Checkmate (Dsmp Au)

Beloved

Tw: Mentions of drinking

Michael heard the door open, and stood up from his place at the wall, where he had been pinning up a new picture. The kid was now eight, and a wonderful artist. He had repainted the family portrait several times, each time making it more beautiful than it was originally.

He cautiously made his way to the trapdoor and opened it. He could hear boots stomping around the kitchen, a chair being dragged to the table, and Tubbo's sigh.

The kid climbed down the ladder and cautiously entered the kitchen. His younger dad hadn't talked directly to him in years, though Michael tried everyday to start a conversation. Ranboo had told him that the disappearance of Michael's godfather, Uncle Tommy, had taken a toll on Tubbo. Michael barely remembered the teenager, but if Tubbo was grieved, he must have been a great person.

"Dad?" Michael squeaked, eyeing the bottle of whiskey in Tubbo's hand.

Tubbo didn't answer, just put his head in his hands and groaned.

"Uhm, I made a friend today. Imaginary, of course. I drew a picture of him, wanna see?"

For the first time, his father replied.

"Michael, go repaint the family portrait or something. Can you leave me alone?"

Michael gulped, but continued. "He's kind of like you, a goat hybrid. He had a funny looking mustache, and a blue sweater."

Tubbo sighed, exasperated.

"Dad... can you please listen to me? For once? I just want you to be there."

The man turned his head, eyes boring into Michael's. "Tommy’s back."

"Uncle Tommy? Wasn't he dead?"

"Yes- no- I don't know. But he's gonna be staying with us for a while."

An awkward conversation, Michael knew. But anything to get his dad to speak. "Can I please show you the picture? I know you don't like going into my room, but I really want to show you."

After a moment of silence, Tubbo stood up. "Fine. Let's see your 'friend.'

The pigman grinned triumphantly, taking Tubbo's hand in his own and leading him to the ladder.

-

Tubbo hadn't been in his son's room in years, and was surprised to see that not much had changed. The same bed, chairs, art wall- everything was exactly how he left it, except for the portrait.

He ran his hand along the curved lines of the canvas, drinking in every detail. Michael was known to express his thoughts and feeling in everything he created. Even the saddest subject had light hidden deep in its core, and the lightest, if observed closely, radiated a darkness. In the painting, it was the latter.

Everyone smiled, painted in bright, cheerful colors, as if the tainted world had not touched them. Tubbo was in his green shirt that he used to wear, and Ranboo wore his flower-print shirt he had gotten at his honeymoon. Michael was in his signature sweater and overalls, grinning as wide as he could. But as Tubbo looked closer, in his own lap, a bottle you could barely notice lay halfway empty. Ranboo had a purple tint to his eyes, and somehow Michael had givin the illusion that he was almost full enderman.

In the child himself, a fear somehow hid behind his eyes. The painting seemed truly real, and Tubbo couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Michael approached him, holding out his drawing. Without taking his eyes off the portrait, Tubbo took the scetch into his hands. Then his gaze slowly drifted to the peice of paper.

What he saw scared the life out of him.

Before Tubbo knew it, his axe was drawn, pulling Michael behind him and scanning the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Looking for Schlatt.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he turned to his son. "Michael," he said sternly, kneeling down and putting his hands on the younger shoulders. "Did you see him anywhere else besides your room? In a photo or something?"

"N-no, nowhere. Wait... I saw someone a little like him, in a photo in the basement. But I can't really tell-"

Michael was taken aback as Tubbo wrapped him in a hug, tears streaming down the adult's face. "I am so sorry, Michael. You're such a talented kid, and so lonely. I should've given you more love. I'm sorry..."

Michael patted his father's head. "I know you love me, you just don't know how to show it. I love you, Daddy."

"Stay with me for a minute. Just a minute. I don't want this to end. You're safe, I'm safe-"

There was nothing more to say. It was only them, a discarded, unused axe near their feet. For once, Tubbo felt whole again, fixed. And he would do anything to help his son.

"I guess we owe you an explanation," Ranboo said from behind them. The pair looked up, watching as the enderman hybrid set the drawing on the bookshelf and approach Michael. He picked up the boy and sat him on his bed, then did the same with Tubbo. He pulled a stool over and guiltily glanced at his son.

"We should tell you something about our family tree," Ranboo began. "Tubbo was born to a man named JSchlatt. He was abusive, constantly drunk. He left Tubbo in a box at the side of the road, and didn't see him until the L'Manburg election. Tubbo was appointed right-hand man when Schlatt won the election, and eventually was executed for being a spy, by the forced hand of Technoblade. Schlatt died a month later from a heart attack. The person you drew... he is JSchlatt."

Michael looked at Tubbo, confused. The man only hung his head and waited for Ranboo to continue.

"So..." Michael spoke up. "My imaginary friend is the ghost of my maniac grandfather?"

"Yes."

"What should we do?" Tubbo said softly. "I don't want that monster anywhere near our Michael."

"Dad. Papa." The couple looked over at their son, who's face was serious and a little angry. "Don't do anything. Grandp- Schlatt is my problem. You aren't able to do anything, so let me deal with it, okay? If anything happens, I promise I will tell you."

Tubbo and Ranboo looked at each other, then back at the zombie pigman. "Are you absolutely sure?" Tubbo inquired, receiving a harsh nod from Michael.

"You changed, Dad. Now that I know... I want to help you more than I want to help myself. I don't want you to turn into my grandfather. So please, leave it all to me."

Tubbo hugged the boy once more, tight as if he would die if he let go. Michael sighed.

"Papa?" Ranboo looked up to find his family watching him. "Do you wanna join in?" Michael asked. Ranboo smiled, wrapping his gangly arms around them both.