Chapter Text
Tubbo stares at the van in disbelief.
“Okay….. and you're sure I haven't somehow traveled back in time?”
Ranboo chuckles next to him, “No, you haven't traveled back in time”
Tubbo nodded slowly, “So…. he made a new van…. and you… helped him?” he turned to his husband, cocking an eyebrow. Well, the only eyebrow he had.
Ranboo shuffled nervously, “Yea….. I mean I just thought-”
“Thought what?” Tubbo cut him off, “Thought he suddenly just decided to become a chef all the sudden? Terrorism days are behind him, time to start on his culinary path!”
“It's just a burger van….”
“And it was also just a hot dog van…..” He turned to look at the van that made him feel the most intense deja vu he's ever felt, stronger than the day he ordered Tommy away from his country.
He ran his hands down his face. “It’s-It’s fine. This is fine. Just- try not to interact with the guy too much? He has a way with words, makes you do whatever he wants. As long as this is all he's dragged you into…”
Ranboo suddenly looked a lot more sheepish than before.
“Don't tell me…”
“We may have…. blown up a bit of Las Nevadas….”
Tubbo paused. Breathed. Then screamed.
“You what?” Ranboo put his hands up, as if to defend himself, but Tubbo wasn't stopping, “Ranboo are you fucking kidding? What happened to keeping our heads down? We abandoned the outpost because it was too much trouble! That was your idea! We wanted to keep to ourselves! And then you go and do this?”
“It's-It's honestly not a big deal, I-” Ranboo failed to stutter out a proper rebuttal.
“Ranboo, you're putting us in danger! Quackity knows we're a package deal! Thankfully he doesn't know about Michael but what if he finds out? Then what? You're putting our son in danger, too!”
“Tubbo, please-”
“I don't understand you sometimes! It's like I'm missing something!” Tubbo huffed in frustration, “Do you not remember the last time you griefed something? The mushroom house?”
Ranboo’s meek face morphed to anger, “What? Are you gonna exile me? I don't live in your country!”
Tubbo's face turned to stone. He could see the moment it clicked in Ranboo’s head that he had fucked up.
“That's not fair” He spit out, voice quiet but firm, rage bubbling from each syllable, “And no, you don't live in my commune, you live with my murderer, so how about you fuck off back there and have tea with Mr. Minecraft, yeah?”
Ranboo took a step forward, “Tubbo, I'm s-”
“Don’t” his voice cracked, he couldn't do this, “I-I need space. Take your hypocritical ass somewhere else. Figure out your shit. Come back.” His finger trembled as he shoved it into Ranboo’s chest.
“I-”
“Because I can't deal with the secrets. I can't deal with Michael asking where you are every day. I can't deal with myself asking that. I can't deal with you coming by with flowers and a picnic and love in your eyes only to fuck off and leave for weeks again. I can't deal with that.”
A pause. Tubbo let himself breathe.
“Okay, Bo.” Ranboo stared at him for a few more seconds, and Tubbo didn't know if he loved or hated the fact that his gaze was still fond. He took his leave, but stopped for a second, “I love you” he said, not turning around. Tubbo watched his back leave his view.
“I love you, too” Tubbo had whispered that night, lying in his empty bed in an empty town.