Cigarettes in the Snow

It's just a cigarette..

As the sun rose, and light fell over Snowchester, Ranboo awoke once more to only him and Micheal in bed.

"God please not again.." Ranboo's eyes darkened at the thought of Tubbo being out on the porch.

He saw Micheal still asleep beside him, which only worsened his concerns as he now feared for what would happen if this started to affect Micheal. They both always tried their best to never fight in front of him, though they've never really had a reason to fight until now. Ranboo slowly removed the covers and stepped out of bed, a feeling of dread sinking in as he took each step.

Not to anyone's surprise, he wasn't downstairs, Ranboo opened the basement trapdoor and started down the ladder. To Ranboo's relief, he saw Tubbo asleep at his desk. He made his way over to Tubbo, who had presumably passed out while working on one of his projects. Tubbo didn't tell Ranboo too much about his projects, or, maybe he did, but rather Ranboo doesn't remember the details. The feelings of worry and concern quickly returned as he noticed two cigarette butts on Tubbo's desk. He wanted to cry. Was he not doing enough? Was he not supporting him as much as he needed? Why did Tubbo feel the need to seek out another method of escapism, was he and Micheal not enough for him? Ranboo walked over and threw the cigarette butts in the trash bin next to his desk and turned off his lamp. He stared at them in the trash and sighed. He needed to help him. He knows how Tubbo works, he'll say it's fine when it is so clearly not...he can't risk losing Tubbo. This had something to do with Tommy, maybe it wasn't something he'd done, or rather something he hadn't. Ranboo couldn't wait any longer, it had been three days, and he didn't want it to go on any longer.

—

Ranboo was at the kitchen table, writing something in a book when he heard the creaking of the basement trapdoor opening. Tubbo made his way out and into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee.

"Tubbo, do you mind if you set down with me at the table?"

"Can't. I got work to do."

"Please..? It's really important."

"..." Tubbo contemplated his options, "Ugh, fine but please make it quick."

Why did Tubbo so annoyed? Is it that much of a bother to sit down with your family to talk? Ranboo didn't like thinking this way, he wanted this to be a positive conversation.

Tubbo finished making his coffee and sat down next to Ranboo.

"Tubbo, I know you're going through a lot," Ranboo reached over the table to hold Tubbo's hands, "But I'm here for you. I will help you get through this."

"Get through what exactly? Last time I checked I didn't ask for your help." Tubbo rolled his eyes, yet still, let Ranboo hold his hands.

"...Tommy. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I feel like it would help if we did.."

Tubbo looked down, his lip began to quiver, and the sinking feeling in his chest felt more present than ever, "..." Tubbo knew Ranboo was right, he didn't want to talk about it, he wanted to pretend it didn't happen, but that's not how people move on. He wanted to move on, and although his body and mind demanded he hold back absolutely everything, he managed to mumble out, "...I...I miss him." Tubbo wanted to cry, he never wanted to cry as hard as he did right then. Ranboo held his hand tighter, and feeling his hands and his support and love, Tubbo broke a bit. He tried and tried and tried to hold back, his feelings were too strong and he felt a single tear fall down his cheek. No. No. He didn't want this, he didn't want to cry in front of Ranboo, he didn't want anyone else to witness his pain. Another tear fell, and another. Tubbo began to sob.

Ranboo got out of his seat and went to go hug Tubbo. Tubbo had never held him this tight, he could feel his pain. Quite literally, Tubbo's head buried into Ranboo's shoulder, and as every tear fell Ranboo's skin began to sizzle. It hurt, but it was okay, this was the first time Tubbo had ever opened up, Tubbo needed this.

"I miss him..I miss him so much!" Tubbo held him tighter, he stopped fighting the urge to cry, as it would do nothing. He let out everything.

"I know..I know.." Ranboo closed his eyes, holding Tubbo closer, even though it hurt him more.

They stayed there, holding each other for about an hour. They both had forgotten their plans for the day, this was more important than any of them.

—

Tubbo returned to the basement shortly after, with his cold coffee in hand. He placed it on the table next to his gloves and a blowtorch. He felt stupid. Why. Why did he have to cry, he could've just kept it in. He did feel a bit better, thinking about Tommy, but he was still in so much pain. He hated opening up, he felt embarrassed and dumb, even knowing Ranboo would never judge him. The sinking feeling in his chest was still present, he wanted it to go away. His eyes locked with the pack of cigarettes on his desk. He shouldn't. He and Ranboo just had a moment, getting closure, so why did he want it so bad. He knew it would feel good, he liked feeling good. Was this addiction? No. No of course not. Because Tubbo could control himself. And because he has so much control he knows that if he only wants one, he'd only have one.

Tubbo reached for the pack, and hesitantly grabbed it. He contemplated for a moment, and put it back down. This is control. This is having control. He likes having control, knowing he isn't going to get hurt...guess that's why they called him a tyrant. Because he wanted control. This is fine. He is in control of his actions. He knows what he's doing. He's not addicted. He's had problems with addiction, if anyone would know how to fight it, it would be him. Though there is nothing to fight, because he is not addicted. He won't let himself get addicted, for Ranboo and Michael's sake. He is not addicted. He is in control. He decides, no one else. He is not addicted. He. Has. Control.

As Tubbo lit the cigarette, he continued to work on his project.