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Ranboo really didn’t want to acknowledge how much he wanted to cry right now. He knew experimenting with the enderwalk wasn’t going to be easy. He had to find what triggered it and when and why and all five of the W’s so he could avoid it or control it or whatever he needed to do with it. All he knew was that it really made his life suck. Not knowing what you did for half of your life and knowing it was most likely harming others was terrifying. It made the threat of the fourth book loom heavier in his mind. It made his chest tighten and breathing hurt, and that’s the last thing he needed right now. Because right now Ranboo could barely see.
His hands fumbled with the door handle to Techno’s basement, numb from cold and stiff from burns. He’d messed up bad this time. He’d been messing with potions, because something there seemed to be working, but it had blown up in his face. Literally. Gunpowder was not a stable substance. Applying it to potions was a process that required steady hands and precision. Ranboo was about as graceful as a newborn giraffe. Maybe he should have expected failure, but this was so much worse than any failure he could have imagined. The potions he’d been working with exploded when he added the gunpowder to them, leaving him the bumbling, blind, aching mess he was now. The really stupid part was why he was at Techno’s in the first place: he’d run out of bandages. So when the mostly-water substance burst and splashed on his face, his hands, his arms, and his eyes, he had nothing to take care of the burns.
He stumbled into Techno’s basement, squinting in an attempt to see the rows of chests rather than blobs of color. He pulled the door shut behind him, wincing at the slam. He felt his way along the wall, holding back a gasp that came with rubbing burnt fingers along stone. He fell to the ground in front of the first chest, hurting his knees and hissing from the pain. It took every bit of his willpower to not let the tears that had been building flow. His face was already scarred, it didn’t need more streaks from tears. He felt for the latch on the chest, sighed in relief once he found it, and lifted the lid.
Suddenly, he realized how futile this search was. He could barely tell the things in this chest apart. He didn’t know where Techno kept his medical supplies. He didn’t know anything at all. He didn’t know how to control the enderwalk or why it happened. He didn’t know how to stop hurting the people he cared about. He didn’t know what would send him tipping over the edge next. He didn’t know if when that happened, he’d do something he really couldn’t take back.
With a sharp inhale, Ranboo fell back. He tangled his searing fingers in his hair and closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this. Everything was too much. His chest ached with each breath he wasn’t taking. His head was foggy and he couldn’t focus. It didn’t feel like he was in Techno’s house at all. It felt like he was nowhere. He felt alone and lost, like he would float alone in the void forever.
Lucky for him, he forgot people lived in this house.
It was probably the lightheadedness and the not being able to breathe, but Ranboo didn’t hear when someone climbed down the ladder to the basement. He didn’t hear it when they tried to talk to him, either. What he did notice was a hand coming down on his shoulder, making him jump and look up, wincing as his burned hands scratched against the floor. He recognized the colors more than the face.
“Phil…?” Ranboo asked, cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded.
“Yeah, mate, it’s me,” Phil answered. Ranboo reached towards him and sighed when a hand took his, relishing the relief more than wallowing in the sting. He felt Phil carefully inspect his hand when he said, “Christ, Ranboo, what happened?”
“Uh, I-” Ranboo stammered, grasping for a white lie and shoving aside his urge to tell the complete truth, “-potions, I was making potions and-and the gunpowder, uh-”
“It’s alright, I get it. Gunpowder can be tricky,” Phil stopped him softly. His hand left Ranboo’s and he suppressed the urge to whine. The feeling was washed away completely when he felt fingers gently brush his cheeks, tilting his head and checking his injuries. Phil asked, “Did any glass get you or was it just water?”
“I-I don’t know. Phil, I-” Ranboo swallowed, shaking hands closing to fists in the air, “I can’t see.”
He felt the tension in the room spike. He had the dreadful feeling that he’d amplified Phil’s worry tenfold. Phil’s hands dropped from his face and moved to quickly checking over his arms instead, carefully pulling back his sleeves, mumbling apologies when Ranboo flinched from the rubbing fabric.
“Phil, did you find-” Techno’s voice came to a sharp stop. Ranboo could just see his red and pink shape by the ladder over Phil’s shoulder, could just see him tense up and move a hand to his sword. “What’s happening? I swear, if those Egg guys are here-”
“It’s-” Phil stopped himself, moving to examine Ranboo’s other arm. “Well, it’s not fine, but we’re not under attack. It’s just… a rather bad accident.”
“Potions, water, gunpowder,” Ranboo blurted nervously, “not a good combination for me.”
“I’ll get what we need to patch you up, okay?” Phil told him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning to Techno. “Can you help him upstairs? Go outside and take the stairs.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah okay,” Techno stuttered, moving forward and taking Phil’s place as he moved away.
Techno’s hands slid into Ranboo’s, much gentler than anyone would expect. For a man widely regarded as ‘The Blood God’, he was a lot softer under that threatening exterior. It was a tough process, with lots of tripping on steps and burns rubbing the wrong way, but they managed. Techno guided him inside and sat him down on the sofa. When Ranboo didn’t let go of his hands, he sat down right beside him.
“It looks like none of the glass got you, so that’s good,” Techno mumbled, and Ranboo could feel his eyes searching over him. He heard the man sigh through his nose, leaning back a bit when he realized, “It got in your eyes, didn’t it?”
Ranboo nodded, choking out a dry, “Yeah.”
What Ranboo didn’t know was how vacant his eyes looked. Techno could see them fully, and the damage made him terrified. In truth, he had no clue how much of it they could fix. Ranboo’s eyes had fogged over somewhat, parts of his irises splotchy and lighter than the rest. He never really tracked Techno’s movement or looked at his face. He looked around it, like his eyes were searching for something solid to lock on to. Ranboo’s eyes weren’t working, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.
Techno cleared his throat, doing his best to be reassuring when he said, “It’s gonna be alright, Ranboo. We’ll-We’ll fix it, make sure it heals up well.”
Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to respond, afraid of the tears that might follow if he opened his mouth. Instead, he nodded and squeezed Techno’s hands tighter. The man tapped a rhythm on the back of his hands with his thumbs in response, avoiding causing Ranboo anymore pain but reciprocating all the same. It eased him considerably, knowing he wasn’t alone. Usually, he dealt with the repercussions of his experiments on his own. Thinking about it, Ranboo wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle this alone. He… He really needed to tell someone about what was happening to him.
The sound of a trap door opening made Ranboo tense. Techno just kept tapping his hands, twisting to look over his shoulder and ask, “Did you find everything you need?”
“Yeah, luckily,” Phil sighed, his green and blond shape moving to sit on Ranboo’s other side. Ranboo’s hand was carefully pried from Techno’s and replaced with a cool glass. Phil told him, “Here, it’s a health potion, drink up.”
With guidance, Ranboo downed the pink liquid. As its warmth spread through his stomach, Phil took the bottle and took hold of his hand.
“Alright, I’m gonna put some cream on your arms and face that should help with the burns. It might sting, and I’m sorry, but try not to flinch,” Phil continued calmly.
Ranboo nodded, bracing for the uncomfort. It did, in fact, sting. He clenched Techno’s hand in reaction, sucking in a short breath. Techno didn’t seem to care at all. He took it, willing to be the anchor Ranboo needed. Once past the initial pain, it did feel relieving. The burns had been warm and irritated for so long, having relief felt amazing. When he was done applying the cream, Phil began bandaging his hands and arms. So they did have bandages. Ranboo didn’t think he had any chance of finding them.
“Now, this’ll probably be the worst part. Since it’s recent, I can do something about your eyes,” Phil explained, finishing a wrap on his arm. “It’s a type of eye drop. It’s a bunch of potion mixing that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that it’ll probably hurt. Do you think you can let Techno hold you just in case?”
That… was not reassuring, but there wasn’t much Ranboo could do. He nodded, feeling the knot forming in his shoulders from all the tension. He barely moved as he felt Techno wrap his arms around his, holding him tight. Despite how anxious what was about to happen made him feel, there was something comforting about being held like this. He could feel Techno’s heartbeat against his back. He could feel the warmth he emanated like a low burning campfire. His presence was grounding. Ranboo was thankful for it.
Phil’s hand cupped his cheek, and Ranboo could just see the potion bottle precariously tipped over his eyes. He held his breath, waiting for the drip to drop. Every part of him wanted to close his eyes, to avoid feeling anymore pain today, but he couldn’t afford that. He could barely see it, but he watched as the liquid built in the neck of the bottle… and dripped.
Ranboo hissed as the droplet hit his eye. He pulled back, knocking his head against Techno’s chin and blinking fiercely. Somehow, his eye felt like it was on fire. It had the same feeling downing a fire resistance potion did. It scorched your throat and made you sweat uncomfortably, but your body became completely immune to flame, as if your skin were piglin hide. That’s what his eyeball felt like, like it’d been dipped into lava and was being remade in the heat and the fire. Tears instinctively built in the corner of his eye and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
Phil could do something, though, reaching up with the edge of his sleeve to gently dab them away. He muttered guiltily, “I know, I’m sorry, but it’s only one more time, okay?”
Ranboo whined involuntarily at the prospect of going through that again. This whole day was awful, he just wanted it to be over. He didn’t want to deal with anything anymore. He tried to live peacefully, to just live happy and good lives with the people he cared about. But apparently there was no rest for the goodhearted.
Techno gave him a squeeze, mumbling in his ear, “You can do it, kid. Just one more, then it’ll all be over.”
He felt stupid, being coaxed like a kid to take medicine. He didn’t want to do it, but he peeled his eyes open. He stared up at Phil’s shape before him and hummed reluctantly, relenting his struggle and melting into Techno’s embrace. Phil’s hand returned to his cheek, holding his face steady as he readied the potion bottle.
“Okay, hold still for just a second,” Phil directed, tilting the bottle and letting the liquid drip.
As soon as the drop hit his eye, Ranboo curled back, folding in on himself. The fire came back full force, setting his eye ablaze. He kept his eyes shut tight, sucking in a sharp breath as his body quaked with a tremor he couldn’t control. Techno pulled him close, cradling him like something that could break with the slightest shove the wrong way. He gave in to the touch, pressing himself against Techno’s chest, whimpering as the pain dulled to a thrumming in his head. He knew it was over, there was no more pain to endure, but it brought no relief.
“You’re alright,” Techno rumbled, tucking his head under his chin. “I got you.”
Phil placed a hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. He sounded pained when he said, “You did great, Ranboo. You’ll be alright, you can rest now.”
He released a sigh, relaxing slightly and whispering, “Thank you.”
“Of course. You can always come to us for help or if you need anything at all, okay?” Phil assured him.
Ranboo cracked open his eyes just enough to see Phil’s shape, leaning close to see his face. He just nodded, knowing Phil was satisfied when his shoulders slumped and he sat back. Techno’s fingers lightly scratched his arm, luring him towards sleep. Exhaustion was settling deep in his bones, and the last thing he wanted to do now was move.
Phil had gotten up, leaving him and Techno alone. The man barely moved, just kept him company and made him feel safer than he had in a while. He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth and the feeling of home.
“Go to sleep, kid,” Techno urged quietly. “We’ll be waitin’ when you wake up.”
Ranboo hummed, letting his eyes droop shut. He leaned into Techno and let himself relax. Sleep hadn’t felt so welcoming in a while.
-
Waking up felt a lot like piercing a veil. Like breaking something not meant to be broken. The complete silence and emptiness that came with sleep was a rest from the constant bombardment that was being awake. Ranboo could feel himself slipping away from that tranquility, and he was sad to see it go. He started to feel things around him again, the pressure of being pressed against a solid surface. He heard the crackle of a fire in the fireplace and the gentle sound of someone breathing close by. He almost didn’t want to open his eyes, he mostly wanted to settle into the comfort of the moment and fall right back asleep. Before he could give in to that tempting glimpse of paradise, Ranboo opened his eyes.
And he saw nothing.
The breath in his throat hitched. Everything came back to him then: the water explosion, stumbling to Techno’s, Phil helping him, the eyedrops, the ache of remembering pain--all of it. The potion Phil had made was supposed to help him. He could at least see before, why was there nothing now? Why-Why was it so dark?
Ranboo shot up, gasping as he struggled to breathe. He was panicking. This is what panic felt like. He felt something shifting behind him, but he couldn’t focus on it. His thoughts were too scattered, too scared and frantic to make sense of anything. He grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand, feeling his fingers trembling. His other hand hovered in the air uselessly, too scared to move. Clearing the rest of the distance towards his face felt impossible. He was scared of what he would find. He didn’t know if he would find anything at all. Shakily, with low breaths rattling in his chest, he forced his hand to move. Right as his fingers were about to brush his skin, a hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled it away. He jumped, using all the strength he could muster to try and tug his hand free.
“No, no, Ranboo--hey, it’s just me. It’s alright, Ranboo, it’s just me,” Techno’s voice said, tone quieting as Ranboo calmed down. He worked to catch his breath, relaxing as he was pulled close to Techno’s side. He leaned into the touch, needing to know someone was there with him. Techno spoke quietly, “There we go. You’re good, kid, you’re safe.”
Ranboo swallowed, stumbling around his words breathlessly, “What-Why can’t I-? Why is it dark?”
-
Techno couldn’t understand why his heart felt like it was melting, like someone had ripped it right out of his chest and stomped on it with a steel-toed boot. He’d woken up to hear Ranboo struggling to breathe and feeling him shaking in fear. He grappled with consciousness fast enough to stop the kid from messing with his bandages, but he’d still been so scared. He was still shaking, pressed up against Techno’s side. It made sense, waking up and not being able to see anything.
Techno found his mouth was dry when he answered, “Bandages, around your eyes, to make sure they heal fine. I didn’t want you to mess them up, keep you from doing anything bad.”
Ranboo released a breath, relaxing greatly. He nodded and pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his lanky arms around them. He responded shakily, “O-Okay. I was just… scared of the-the worst.”
“I know,” Techno mumbled, forcing his racing heart to calm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not gonna… lose your sight, or anything. You’ll be okay.”
“Y-Yeah…” Ranboo exhaled, hiding his face in his knees. He pressed himself further into Techno’s side and offered a muffled, “Thanks.”
Techno sighed, giving Ranboo’s shoulders a squeeze. “It’s no problem.”
His battered heart beat weakly in his chest, running out its last few moments of adrenaline. He was lucky Phil was here. He had no idea how to heal water burns on a half-enderman’s eyes. If it was just him finding Ranboo injured and scared in his basement… he didn’t want to think about worst case scenarios. None would have been like this, even if this situation wasn’t very optimal itself. Techno would have just felt guilty. He wouldn’t know how to help Ranboo when he needed him. He’d have to ask Phil to teach him a few more things.
Guilt. That wasn’t an emotion Techno gave much consideration for. He often thought there was no use for the thing. Once you made a decision and went through with it, there was nothing else to be done. You had made your choice and made your move, all that you could do was see how your opponent countered. But this wasn’t a move on the chessboard of Techno’s life. This was something that happened in between matches. This wasn’t his life of battle after battle, life after life. This was his life of feeding his dogs, studying history with Phil, brewing potions in his basement; this was when the voices were quiet, asking for something tender and homely rather than something cold and made of steel. In this downtime, Techno had time to think. He had the time to come to terms with the fact that he was worried about the kid curled into his side, eyes wrapped in bandages, shaking on his sofa.
Techno didn’t trust ‘trust’. He’d had lots of experience with trust, having it broken and having it earned, having it stolen from him like an arrow through his heart, like a wither blowing wooden bridges to pieces of rubble. He didn’t know if he could do it again, let another kid worm his way into his heart just to break it. He didn’t think he could just sit and watch as Ranboo worried himself down to nothing, either. Phil pointed out what he was thinking before Techno realized he was thinking it; he saw parts of himself in Ranboo, and that made him all the more worried, all the more attached. Letting Ranboo into the Syndicate was the first step. Techno wanted to trust the kid, to let himself care about him. He just had to work out how he could do that again.
“Oh, you’re both awake, then?” Phil’s voice said, and Techno twisted to see him in the doorway, head peeking in from the kitchen.
“Yeah… yeah,” Techno answered, reigning in his thoughts and grounding back in reality. “What d’you need?”
Phil shook his head. “Nothing, just wanted to tell you I made dinner, whenever you want it.”
Techno turned to Ranboo, giving his shoulder a squeeze and asking, “Hungry?”
“Um… yeah, yeah, I guess,” Ranboo stammered, slowly unfurling himself. “I’ll, uh, I’ll give it a shot.”
Phil laughed from the doorframe, always light and airy, always given freely and easily. “Don’t worry about it, mate, we’ll help you if you really need it.”
Techno couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a family dinner. It was probably years ago, probably something with Phil and Wilbur when they were all much younger, but he couldn’t dredge up the memories of those more peaceful times. He could take in these moments for all they were worth, though. He could remember guiding Ranboo through his house, slowly and hesitantly, but getting to their destination all the same. He could remember Phil handing Ranboo a fork and casually taking his hand to show him where his plate was. He could remember the smile of satisfaction on Ranboo’s face when he discovered he could feed himself just fine. He could laugh at Ranboo’s sarcastic comments to Phil, getting comfortable in his new situation.
Old memories were just that: old memories. They were always being replaced and rearranged, making room for new ones. Techno liked to think he’d hold on to these memories for a while. He wanted to think that he could heal. He wanted to think he could be happy, be able to trust, be able to be something more than The Blade or The Blood God. In his kitchen, in the arctic, with two people he was fairly certain he’d die for (at least a 50/50 split), he thought he could be.