Cigarettes in the Snow

Things are normal again.

6 AM

The sun was already up. The brown-haired boy made his way back to his house. He had looked everywhere for Ranboo. He had mixed emotions, he was conflicted on how to feel. He wanted to hate Tommy, for hurting him, but their interaction a few hours prior felt like an everyday conversation they would have. He couldn't tell if he liked that or not. He missed it, sure, but was it worth ignoring his pain? Yes. Yes, it was. He was too drained for conflict. He didn't want to fight anymore, he wanted to just give up. Give up his responsibility and go into an eternal sleep, which was just a fancy way of saying he wanted to die. But he couldn't yet. Tubbo frowned and sighed.

He stepped onto his porch. He stopped for a moment, and so did the world. He just stood there, contemplating. He didn't know what he was contemplating, but he just felt the need to stop. The sinking feeling in his chest was present, not like it had ever left, but it was a bit more noticeable now that he stopped. He let out another sigh as he creaked open the door.

"Oh, Tubbo, your back!" The tall hybrid said cheerfully as he cooked breakfast.

Tubbo just stared. He had spent all fucking night, hours of his time looking for this fucker. Only for that dickhead to be home the whole fucking time. The short boy opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

"Hey, Ranboo." Tubbo sounded done. Unbothered, uninterested, and tired as shit.

"Can you go get Micheal?"

"... Sure." Tubbo sighed.

He walked in and made his way to the ladder. When he opened the trapdoor he saw Tommy asleep, cradling Micheal in his arms.

"Hey, dickhead! Wake up."

Tommy's eyes squinted, and he blinked a few times. "... What the fuck? Where am I?" His eyes darted around the room, and he started to hyperventilate.

"Chill, you're just in my house. Ranboo's making breakfast, so get up."

Tommy realized in relief. Then he realized in disgust. He looked down at the thing in his lap. "Get this off me!" Tommy had his signature angry face. Tubbo kinda missed seeing it.

Micheal let out a small yawn.

"You're carrying him downstairs."

"What?! Why are you making me do that! You're his father!"

"And you're holding him."

Tommy sighed as he brought himself to his feet.

"Also," Tubbo's tone shifted, making Tommy a bit uneasy, "Don't bring up where Ranboo was last night, do you understand me." This was not a question, it was a demand.

"And what if I don't listen?" Tommy teased in retaliation.