notus

Chapter 13: my only sunshine

Chapter 13: my only sunshine

Tubbo blinks awake, and he finds Tommy sleeping next to him.

The Golden Boy snores gently, buried in the covers. The serenity of sleep is an odd contrast to his usual aggressive energy, but it's a nice fit on his face.

A bout of fondness grows in his chest. Tubbo smiles, softly - pulls the covers higher up Tommy's shoulders.

His eyes adjust to the night. He realises he's missing somebody.

The Goat Kid sits up, staring around the bedroom. The other two beds are empty, but the window is open. The wind blows against the curtains.

Tubbo clambers out the window. He grips, and climbs, and finds himself shuffling on his hands and knees to the top.

And there he is.

"Ranboo." Tubbo smiles. He sits, and brushes their shoulders together - humming softly at the back of his throat.

Ranboo doesn't respond immediately. He stares up at the stars, a deep frown pulling at his face.

"Hey, Bo?"

"Yeah?"

"Where...where are you?"

"...what?"

Ranboo turns his head. He stares at him - eyes wide, and terrified. "Where are you?" He breathes - rasps, as if he's been inhaling smoke. "I...I can't...find you, Bo. Where have you gone?"

Tubbo glances up, though he knows the answer. "Oh, Boo," he chuckles. "I'm not there."

The caw of a crow rings loud.

Ranboo wakes up.

He is alive.

He is alive.

The forest is silent - quiet, the deathly kind. There is no rumbling crackle of flames. There is no thundering growl of a storm. There is no howling wind.

There is only silence.

And him, in the wake of it.

Ranboo hisses, as every single ache of his body makes itself loudly known. His wings ruffle - the pain of his scorched feathers, once white-hot, dull to a persistent ache.

Bit by bit, The Not-Prince pulls himself out of the shelter, the gap between boulders. He gasps a breath, the bitter tang of burnt and heat wretched in his throat.

Everything is grey. The soot, the faint wafts of smoke, the air. The forest is...gone - nothing more than charred stumps, and damp crumbling leaves. As he kneels, they smudge his hands - a mark, filthy, stinging his skin.

The sun shines, morning.

And Ranboo breathes.

"It's gone." His voice tumbles, hoarse and dry. It's loud in the empty silence. Odd, and misplaced - but it's his voice, and it's alive. "It's...gone."

The fire is gone.

They did not burn.

Ranboo chokes a laugh, hissing softly against the burns of his tears. But his shoulders shake, with the tear-jerking relief that they made it. The fire had raged, a wrathful inferno, and they emerge in spite of it.

"Tubbo-" Ranboo turns, with eyes so bright. "It's-"

And he falters - stops, dragged to a screeching halt.

"...Bo." Ranboo reaches in. Gently, ever always gently, he shakes the Goat Kid's shoulders. "Bo. Tubbo."

Silence screams.