Thus Always to Tyrants

let the ransomed be free (as the revel meets the day)

Ranboo had lost another finger the morning they came back. His ring finger on his left hand, he could never get married now, he thought bitterly. His fingers were bandaged, thankfully they didn't get infected before his captors took care of his wounds. He had a new cut on his other cheek, not quite a twin to his first scar.

Ranboo was also taken to a new room, this one without a light, but it did have a window, high on the wall, protected with thick iron bars. Some amount of sunshine was let in, which was nice considering there was only his cot and a heavy wooden chair bolted to the ground.

He'd stolen some paper and taken a loose, dark stone from the floor. He was writing. Ranboo was writing down directions. He'd been blindfolded and taken to the water tower and was doing his best to write directions.

Him and Tubbo had come up with a secret code when they started their work, in case they were in danger they could send out some sort of message and Tubbo or Tommy could come help. Hopefully his kidnappers wouldn't be able to crack it, it was pretty good for something made by then-15-year-olds. It was mostly for Ranboo, but just in case they had him write any more letters he could try and sneak in any information.

As luck would have it, they were going to send another message. He stuffed the hastily written instructions into his pocket as he was dragged out. Something something, him still being here, something something more threats. As Ranboo folded the paper after they'd checked it over, he slipped in the directions. Hopefully they'd be able to find it.

Ranboo was thrown back into the room, not missing anything but the life he had. Maybe this was some karmic punishment for something that had happened.

Why didn't they come? Ranboo tried to remember back to the water tower. There was muffled shouting, two gunshots, then he was taken back here.

"They're coming..." Ranboo promised himself again, just like he did every night. He remembered when he first met Tubbo and Tommy, the nights they spent in his van. Their van.

He had a panic attack a week after he'd met them. Ranboo had had these attacks before, but he didn't have Tommy and Tubbo to help him. Tubbo was there first, and he'd shown him a trick.

He counted his fingers. Up to ten then back down again. Ranboo counted his fingers now, up to eight plus his two phantom fingers then back down again. He felt a bit better, then went to count his toes. Up to ten then back down again.

Tommy was there soon after Tubbo, happily rambling about whatever came to mind when he realized what was going on. That's how it was when Ranboo had panic attacks, Tubbo would calm him and Tommy would distract him. It was good, it was nice.

He wanted them right now as he curled in his bed, his mind racing, his heart pounding, sweat pouring down his forehead. Ranboo didn't cry, he couldn't cry, just strangled gasps of breath, the tears tingling on his burn scars.

Ranboo wanted nothing more than to go home. To his home. To that ratty apartment, to that mason jar that they swore would be used to store their vacation money. It never was.

He remembered the day Tommy had stolen them banana bread and milk, the bread was warm and the milk was fresh. They used the butter they had and made a day of it, pretending they were fancy people having tea parties despite the fact that they lacked tea.

Ranboo would kill to have that banana bread again, to have that lazy day again. But he couldn't, he was here. No banana bread, no family. Just him, sans two fingers.

***

"Wilbur!" Kristin screamed as she saw her boy, her perfect, beautiful, baby boy, on the couch. Dead. Was he dead? She couldn't tell, she couldn't tell if her boy was dead or sleeping. Techno was grasping at his tattered coat, dirty and stained with old, old stains. Soot and dirt and blood. Who's blood was it.