transboo 2

Chapter 3

tw: anxiety, self harm implication

ranboo pov:

'you need to talk to... me?' i say, hesitantly, knowing that they could just be sending me back to america with my mother.

do they not like me?

did tubbo tell them i relapsed and they decided they didn't want to deal with me anymore?

'yes, it's about your mother, or whatever you want to call that bastard woman at the door-'

'karen.' i say, bluntly, 'she doesn't get the title of being my mother anymore.'

tommy and tubbo cheer after i said that, but techno gives them a look telling them to shut up. that's when i know this is serious.

'tommy, tubbo,' phil says, 'do you mind just fucking off for a bit while we talk to ranboo.'

the two 17-year-olds sigh as they leave the room, slamming the door for added comedic affect.

'sorry about them,' phil laughs, but quickly sobers up as he moves on to the serious topic, 'sorry about karen as well, mate, she should be locked up by now.'

'did- does she-? are you sending me back?' i ask, squeezing my eyes closed because i'm scared for their response.

'no, no, of course not,' techno says, reassuringly, 'she wants you back, but we told her we won't let you go anywhere near her, alone.'

'uh, there is something else,' phil speaks up again, 'it's your dad. he's in hospital according to karen, and that's why she's here. she says he wants to see you.'

that's when it dawned on me that i haven't spoken to my dad since the day we landed in england. i haven't sent him a text or rang him once. i run out of the room, deaf to phil and techno's protests.

what if he hates you?

you're a bad son, what kind of person doesn't call their dad for over two months? he's the only one who supported you for ages. you should be nicer to him.

what if he's about to die?

what if-

and then i snap out of it.

i'm back again, in my room about to cut again, except this time i have a knife.

how do i keep getting here?

am i going to have to have tommy save me every time, because there he is. he's already here, prying the knife out of my hands before i could even do anything. i can't keep doing this and expecting tommy to save me.

'ranboo, what did they say to you?' he asks, his face and voice angry, as if he's blaming phil and techno for this.

'it's not their fault, i promise,' i say, my voice breaking as i'm on the verge of tears, 'it's mine. it has been and always will be my fault.'

'ranboo,' he continues, keeping his voice level and calm, 'what did they say to you?'

i forced myself to look at him, 'they said my dad is in hospital and he wants to see me. then it dawned on me that i hadn't spoke to my dad since the first day i got here and that made me feel like a useless son and i guess that's what caused this,' i motioned to the knife still in his hand.

'okay, if this continues, ranboo,' he starts, carefully, 'i will have to tell phil or techno because they are better at dealing with this than i am.'

'tommy,' i look at the smaller boy with tears in my eyes, 'i know this is probably a lot to hear, but, you're probably the best person to calm me down; you always do and say the right things. i don't think we need to involve the others.'

'they deserve to know. i promise they won't be mad, they'll understand and they'll try and help, like i am.'

'not yet.' i plead, feeling vulnerable.

'i won't tell them until you say i can, but i promise it's the better thing to do, ranboo. they'll know how to give you better help - sure, i may be able to calm you down in the moment, but in the long run there's not much i can do. i just want to do the best thing for you, but of course i won't tell them if you're uncomfortable with that.' he puts his arm around me as i lean into him, just thankful for some comfort.

we snap out of our silence and sit up as we hear a knock on the door. tommy puts the knife next to him, out of sight for whoever is behind the door.

'come in.' i say, as the door opens to reveal techno.

'hello,' he says, avoiding eye contact, 'this is gonna be kind of awkward, but i heard a lot of that conversation. the walls aren't exactly sound-proof.'

upon hearing those words, i bury my head in my hands, scared for his reaction, scared of whether phil also heard. i don't want to be a disappointment.

'and tommy's right,' techno continues, 'it's for the best to tell others. not only is it harmful to you for barely opening up, but it's harmful for tommy if he has to deal with it by himself.'

'no, no, it's not, i don't mind-' tommy begins to protest before techno cuts him off again.

'it doesn't matter whether you mind or not, it's going to affect you even if you're not aware of it. ranboo,' techno turns back to me, 'you need some help, and me and phil will be able to provide that whereas tommy may not be able to.'

'what can i help with?' phil's voice enters the scene as he pokes his head around the door. his eyes scan the room, almost judgementally, as he surveys me and tommy sitting on the floor and techno stood near to the door, as if giving a lecture. 'what's even going on, do i need to get tubbo?'

'it's fine, please stop.' i manage to get out, not bearing to look at anyone.

'what's fine?' techno says, 'none of this is fine, ranboo.'

'techno. stop.' tommy tries to assert dominance over him, but fails.

'stop what? stop doing what's best for him? phil deserves to know, tommy.'

'what do i need to know.'

'nothing.' they all fall silent at my voice, 'can you all just fuck off, PLEASE.' i say, finally lifting my head to face them. 'i'll explain when i'm ready, stop rushing me, techno. you weren't supposed to know anyway.'

they all turn to leave, but i grab tommy's hand, implying i wanted him to stay. he understood and sat back down.

tommy hands me my phone, 'what if you try to call him now?'

i consider it for a few moments, before taking the phone from his hand and scrolling down until i found my dad's contact. i press 'call'.

*ring ring*

i take a deep breath, prepared for the worst.

*ring ring*

i start tapping my hand on my legs as stress waves over me.

*ring ri-*

'hello. the person you are calling can't pick up the phone right now. leave a message after the tone. *beep*'

i hang up with a sigh, 'it went to voicemail.'

'maybe text him?' tommy suggests.

hey dad
i'm sorry for not calling in a while.
how are you?

'done. let me go and talk to phil quickly.'

leaving the room with tommy, panic doesn't make any hint at leaving even though i've texted him now. but he hasn't replied. and i have to make sure he's okay. so there's only one way to know if he's okay now.

'phil. i want to go and see my dad.'

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