The Fourth Stage of Grief

4th Stage of Grief: Depression

In that calm evening, golden light illuminated through all the west facing windows of the arctic cabin. It was warm inside, a pot heating up on the stove as a tall half enderman man hunched himself over the kitchen counter, carefully chopping some pre-peeled potatoes for dinner while also trying to keep the small baby clinging to his chest from waking up. Ranboo was thankful that Michael was finally asleep, he was so fussy it was obvious he was tired, but he understood why Michael tried so hard to stay awake. Normally Tubbo comes home before Michael lays down to go to bed, but today he was running late and Michael seemed to know that.

In the other room the front door squeaked open and more sunlight fell through before the lock clicked shut, Tubbo shuffling into the warm house and shivering at the intense temperature difference. Heaving off his heavy snow-crusted coat, he wiped his muddy hooves on the dirty floor mat, sighing with relief that he's finally home. The aching muscles in his back and legs relax with that acknowledgment.

"You're back," Ranboo whispered through a smile as he peeked around the corner of the kitchen, careful not to wake Michael. Tubbo's hoofs dragged against the floor as he walked to his husband, arms loosely hanging as he butted his head against the other's shoulder, a common form of affection from him, especially when he's tired. Ranboo wrapped his free hand tightly around him to pull him close, pressing a quick peck of a kiss to the top of his head, "long day?"

"Hmmmmhummmm" Tubbo mumbled in response, continuing to press his head and face into the other for the comforting pressure. "What's for dinner? Smells good," he muffled against Ranboos white shirt, barely audible even.

"Just a stew." He tried pulling away, but that just made Tubbo whine and cling closer. "Tubbo, come on I need to finish so we can eat!" Ranboo laughed, giving Tubbo one last tight squeeze before actually pulling away. "Here, can you take Michael? It's hard to hold him and chop vegetables at the same time. Sit down on the couch and rest a bit"

Tubbo hesitated lifting his arms, but still held back enough so that Ranboo wouldn't hand him over just yet. His gaze stayed towards the floor, his long bangs obstructing the view to his anxious eyes. "Actually, um-" he stepped a small bit away, and pulled his arms back to his chest. He finally looked back to Ranboo, and just as Ranboo couldn't see anything other than Tubbo's small smile, Tubbo couldn't see anything above Ranboos waist. "It'd be best if you just took him, so he doesn't wake up. I'll finish dinner for us. You go rest, with Michael."

"Are you sure?" Ranboo asked, hiking the small piglin baby up to get a better grip on him.

"Y-yeah I'm sure," Tubbo took a step forward to the kitchen, reaching up to Ranboo and cupping his tear-scared cheek with his firework-scared hand, guiding him down to press a small kiss to his other scared cheek, "Go sit, boo, I've got it,"

"Well, alright. I'm not complaining!" Ranboo smiled, pressing his forehead against the others as to loosely match Tubbo's common form of affection, "I'll just be in the other room if you need me."

Ranboo walked to the stairs of the cabin to go put Michael down for bed, and Tubbo walked into the kitchen, grabbing his 'kiss the nuclear engineer' apron and started up where Ranboo left off, a guilty feeling weighing down on his heart.

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That day they were snowed in, large flakes falling from the deep grey skies above. It was quiet, extremely quiet, and the little amount of light outside shone brightly off the high albedo of the snowy carpet. It was mid day, and the only sounds that could be heard in Snowchester was faint music and the occasional laughter of a baby.

There was a record playing in the living room, one of the older mildly scratched disks that sounded fuzzy and skipped a bit, but it was Ranboo and Tubbos favorite. Tubbo was peacefully sat on the couch reading a book, Michael was laying on a babymat on the floor surrounded by colorful wooden blocks and a rattle in hand, and Ranboo was lying beside Michael playing with him: peekaboo, tickling, dancing to the song, and just talking in response to the baby babbles.