Where Is Your Rider (OFFICIAL WATTPAD UPLOAD)

Chapter 19

The clouds were thinner than usual today.

Tubbo grimaced, squinting against the brighter than average light as he sat on the wing of his glider and picked at the dirt in the soles of his boots, gazing absently over at the Claw. Velvet was over there right now, supposedly doing repairs. Instead, he was mostly just pacing around the plane and occasionally flipping open a random hatch, muttering frantically to himself.

After speaking with his son, Bad had instructed everyone to wait here while he called up Corpse and told him to bring some backup. The others were behind him, cleaning weapons and patching wounds, and talking quietly in hushed voices about Manberg and Project Sunbreaker and what was yet to come.

Something big was about to go down. Tubbo could feel it.

He was worried, too; worried about Ranboo. He hoped to whatever god that still watched over this decaying world that his boyfriend wasn't dead or a vegetable.

Still mumbling anxiously to himself, Velvet adjusted a metal panel, reflecting pale light directly into Tubbo's eyes.

"Oi! Quit it!" Tubbo yelped.

Over by the Claw, Velvet whipped around like a deer in headlights. His jacket was tied around his waist—leaving him in a stained black T-shirt—and he was covered in dirt and soot, red-dyed hair filthy and matted with sweat. The bandages hastily wrapped around his left forearm were loose and smeared with oil, and several wires protruded from the broken panel.

Even though he was a mess, it was impossible not to notice his eyes.

How they'd changed.

"Sorry," Velvet blurted stiffly, quickly turning back to the broken electrical line he was fiddling with. He was clearly having difficulties, judging by the amount of swearing.

"You need help?" Tubbo asked. Maybe he could distract himself from his feeling of impending doom by helping with repairs. Now that he thought about it, that was probably why Ranboo seemed to enjoy fixing his glider so much. "I've got smaller hands."

Velvet froze, visibly tensing. "No."

"Bullshit," Tubbo retorted, hopping up and marching over.

Immediately, he saw the problem. The wires Velvet was trying to reconnect were badly frayed, and he was trying to fix them with a roll of tape that was much too small, while ignoring the correctly-sized one that was sitting in his repair kit.

"You've got the wrong roll of tape," Tubbo said.

Velvet flinched, glancing down at the wires in his burned, filthy hands, and then down at his tool kit, his face flushing with humiliation as he hastily grabbed the tape and started to fix the wiring. "Shit. Fuck, I can't fucking believe I got it wrong, I'm better than this..."

Tubbo blinked. He'd only ever heard these neurotic, self-deprecating rants from Wilbur.

"I'm fine!" Velvet snapped, and his stiff, forced smile looked more like a pained grimace. "Everything's great! I'm totally fine, I've managed this long and I'll keep fucking managing so just go sit down and rest, kid—"

His finger snagged on a loose wire, and there was a loud, crackling buzz of electricity.

Velvet jumped, swearing furiously.

"You sound like Ranboo when he's having a panic attack over his sixth cup of coffee," Tubbo said flatly.

Velvet's laugh was sharp and miserable.

"You're a fucking kid," he huffed, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm not unloading my garbage on you. Go do whatever kids do... fuck, where'd my wrench go..."