Dream SMP Oneshots

Untitled Part 13

The scream ripped through his lungs, he trembled, he knocked over the candle on the desk, the hot iron burned his hands, tears stained his cheeks.

Ranboo stood, staring at the wreckage of his home, little arms wrapped around his calf. He patted the young boy's head, desperately trying to smudge the dirt from his face. He cooed to the young boy, hopeful to stop the gasping sobs, "It's alright, Honeybee, we'll get it all sorted out," Ranboo picked up his son, balancing him like a basket on his hip. He pursed his lips and scanned the driveway for the fireman. They must've left, I guess I forgot, Ranboo brushed his hair back, the snow falling, decorating his eyelashes with little intricate ornaments, "Come on, Michael, do you want to call Grandpa Phil for me while I try to find some of our things."

Michael nodded.

"Perfect, go to the neighbor's and ask if you can borrow the phone, you remember his number, right?" Michael nodded again, delicately climbing out of Ranboo's arms and walking slowly down the drive and around the corner to the neighbor's. He wore his frog jacket with the hood up, a pair of gray jeans, and a pair of yellow galoshes.

Ranboo sighed, putting his head in his hands. He couldn't take much more, he was on the edge. The fire happened just after his late husband's funeral, everyone's nerves were already fried, he didn't know if Philza would want to help. Ranboo quickly shook the thoughts from his head, hiking his long pants and venturing into his home. He knew officials would advise against it, but he needed to find something.

After what felt like ages of digging, he found a small assortment of items. He found a blue strip of fabric from the first national flag, a compass that his husband had held close to his heart, a few stacks of emerald blocks to get Michael and him back on their feet, and the charred remains of his son's favorite stuffed toy. It was a chicken that he and his husband had gotten for him from a carnival on their third anniversary. He also found a few changes of clothes for both Michael and him.

He gathered the things into his chest and stepped his way out of the wreckage. He found his son sitting on a bench at the end of the drive. People had dropped off bouquets and wreaths throughout the morning, as soon as the news had spread of the house burning.

The Beloveds had been well respected in the community, they would participate in fundraisers, help their neighbors with favor here, a penny there. They volunteered at local shelters as often as they could, they even ran a banquet in late fall years prior.

"Honeybee," Ranboo said quietly, trying not to startle the young boy, "I got your chicken." The boy looked at Ranboo. His vision had been impaired since Ranboo and his husband had adopted him, one white eye peering into Ranboo's.

"Thank you, papa," Michael accepted the chicken, clutching it to his chest. His face was twisted into a sort of sadness that Ranboo had never seen on a child's face before.

"What's wrong?" Ranboo crouched, placing his hand on his son's knee.

Michael wiped his face, "Grandpa Phil said he's on his way," He sniffed, barely audible. Ranboo only sighed in response, not wanting to pry. Ranboo stood and sat on the bench next to Michael, pulling his son onto his lap. He thought he had fallen asleep when he heard the sound of tires crunching gravel. He opened his eyes to a rust-colored truck pulling into the driveway. He shook Michael awake as the truck parked and two blond men walked out, "Grandpa Phil! Uncle Tommy!" Michael hopped out of Ranboo's lap and went to give Phil a hug.

Ranboo pulled his coat tight around him as he stood, brushing his hair back. He collapsed into Tommy's arms, "Thank you so much for making it, it's just until we can help get the house fixed and sorry it's on such short notice-"

"Oh my god, shut up, you've ruined the moment," Tommy shook his head. He turned to Michael, "'Ello, Little Monster." He greeted, giving Michael a hug. Ranboo hugged Phil.

"Do you have all your things? Techno's off to University so we have a spare room," Phil received the bag that Ranboo had put the clothes in and hauled it into the back of the truck, "We have the car seat from when you guys visited last, it's in the bed of the truck if you want to grab it."

Ranboo glanced at Tommy who was babbling with Michael, trying to calm the little kid down. Ranboo grabbed the carseat, buckled it into the car, and lifted Michael into it, doing the straps on his chest, "All set?"

"Chicken," Michael whined, Ranboo looked back at Tommy who had it in his hands.

"The... uh... the chicken, Tom," Tommy looked in the chicken that was in his hand, then back at Ranboo.

"Right, sorry," He handed the the chicken to Ranboo who then handed it to Michael.

"There," Ranboo began to step away from the truck and close the door when he heard a whimper from inside. He looked back inside and was met by big, pleading eyes, "I just have to talk to Grandpa Phil about something, I'll sit with you in a minute." Michael sniffed but nodded. Ranboo shut the door carefully, turning to Phil.

Phil's face was pressed into worry, his hair had gained more gray streaks appearing in his blond hair since Ranboo had last seen him. Tommy looked the same, though bags under his eyes were more prominent. He looked more relaxed, though, like he had finally accepted everything that went down once his brother and his nation had been destroyed.

Phil squeezed Ranboo's shoulder, "You alright? No injuries or any of that shit?" Tommy asked, inspecting Ranboo and looking through the truck window to Michael.

"Michael got a small burn on his cheek but it's not that bad, we can take care of it when we get to your house, I'm... I'm fine," Ranboo tried his best to smile, "I think everyone is just a bit shaken up..."

The three closed their conversation and got into the car. The car bumped down the gravel road until it finally hit the smooth pavement of the city, the snow turning to rain as they drove. Ranboo clutched Michael's hand the whole time, only interrupting his conversations to see if Michael was doing alright or to pat his leg.

Ranboo didn't realize he had fallen asleep until the car lurched to a stop. He looked to his right to see Michael sleeping peacefully in his carseat, as if nothing had happened at all. Ranboo grimaced as he stood from the car, he felt as if his legs would give out from him. It confused him, he hadn't done anything physical.

"It's the stress," Tommy said, glancing at Ranboo struggling to get out of the car, "It feels a lot heavier than it may seem." Ranboo only nodded, helping Michael out of his seat and letting him scamper into the house with Phil.

"Thanks for helping me, man, Michael's really been going through it, I think he really likes being around you," Ranboo clasped a hand on Tommy's shoulder, trying to steady himself.

Tommy nodded, "You're allowed to need help, I had to learn that the hard way," Tommy then walked inside, Ranboo following close behind. He pressed his thin lips together, folding his hands behind his back. He didn't like not seeing Michael. As soon as he made it inside, he grabbed Michael's hand again.

"We still have all of the clothes and toys that you guys left here for Michael," Phil plopped a box into the center of the living room, "This should be enough 'til you guys get back on your feet."

"Yeah... thank you... if you don't mind, where's Techno's room?" Ranboo asked, scratching the back of his neck. Phil looked to Tommy who nodded, beckoning Ranboo to follow him.

Later that night, Michael and Ranboo were tucked into bed, a small picture book between them. It was the first time in a long while they knew that everything would be alright.