As the Crow Flies

Smoke

Ranboo lulled his exhausted body into the front entrance of the mansion. He'd gotten off work later than usual and had to trek home all alone in complete darkness. His eyes were as heavy as his feet and his limbs felt like jelly from all of the serving and cleaning he'd done through out the day. Ranboo slid out of his winter coat and was just about to toss it onto a nearby chair when a small white box fell out of one of the pockets. As he bent down to pick it up, he heard Tubbo's voice come out from the darkness.

"Since when did you start smoking?" Ranboo turned around to see Tubbo sat at the base of the grand staircase. He must've gotten home earlier than Ranboo because he was already changed into his pajamas and wrapped in a big grey blanket. Ranboo looked down at the cigarette in his mouth. He'd almost forgotten it was there.

"Wilbur, umm," Ranboo quietly stumbled for a response as he reached for the small white box of cigarettes that Wilbur had given him as 'endorsement' for his 'good work' a couple months ago. The lid had fallen open like the gapping mouth of a fish, exposing those slender white smoking sticks. Ranboo made sure to keep eye contact with Tubbo who waited patiently for a response. "If it's a problem around you I can just try to keep it a work thing." He murmured. Tubbo took a moment to look Ranboo up and down. He really must've looked as tired as he felt. Then the boy stood from his seat and came over to him. Ranboo thought he'd smack the box out of his hand and start shouting, but instead he reached up and snagged one of the sticks that was poking out and reached his hand out for the lighter. Ranboo hesitated out of pure surprise, but then quickly dug for Wilbur's lighter and handed it to Tubbo.

"Come with me." Tubbo said before spinning around and heading upstairs. Ranboo paused awkwardly by the chair, a million questions racing through his mind, but he set his coat down and went after Tubbo. Together they climbed to the highest room in the mansion, then Tubbo opened a window and climbed up on the roof, beckoning for Ranboo to follow.

Outside the night was crisp and clear. Snowchester was one of those places where you could see the entire sky and all of the stars if you managed to stay up late enough. Tonight the moon was missing. Tonight it had no intention of outshining all the stars.

Ranboo watched Tubbo climb up to the peak of the roof before finding a good spot to sit. Then Ranboo followed and found a seat next to him. Ranboo shivered. It was freezing out and he had left his coat downstairs, but Tubbo offered him a space under his big blanket. Once they were settled, Tubbo placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it in one quick flick. He handed the lighter back to Ranboo and took a nice long hit. Ranboo watched intently as Tubbo soaked in all of the smoke, holding it in for a generous amount of time before finally releasing it into the wintery air. It was almost like watching Wilbur himself. This was something he knew. But there was a difference in the way he handled the smoke. Ranboo could tell that it was something he hadn't done or thought about in a long time.

Then Tubbo noticed Ranboo staring at him and smiled.

"What? Have I grown a fifth limb or something?" He said jokingly before looking back out at the black horizon.

"I've never seen you smoke before." Ranboo said. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the sight. Tubbo glanced in Ranboo's direction for a moment and then released another stream of smoke out into the night air before replying.

"Me and Tommy used to do it all the time with Will, but everyone kind of stopped after he died." He said. It was odd how the thought had never occurred to Ranboo, even after knowing Wilbur for months. Tubbo pulled the cigarette from his lips and snickered. "You know, when Fundy was little, Will would make us sit outside on the roof just like this so that we wouldn't get him all smokey. I wanted to do the same for Michael." Tubbo brought the cigarette back up to his lips, but paused. "How is Wilbur by the way? Has he proven he's changed yet, or is he still the same ruthless conniving bastard that let me die?" Tubbo asked the question so casually, as if it were part of a joke.

"You have very little faith in him." Ranboo replied.

"Well he sent my husband home with a pack of cigarettes so you can imagine my skepticism." There was no real heat behind Tubbo's words, still, Ranboo could tell that it'd take something revolutionary for Tubbo to trust Wilbur again, if he ever did. Ranboo sucked on his own smoke and puffed it out along with his foggy breath from the cold. He contemplated the time he'd spent with Wilbur, searching for small moments in which the man had shown true compassion and regret, but most of his actions were still deadest on his competition with Quackity. Despite that, Ranboo wasn't about to give up on him so easily.

Ranboo looked back over at Tubbo. He too was lost in his own thoughts.

"Hey," He prompted. Tubbo turned to him with a questioning expression. "Are you ok? Like actually? You seemed really upset last time you talked with him." He asked. Tubbo appeared taken aback for a moment before turning his gaze to the ground.

"I honestly thought you'd forgotten about that. But yeah. I'm ok." Ranboo wasn't entirely convinced, but there wasn't much he could do. Sometimes it felt to Ranboo like Tubbo was just trying to protect himself. Like he wasn't allowed to feel hurt or pain because of everything that happened to him growing up. From the smallest thing; friendship founded through a pack of cigarettes; to the biggest thing; losing it all to explosions and fireworks. Ranboo couldn't imagine his life like that. He wasn't sure how any of them made it.

"I'm sorry." Ranboo said, and Tubbo lifted his head to face him.

"About what?" He asked. His eyes bright with curiosity. Ranboo wondered how in the world he was going to protect that brightness. He feared the day anyone should ever snuff it.

"About everything." He said. Tubbo was quiet for a moment before scoffing.

"You're so weird." He giggled and bumped Ranboo's shoulder as he said it. Ranboo couldn't keep himself from smiling as well. Then Tubbo leaned back so that he was laid flat on the slope of the roof. Ranboo copied him, letting the open star-filled sky envelop his vision.

The two of them sat out there in the cold, wrapped tightly under the big fluffy blanket, smoking the hour away. It was as if they were floating in space and nothing on earth would ever reach either of them again. Ranboo felt Tubbo's fingers link into his. No matter how bad things got. No matter how terrible their pasts were. They had each other and that would always be enough.

Being terrified about tomorrow wasn't so bad when you had someone to be terrified with.

Then, after a while, Tubbo let go. He sat up and tossed his finished cigarette off the roof, then turned to Ranboo who remained flat on his back.

"I don't want you smoking at home, but if you need to, you always have this place on the roof." Then he turned around and headed back inside, clutching his arms in the cold. Ranboo stayed in his spot under the blanket, smoking away his confusion. Was that disapproval or authorization? Would Tubbo join him again, or did all of this reminded him too much of the past? Is that why he designated Ranboo this space?

Ranboo positioned his head back so that he was looking up at the deep starry void once again. Tubbo could be so strange sometimes. He never seemed to be angry with Ranboo. All Tubbo did was care. Ranboo took a deep breath in, letting the smoke swirl to the base of his lungs before puffing it out onto the brilliant constellations before him. Then he felt a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. It was a feeling that very little people he knew experienced in their lifetimes. It was a feeling that often seemed more fiction than fact. It was a feeling that made your stomach glow orange and the bones in your body turn to bubbles.

To put it to the limited words of language, Ranboo might describe the feeling as infallible, irrefutable, utterly inimitable peace.