He struggled to form words, sputtering and stuttering, until he finally landed on three that while juvenile, made him less hot and bothered under the collar over a no good, two bit, pain in his ass bandit. 

“TOMMY, YOU’RE GROUNDED.”

“I’M FUCKING WHAT-”

Chapter Text

As always, Wilbur couldn’t just have one quiet day to himself. 

It was barely five in the morning.  

Wilbur’s eyes still burned with the urge to crawl back onto the couch, pull the blanket over his head, and drift all the way back to dreamland. He ignored this, of course, in favor of another cup of coffee- his third one in the past several hours he’d been awake.  His heart beat like a war drum and yet he stayed perfectly still. His limbs weighed heavy like steel, and it took all of his effort to raise the mug to his lips in the first place. He hadn’t bothered to add cream or sugar to this latest batch. He simply drank it black, as the effort needed to shuffle towards the fridge, open it up, get out the milk- it all just felt like too much for someone hunched over the kitchen island like a zombie. 

Obviously, he wasn’t going to sleep. How could he? 

It was only a few hours until they’d be pulling out of the spot where they had been parked for over a year now, if he was doing the math correctly. 

For a year now he and Renbob had been living comfortably out here in the desert. They had their routine, staking their claim to the land like the grooves in the sand the tires left behind.

First it was just him planning to set up shop in Pixandria, him and Clem the friendly dog who wouldn’t leave his side no matter how many times he had tried to shoo her away. Then he met Renbob along the way, and his pity party of one turned into a party of two- a comfortable duo to live a comfortable life. Yeah, that’s how he’d describe his life. 

Comfortable. 

July had changed everything. 

Now- well now they had Llulah to factor into all of this. Things couldn’t just be comfortable anymore. 

His sweet little girl, who was just a thin scrap swaying in the wind of Skyblock, was now the brightest beacon on all of Empires, brighter than any suns, than any gods. She turned mere comfort into a daily adventure that brought with it daily challenges, and Wilbur couldn’t be happier. She’d taken to her new life like a duck to water. She dressed for the warm weather like it was second nature and played her flute with the songbirds that perched on the olive trees outside their home on wheels. She deserved more and more every passing day, which Wilbur and Renbob desperately tried to provide. 

They were a little mismatched, but they were a family. 

So, wherever they went, she would follow. 

“I think-” xB had said the other night after a lengthy half an hour of eating in almost near silence, save for chewing, swallowing, and gulping.

He couldn't take only listening to the tick-tock of the wall clock and the breeze outside any longer. The words stumbled out of his mouth clumsily, but he couldn't take them back if he wanted to. He was being stared at from every angle of their 'dinner table'. It was just the coffee table with everything cleared off the surface besides the knitted tablecloth, so everyone had space to eat while sitting in a circle like a regular group of hippies. Ren and xB shared a couch. Renbob and Wilbur shared a couch. Llulah sat on the floor, and Clem set her head on her lap, waiting for a scrap of baked zucchini to land in her awaiting mouth. 

“I think I have a way to get us all onto Hermitcraft.” 

“What?!” Ren jumped to his feet, and his plate of food was sent careening onto the carpet. His tail thrashed behind him.

He ignored the groan from Renbob , and didn’t even topple when Clem lunged at him. Llulah had joined in the cacophony of chaos with a squeal of her own, as she tried to wrangle Cleem by the collar, but to no avail. Oh, she had the saddest little puppy dog eyes, but no one was paying attention to them. All eyes were either on Ren standing over everyone, or xB, who had barely even flinched. 

This must have been a regular occurrence for him, Wilbur had thought at the time. The noise, the mess, and the screaming all seemed much more his speed.

“xB, baby, you can’t be serious.” Ren gasped like a guardian out of water. 

“I’m not.” He said bluntly between bites. “I’m completely pulling this outta my a- my hiney.”

Renbob gave a nod of approval. Normally he’d have scolded Clem for sticking her nose where she shouldn’t, but this one was completely on his brother. He could overlook her gluttony just for tonight- but she better not have expected any extra kibble, no ma’am!

“I’m pulling this completely out my hiney. It might not even work. So, if anyone wants to talk me out of it-”

“My friend-” Wilbur had said, and set his fork down to give the fellow his full, undivided attention. He leaned over in his seat. “We don’t even know what your plan IS, much less how to talk you out of it.”

“Oh, right.” He scratched his chin sheepishly. “My bad.”

“That said, if it’s something completely fucking stupid, you have my word I’ll call a spade a spade.”

He flashed a toothy grin at him. “Heh, thanks.”

Renbob groaned and leaned backwards into the couch.

"Llulah, can you do your poor uncle a favor?”

She had perked her head up. Her hands were covered in grease, carpet fibers clinging to her sticky fingers, which now also clung to the dog’s fur. Both of them would be in need of a bath- but later. No one wanted to wrestle a wriggling dog built like a worm, or a thrashing six-year-old who thought not bathing was the height of luxury.

“Don’t you go repeatin’ a dang thing these jokers say.”

She bobbed her head up and down. 

“Good pup. Go get yourself some cake.”

Llulah clapped her hands, and with an excited squeal, skipped into the kitchen to cut herself a piece of cake. 

It had been raining for so long that at some point they had all gotten bored, came together, and made a cake from scratch with what they had in the fridge and the cupboards. Zalika had lent them the eggs, but the rest they already had. There was no frosting, but Llulah was just happy to have a big slice of vanilla cake with a glass of milk, all to herself. 

“What?!” Wilbur scoffed. “Why don’t I get cake?”

“Because we got important adult stuff to talk 'bout.” Renbob pointed to xB. 

“Oh…right. Carry on.” He tried not to look too disappointed.

“You can have cake later.”

“Pssh, whatever, mum.”

“Ahem-” xB cleared his throat. “Can I- Can I talk now?”

Ren flopped back down onto the couch beside him. “Why the heck not?” He ran a hand down his face. 

He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The other twirled around a string of his hoodie. His plate of food was left forgotten on the table to go cold, right beside an awkward pile of magazines. The model on the front cover was who he made eye contact with instead of anyone else. 

“Basically, we all want to go to Hermitcraft, yeah?” He said, though he did not wait for a yes, no, or in-between. Instead, he continued with, “But only Ren and I are Whitelisted. We’ve been for a while now, so our code- and I might be being stupid here because Hypno only explained this to me once and I wasn’t really paying attention- but I think he said our code is stronger? Because we’ve been on HC since like, I wanna sayyyyyyyyy- Season 2 for me?”

“I was Season 4.” Ren said. 

“Right. So, your code, or whatever it was, isn’t as strong as mine. Mine isn’t as strong as Xisuma’s or Joe’s. Pretty sure it’s a power scaling issue, and usually those don’t get patched up for a while.”

“Okay?” Renbob nodded along. “Go on, man.”

He had sighed, like this next part was painful to describe.

“Since our code IS that strong separately, what if…you know…we-?” 

And then he mashed his hands together. As if there was a ball of clay he was molding, but had to pause to ponder its shape. He looked around for something, but only found wide eyes staring back at him. 

“...I’m sorry-” Wilbur shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand."

“Right, right, of course.” He groaned. “When’s Doc when you need him?”

“You don’t need Doccy words-” Ren put his hand on xB’s arm. “Little words are fine. I can’t keep up half the time Doccy pulls out the big word-age, what makes ya think I can here?”

He snorted out a laugh. “Okay, I get the point.”

Llulah hadn’t come back with not just one slice of cake, but two. She set hers down right next to her half full glass of milk, and instead of sitting down on her cushion, she thrust the purple paper plate towards xB’s chest. 

“Oh- this is- is this for me?”

“Mhm!”

“Wow, thanks kid.” He grinned. 

She signed a quick ‘no problem!’ and then sat down with a massive smile on her face. Like Wilbur, Ren, and Renbob, now she was staring at him raptly, awaiting his next words. 

And what unexpected next words they were.

“I'm thinking that with both me and Ren we can- our code combined should be enough to bypass the Whitelist- well, okay, not bypass. Trick it is more like.” He said. “We can trick the stupid firewalls into thinking it’s JUST me and Ren. We can all go, but it’ll only sense the two of us.”

Renbob’s eyes widened underneath his glasses. “xB, man, are you serious?” He asked. 

“Yeah! Yeah, sorta. Mostly because of you, but-”

“Me?”

“Dude, YOU’RE Whitelisted too.” He looked Renbob dead in the eye, and balanced his arm on his knee. “YOU have been Whitelisted since Season 6. Xisuma does that for visiting family. You’d be like- okay you don’t know what TCG is yet, but you’re our booster card. Your code, plus Ren’s code, plus my code, equals-”

“Holy shit.” Wilbur whispered under his breath with a thousand-yard stare. “Holy fucking shit.”

This time, Renbob was too busy with his mouth agape to scold him for his language. He too was staring at xB like he had grown an extra tail, or a new set of horns behind his old ones. 

However you wanted to put it, every eye was on xB and the ludicrous plan he had cooked. 

Ludicrous, yes.

But it was the only plan they had. 

It was decided via vote- the way everything should be decided. Anyone who wanted to venture with xB and Ren past the safety of Empires and onto the unknown wilderness of Hermitcraft was to raise their hand. Anyone opposed was to keep their hands down. 

Every hand in the room went up. 

The next day they had all been busy bees doing what needed to be done. 

The tank was filled with gas- that had been Ren’s job the day before. He volunteered to trudge out to the closest gas station to fill up two red plastic gallons. They were just sitting in a random chest shoved into the corner of Llulah’s room. None of them had ever been happier for Renbob’s collecting habits that some- not them, but some definitely- would call hoarding. 

The pantries had been stocked up with plenty they could eat without needing to use the stove or the oven, Renbob had made sure of that. He went to at least three different stalls, and told the neighbors they’d be gone for a bit- family emergency- so if they could watch the yard that’d be great.

Wilbur didn’t just sit idly by while all this was happening. In a last-ditch effort- a hail Mojang of sorts- he attempted what he had been too terrified to do all year. All it took was the fear that he’d never see them again, and that was enough to remind him of the devs’ gift to humanity. 

The invention of the communicator.

He had been cursing those same gods and devs not even ten clicks later.

“You have reached Grian’s voicemail box! He’s not here! Leave a message, or don’t. I don’t actually check this thing that much- Scar! Scar, how do I stop recording?! Oh, wait never mind I-”

“HELLO THERE! THIS IS TOMMY’S VOICEMAIL! Doc said I had to change it to be ‘less obnoxious’ or whatever the fuck- HOW’S THIS FOR OBNOXIOUS DOC? HUH? BEEP BEEP BITCH.”

“Hello, you have reached Tubbo Underscore- Beloved. I am not here. Do not leave a message unless someone is dead, dying, my husband, or you are one of my children. Tommy you have lost voicemail privileges. If you can’t find your shit, come talk to me like an actual person. Beep.”

“Hi! Uh, hey! This is Ranboo Underscore- Beloved, maybe soon to be just Underscore, I don’t know, we haven't had that conversation yet! Ha ha.  But um, if you’re hearing this just, ya know, feel free to leave a message! I’ll get to it when I remember! You know me!”

“Hey there! This is ImpulseSV! Sorry I can't make it right now! Leave a message at the tone! Have a good day!”

Five calls. 

Five calls all sent straight to voicemail was enough to make him give up the endeavor entirely. He had had half a mind to chuck the damn hunk of junk into the ocean but thought that might be insensitive to their houseguest. He made do with kicking the fridge instead, and cursing the fact that THAT had been all he had managed to get done that day.

No one expected xB to chip in, because this was all his idea to begin with, but he took the liberty of watching the kid. He took her not only to the playground, but to the coastline where they collected four pockets worth of seashells. Clem had also brought a stick home, which she was currently slobbering over in the comfort of her doggie bed. 

All of them had pulled their weight in one way or another to make this trip possible. The drive ahead seemed grueling, but with the four of them passing the torch every few hours, then they should make it there in three days' time. Three days from sunrise to sundown. 

So how in the fresh hell did everyone else seem to have enough energy to pull the van to The Lost Empire by hand instead of the drive they had ahead of them? 

For some gods forsaken reason, everyone but the littlest of the group was wide awake. 

The suns hadn’t even peaked over the horizon yet, and there was already talk of what they would make for breakfast. 

Not bacon, since Renbob gagged at the thought. Not eggs, xB found them too slimy. Not protein shakes, because if Ren had to choke down one more, he was going to, in his words, ‘hork a hairball the size of Rivendell onto someone's shoes’. When asked if he would also be the one to clean it up, he just stared blankly at his brother, and asked, ‘what do you think?’

‘I think,’ Wilbur had wanted to say. ‘I can feel a migraine coming on’.

Wilbur used to be the only one to bask in the dull illumination of the kitchenette’s light switch, but as evident by the dull murmur of chatter on the couch behind him, those days were long gone. 

He sighed to himself and took another sip of coffee.

The coffee pot had already needed to be refilled once and was currently halfway done with its second batch. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew that a van the size of a postage stamp with five people and a poorly socialized dog- thank you for that one, Technoblade- would start to feel cramped eventually. It was already cramped before they were harboring two Hermits in their living room. 

Now it just felt like he was always stepping on someone’s tail. 

“Man, can ya put those away?” Renbob said, his voice husky with the last remnants of a poor sleep. 

“What?” xB rubbed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Renbob gestured to all of xB rather vaguely in a huff. 

“...Dude, I don’t speak charades.”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” He groaned. “You’re in a sheer robe!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were in a van full of prudes.” xB scoffed. “Since when are you the fun police?”

“Since I got a six-year-old girl who likes playin’ dress up!”

“She’s not gonna be up for hours, I can change later.” He rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee filled with not sugar, but salt. 

Renbob took in a deep steady breath- seemingly to keep himself from flipping out completely over something so minute. His legs were already crossed, but now he placed his hands on his knees, prepared to take deep, steady breaths, so he could continue to be the bigger dog here. 

“Besides, I look frickin’ sexy. Not my fault you’re jealous I pulled the hottest guy on Hermitcraft.”

The grip on his knees tightened. 

“Ren?” He croaked in a pleading voice. “Help a brother out here.”

“What do you want me to do?” Ren didn’t even bother looking up from his magazine. “I’ve got packing to do.”

“Packing!? What in the fresh hell are you ‘packing’, man!”

“Uh, my stuff?”

“You didn’t bring any stuff!” Renbob exclaimed.

Wilbur leaned his head down into the crook of his elbow. "Guys. Please. She's still asleep."

“I accumulated stuff.” Ren said in his own defense, having not heard Wilbur's plea. 

“We’re not even leaving the van! You don’t HAVE to pack your stuff!”

“What about when we get there?! I gotta put my freaking stuff somewhere! GEEZ!”

xB raised a brow. “How much stuff could you have ‘accumulated’? You’ve been here like, a week, and it looks like you haven't even left the couch.”

Ren just stared blankly at him.

“...What now?”

“Dude, I know you’re an only child but you just- you give off such insane younger sibling vibes that I wanna punch you in the face.”

He held his hands up in defense. “No wonder Jono never comes around. I’d hate to get punched in the face just because you’re both in a mood.”

“I am NOT in a mood!” Both Ren and Renbob snapped at once, doing absolutely nothing to disprove his point. 

‘We’d better get to Hermitcraft soon’, Wilbur allowed his eyes to flutter closed and the noise to become just that- noise that lulled him back to sleep right there at the kitchen island . ‘Before we end up covered in war paint with a pig head on a stick.’

Chapter Text

Wilbur held the steering wheel on nine and three with an iron tight grip, fingers digging into the crocheted cozy. His eyes that were already beginning to burn didn’t leave the road once, laser focused on the miles of trees up ahead. 

Unlike the vast expanse of sand that was laid forward for them to smoothly drive through Pixandria, Mythland was posing much more of a challenge than they thought. 

Every bump from the backroad made him suck in a sharp breath, and he worried his nails would tear Renbob’s decoration. Even hours later after they had broached the border of Pixandria and there was no longer any sand to get stuck in the tires, he still went as slowly as he could. 

It had been some time since he had driven for more than a handful of hours, especially with other people in the van trying to occupy themselves.

Though he was at least grateful for the fact this group of passengers was far less rowdy than his last. 

He’d take the two Hermits, Renbob, Llulah, and the dog over Tommy screaming bloody murder, Tubbo changing the radio station in the middle of every song, and Fundy wailing to be fed or changed when Wilbur didn’t have the time to do either. At least he knew no one would start throwing things when he wasn’t looking. 

He had taken over for Renbob because as they entered the dull green of Mythland surrounded by rolling fog, his hackles had begun to raise. Wilbur hated seeing the poor guy’s nerves shot half to hell, so he volunteered, thinking, ‘how hard could it be?’

Everything in the van jostled as his foot barely brushed against the gas pedal. 

The knick knacks lined up on shelves swayed back and forth and threatened to tip over at every bump. The beaded curtains that separated the driver’s seat from the rest of the van swayed like leaves on a tree, the continuous click-clack only blocked out by the radio, which thankfully had one of Renbob’s many cassette tapes inside of it, blasting classics that made his shoulders hunch a little less than they had when Ren was in charge of the music. Wilbur loved musicals, but The Phantom of The Opera wasn’t ideal traveling music. 

“Wil-” Ren said from where he sat beside him in the passenger’s seat, his feet kicked up onto the dashboard. “If ya go any slower, I think the sheep are gonna start passing us, dude.”

Despite there being no one else as far as the eye could see, he refused to go any higher than twenty miles an hour.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. 

He didn’t say anything, but his lips pursed in a thin line must have given something away. 

“Hey, I was just joking-” His brows furrowed as he slightly sat up from where he was slouched. “You know that, right?”

“Huh?” He blinked. 

“Are you okay? Ya look-”

“Don’t say tired.” He groaned. “Please for the love of cod don’t say tired, I beg of you.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“...Ya look exhausted.”

“Gods damn it-” He groaned again.

Ren held his hands up in defense with the slightest chuckle. “Hey, I’m not judgin’! We all look like crap! Just take a look at xB!”

“HEY.”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to laugh. 

He allowed himself the briefest glance over his shoulder so he could see how Renbob, Llulah, and their guest were faring. 

Though the van was going at a snail’s pace, it was still enough to jostle everything that was on the coffee table. Most of the little things that had been there for the past year- the candy dish, precarious stack of magazines, and a vase that never had any flowers in it- were all moved to a chest, making room for a jigsaw puzzle to be spread out and put together by Llulah sitting on a cushion and xB on the couch. 

She sat criss-cross applesauce with her tongue slightly poking out of the side of her mouth. Her pigtails tangled in front of her face like a curtain as she stared down the bundle of pieces she had in front of her. The table dug into her tummy the further forward she leaned. 

xB, who didn’t want to admit he was becoming baffled by a puzzle meant for children, squinted at the cover of the box. A tiger crouching behind tall grass stared back at him, but when he looked back at the pieces-

“Hey, kid-” He said. “Do these pieces look a little too blue to you?”

She tilted her head to the side. 

He dug around the pile of pieces that he had yet to put together, and his pierced brows furrowed even more. “Yeah, this all looks too…oceany.”

I think this might be a different puzzle.

“What?”

She let out a little giggle and rocked back down onto the cushion. Tío has lots of puzzles. They might’ve gotten all mixed up. She said. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty-”

xB outstretched his leg, and poked Renbob in the shin with his foot. 

Renbob, who was half asleep with his arms folded over his stomach, let out a groan. He had driven almost four and a half hours to the border- he was sure he deserved a little nap. 

“Huh?” His eyes opened halfway. “Bwuh?”

Sorry Tío! Llulah turned to fully face him. 

“No no-” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s all groovy, pup. Somethin’ wrong?”

The tiger puzzle got mixed up with another puzzle.  

“‘s just figure out what this one’s ‘sposed to be.” His words slurred and ended with a yawn.

Okay!

“Aw, what?” xB groaned. “I’ve been tryna figure this out longer than your sorry ass has been asleep!”

Llulah decided to throw a puzzle piece at him. 

“HEY.”

Don’t be mean to my Tío!

“I’m not- Renbob! Your child is bullying me!”

Am not!

“Are too!”  

Renbob didn’t answer either of them. 

His eyes fluttered open and closed like a broken doll’s. The only movement he made was to sink further into the cushions, and let out one final yawn before he settled back down for his nap. He had been driving for hours on end, if he wanted to nap, no one wanted to be the asshole who woke him up. 

Llulah swiped her piece back from underneath the table where it had landed. 

With her newfound vigor, was now so focused on finding the right pieces for the puzzle, that she had completely forgotten about the inevitable loop that all kids found themselves in when the road seemed to go on forever and ever. 

The dreaded ‘are we there yet’ loop. 

The first ‘Are we there yet?’ was only twenty clicks after leaving the lot. It had been when she was still waking up, so she asked while sitting in between Wilbur’s legs, her hair being brushed and sprayed with a watermelon scented detangler- a borrowed gift from xB’s enderchest. 

“No, not quite yet, sweetheart.” He had answered as he clipped a stray strand of hair out of sight with a purple pow. “It’s going to take a while to get there, alright?”

Okay, I guess. 

The next ‘are we there yet?’ was an hour after that.

“Sorry pup, just a bit further.” Renbob had called when he was the one in the front seat. “Or, ya know, a lot further.”

How much further? She had asked. 

This time she had been lying on the ground with her legs propped up against the wall. She looked at everyone upside down, and though her face had begun to tingle, she hadn’t moved from where Clem had decided to nap curled awkwardly around her torso like a fur boa. She had quickly gotten bored of sitting in the front with Renbob, and was now watching, to her chagrin, her papa getting his butt kicked by xB in a ruthless game of poker. 

It had been a good thing they didn’t play for keeps. 

“A lot.” xB said nonchalantly as he laid down his cards. “Royal flush.”

“Son of a bitch-” Wilbur scowled. “I guess I fold.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.” xB gave Wilbur a toothy grin. “I’m kinda just lucky.”

“Lucky my arse- best seven out of eight.”

Llulah had been forced to watch a seventh grueling round of poker. Even Clem had gotten bored, since she had trotted back into Llulah's room for a nap in her favorite spot- under the bed.

When the eighth had rolled around, that was when she decided to toddle to her room for her crayons and a coloring book. It was all about exotic animals, just like the puzzle she had chosen from her uncle’s stash and had finished coloring her favorite animal- turtles- her favorite color -purple. Of course, she knew turtles weren’t actually purple, but that was just how bored she was!

And that was the final ‘are we there yet?’.

“Not even close.” xB hadn’t even looked up from his hand. 

He studied the cards in front of him, and held them so close that no one else could possibly see what he had been dealt. He was the only one on the couch, so no one knew who it was he was hiding his cards from, but he did it as if it were second nature. Someone must peer over his shoulder often- at least that’s what Llulah thought as he kept them close to his chest. 

She had puffed her cheeks out in a chipmunk-like pout.

Really?

“No but we will be if you ask again.”

But we’ve been driving for ages!

“Kid, how far away do you think the server portal is?” 

She just gave him a shrug. 

She had then thought better of it, because she held up two fingers.

“Two hours?” He snorted. 

“xB, man, no need to harsh her buzz!” Renbob had come to her defense from the front- since Wilbur had paused the game- and insisted he wasn’t quitting as he did so- to go take a leak. “She’s just curious!”

“She’s asked the same question, like, five times.” He mindlessly had begun to shuffle his cards. He only had seven, so it was flimsy, but he still did it with ease. And at the time, Llulah was reminded of her Tío Quackity- maybe they knew each other!

“She’s six and has the object permanence of a turtle, cut her some slack.” Ren had chimed in, having been in the passenger’s seat the entire ride. He yawned and lounged over the headrest like a cat. 

Llulah’s head had popped up at just the mention of turtles. 

Her eyes had sparkled, and her ears gave the slightest of twitches, which made both Ren and Renbob coo at her adorable little face. Wilbur would have done so too, but he had business to take care of. 

In the end it was Renbob who suggested maybe she find a puzzle to do- he had so many after all! 

Not only was it something to pass the time with besides music and conversation, but it would hopefully keep her occupied long enough that by the time they had to pull over and stop for the night somewhere in Mythland, that she wouldn’t think to ask again. 

Wilbur turned back to the windshield. 

He had hoped to make it out of Mythland by now, but it looked like they would be spending the night underneath the watchful gaze of the woodland critters that, for some reason, hadn’t made a peep. He hadn’t heard a single bird chirp or cicada buzz, but that was probably because it was the middle of winter. 

That was what he told himself. 

Ever since the sand became soil, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.  Something he couldn't write off as homesickness or anxiety of being on the open road again. It curled in his stomach like a stone and refused to budge. No matter how far he let his mind wander, it always returned to wonder why the woods were so lonely, dark, and deep. 

He had tried to push it out of his mind as best as he could, since now he was the one in the driver’s seat. 

It hadn’t been half the problem it was when he was just a passenger, but now that he looked out at the ever-expansive forest that didn’t have an end in sight, the hair on his arms stood straight up, and his palms became slick with sweat. He was thankful for the cozy in that regard, otherwise he’d be wiping his hands on his pajamas every couple of ticks. 

If he stared too long, then the branches that simply swung with the breeze began to rattle against one another. The roots contorted into a jumbled ball, forming shadows that briefly danced in the corner of his eye. And he swore- he swore on his own grave- that the faintest hint of red was poking out from the otherwise evergreen leaves of towering spruce that refused to allow a single speck of sunlight through its canopy. 

The dismal cloudy gray just made him sigh, wishing instead that he was the one helping his daughter with the puzzle instead of staring straight ahead, trying to make anything out through the fog. He’d done many a puzzle in his time and-

He only had time to let out a strangled gasp and throw his arm out in front of Ren’s chest before he quickly jerked the steering wheel to the side, nearly swerving into a tree by a hair. 

There was a shriek from Llulah, and xB tucked his head underneath his cupped hands, which Wilbur was sure was for an earthquake not a car crash, but that wasn’t why his jaw was on the floor, his eyes the size of the same tires that rolled rapidly in the mud. 

Someone, Renbob managed to still be asleep through it all. The only noise he let out was a snort, before he went right back to snoring like a chainsaw. 

“Devs Wil!” Ren grabbed his heart over his chest. He was flat against his seat, letting out a wheeze at the wind being suddenly knocked out of him. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He shook his head free- as if it had taken the burden of fog away from the forest, and was now settling into every crevice it could. 

“What the heck happened?!”

“I-I don’t-”

Wilbur didn’t have the words to tell Ren what he saw.

The van had come to a complete halt. 

His foot dared not leave the brake, just as his gaze did not dare leave the tree that had almost gone clear through the windshield. His trembling hands stayed put, although they itched with years of instinct to reach for a weapon of some kind- any kind. All he had in the cupholder was a thermos filled with a vanilla protein shake, and that wouldn’t be much help against…

Against…

The scarlet red vines that he had seen wrapped around a tree’s trunk like wires of a computer had been pulsing. They had beat and beat and beat like a heart, one that was struggling to stay beating at all. A strange puss had oozed from its roots and had seeped into the soil, turning browns and greens into the color of dried blood. And worst of all, the bark that should’ve run up and down the tree’s trunk was replaced with what he could only describe as thousands of little red slits, eye-like slits, trained right on him. Right on face, where his mouth was agape in a silent scream. 

“I-I thought I saw a deer.” He said with a gulp. 

Ren blinked. “A…deer?”

“Y-Yes. Quite the large one, in fact!”

“Well…at least the van’s in one piece.” He let out a pithy laugh. “I’m definitely gonna need a new pair of pants though.”

Wilbur wanted to laugh with him, but he quickly un-did his seatbelt so that he could twist himself around and peek behind him. 

One or two of the aforementioned knick-knacks had been knocked over onto their sides, but other than that, he couldn’t see any cause for concern. Especially when his eyes landed on Llulah, and found nothing that would send him into a panic. 

No bumps, no bruises, and most importantly, no blood. 

“E-Everyone alright back there?” He croaked. 

“Didn’t even feel it!” xB called with a grunt. He was still doubled over and had moved his hands from his neck to his stomach, his arms wrapped around his middle in a half-hug. 

Wilbur hoped he wasn’t about to be sick- they had a while to go before they could steam the carpets. 

“Petal?” He asked warily. “What about you?”

I’m okay! She had the biggest grin on her face. That was fun! Do it again!

“NO.” xB said, making his message loud and clear. 

He breathed a sigh of relief, and then allowed himself to laugh. 

“You’re killing me, dear.” He said, finding himself grinning as he did so. “You’re killing your father.”

“Wil?” Ren rubbed the side of his head where it had gone thump against the leather. 

Wilbur turned his attention to his friend, who although looked a bit dazed, seemed otherwise fine. He gave him a quick once over that confirmed he looked fine but didn’t yet let himself feel as relieved as he did when Llulah answered him. 

“Are you okay, Ren?” He asked. 

“Yeah, of course I am, but um”- He sighed. “I’m thinkin’ that maybe that’s a sign that we need a bit of a pit stop.”

“Are- are you sure?” Wilbur couldn’t stop himself from gulping down the bundle of nerves that threatened to choke him. “Here? I-I can at least get us out of this for-”

“You’re freaking exhausted, dude.” He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “And I gotta stretch my legs. I’m getting mad cramps over here like you wouldn’t believe!”

“But-”

“Just till sundown. Then I’ll take over.”

“I-”

“Please? Just for a bit?”

Wilbur bit back a groan. 

Ren was staring at him with eyes so deep and blue as the ocean that peeked over his favorite pair of sunglasses. They had been knocked out of place, meaning that he got to watch in real time as his pupils blew wide, timed perfectly with the wagging of his tail. Wilbur knew if he tried to push back that he would take it a step further, and stick out his lower lip, going so far as to let out a pathetic whimper and whine. 

And he just couldn’t say no to that face. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur leaned out over the step as the little girl in the bright purple coat darted between his legs, out into the frosty forest, spruce giants surrounding them on all sides. Everywhere he looked was just more trees pressed against one another like a can of sardines, the only reprieve being the occasional berry bush. 

“Llulah!” He exclaimed. “Wait- your mittens!”

Llulah could care less if she was wearing mittens. It had already been a hassle for Renbob to get her properly dressed while she was buzzing with pent up adrenaline. They were all lucky she had co-operated in putting on her winter coat and proper pants, because when she was told she’d get to go outside after being in the van for so long- like, since yesterday- she was ready to bolt out the door in her tye-dye jammies and polka-dot socks. 

When the van had stopped, so did any notion that they could go the whole trip without a single stop in between. They had enough gas that stopping for it wouldn’t be an issue, and there was plenty of food in the cupboards and fridge, so they had all secretly hoped that it’d be smooth sailing from one kingdom to another. No time for sight-seeing, because this whole trip was a long shot to begin with!

They were only half a day into their journey, having left at six in the morning, and now that Wilbur had the time to spare to glance at a clock, he saw that it was nearing four in the afternoon. 

They’d all been up since the ass crack of dawn, but that was why they agreed to swap to begin with. Renbob went first and Wilbur was just finishing up his turn. After that it’d be Ren who sat in the driver’s feet and controlled the radio, and in the final stretch, xB would be the one to lead them to the same server portal that he had stumbled out of. After all, he and Ren were the only two amongst them who knew where it was to begin with. 

The Hermitcraft server portal wasn’t just something they kept out in the open- not since everyone had made the return the first time around. It’d taken Xisuma ages to do so, but with the help of fWhip, it was buried deep in the jungle, far away from prying eyes, bandits, and the elements. 

Their only guide was a crudely drawn map by xB on the back of a paper. 

It’d be enough trouble to find the damn thing in the first place, so to waste any time that they didn’t have seemed absurd. 

But, in Renbob’s words, ‘when fate drops such an obvious hint on your door, man, ya just gotta ride it out. It won’t kill us to sit with Mother Nature for a bit!’  

No one wanted to be the one to argue with him- especially when he looked the most relieved at the news. An hour or so to stretch his legs and breathe in the fresh air was just what he needed after such a lengthy drive took him away from the desert he’d grown to love. 

And he wasn’t the only one. 

The ground crunched underneath Llulah’s feet as she hopped from the second-to-last step and into the dirt with perfect poise. She let out an exaggerated sigh of relief that she most definitely picked up from her father, and a white puff of breath traveled up into the air. 

She gasped at the sight, and then again at how far she had actually jumped- almost two whole blocks! 

It wasn’t a big leap, not like the ones she did at the playground, but it was enough for her to let out a squeal of delight and looked around to see if any woodland creature took notice. She knew that her papa saw her, but were there any bluebirds in their nests, or hares poking out of their burrows? What about deer grazing on the grass that was left? She turned her head from side to side. 

Her smile dropped when she was just met with just…trees. 

Many, many of the same trees, with the same branches, the same thin, pointy leaves, and the same bark, damp with melted snow. The tree that the van had nearly hit was the only one that looked like it differed, and that was because the headlights were so bright it made the trunk turn from brown to glittering gold. 

She found herself staring only to shake her head.

She couldn’t make out the usual pitter-patter of paws or hooves, nor the flap of wings above her head like she could from outside her window. A shiver ran up her spine and into her scalp, making her shiver from her own personal draft.

But! There was no reason to worry! The warmth flooded her as easily as it had left.

She reasoned that they were just having a very long nap. That’s why there was no creature around, when in a forest like this, she should be surrounded by furry and feathered friends that would love to hear a song on her flute.  

They must be hibernating, just like Mx. Roz explained! They were all in their houses, tucked in bed, wearing sweaters, and sipping on cocoa onto the snow melted and everything became warm again. 

Llulah couldn’t blame them for that, since her nose was beginning to turn red as a cherry, but she still found herself puffing out her cheeks in a harrumph!

‘The animal houses have to be around here somewhere!’ She thought to herself.

The vision of a cuddly pile of shivering squirrels made her eyes widen to the size of saucers. 

‘They can’t hibernate out here! It’s too cold!’

Without another thought and a newfound vigor, she took off straight ahead like a bullet. 

“Llulah!” Wilbur’s shrill voice called from behind her. “Did you hear me?”

She skidded to a complete halt, heels digging into the dirt. 

Her head whipped around so fast that her raggedy red beanie- she didn’t want to get any of the nicer ones dirty- jostled. Her hands flew up to adjust to it, leaving her distracted as her papa exclaimed-

“Stay where I can see you!” He exclaimed. “Don’t go wandering too far, we’ll be back on the road in no time!”

She used her free hand to give him a thumbs up. 

“And keep your coat on! It’s freezing out here!” 

For emphasis, he pulled his cardigan closer across his chest. It had been fine in the van, but now he was really tasting the slow droll of December- the air tasted like frigid mint and tingled on his tongue. 

Okay! Can I go play now?

“Oh…alright, fine.”

YAY THANK YOU PAPA, BE BACK IN A BIT.

“But-!”

Stay where I can see you, I know papa!

She turned back around and sprinted for a particularly tall tree. 

All of them dwarfed her in size, but this one seemed to brush right up against the clouds, the nettles rustling in the whispering wind. She looked up where the sky should be, and instead found the needles of every tree outstretched like spindly, intertwining fingers. No bright blue could possibly poke through nature’s canopy, but she didn’t mind the sea of green instead. 

In fact, she was in such awe of the sight, that she wasn’t watching her own two feet, clad in rubber welly boots. 

“LLULAH!” Wilbur squawked when she fell face first in the dirt.

She propped herself up onto her elbows all on her own before he had the chance to take a single step forward, let alone dash across the grass as fast as his heart was racing. Her chin and palms were covered in dirt, but she sat up like nothing happened, her smile having survived the tumble. 

“Are you alright?!” 

“Mhm!”

“Are you- are you sure?” He tried not to croak. “No blood?”

“Nu-uh!”

“Bruises?”

She shook her head. 

“O-Okay.” He gulped. “Alright. Just- just be careful!” He squeezed his hand over his chest, the same way its pulse grew tighter than a pair of old skinny jeans.

Okay!

She popped right back up like a jack in the box and took off again.  

“And don’t eat any of those berries!”

He could shout all he wanted, but Llulah, who hadn’t had the chance to run around all day, pretended not to hear him over the wind rushing in her ears.

She stopped right in front of the tree- her tree- and started to circle it the way she’s seen Clem circle her bed, having to crane her neck up in order to see the first row in a spiral of branches. 

Her eyes burned the harder she squinted, but she had to, as that was the only way she thought she could see the tippy-top of the tree. She rubbed her chin in thought as she stared down the branches.

And then she giggled. 

‘I look just like Tío!’

She looked over her shoulder to call for her tío, but she didn’t see him outside. The door to the van was left half open, the yellow glow of the lights pouring onto the forest floor, and the soft melody of oldies and country giving her something else to listen to besides wind and her own thoughts, especially the ones about the branches in her reach. 

They didn’t look at all brittle, which Llulah found surprising as she stood on her tiptoes to grasp at one. 

If Wilbur saw what she was doing, then it was certain he would have a heart attack. 

He often said how worrying about her and her ‘cute, squishable face’ was going to ‘put his ass in the ER’, but Renbob and Roz both assured her he was just being silly. Her papa liked to be silly, especially when it got a rise out of Roz and made their face turn all sorts of red! The kind of red she only saw in cartoons and picture books.

No one could actually turn that red in real life. 

Right?

Wood dug into her already numb fingers as they rattled together with the force of a small flurry, going clack-clack , but refusing to break. The nettles, unlike leaves, didn’t fall off their branches from a breeze alone, not even when a stronger gust nearly sent her toppling onto her backside. If she were a leaf, she would have been long gone by now!

She heaved herself up with all her might and let out a little gasp as her upper body draped across the first branch like she was a towel hung out to dry. She kicked her legs back and forth, and instead of celebrating her victory, she just outstretched her hand again. 

The next branch was just as sturdy.

As was the next. 

And the next. 

And the next one after that.

"Oomph!” She huffed. 

She kicked her legs back and forth until one was higher than the other and took the chance to hook it around the branch she was already grasping onto for dear life. She strained her ears for the inevitable panicked shouts, and even if she had heard a single one, she wouldn’t have stopped.

Because with a heave and a ho she managed to straddle it and look down at what she had left below.

All of the grown ups whose shadows she normally stood in were now the size of dolls dotting the landscape. 

Ren and Renbob stood shoulder to shoulder in old, faded band t-shirts from the same festival. Ren’s was a size too big and hung off his frame, while Renbob’s was a size too small, and clung to his taut belly that hung over his belt. Both of them had furrowed brows and their tails thrashed, kicking up clouds of dust behind them.

xB sat on the lowest stoop of the van, wearing the same clothes that he had on the day before, except with a damp towel around his neck, bunny slippers, and a white stick hanging out of his mouth. She didn’t know what it was, just that smell from it was awful and made her cough into her fist. It looked like a lollipop though.

A lollipop? 

Llulah didn’t know they had lollipops!

She didn’t have the time to pout, because her eyes darted to her papa, who was pacing back and forth in front of the van with his communicator pressed to his ear. His socks were now caked in dirt, and his wings dragged behind him like a little kid with a security blanket draped over his shoulders. She half expected him to start sucking his thumb, like a black and white comic character from a book on her shelf. 

Out of all of them, he looked like he needed a hug the most. 

She scooted as carefully as she could away from the trunk and further towards the van, but just as she was about to wave Wilbur over so he could join her in the trees- that’s what would cheer her up- she found herself more invested in what was making tío Renbob glare at tío Ren, especially when their voices began to rise so loud that even the sleeping bunnies and birds could hear the pair of them.

“-If we go this way then we’ll get there almost half a day earlier.” Ren said as he shoved a finger towards the screen of his communicator- the bright LED blue reflecting back in his sunglasses. He might have been taller than Renbob by a hair, but he still squared his shoulders to make himself bigger. 

Of course that didn’t do anything, because Renbob just rolled his eyes. 

“Half a day? Through the jungle?” He scoffed. “ No way, man! We oughta stick to the main roads.”

“But that’ll take even longer!” Ren exclaimed. 

“Well maybe if we had a map-”

“We do! Right here!”

Renbob shoved the communicator that was shoved in his face away.

“An actual map.” He said. “Plain ol’ pen and paper.”

“This is freaking ridiculous-”

“I’ve been drivin’ a hell of a lot longer than you, and I’m tellin’ you, there’s a time an’ a place for back roads!”

“Like when?”

“Like when you’ve got a MAP of them, ya dumbass!”

Ren shoved his communicator in his pocket as he huffed like a child. 

“Listen, I think I know how to read a map, paper or not. It ain’t MY FAULT you’re bein’ a cranky old freaking GEEZER-”

“Geezer?! ” Renbob gasped. “Wil, are ya hearin’ this load of baloney!?”

“Wil, tell this idiot I know how to read!”

Wilbur didn’t look up from his own communicator. His frown had only deepened, and though his eyes were hidden by the glare from his screen, Llulah didn’t need to see his eyes to notice the stray tear running down his cheek.

“...Wil?” 

“Huh?” He croaked.

His head bobbed up and he blinked, remembering where exactly he was, because he was somewhere else completely. He shook the fluff stuffed into the hollow parts of his brain, and let out an airy laugh that he had to expel from his throat.

“Y-Yes!” He said without knowing the question. “I agree with all of you!”

‘ Poor papa…’

Llulah had spent enough time in the tree. 

Whatever was causing Wilbur to frown like that, she knew that it would only get worse if he saw her so high up in the air, high enough that she only now noticed she was struggling to breathe. 

Her grasp on the branch tightened and she slowly crawled backwards. 

She scooted inch by inch, just as she had to get to the end of the branch in the first place, but since she didn’t have eyes on the back of her head like Roz did, her back went THUD against the trunk, making her entire skeleton rattle inside of her skin. Her grip loosened and her hands flew up in a panic.

She let out a strangled gasp as she felt something come undone from her ear.  

Llulah could do little but watch as one of her earring aids- an old pair that Renbob had traded for so he could fix up to be good as new, complete with a sparkly purple paint job- tumbled downwards towards the earth. 

Her eyes didn’t leave it once.

And in an instant, they filled with white hot tears when it snapped in half on a rock. 

‘No…’ 

She shook her head. Her hand flew to the other side of her head, to keep the remaining one in place .

‘Tío made those just for me…What if he gets mad?'

She let out a hiccup, and with a quivering lip, tears dripped down her cheeks. She barely made a sound as her face turned redder with every sniffle, as she was too afraid to move either of her hands and risk falling, just like her poor hearing aid that sat in pieces on the forest floor. 

With one ear covered and the other filled with nothing but muffled air and crackles from a gust of wind that sent her hair flying every which way, the only sound she could make out with clarity was her own heart threatening to shimmy out of her chest from her throat. 

She certainly couldn’t hear how Wilbur had gone from shrill ramblings about people she’d never met, to shouting her name as loud as he possibly could.

Chapter Text

When Llulah had dashed off after her little tumble, Wilbur had wanted nothing more than to follow her like a show. He gripped the doorframe with trembling hands, his having turned sheet white from worry over something that hadn’t even happened yet. 

All it took was for her to fall once. 

She tripped once in her too big boots that reached her knees, falling down onto the plush earth, and already he wanted to pull her by the scruff back into the van where he knew it was safe. A little cramped, a little cluttered, but at least he knew the floors were lined with plush carpets, and there were no jagged rocks protruding from it, unlike the forest floor. 

There were no visible bruises, no blood, nothing that would normally cause alarm, but the bells in his head wouldn’t stop ringing, shrieking in his ears as he pictured something that he didn’t want to describe, for fear the nightmare would seep into his reality. 

It was that pesky ‘yet’ t hat had his nerves fried. 

Before he could take a single step, he felt a firm squeeze on his shoulder. He bit back a groan, as he knew from the sudden smell of lavender and weed who it was that kept him anchored to the floor. 

He let out a groan.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” He said. “Till Ren woke up and told me you’re bein’ a mama hen again.”

“Ren you bastard.” Wilbur grumbled.

Renbob chuckled. He relaxed his hold on Wilbur.

Until he tried to make a break for it and then had to be reeled back in like a fish.

“...Renbob.”

“Wilbur.”

Wilbur struggled not to huff like a disgruntled teenager. “Are you going to let me go?”

“It depends,” he said. “Are ya gonna leave her alone?”

“Now why would I go and do something stupid like that?”

“Because I’m not askin’ you to.” Renbob’s grip tightened, keeping him in place. “I’m tellin’ you.”

“I don’t recall asking for permission in the first place.”

“And I don’t recall you bein’ in charge of this van.”

Wilbur…didn’t have a rebuttal to that.

“She’s fine, Wil.” Renbob said. “Look at her! She’s makin’ her own fun!”

He did look, much to his chagrin.

Because as soon as he did, he had to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth as Llulah hopped to reach a branch. She had to stand on the very tips of her toes just so her fingers could brush against the nettles, her blonde hair attempting to burst free from her hat.

Wilbur blinked.

Brown hair.

He meant brown hair. 

“Wil, c’mon, man.” Renbob’s voice said, though he may as well have been shouting from across the room. “It’s beautiful out! Just let her run ‘round and play for a bit. What’s the harm?”

He didn’t care how beautiful it was outside, or how much the smell of damp earth tampered down the gasoline he’d gotten used to. He’d never been to this part of Empires before and that-

He’d heard stories from Jimmy about Mythland. 

Stories shared late into the night in the very van that he had just spent hours driving in. When Martyn was outside on watch, Grian was sleeping in Fundy’s room, and Eret had dozed off over a pile of unfinished maps, the two of them would share a midnight coffee, and Wilbur would listen to Jimmy weave tales of his home, enraptured by the world he painted. Though he preferred to speak of his home, The Ocean Empire, and Mezaelea, he would talk about other Empires too if prodded enough. 

It wasn’t spoken of with as much contempt as The Grimlands was by any means, but it was clear he had no love for the man at the helm. The land itself, however, was described once in passing as ‘nothing but trees, fog, and sheep- I mean, who’d want to live somewhere without a single lake?’ and from what he had seen driving through, he found himself sharing The Codfather’s sentiment. 

Except for the sheep part. 

He hadn’t seen a single one. 

For a land rumored to have sheep with wool the color of freshly spilled blood just roaming around, he hadn’t seen any red that didn’t come from the sweet berry bushes littered amongst the greenery. Which would have been fine- he knew not to believe every rumor he’s heard, especially when those rumors came from Jimmy after a pint- but he hadn’t seen any regular sheep either. White, brown, black, and grey wool all seemed to be elusive in this corner of Mythland. He’d try to keep his ears out, but it was hard to make out anything over the rumbling of the engine, let out alone a singular ‘bahhh’ that could break through the silence. 

He’d probably feel a lot better letting his little Llulah run around all willy nilly if he had seen a sheep or two. 

Even if they were wild, that at least meant there was something beyond the labyrinth of wilderness- somewhere pleasant where they could drink and graze and be merry. Or whatever it was sheep do. Wilbur wasn’t far too fond of them to bother knowing what it was they did in their spare time. 

And if there were sheep, that meant there were other animals. 

“The harm is-” Wilbur yanked his arm away, and turned to properly face his friend. “That we’re in the middle of nowhere and not even close to the portal yet. If I may say so, I…I just don’t think we should be wasting all this time! That’s all!”

Renbob was unimpressed. 

He just raised his brow, and asked, “Really? That’s all?”

Fuck, he’s good.

He tried to laugh, but the expression on his face didn’t budge. He gulped, and forced a smile that he hoped would put the man at ease.

“Renbob, my friend-”

“No.” He said. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me why she can’t run ‘round and have some fun for a bit. She’s been cooped up all freaking day, man! And so have you.”

“What’s this got to do with me?!”

“My brother, out of all of us, you probably need the fresh air the most.”

Wilbur scoffed at the notion. “I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Renbob shoved a finger into his chest. “Now you give me one good reason that-”

“I can give you ten!” He threw his arms up in the air. “We don’t have a proper map, you said yourself the next village isn’t for miles, we haven’t seen a SINGLE person or ANIMAL for that matter, and- and oh, apparently I’m the only whose getting the fucking creeps right now! I almost crashed the van into a tree! I just want to get out of here and- and-!”

His chest heart tightened in the confines of his chest, the arteries twisting in knots that would take even the most skilled craftsman hours to untangle. He placed his hand above it, feeling it beat beneath his palms. 

“What if she… what if she gets hurt?” 

Wilbur’s voice dropping to a whisper made his expression soften. 

“Wil…”

“You…you heard xB, Hermitcraft is a ghost town now. If- gods for fucking bid she breaks a bone or- or fall out of a tree! There will be NO ONE there to-!" 

If he had the hackles Renbob did, then they would be raised. He did have feathers, which puffed up as far as they could, sticking out of his back like spines. The burning behind his eyes did nothing to stop his already running mouth.

“You need to understand that- that I have reasons for this.” He practically pleaded. “I have reasons why I don’t let her out of my sight unless I know something won’t happen, and unless you know something I don’t, then even you can’t guarantee I’m not justified! I wouldn’t say my judgment is perfect but- but-”

“Wilbur, breathe, man.”

He tried to do as requested. 

For once, he tried to listen to Renbob in front of him, instead of the screams echoing in his mind. 

But as he couldn’t separate the forest from the trees, he couldn’t separate what he had lived for himself from the demons that poked and prodded at his grey matter. He couldn’t articulate to someone like Renbob who had never seen a day of war in his life that he was still standing on that battlefield. He had never left. The blood on his hands could never be washed off, and now he was standing here, staining him with it. 

“Whatever-” Wilbur pulled away from him, eyes cast onto the ground.

Renbob's hand surged back out to grab him.

“I’m not-” He sighed and hung his head. “Relax. I’m not running off. You’re…you’re right, I just need some air, alright?”

“I…”

Renbob’s arm dropped back to his side.

“Are you sure, man? I don’t want you to be alone when you’re-”

“I’ll be alright.” He gave the faintest smile to put his friend at ease. “You’re not exactly far.”

He stepped away from the warm light of the van and paced into the fog. 

Wilbur pulled his communicator out of his inventory as he muttered under his breath. He didn’t look back, because he knew if he did, Renbob’s big blue eyes would just bore right into his soul, and he’d already laid it bare once today, he wasn’t keen on doing it again.

Not when he had other matters to attend to.

Starting with making a call. 

RIIIING.

RIIIING.

RIIING.

BEEP.

“HELLO THERE!” 

“Oh, fuck me- voicemail again?!”

The crackly voice of Tommy Innit’s now familiar sounding voicemail burst through the speaker and crawled directly into Wilbur’s ear whilst he was in the middle of an elongated groan. 

Though grating as it may be, he refused to pull the device away from him. 

Any reasonable person would hear someone threatening to burst their eardrums and have the sense to hang up before the message could continue. Or at the very least, they’d move the speaker away and let it play out until the tone told them it was their turn to speak. 

But he refused to stop soaking in this poor substitute for his little sister, because if he did so now, it would be like giving up on her entirely. He would listen to the voicemail completely through, just as he had the last two times he had attempted to call her. 

He waited in anticipation for the deep breath she took between her words, and even found himself chuckling as she took an audible breath.  He could hear her gulp in the air that would fill her lungs to then be expelled into nonsensical ramblings, and found himself letting out a chuckle. He could see her chest puffed out like an old rubber house cartoon, something she often did before she began ranting and raving about…it never mattered what. She put the same energy into everything regardless of what it was. 

You’d think that he’d have stopped flinching with how long he’s been on the receiving end, but it must have been so long since he’s heard her voice like this that his shoulders flew as far up as they could go. His feathers even gave an annoyed ruffle from stuffed underneath his cardigan. 

And although the suddenness of her shout made him want to, he resisted the urge to toss his communicator to the ground.  

“THIS IS TOMMY’S VOICEMAIL!” She shouted. “ Doc said I had to change it to be ‘less obnoxious’ or whatever the fuck- HOW’S THIS FOR OBNOXIOUS DOC? HUH? BEEP BEEP BITCH.”

BEEP.

Here came the part that made his palms slick with sweat. 

“Uh- hello there, Tommy-” Wilbur said into the speaker with a hushed, uncharacteristically meek voice. 

He kicked an abandoned ant hill, and moved the dirt around with his heel. 

“This is- well, you know who this is. I know it’s been some time but, I’ve got- I’ve got some Hermits here with me and…and..”

He crunched twigs beneath his feet as he paced back and forth just outside the van. He screwed his eyes shut as his next words came out in a clumsy wheeze, like a camera struggling to shutter.

“Just- can you call me back as soon as you can, please?” He said as his lip quivered. “I-I know you haven’t got a reason to, since I was a real bastard the last time we properly spoke- I’ll admit that! But I just want…I need to know you’re okay. Okay? I don’t care if you tell me to fuck right off, all I want to know is that you’re safe.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

He’s begged her to stay safe more times than he could count.

And he would continue to do so as long as he was able. 

“...Goodbye, Tommy.” He said in the ghost of a whisper. It would be a miracle if Tommy managed to hear it. “I hope you’re doing alright, wherever you are.”

Wilbur didn’t spare a glance as he hung up. 

He didn’t open his eyes either. 

The darkness that surrounded him on all sides was oddly comforting, and he found himself breathing without forcing his lungs to comply- a feat he didn’t think possible, especially when he let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in the first place. 

“Calm down.” He muttered under his breath. “Calm down, idiot. She’s fine. She’s fine.”

He could tell himself that all he wanted, but if he truly believed it, then he wouldn’t have bothered to leave his third voicemail. 

If he thought that she was fine on her own, then he would have tried to call someone else. Tommy wasn’t the only contact he had out of their handful of misplaced Hermits, and yet it was she who he continued to try- and fail- to contact. 

He could call on Grian again. Grian was certainly…an option. 

Even though their parting was sudden and filled with such sweet sorrow, he was sure that the initial awkwardness would find itself smoothed over, and they’d fall back into usual banter. That’s how he always pictured how the two of them would reconcile, anyway. After so long of only having each other to lean on when the darkness was closing in, Grian would be able to pick up on what Wilbur wanted to say before he knew what it was- and that would be that. Nothing was as complicated as the rest of the world was when he would go to Grian, hence why his com should be the one Wilbur was blowing up like a clingy ex-girlfriend.

He could call up his good friend Ranboo, who he had last seen on Nightmare Night.  From what he remembered they had been happy to see him, and they had even been receptive to the advice he had tried his damndest to clumsily give. 

Hell, he could even call his long time friend Impulse! He’d known the man since he was a teenager! Whatever was stopping him from picking up his communicator now, Wilbur was sure would be completely forgotten about when he next picked up to answer. The man was always eager to try and re-connect, and who was he to deny Impulse such a thing?

All of them, if they had the ability to, would pick up and not hurl colorful expletives at him like it was sport. 

Instead, Wilbur had chosen to memorize her voicemail beat for beat like it was poetry and could recite it under his breath if he so wished. 

Thunk.

The sound of his communicator hitting the soil made his eyes snap open.

The sudden burst of light from the van blinded him and made him awkwardly stumble on his own two feet. He lifted his hand up in order to squint through the high beams, then kneeled down to pick it up and wipe off the dirt. He scowled as a smudge stained his already scuffed screen. 

“Damn it-” He wiped it with the hem of his shirt. “Give me a fucking break-” 

In trying to clean the dirt, something else popped up, making his screen go from the blue of his home screen, to the familiar off white of-

“Wait- don’t- stupid overly sensitive UI-”

The gods must be putting him to the test today, as with clumsy fingers and stray woolen fibers, he had managed to pull up a treasure trove of unfiltered heart ache. 

In front of his eyes was nothing but grim reminders of what he had let slip through his fingers- echoes from a time that he would crawl across broken glass to get back. He shoved the idea that his own thoughts turned prose would make excellent song lyrics away, as his gaze darted from face to face, from grin to grin.

The photo gallery was somewhere sacred in his eyes. 

When it came to communicators, he never was one to care about its usual features. 

Function over form was how he liked his technology to be, hence why he rode around in his van and never saw the appeal in an electric guitar over a classic, acoustic model. It didn’t matter to him how big the screen was, if it came with a headphone jack, or if it left him unable to use his collection of cartridges. It could have removed the call and chat functions entirely, and if it were at the right price, he would still give it a go. 

In the heat of battle, he could never afford to be picky. And afterwards, it became a habit he never grew out of.

All that mattered to him was that he got to keep his photos.

His frown deepened. His finger hovered over an album that he hadn’t opened in…

If he wanted to re-open old wounds, then there were easier ways of doing so than by a glimpse of familiar blonde hair tucked into a hat far too big for the young boy wearing it. 

A single stray tear ran down his cheek. 

“...Wil?” 

“Huh?” 

His head shot up and he blinked, seeming to remember where he was- in the middle of a forest in Mythland, being stared at by three separate faces clouded with worry. He had been somewhere else completely, to the point he had to blink again, the last visage of that big toothy grin fading into the back of his head where it belonged.

The plentiful conversation around him had long simply faded away. Ren and Renbob, who normally had the two loudest voices in any given room, had become nothing more than background noise that was carried off by the same wind that rustled the trees hard enough that any eggs left in a bird nest had surely been turned into an omelet. 

They could have been saying anything, and he wouldn’t have heard it over his grumblings. 

And now they were staring at him like he had grown an extra set of wings, expecting him to say something.  

He shook his head, and paired it with an airy laugh. 

“Y-Yes!” He said without knowing the question that had been asked. “I agree with all of you!”

If there was a correct answer then Wilbur had missed it by a mile, as two sets of blue pierced into him, causing him to physically stagger back. 

“Wilbur…are you okay, dude?” Ren tentatively asked. “You seem kinda out of it.”

“Oh yes! Yes, I’m completely fine!”

“Are you-?”

“I’m just eager to get going, that’s all.” He kept a smile plastered on his face.

“Finally!”

Wilbur jumped.

When the hell did xB come outside?

He stamped the unlit cigarette underneath his flip-flop, and said whilst stretching his arms above his head, “I’ve been ready to go since we got here. I think that we should start heading towards a village or something.”

Wilbur nearly doubled over in relief. 

“I guess.” Renbob sighed. “Man, you people have no respect for nature!”

“I’ll have respect for nature when it’s not thirty degrees out, thanks. I’m freezing my tits off over here.”

Wilbur’s fake smile turned into a genuine grin. 

“I couldn’t agree more!” His voice rose, so elated to finally get out of this place that if he had the time, he would do a little dance. “Oh xB, I could kiss you!”

“Please don’t.”

He laughed and slapped his knee. “I only jest, my friend.”

xB chuckled too. “Yeah, no offense, but you’re not my type. I like bears.”

“It seems we’re in agreement on that front!” He said cheerily, and clapped his hands together. “Now, gentlemen, let’s just grab Llulah and we can be on our merry way!” He looked around, still grinning ear to ear. “Where could she have gone off to?” 

He knew she couldn’t have gone far, and expected to see a splash of purple amongst the treeline. Knowing her, she must have spotted a bunny hopping around to sniff out the remnant of fall, or an arctic fox showing off its brand-new coat. She was always finding animals back home, and even bringing them into the van. 

Whatever it was keeping her from toddling their way, he just hoped she didn’t befriend another scarab. It had been a pain in the ass to shoo the last one out without killing it.

“...Llulah?” He called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Darling, it’s time to go!”

All he got back was an echo, the ‘go’, ‘go’, ‘go’ taunting him. 

His heart dropped like an anvil into his stomach. 

“Llulah!” He called louder. “Llulah, sweetheart, it’s not time for hiding! Please, you’ve won whatever game you’re playing!”

“Llulah!” Renbob joined in. “Come to your tío!”

“It’s time to go Lala!” Ren bellowed. 

“Kid!” xB shouted, probably the loudest besides Wilbur. “Kid, come on!”

Wilbur's arms were limp at his sides, unmoving like they were lined with lead. 

His mouth laid agape, and yet he couldn’t breathe, only able to heave out a single word amongst the millions that were shooting their way through his brain. 

“No.” 

No.

Not again. 

Not now.

“No- nonono no-”

His hands flew up to grasp at his hair and he tugged with all his might. 

He stared down at the ground that threatened to swallow him whole, surrounding him once again in an endless tunnel of darkness. His chest heaved up and down as his ribs threatened to crack under the pressure, but none of that mattered when he thought of what could have possibly happened to his daughter. 

“C-Calm down, all of you!” Renbob held his arms out like he was holding back a pack of vultures from swarming. “Panickin’ like a buncha chickens ain’t gonna do shit!”

“Well what the hell else do we do!?” Ren shrieked. 

“She’s like, four years old!” xB exclaimed. “She could get, I dunno, mauled by an enderman! Or blown up by a creeper! Or-”

“DUDE YOU ARE NOT HELPING.” Poor Ren looked like he was about to keel over. 

“All of you, shut UP!” Renbob snapped. “We’ve got to- FUCK- WILBUR WAIT-!”

Renbob’s desperate shouts did nothing to stop Wilbur from bursting through the trees as fast as his legs would carry him. He merely left a cloud of dust in his wake.

There was a crunch beneath his feet and a tear from the back of his cardigan where his wings erupted free from their confines. He soared up into the air not of his own accord, and when he broke free of the canopy he could make out everything below him- not that anything registered besides the sounds of his own dry heaving and pounding heart. 

Oh how he hated how loud it was. What if she was crying out for him and he couldn’t hear her over his own damned heartbeat?

He wished it would just stop. 

The massive expanse of trees that, as he feared, looked as if they went on and on forever, littered across a blue sky that he hadn’t seen since Pixandria, were all identical to the untrained eyes- the same shape, the same color, only differing in size. Their spindly, rustling nettles acted like a shield over the rest of the kingdom, and thanks to the fog rolling in, it was even harder to tell whether the billow of smoke in the distance was there at all.

Maybe Wilbur had just finally cracked.

Upon this realization, from up above the world so high where there wasn’t a soul who could hear him do so, he let out a roar of pure frustration. One that had been building up, and up, and up, and was now let out in the pure, guttural sound of an animal with nothing left to lose.  

“LLULAH!” He cried out into the thickening fog. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Chapter Text

“TALLULAH!” Wilbur cupped his hands over his mouth. “TALLULAH?!”

“Llulah!” Renbob’s flashlight swept across a bundle of trees that he swore he had just searched, but he still crept forward to circle around their trunks, just in case he was mistaken. “Llulah, we ain’t mad, we promise! Just- just come on out! This game’s gone on long enough!”

“Tallulah Melody Soot, I’m done playing around!” Though he tried to stay strict, the weight pressing down on his chest betrayed him, causing cracks in the words he was throwing out, hoping that one would find its target. “Tallu-!”

“Wait, wait-” 

Renbob turned his flashlight onto Wilbur, who winced, and covered his face with his hand.

“Sorry, sorry! Lemme just-!”

“No, it’s quite alright.” He gave the faintest chuckle. “What’s wrong? Did you see anything?”

“No, sorry.”

“Damn it.”

“Yeah…I just have a little question, no big deal or nothin’, so don’t trip.”

“O…kay?” He quirked his brow as he stared directly over the light, a golden halo forming around his friend. 

“...‘Melody’?” 

Wilbur’s eyes widened, his face pale as the unreachable moonlight. 

“Y-Yeah?” He croaked. “Is there a problem?”

“No!” He held his hands up in defense. “Not at all! I just- I didn’t know we’d given her a middle name!”

“Is now really the time to be discussing this?”

“You’re right, you’re right- my bad-”

“Y-Yeah…no worries.” 

Renbob turned back around.

Wilbur did the same. 

“...Personally, I woulda’ gone for Vienna but-”

He couldn’t help himself from letting out a long, long groan. 

Now Renbob was the one chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just thought we’d have, ya know, put it to a vote or something!”

“A vote?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah! Ya know, good ol democracy!”

“I’m more than aware of how democracy works, thank you, but how exactly would that work when there’s only two of us?”

“I…Well shit, ya got me there.”

All Wilbur could do was sigh and go back to shining his light until he hit something that wasn’t trees, trees, and more trees.

He tried his hand at forcing his light into the thin slivers left between trees that grew so close together that their branches outstretched into one another. It would have been an absolute marvel, if not for the fact he’d passed almost two dozen identical trees that did the same thing- unusually flexible branches forming shapes that he didn’t think trees were capable of making without help. A handful would have made it a marvel, but now, his eyes simply grew tired of the same jagged edges trying to hard be edges. 

Maybe it was the late hour of the night paired with his stomach growling and cobwebs lining his face like a sheet mask, but he found himself not caring in the slightest when the trees grew stranger and stranger. 

One spruce had begun oozing something out of a hole meant for squirrels or birds- something that made the whole forest smell like wet pennies for miles- but he walked right past without a second glance. 

Another evergreen that shot through the canopy, making a hole in the forest’s armor, only made him give pause so he could feel a draft waft through his hair. He couldn’t see a single star though, so he passed by and wrote it off as a novelty. 

Soon enough, he stopped keeping an eye out for oddities and started to see them as the inconveniences that they were. 

Sweat that had been pooling down the back of his shirt was now cool to the touch from the countless of meandering through the labyrinth of trees- so many hours, in fact, that more than once Wilbur had thought about crafting an axe from the twigs and stray pebbles around him, and swinging until every last tree was nothing but a heap of wood in his inventory. It played out in his head like a dance and was the only reason his flashlight hadn’t slipped from his slick palms. 

If he held it tight enough, then maybe the light dancing inside of it would lead him to Llulah like a divining rod. Though that didn’t stop them from trembling so erratically that the flashlight in his hands flickered as if it were mere candlelight. He could hardly see two blocks in front of him with it, but without it, he’d be screwed.

A faint flicker of hope forced him to push onwards, even as his legs had long gone numb. 

Each step was a struggle. Each snap of a twig under foot caused him to turn his head every which way. And every time he did, and found nothing but more taunting trees, that flicker was closer to dying out. 

The trees around him that had rustled before were now stagnant, nary a twitch coming from the nettles. They towered over him in a way that threatened to swallow him whole if he stayed in one place. Even something as innocuous as an odd tangle of tree roots was enough to send him scrambling backwards, giving him more reason to press on than just a simple search and rescue. 

He didn’t trust the canopy to stop phantoms from swooping overhead. He didn’t trust the berry bushes to not be hiding creepers in their foliage. Any moment he expected Renbob’s voice to be replaced with screams from whizzing arrows aimed at their chests, but if he took the time to think about it, then he’d recall he hadn’t heard so much as a zombie growl since they’d parked. 

What other reason besides a primal fear that all Players had would he have for being afraid of a mobless forest?

If asked, he’d say of course he wasn’t afraid of the darkness, as he’d gone through far worse- but how could he not be when in front of him there was more of the endless nothing to be prodded, and the van was long behind him. Its warmth now felt like a distant memory that he longed to return to, even though he didn’t have any idea where the van even was with how far the two of them had trekked.

Ren and xB had stayed behind in case Llulah wandered back home on her own. Someone needed to be there, because if she came home to an empty van, then she might have found herself wandering back into the shadows. 

Ren had at first wanted to join the search party. Out of him and Renbob, he had the stronger nose and sharper ears- and he was lucky Renbob wasn’t in the mood to argue over whether or not that was bullshit. If he stayed behind, it would take them twice as long to find Llulah. 

But in the end, it was Renbob who talked him down from it and insisted the two stay and guard the van. 

“We dunno what the hell is out here-” He had said, so uncharacteristically serious that Ren found himself nodding regardless of his feelings on the matter. “If you an’ xB stay here then you can come grab us if shit hits the van.”

For all they knew she was back home by now, wrapped in a bundle of blankets and being spoiled to bits after something so harrowing. Ren would obviously coo at her and get anything her heart desired, and xB would be cracking jokes- from what Wilbur knew about the man, that seemed like exactly what he would do in a crisis. 

Wilbur paused. 

He stood right in front of yet another barrage of trees. 

“Renbob?” He dared to pipe up.

“Huh?” Renbob’s head shot up. “Got anything?”

“No, no I was just- I was wondering if you’ve heard from our companions yet?”

“Sorry, Wil.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ve had my phone on this whole time and haven’t heard so much as a buzz from those jokers.”

“Can- can you check anyway? For my peace of mind?”

Renbob paused where he had been about to part an odd bundle of vines like they were curtains, and flashed him a smile that made Wilbur shrink back into his hunched shoulders.  

“You got it, man!”

He pulled out his communicator from his pocket, and hummed as he popped it open. The screen turned his face a blinding white, and as he stared down at it, it didn’t take long of him squinting at his inbox for him to let out a sigh that had Wilbur already beginning to shout like a child. 

“OURGH!” 

His free hand flew to his hair, which he tugged as hard as he could. His frozen knuckles wrapped around that pesky white streak, and pulled like he was trying to rip it out of his scalp. Not that he hadn’t already tried in the past, but now, its origins were completely unrelated to the abuse it would continue to receive, as after hours of metaphorically pulling his hair out, he was ready to do so literally. 

“Calm down, man!” 

“Do NOT tell me to ‘calm down’ when she could be bloody anywhere right now!” He cried. “My- my baby could be anywhere, and you’re telling me to ‘calm down’! ‘Calm’ is the LAST thing I should be! I should-! I should-!”

Frankly, it was a miracle that it’d taken this long for him to snap. 

He had crash landed in a heap of his own feathers when the suns were still high in the sky, and now it was well past when anyone should be out and about. His cardigan had been lost hours ago, and he wasn’t even wearing any shoes, making every step was a tetanus shot waiting to happen. 

Normally underneath a sky full of stars, this was when he would tuck Llulah in for her nightly story, surrounded by plushies and satiated with a glass of warm milk, but…

There were curfews on servers like this for a reason, and although they weren’t in an established residential area or bustling village, Renbob had still told them about the 11 pm curfew that the citizens of Mythland tended to follow so they wouldn’t bump into an agitated enderman while walking their dogs. Though over the past few years since the new king had been crowned- Sausage if he recalled correctly- that law had turned into more of a suggestion. 

“She could be anywhere!” He continued as he hung his head. “ How do you find someone when they could be ANYWHERE! It’s- it’s bad enough that we’ve got no idea where we are, but Llulah, she- she’s just a child! She can’t be wandering around on her own! She could be anywhere by now!”

“H- Hey, hey man, Mythland ain’t that big a place.” He turned around and shone his flashlight at Wilbur’s midsection so he wouldn’t flash bang him with the strongest light he could find in the back cupboards of the van. “She’s gotta be ‘round here somewhere! We just gotta keep looking!”

If he had heard anything Renbob said, he certainly didn’t show it. 

“...Wil?” Renbob dared to ask after a beat that caused the air around him to still. 

Wordlessly, his shoulders drooped, the flashlight in his hands- the only light of his own that he had- now held callously. His finger brushed against the switch like it was the trigger of a pistol, and with that, he let out a long, shaky breath.

Wilbur had been shouting for hours now, into the unforgiving shroud of night, his voice growing more hoarse every time he bellowed. He’d stop keeping track of the echoes that bounced back his way when the suns had set, leaving him surrounded by nothing but darkness and silence, and causing his heart to stop dead in its tracks even as he forced himself to push onward. 

He inhaled and closed his eyes.

Renbob’s eyes widened. Was he-? 

Then he exhaled.

He slowly raised his arm as high up as it could go. 

It trembled violently as he struggled to keep it up right. Besides the shaking, he was as still as a statue standing amongst the circle of foliage. Even his feathers didn’t move, his wings kept perfectly tucked against his back so he didn’t go shooting up into the sky again. 

Then, with a hefty swing of his arm, Wilbur’s flashlight went CRACK against the earth. 

The light inside of it died instantly, and sent shards of glass scattered around his feet. 

“WOAH! Wilbur!”  

Renbob jumped backwards against the trunk of a tree. His head went thunk against the wood, and yet he did nothing but stare. The throbbing would go away on its own, but if he tore his eyes off Wilbur for less than a tick, who knows what else he would do. 

“What the HECK are you doin’?!”

“I’m afraid-” He said in a seethe, his heel grinding against a stray shard until there was nothing but dust weaved between stray stands of cotton. “That this damn thing is useless.”

His jaw hung open.

“Would- would you say we need to keep a useless object around?” Now he almost laughed. “Objects are- when an object is no longer of use, it is discarded. So I did just that. I discarded it. I discarded it, and I’ll discard anything else that’s of no fucking use.”

He raised his foot to stomp down on a particularly sharp piece of glass. One positioned just right, so that the edge would sink perfectly into the tendons of Wilbur’s sole.

Without thinking, Renbob tackled him to the ground.

“AH-”

Wilbur flailed like a rabid animal flat on his back, his legs floundering uselessly from underneath Renbob’s. His pupils had turned into pinpricks, and he let out a squawk that he didn’t know he was capable of making in the first place. 

“WHAT-WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” He shouted as his arms swung but were met with only air. He landed one good hit across his chin that would certainly bruise, before he bellowed, "GET THE HELL OF OFF ME!"

“You’re freaking me the hell out, man!” Renbob exclaimed, his own chest heaving up and down. It was clear from the hot tears trapped in the corners of his eyes that he refused to let stream down his cheeks that he didn’t want to be doing this, but how else was he supposed to stop Wilbur from hurting himself or worse? “I-I panicked!”

“You- you didn’t have to panic THIS hard!”

“Yeah, I did! Because you- you were about to cut yourself open over fucking- over WHAT?!”

He stopped his flailing at once to stare up at him, dumbfounded.

His shaggy braid dangled in front of his face like the lure of an angler fish, and his sunglasses slipped right onto his nose, square onto his chest, allowing Wilbur to see that his eyes that were normally a friendly blue were now mostly black, pupils so wide he could see his own reflection inside. 

His chest continued to heave, even though Wilbur had settled down, a far cry from when he was flopping like a fish. 

“You…you always freaking do this.” Renbob hung his head. 

“...Hit you?”

“No! No, I don’t give a flying fuck about that!”

“Then what-?”

“You- You know shit just happens sometimes, right?” Renbob pleaded, staring directly down at Wilbur from atop his torso. “Shit happens sometimes! And it doesn’t HAVE to be anyone’s fault! But you’ve got this- this complex that warps everything around you until you’ve completely convinced yourself that it is! It just ain’t right! I can’t bear watchin’ you punish yourself for nothing!”

The tears landed onto Wilbur’s shirt. His hands curled around the fabric, revealing his midriff and happy trail.

“I don’t know what you’ve gone through-” He continued, not giving him a moment to butt in. “And it’s fine if I never do. I don’t need to know everythin’ about you, man. Because it’s clear whatever it was you went through back home was so fucked up that- that you just keep hurting yourself for no damn reason, and it’s scaring the shit out of me! I-I keep thinking that one day I'm gonna come home and find you- find you-”

Renbob took a deep steady breath, and wiped away the remaining tears.

“Renbob…”

He didn’t say anything.

If he did, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from crying as easily as he just did. 

“This…tonight…this is all my fault.” 

Although Wilbur spoke a hair above a whisper, his words still cracked. He tried to speak delicately, because seeing Renbob cry whilst on top of him was as brutal as watching a puppy be beaten with a meat tenderizer. He wanted to look away, but forced himself to look into his eyes as he said-

“Llulah, she-”

“How? How is it possibly your fault when I’m the one who told you to let her go off an’ play on her own?”

His eyes went so wide you could rest teacups on them.

He had completely forgotten about that.

“...See?” Renbob sighed. 

“I…”

“It ain’t your fault all the time. So why do you keep torturing yourself like it is?”

Wilbur was left speechless. 

Any useful words that he could have possibly uttered died on his tongue. 

“Can-” He somehow managed to gulp. “Can you get off me, please?”

“That depends.” He huffed. “Are ya gonna try smackin’ me around again?”

“No, I…I think that’s all I’ve got in me. I’ve gotten rusty.”

He cracked a grin at that.

“Haven’t we all?”

He was the first one to stand up. He brushed the dirt off of his already muddy and thistle covered joggers and extended his hand out graciously for Wilbur to take.

“Thank- oh!”

Renbob didn’t hesitate to pull him into a much-needed hug.

All he had to do was squeeze, and his eyes that had been darting around in narrowed dots softened at the edges. His arms dropped to his side as if obsidian ran through his veins and dangled there uselessly while he was pulled into a tight hug. 

“That flashlight was fine, kid.” He said softly. “And so are you.”

It didn’t take long for him to feel a dampness growing on his shoulder. 

“You-” Wilbur tried to compose himself, though that didn’t stop a stray sob from escaping his quivering lips. “You haven’t called me that in quite some time.”

“Well…you ain’t really a kid anymore, man.” He sighed, patting him on the head. “But ya know, no matter what, you’re always gon’ be that dumbass kid who didn’t know how to make a can of beans to me.”

He let out a wet laugh, but it died instantly.

“...What are we gonna do about Llulah?”

“We’ll find her, man. I just know we-”

BZZT. BZZT. BZZT 

Renbob and Wilbur locked eyes. 

“...Speak of the devil?”