Chapter Text
RANBOO
Ranboo died on a relatively ordinary Saturday evening in early November. A few days after his seventeenth birthday, actually. There was something poetic about that.
Tommy had enthusiastically invited them over to see a demonstration of his adoptive dad’s latest invention. Apparently, Phil had made a new breakthrough in his chosen field, which was ghost science, for some ungodly reason. Had Ranboo known that seeing this new technology would involve sitting in a plastic folding chair while listening to Phil ramble about his thought process, they probably wouldn’t have agreed to come.
Actually, yes, he would. Tommy would have been devastated if he didn’t. He was one of Ranboo’s only friends, after all. Besides, it beat sitting in his tiny one-bedroom student apartment, procrastinating homework.
Absently, he wondered if his parents knew what they were getting him into when they sent him away to Essempy Park for high school.
In front of Ranboo sat the strangest machine they had ever laid eyes on. It was an octagonal tunnel at least ten feet high and running twice that far into the wall of the basement lab. A tangled mess of cables and wiring ran along the inside of the machine and spilled out into the main lab. Something was sparking. Ranboo wasn’t sure what to make of that.
They shifted awkwardly in their plastic folding chair. Their limbs were too long and lanky for any position to be entirely comfortable.
Tubbo snickered from the seat next to him. “Comfortable, boss man?”
“No,” Ranboo grumbled.
“This is your own fault for being so fucking tall.”
“At least I can reach the top shelf.”
“Fuck you.”
Tubbo wasn’t all that short, really. He was just under average height, stocky, built like a tank. Ranboo was the one that was tall enough to bonk his head on doorways.
Tubbo ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “What d’you think of the new machine? Is it gonna work?”
“No idea,” Ranboo answered honestly.
“Course it is, mate,” Phil chimed in from the other side of the machine. His blue eyes sparkled. “I spent way too long working on it for it to fail on me now.”
Something popped. Another shower of sparks cascaded down the inside of the machine.
Tubbo laughed. “Your calculations are good, sure, but a ghost portal? Not much math supporting you there.”
“Doubting the almighty Philza Minecraft’s knowledge, Tubbo?” Wilbur drawled from where he stood by the stairs, brown curls falling over his round glasses. “Trust me, more math has gone into this thing than I thought existed.”
“I did have to come up with a lot of the math myself,” Phil admitted. “Tubbo’s right about there not being much math about ghosts.”
Tubbo grinned vindictively. “Ha! I knew it!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Phil waved a black-gloved hand dismissively. “Pass me that jar there, Will. Where are the others?”
Wilbur handed him a jar full of toxic green slime. “Upstairs, I presume.”
Phil sighed and glanced at the stairwell. “Oi! Techno! Tommy! Hurry up!”
Wilbur rolled his eyes, dropping into the seat beside Ranboo. “You know full well they can’t hear you. Give them a minute. I’m pretty sure Techno only woke up, like, half an hour ago, and Tommy is Tommy.”
“If he was here,” Tubbo said, “he would cuss you out for that.”
Phil chuckled, turning back to his machine.
Ranboo glanced around the lab. It was always off-limits when he and Tubbo came to visit, and it was easy to see why. Haphazard stacks of boxes and machinery lined the walls. Scattered amongst them were many more jars of mysterious green slime. The only spot clear of mess was a small desk next to the machine, which held stacks of blueprints and a small but mighty laptop.
There were also a concerning number of gadgets that looked far too close to guns for Ranboo’s taste. They elected to ignore those.
The machine let out another shower of sparks. Phil gave a delighted whoop.
“I don’t know, Tommy,” came a gruff voice from the stairs. “Maybe you should ask the genius who built the thing.”
The voice that followed was higher and much more annoying. “No, but hear me out: ectoplasm powers the portal. Ectoplasm comes from ghosts. We’ve never seen a ghost. How the fuck do we get the ectoplasm for the portal?”
Techno strode into the lab, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. His wire-rim reading glasses hung from the collar of his fencing team T-shirt, long pink hair pulled back in a series of Viking-style braids. Tommy trailed behind him, all bright blue eyes and wild blonde curls.
“It makes no fucking sense!” Tommy insisted.
Techno slumped in the chair next to Wilbur. “Phil, please answer the question before he asks it again.”
“Ambient ectoplasm, Tommy,” Phil explained. “Essempy Park is full of it. That's why we moved here.”
“I have no idea what the fuck that is,” Tommy complained.
“Lots and lots of science and math. Hand these out.” He pressed a box into Tommy’s hands.
If Tommy was known for using his brain, he may have realized that throwing things in a lab full of possibly deadly tech was probably a bad idea. Alas, he was Tommy, so Ranboo ended up getting a pair of goggles directly to the nose.
Ranboo gave Tommy an unimpressed glare. “Ow.”
Tommy cackled. “Try catching them next time, Ranboob.”
“I wouldn’t have had to catch them if you didn’t throw them at me.”
“Tommy, stop being a dick,” Phil chided.
“Yeah, Tommy,” Tubbo mocked, “stop being a dick.”
Tommy, maturely, stuck his tongue out.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Phil herded Tommy towards the chair beside Tubbo. “Goggles down, boys. Will, grab an ectogun from the shelf in case a ghost comes through when it opens.”
“If it opens, you mean,” Techno grumbled.
“Thank you for your optimism, Techno. Everyone ready?”
The group nodded the affirmative.
“Awesome.” Phil grinned. “Scientific breakthrough in three, two, one…”
He flipped a switch on the wall beside the machine.
Absolutely nothing happened.
Phil frowned. “Shit. Come on, this should be working.”
He flicked the switch a few more times. Still nothing.
Ranboo glanced at the other spectators. Tubbo seemed relaxed and unsurprised. Tommy and Wilbur were different shades of disappointed. Techno, oddly enough, looked pleased.
Phil frowned at his blueprints. “I’ll give it another once-over. Must have missed something. Gimme a minute.”
“Take your time, Mr. Minecraft,” Tubbo said, giving a mocking salute.
Tommy copied him. “You got it, Mr. Minecraft.”
“Shut up, both of you,” Phil ordered lightheartedly.
Tubbo and Tommy snickered.
“Well, this is just terrible,” Techno muttered.
Wilbur sighed. “I’m sure he’ll get it in a second.”
Techno rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, definitely. Just give the giant machine a kick, and ta-dah, portal to the dimension of the undead, which definitely exists.”
Ranboo internally cringed at the tone.
“Hey, Tubbo,” Phil called from inside the machine, “come help me with this.”
Wilbur shook his head as Tubbo scampered over. “Too far, Techno. You can’t expect things like this to work on, what, the second try? Third?”
Techno huffed. “Forgive me for doubting the vast knowledge of the great and powerful Philza Minecraft. I’m sure he has excellent reasons for the amount of time he spends tinkering with this thing.”
The brothers stared at each other for a moment, an entire conversation passing between their eyes.
“It’s for science, Techno,” Phil said, leading Tubbo out of the machine. “Imagine if the ghosts decided they didn’t want to stay where they were. What would we do if they attacked us? How would we defend ourselves if we knew nothing about them?”
Techno huffed. “Yeah, because that’s totally what this is all about.”
Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an intruder on a family matter.
“We can talk more about this later,” Phil decided. “All good on your end, Tubbo?”
Tubbo nodded. “Nothing out of place, as far as I can tell.”
“Great. Take two, everyone. Goggles on, and three, two, one…”
This time, there was a shower of sparks, a thrum of electricity, and then… nothing.
Phil cursed. “Must have miscalculated something. Gimme another minute, I’ll try again.”
He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a notebook from his stack of blueprints, muttering under his breath.
“Maybe we should call it for today,” Wilbur suggested gently, walking over and resting a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Surely you can sleep on it and come back tomorrow.”
Phil hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily. “Yeah, sure, alright. Tommy, can you, Ranboo, and Tubbo put the chairs away for me? I’m gonna go upstairs and order some ramen.”
Tommy saluted. “Sure thing, big man.”
“Remember, no touch-”
“Don’t touch your shit, yeah, we know. We’ll be up in a sec.”
Phil gave him a suspicious look before nodding and herding Techno and Wilbur out of the lab.
“Take too long and I order for you,” Techno called over his shoulder.
Tommy made a face at his retreating back.
The instant the lab doors slid closed, Tommy’s expression turned mischievous.
“You deal with the chairs, Ranboob,” he ordered. “Tubbo, get your shit. I’ll get the suits.”
Ranboo frowned. “Suits? What for?”
“We’re gonna have a look inside it,” Tubbo declared, digging through a pile of boxes.
Ranboo leaned the folding chairs against the wall by the desk. “Didn’t Phil say not to touch anything?”
“Phil doesn’t have to know,” Tommy said. “Besides, Tubbo and I agreed this morning that if it didn’t work, we’d have a look inside and see if we could fix it. Surprise him.”
Tubbo gave a triumphant shout and held up a box full of tools.
“Here you go, big man.” Tommy tossed Ranboo a black and white bundle of fabric.
Ranboo unfolded it, frowning. “What’s this supposed to be?”
“A jumpsuit,” Tommy said, handing Tubbo a green one and fishing out a red one for himself. “It’s like a cross between a hazmat suit and that shit superheroes wear.”
“Will it even fit me?”
“‘Course it will! I asked Phil to make one specifically for you. Told him you were interested in hunting ghosts and he got right to it.”
Ranboo rolled his eyes, tugging the suit on over his clothes. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’m the biggest ghost hunting fan there is.”
“You sure are, boss man.” Tubbo patted him on the back. “C’mon. We’ve got science shit to do.”
The suit was much more comfortable than Ranboo expected. The material was thin but protective, fitted but loose enough to allow a full range of motion. It fit perfectly, too, which was a testament to Phil’s dedication to his craft. It was even split half black and half white to match the mask Ranboo wore at school, with the gloves and boots being inverted.
Ranboo chuckled. At least it was on brand.
“Should I put the goggles back on?” They asked.
Tommy waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. Those were just in case a ghost came through. Phil was worried it’d try to fuckin’ gouge our eyes out or something.”
That sentence was far too casual for Ranboo’s liking. “Aren’t we opening it now? Couldn’t a ghost still come through and do some good ol’ eye-gouging?”
Tommy shrugged. “Probably not.”
Tubbo rolled his eyes. “We’re not actually gonna open it, boss man. Just look around and fix anything out of place. Relax.” He reached up to pat Ranboo’s shoulder. “Besides, if it opens while we’re in there, our eyes being gouged out will be the least of our worries!”
Ranboo gave him an unimpressed look. “You do realize this is a portal to the dimension of the undead, not some science fair project, right?”
Tubbo laughed. “We’ll be fine, boss man.”
Tommy hefted a large metal cylinder almost the same height as Tubbo over his shoulder. “But if anything does come through, we’ll have the Tomzooka to help us out, designed by yours truly.”
Tubbo gaped at him. “You made a gun? That is so not fair. I want a gun. That’s a shit name, though.”
“Excuse you, Bee Boy, the name is perfect, and this is not just any gun. This, my friends, is a ghost gun! Harmless to people, deadly to ghosts. Phil helped me make it.”
He cradled the Tomzooka like it was his first-born child. It took all of Ranboo’s effort not to laugh.
Tubbo cocked his head. “D’you think Phil would help me make one, too?”
“A hundred percent, man. Just tell him you’re interested in protecting yourself from ghosts. He’ll get right on it.”
Tubbo’s eyes glittered with many dangerous possibilities.
“Remind me not to come within ten feet of you ever again,” Ranboo said.
Tommy set the Tomzooka next to the machine within easy grabbing distance. “You boys ready?”
Tubbo shook his box of tools. “Got all my shit.”
Ranboo nodded tentatively.
Tommy grinned. “Into the machine we go!”
The inside of the machine was much more intimidating than the outside. The fluorescent light from the lab barely reached more than a few feet in. Ranboo could only see what little was illuminated by the beam of Tubbo’s flashlight and the various tiny running lights on the walls. In the shadows, the masses of cables looked like the bodies of millions of snakes, ready to drop onto Ranboo’s head and unleash several million volts of electricity into his brain. The air was crisp and smelled of ozone.
Ranboo gulped. Unease settled heavy and solid in his gut. Something was very, very wrong here.
Tubbo and Tommy were unmoved by Ranboo’s concern. They strolled along confidently, poking at cables and metal plates.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Tubbo knew what he was doing, and Tommy may be reckless, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Everything would be fine.
Right?
There was a pop and a shower of sparks.
“Don’t touch that,” Tubbo said.
Great. That was reassuring.
“How did Phil even build this?” Ranboo asked to keep their mind off things. “It looks like something out of a movie.”
“He’s been working on it for years, apparently,” Tommy said. “Made a smaller prototype a while back. That one zapped a kid in the face. They were fine eventually, but it must have spooked Phil pretty bad because he only decided to try again recently. Said something about it working for a few seconds before the kid got zapped and the smaller size being more volatile or some shit like that.”
Tubbo whistled. “Damn. Any clue who the kid was?”
“No idea. It was before I got here. Phil said they were twelve-ish when it happened, so they’d be Techno’s age now. Unless they got, like, super-cancer or something. I don’t know what the side effects of getting zapped with a ghost portal are.”
Ranboo raised an eyebrow. “So you’re aware that what we’re doing is dangerous, then?”
Tommy grinned. “Only if we knock something, which we won’t.”
There was another shower of sparks.
“You knocked something,” Tubbo scolded.
“Fuck off, Bee Boy.”
“Thanks,” Ranboo drawled. “You guys are making me feel real safe in here.”
A few feet down the machine, there was a small control panel set into the opposite wall. Ranboo frowned and wandered over to it.
The panel was a fairly simple one. There was only a switch, a green ON light, and a red OFF light. Someone, probably Phil, had flicked the switch to ON, but the OFF button was lit up instead.
Ranboo glanced back at Tubbo. “Is it supposed to be like this?”
Tubbo came up beside him, squinting at the lights. “What’s up with that?”
“It, uh, it's switched on, but OFF light is lit up. Could that be why it doesn’t work?”
“Probably just a wiring issue with the lights.” He turned back to Tommy. “Anything funky back there?”
“All good, as far as I can see,” Tommy replied.
Tubbo hummed. He jabbed his thumb against the switch, turning it to OFF, and headed back over to Tommy. Ranboo followed.
Behind them, the ON light flickered to life.
“Oh, that did something,” Tommy noticed. “What did you do?”
Tubbo waved a hand at the switch. “Turned it off. Didn’t want it coming on while we’re in here.”
“Ah, good call. Anyway, when you did that, this little light came on here. See?”
Ranboo tuned out their discussion. Something in the machine felt… off. Different, somehow. There was a spark in the air, a buzzing, a pressure that wasn’t there before.
Something clicked. Tubbo and Tommy exchanged confused glances.
The buzzing grew to a roar.
Ranboo didn’t think. He grabbed Tommy and Tubbo by their shoulders and shoved them out of the machine. They yelped, landing harshly on the lab floor, but he didn’t have the mind to care.
To the world, it was a few seconds. To Ranboo, it was an eternity.
The portal crackled to life. Millions of volts cascaded through the walls, through his hand against the metal, through his skin and blood and brain. Every muscle in his body tensed rapidly, pulling him in a thousand different directions, white-hot with pain. His skull was ready to burst. Needles stabbed at his nerves. His bones cracked. His blood bubbled and boiled. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
They screamed. It was involuntary and forceful, torn from ragged lungs, cut off just as abruptly as it had begun. It stole the last of their breath, leaving their chest to constrict around nothing. Their pulse fluttered weakly in their ears.
They were frozen. Burning. Numb. In agony.
Something pulsed in his chest. A burst of cold spread through his crackling nerves. It was relief, just for a moment, just a fraction of a second of something other than burning pain. As soon as it arrived, it was gone again.
Except it wasn’t. They could still feel it coiled up in their chest, buried and muted. It purred and hissed and screamed at them, whispering promises of relief, of an end, of something more. They just had to hold it.
He dug through the pain, clawing at his chest, grasping desperately for the comfort of the cold. Another pulse of frost raced through his body. Again, it withdrew back into his chest, and again he reached for it. It was easier to find this time, thrumming somewhere right beside his heart.
There was a tugging from the center of their being. It was strange, unnatural, but they were in pain and desperate for relief, so they pulled and stretched and clawed at it until it snapped and exploded outwards. Biting cold washed through their whole body. The ice encompassed them, welcomed them, and they embraced it readily.
With the cold came a new power, a deep-seated strength that ran through his veins. Suddenly, he was weightless, beyond gravity, beyond any connections to the world.
For the briefest second, he could think. Could see the roiling green space that surrounded him. Could see the floor at his feet and the wall against his hand. The space around him pulsed and wavered, swirling from a gateway before him, an exit.
They took a step towards it.
The pain was back, the electricity seizing their limbs, locking them in place. They nearly cried out, but there was no more breath in their lungs to do so.
There was another thrum from that cold place beside his heart.
His Core. That was his Core.
His Core would help him. It would protect him. It had to. It had made him.
It pulsed again, carrying with it a new wave of strength and a promise to get them out. They reached inwards, grabbed it, and pulled it forward with everything they had.
TOMMY
On the other side of the portal, Tommy didn’t know what to do.
What could he do, really? One minute the three of them were casually poking around a new invention, and the next he and Tubbo were on the lab floor while Ranboo screamed from inside.
Tubbo cradled his shoulder as he got up, staring at the portal with wide eyes.
Ranboo was inside of that.
The scream was a few seconds at most, but it was sharp and ear-piercing and filled with pain and torment. It rattled around Tommy’s skull. He flinched, covering his ears. It did little to block the sound.
Ranboo made that noise. Ranboo was the source of the smell of burning flesh. Ranboo was in there, trapped, in so much pain that all they could do was scream.
What the fuck was Tommy supposed to do?
The scream’s abrupt, strangled cut-off jolted Tommy to action. His ankle flared with pain as he stood, but he ignored it.
“Unplug it, Tubbo!” He yelled.
Tubbo didn’t move from where he was gaping at the portal.
“Tubbo, come on!” Tommy shook him by the shoulder. “We have to do something! Is there another off button somewhere?”
Tubbo’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. “It’s… it’s self-sustaining…”
“What?”
“It won’t- we can’t just- Phil said he made it so once it was on, it would stay on, even if the power went out.”
Tommy’s heart raced. “Surely he heard the- the scream, right?” His voice broke. “They must be on their way down right now. We can get him out! There’s still time!”
Tubbo shook his head. “The lab’s soundproof, Tommy. They wouldn’t have heard anything. It’s too late.”
“But- we have to get Phil. He’ll know what to do, he… he can help us. He always helps us.” The words felt flimsy even to his own ears.
In that moment, standing in front of the portal, they were just kids again. Kids who had messed up so badly they had no idea how to fix it, no idea if they even could.
The portal was a swirling void of electric greens. There was nothing beyond it, as far as they could see, just ever-moving emerald blobs. It was a technological marvel, as beautiful and powerful as any god or deity, and it was the most terrifying thing Tommy had ever seen.
A blue-white light flashed from somewhere beyond the portal’s entrance.
Tommy’s grip on Tubbo’s arm tightened. “Holy shit. Tubbo, back up.”
The light flashed again, brighter this time. Closer.
“Tubbo, get back!”
One more flash, so bright it was blinding, then a swirl of purple, and silence.
Crumpled in front of them was a human-shaped creature, smoking, twitching, spasming on the floor. It was hunched in on itself, but clearly taller than both Tubbo and Tommy. Two small horns poked out from its black and white split hair. Its hands were clawed and leathery. Sparks of red and green ectoenergy crackled over its body.
A ghost.
Fuck.
Tubbo gasped. “Tommy, what the fuck is that?”
“Get back,” Tommy ordered. “You don’t know what it could do to you.”
The creature made a strangled coughing sound and clutched at its chest. Sharp teeth cut into its lips. Its eyes were screwed shut. It wore a black and white jumpsuit like Ran- like his. Like it knew what had just happened, that what Tommy wanted most in the world was for his friend to be okay.
Tommy clenched his jaw. How dare this- this thing try to mimic his best friend? How dare it wear Ranboo’s colours to garner sympathy?
Fuck that. Fuck everything about it.
Tommy snatched his Tomzooka from where it sat nearby, pointing it at the creature as steadily as his trembling hands would allow.
“H-hey, ghost.” He tried to sound forceful. He didn’t quite manage it. “What, what do you- if you don’t, I’ll…” He swallowed. “Why are you here, and what the fuck did you do with Ranboo?”
The ghost coughed again.
Tommy gritted his teeth. “This gun was designed to kill ghosts. If you don’t tell us where they are, I’ll shoot.”
The ghost’s eyes fluttered open. They were mismatched red and green, pupils long and sharp. They widened in fear when it saw the gun pointed at its head.
Tommy steeled himself. Ghosts were evil. They were mimics, not people. They didn’t have actual feelings. This thing wasn’t scared. It couldn’t be.
But why did those eyes look so damn familiar?
The ghost made another strangled sound, limbs twitching and spasming with shocks as it tried to scramble backwards away from the Tomzooka. One of its arms passed through the floor as if it simply wasn’t there. The ghost made a series of panicked rasping sounds as it yanked its arm out of the ground.
There was an odd echo in the ghost’s voice. It was staticky, like it was trying to speak from a distant radio channel. One of the rasping noises sounded very close to the word guys. The ghost’s tone was pleading.
It was just pretending for sympathy, Tommy knew, but he still found it unnerving. He kept his Tomzooka trained on the ghost. With a whirr, ectoenergy built in the barrel.
Tubbo shoved the gun upwards just as it discharged. The shot burned a black circle into the lab ceiling.
“Tommy, wait!” Tubbo shouted. “Just- just wait a second, alright?”
Tommy aimed the Tomzooka at the ghost again. Tubbo jumped in front of it.
“This isn’t the time, Tubbo,” Tommy hissed through gritted teeth. “Ghosts are slippery fuckers. We have to get this one before it gets away! Do you know what this bitch could do if it got loose in town? It could kill someone! Multiple someones! Have you listened to anything Phil said?”
He tried to step around Tubbo. Tubbo didn’t let him.
“Shut the fuck up, Tommy!” Tubbo snapped. “Look at him for a minute! Do you really think that thing has the energy to hurt anyone?”
“It’s just mimicking you. It’s not actually hurt or scared. It wants you to sympathize with it. Get out of the way!”
“No! I know what I’m doing. Give me two minutes to talk to him, okay? If that doesn’t work, then you can shoot him. Just let me try.”
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Tommy groaned. “Fuck. Fine. But if I think anything is gonna go sideways, I shoot. I already lost one friend-” His voice broke. “It’s wearing his colours, Tubbo.”
Tubbo’s expression softened. “I know. I just- I wanna ask.”
Tommy nodded. “Okay.”
The ghost watched warily as Tubbo approached.
“Hey,” Tubbo said gently, kneeling in front of it. “It’s okay. He’s not gonna shoot, I promise.”
The ghost gestured between its throat and the portal. Toxic green tears welled in its eyes.
“Our friend was in there,” Tubbo said. His voice was rough. “Ranboo. They- you’re wearing the same jumpsuit. Do you, uh, do you know what- what happened to them?”
The ghost tapped its chest, nodding frantically. “I- ‘e, Tub-” The rest of the sentence died in its throat. Tears of frustration dripped down its cheeks.
Tubbo’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, Ranboo. Fuck- Tommy, drop the gun. Now.”
Tommy stood frozen, arms locked with the Tomzooka pointed at the ghost’s face. Was it- that wasn’t- could it be-?
“Drop it!” Tubbo ordered.
The metal hit the ground with a clang, too loud in the heavy silence of the lab.
“Ranboo?” Tommy whispered, a rebellious glimmer of hope creeping into his voice.
The ghost nodded once more. “H-hey, Tommy.”
Tommy crumpled to his knees.
This wasn’t Ranboo. It couldn’t be. It was just an elaborate trick, a lie, a trap by a vengeful ghost. Any second now, it would attack.
But it didn’t. It didn’t lunge as Tubbo rested a hand on its shoulder. There were no blasts of energy as Tommy crawled closer. No snarling or mauling as he pulled his friend in and held on as tightly as he could.
Ranboo was ice cold to the touch. His hair floated around his head like he was underwater. His limbs twitched with aftershocks of electricity.
Tommy didn’t care, and neither, it seemed, did Tubbo. They hugged him close, fingers twisted in the black and white of his jumpsuit.
Tommy waited to wake up. He waited for his alarm to go off, to pull him from this horrible dream, to open his eyes and be back to this morning.
But he didn’t. This was reality. This was real.
He blew out a shaky breath. “Fuck, Ranboo, you’re… you’re actually-”
Ranboo shook their head, clutching him tighter.
Then, suddenly, a tingling cold passed over him, and he and Tubbo fell right through Ranboo like he wasn’t there at all. Tommy immediately leapt to his feet, stumbling as his injured ankle rolled painfully.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Ranboo broke it with a staticky, echoing sob. “No. No, this isn’t- this isn’t happening.”
Their form flickered in and out of visibility.
“Did you just- was that intangibility?” Tubbo’s voice shook. “Phil said ghosts can do that but… I didn’t think-”
“It wasn’t- I’m not.” Ranboo ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not a ghost. I’m not dead.”
Tubbo placed a hesitant hand on their shoulder. Thankfully, it didn’t pass through this time. “Hey, hey, you’re alright. We’ll figure this out, boss man, we’ll- we can… I don’t know what we can do, but we’ll figure this out together, okay?”
“Figure this out?” Tommy spluttered. “What is there to figure out? He’s a ghost! He’s fuckin’ dead! How the fuck do we fix that?”
Tubbo’s hand slipped through Ranboo’s shoulder. Ranboo whimpered.
“We just will, Tommy,” Tubbo insisted.
Tommy scoffed. “They’re dead, Tubbo! You can’t fix that! They died and they're a ghost and there’s probably a b-” His voice broke. “He’s dead. That’s his ghost. He- his body… his fucking body is still in there. We have to get Phil. This… this is so fucked up.”
Ranboo’s hands clenched into fists in their hair.
Tubbo shook his head. “We can’t- we can’t get Phil, he’d… he’d kill- he’d shoot Ranboo. You know what he thinks about ghosts.”
Ripples of red and green energy rolled over Ranboo’s fingers.
Tommy glanced at the entrance to the lab. “They’re gonna wonder what’s taking so long… What do we do? How are we even supposed to get the body?”
Tubbo bit his lip. “What if we just… left it? A portal opened on it. Maybe it’s just… in there. Then we don’t- we can leave it, right?” He glanced at the portal. “We can’t- we can’t go in there. We don’t have anywhere else to put it. Maybe this is the best option.”
The air in the lab grew frosty.
Tommy shook his head. “Phil will find it once he starts his expeditions. Fuck- what the fuck do we do with a body?”
Ranboo yelled, rushing to his feet. A shockwave of red and green pushed Tubbo and Tommy away from him.
“There is no body!” Ranboo snapped. “I’m not dead! I’m not. I’m right here, aren’t I? I’m not dead. There’s no body because I’m not dead and I’m not a ghost.”
Their words echoed, distorted and staticky, in Tommy’s skull. He winced and rubbed his hands over his ears.
“Ranboo…” Tubbo began.
“I’m not a ghost,” Ranboo insisted. They curled in on themself, their feet drifting a few inches above the floor. They didn’t seem to notice. “I’m- I don’t want this. I’m not a ghost. I’m not! I’m a human!”
A blinding blue-white ring of light sparked to life around his stomach. The ring split in two, travelling over his body. The jumpsuit vanished, leaving him in his jeans and T-shirt, looking miraculously like his living self.
He dropped back to the floor, breathing harshly. It was only then that Tommy realized Ranboo hadn’t been breathing before.
Fuck. Ranboo hadn’t been breathing.
Tubbo took a tentative step forward. “Ranboo? Ranboo, what the fuck?”
Ranboo stared at their arms. They looked just as shocked as Tommy felt.
Tommy swallowed. “Ranboo, seriously, what the fuck was that? How did you-?”
Ranboo’s laugh verged on hysterical. “See? I’m human! No problem! I’m, uh, I’m gonna go home now. Thanks for having me.” He smiled, though it came off more like a grimace.
Tommy and Tubbo exchanged a look.
“Ranboo, no,” Tubbo said. “You’re not- we need to figure this out. You can’t just go home! You’re not…”
“You’re not human, Ranboo,” Tommy finished. “Look, I don’t- I have no idea what the fuck just happened, but, Ranboo, you aren’t- this isn’t something you can just fucking brush off!”
Ranboo’s eyes flashed red and green. Tommy flinched.
“I’m right here, aren’t I?” Ranboo spread his arms. “Flesh and, and bones, and breathing, and… I’m going home. That was just- just a hallucination. There’s probably a gas leak in here. You should, uh, should really get Phil to look at it. Anyway, I’m gonna… I’m heading out. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”
Tubbo stepped in front of them. “Ranboo, wait-”
Ranboo walked right through him. They froze for a moment, eyes welling with tears, but they blinked them away and kept going.
Tubbo turned around. “Ranboo, please, we’re worried about you. We just want to know what’s happening.”
“Nothing is happening, Tubbo,” Ranboo bit out. “There was a minor accident and you- we got a little shaken up, that’s it. Just… get some rest, and I- it’ll be fine. Everything’s totally… fine…”
He stumbled, eyelids fluttering, and collapsed to the ground.
Tommy rushed over. Hesitantly, he placed his fingers against Ranboo’s neck.
Ranboo’s skin was warm. A faint pulse thrummed beneath it. Slow, yes, but there.
“Fuck, he’s bleeding,” Tubbo muttered, hands hovering over the bite marks on Ranboo’s lips. “I can’t- this is too much. We need Phil. Will he- I mean, they look human enough, right? Phil won’t… hurt them?”
They exchanged conflicted glances.
“They have a pulse,” Tommy said. “Hopefully that should… be enough to convince him.”
Tubbo nodded. “I’ll get him. You, uh, you stay here, okay? Make sure they stay… corporeal.”
Tommy didn’t respond, watching Tubbo’s back as he raced up the stairs and out of the lab.