chapter 13: . . .Reprogramming. . .

30 3 21
                                    

TW: PTSD, corruption,
Please let me know if I missed any

Sometimes Ranboo wonders what it would be like to grow up in the city, or the country-side, or the suburbs, or a little house in the middle of nowhere. He has come to the realization that they wouldn't be them anymore. That all the things that made them them, came from here.

All the things that has made Ranboo a person, came from conscious but not awake, smoke clouding his lungs, bustling city traffic, sunlight streaming through open windows open arms. He still resents all that has happened to him, still wonders dreamy eyed at what a childhood would be like, and stares at Tommy and Tubbo as they play charades in the park, and maybe they know, maybe they know how it feels. Sunny and light, warmth seeping through his body through his soul, pouring out of his smile, boy made of light.

Maybe it's just taking the simplest things in life for granted, overlooking them, that makes people adults, and sitting here in the grass as Tommy tries to act out some random everyday item, Ranboo couldn't be more correct.

● ● ●

Yet there's no rest for the weary, and no reprive for the soldiers. For their joy is short and nothing is permanent. Young people, children even, are pushed into the cycle of constantly moving forward, and they forget to look back on how far they've come. Forced to move forward F̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶p̶e̶o̶p̶l̶e̶ F̵̦̺͕́̐͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚f̷̵̫̞̉͢ t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚p̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊

Fuck the people.

● ● ●

Ranboo leans back on his heels, when did living get so complicated? It feels like all the shit that has accumulated in their life just came crashing through their roof and right on top of them.

He hauls himself out of bed and groans. It felt like their bones were made of lead, and it didn't make sense. They were fine yesterday. He laughed and played with Tommy and Tubbo, patrolled his normal route and felt fine. So what happened?

You are okay

You are okay

Y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶k̶a̶y̶

Y̵̷̛̤͍̅́̕ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞y̯̤͑́́̓́

There's S̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ nothing wrong.

Get up.

Ranboo shook out his hands, let all the unsettling odd weird feeling leave them, and they were fine by the time they got to the bakery. It felt like things weren't real, like he was waking up from a dream. They floated throughout the Café, the normal conversation with Tommy felt so far away when he came by to get coffee. The pit had settled back in his chest, where it always has been, where it should be.

It felt wrong to be so light, like without everything weighing him down he'd float away. Leave this life because he's too light.

"Hey Ranboo?" Tommy asked, threading his fingers together, and then breaking them apart.

"Yeah?" The barista asked lightly.

"Uhm, Wi- Ghostbur wants to meet you." He rushed through the sentence like it was chasing him.

Ranboo blinked a few times. "I'll ask Niki if I can leave." He said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He knew Niki would say yes, Tommy knew Niki would say yes.

● ● ●

The hero agency was dangerous to Ranboo especially, and yet he kept going back. He doesn't know why. That's what makes it scary. He doesn't know why he kept going back. Doesn't know when he started caring for things he shouldn't care for.

Nothing about walking with Tommy felt real. Nothing should be okay, and looking at how their life has been going, why hasn't he absolutely collapsed from physical, mental, or emotional fatigue?

A guard stopped them at the gates. "IDs please."

"Hey! It's me, bitch. I work here, and am practically a hero." Tommy said, his voice rising indignantly.

"Sorry pal, we need your ID or hero license, and your friend's ID."

"But this is my pal! Also, they're someone who never carries any form of identification ever."

"Sorry, we need IDs to make sure everyone is qualified and registered in the city's files."

"Which hero son of a bitch decided this?" Tommy said, stepping back from the guard.

"The government." The guard said with stale disinterest.

"Wait- the government?"

"Yeah, the government, who do you think gives you orders?"

"The top heros."

"And who gives them instructions? The government." The guard said matter of factly. "Punz by the way, pleasure meeting you." He held out a hand, which Tommy shook warily.

"Pleasure." The young hero repeated, almost angry.

"So, IDs?"

"Oh, yeah." Tommy fished out his ID and flashed it at the guard.

"I um- don't have my ID. But you could probably run my name."

"Sure, what is it?" Punz asked with a smile.

"Ranboo."

"Last name?"

"Just, Ranboo?"

Punz laughed and tapped into the device, his face falling a fraction before he pulled it back up and let them through.

"Fucking government, last time they cared about us was the 16th of Never-ary." Tommy groused as they stepped into the SBI building.

"Hey, did you see that security guard's face? It looked either fearful or disappointed."

"Honestly, I was hoping that was just my imagination." Ranboo said, staring at the reflective floor, a warped image of himself staring back.

"Probably disappointed that you got away with no last name." The blond joked, playfully jabbing them in the side.

Ranboo forced his voice light. "Probably."

______________________________

Oops, did I actually make things work?

Man

Nope, high chance it'll all come crashing down again.

Anyway! Hope you are all alright.

Have a great day/night my friends! 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

A Guide For The Outsiders Where stories live. Discover now