Once Upon a December

That Was Close

The city streets seemed even colder that day, the freezing air cutting through Tommy's thin, tattered clothes like a thousand icy daggers. Reluctantly, he shouldered the responsibility of embarking on yet another perilous journey to the bustling marketplace, where survival was measured by the morsels of food he could secure. The biting cold seemed to reflect the chilling hunger that had become a relentless adversary in Tommy's life.

Tubbo and Ranboo, his steadfast companions in this unforgiving urban wilderness, depended on him to keep their makeshift family fed. Their trust in him weighed heavily on his shoulders, compelling him to brave the biting winds and the sea of unfamiliar faces that thronged the market, seeking sustenance of their own.

Tommy's keen eyes darted from one vendor's stall to another, scanning for that fleeting opportunity to grasp a piece of fruit or a loaf of bread without detection. The crowded marketplace offered a cloak of anonymity, but it also rendered him just another faceless figure in the bustling throng, a perfect target for those with malicious intent.

As he dared to reach for a plump apple, a vice-like grip suddenly clamped over his mouth, smothering his startled cry. Panic surged through him like an electric jolt as he was ruthlessly yanked into a dim, foreboding alleyway, away from the bustling market and the world he had come to know. The walls of the narrow passage seemed to close in on him, and Tommy's heart raced, his breaths quickening as he scoured the dimness for a means of escape. However, he found himself ensnared in the relentless clutches of a desperate stranger, whose grip felt like a vice of despair.

The man's strength was unwavering, and Tommy's cries for help were muted by the firm hand that covered his mouth. Fear welled up in his eyes as the realization struck him—there was no way he could outmatch this stranger in a physical struggle. His breaths grew shallow, his chest constricted with each heartbeat, and hope seemed to dim with each passing moment.

Just as the abyss of despair threatened to swallow him whole, a distant yell pierced the oppressive silence of the alley. The kidnapper's grip loosened ever so slightly, distracted by the distant commotion, and it was a fleeting chance that Tommy desperately seized. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he squirmed and wriggled, breaking free from the stranger's clutches. Gasping for air, he stumbled backward, a tangled mess of desperation and relief.

The stranger, realizing that his opportunity was slipping away, lunged at Tommy once more, but a towering figure suddenly emerged at the entrance of the alley. It was Sam, the head guard, his presence as imposing as a sentinel of justice. His eyes blazed with an unwavering determination, his very stance commanding immediate attention.

"Let the boy go!" Sam's voice thundered through the alley, his authority cutting through the chaos.

Startled, the would-be kidnapper released Tommy and made a frantic attempt to escape, but Sam's long strides closed the gap in an instant. With a powerful grip, he apprehended the man, preventing any further bid for freedom. Justice had been served, and Sam's stalwart presence had once again thwarted a sinister plot.

Sam's piercing gaze shifted from the apprehended stranger to Tommy, who stood trembling, his breaths still ragged from the ordeal. The young boy, in the aftermath of a near-kidnapping, felt a swirl of emotions—gratitude, fear, and relief—overcome him.

"You alright, kid?" Sam's voice held a note of concern, his stern facade softened by genuine worry.

Tommy nodded, his voice a mere whisper, "Yeah, thanks to you."

Sam, a formidable figure with the appearance of a creeper-hybrid, offered Tommy a reassuring pat on the shoulder. It was a small, comforting gesture that seemed to bridge the divide between guardian and child. "You need to be careful out here. It's a dangerous world, especially for someone your age."

Tommy, now feeling a burgeoning gratitude for the guardian who had twice come to his rescue, managed a weak smile, his voice quivering with the weight of unspoken emotions. "I'll keep that in mind, Sam."

Sam nodded, his gaze unwavering. "If you ever need help or someone to talk to, don't hesitate to find me. I'm not just a guard; I can be a friend too."

Without another word, Tommy nodded and ran away.

Tommy's return to their makeshift hideout marked a moment of heightened tension. His heart still raced from the narrow escape in the dark alleyway, a reminder of the ever-present dangers that lurked on the unforgiving streets. Tubbo and Ranboo were anxiously awaiting his return, their expressions a turbulent mix of relief and lingering concern. Their shelter, once a haven from the harsh realities of the world, felt increasingly fragile.

Sitting on tattered blankets and scavenged newspapers, Tommy began to recount the harrowing encounter with the would-be kidnapper. His friends listened intently, their eyes wide with the realization of how perilous their lives had become. The incident underscored the harsh truth that survival on the streets was a daily battle, and their vulnerabilities were all too exposed.

Ranboo, typically the more reserved member of their trio, couldn't keep silent in the wake of Tommy's account. "Tommy, that was... too close."

Tommy nodded, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability that echoed the fragility of their existence. "I know, guys. It's getting harder out there, and we need to be even more careful."

It was at this tense moment that Tubbo, the ever-resourceful and daring of the group, took a deep breath and locked his eyes onto Tommy. There was a glint of mischief in Tubbo's gaze, a hint of something daring on the horizon.

"You know, Tommy," Tubbo began, "it's interesting you mention danger because there's something you need to hear. I overheard a few people at the market talking about the upcoming royal festival. It's where the royal family of the Antarctic Empire will be attending."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, intrigued and somewhat skeptical. "And what's so special about a royal festival?"

Tubbo's grin widened, his excitement barely contained. "Well, Tommy, these festivals are known for their extravagance. The royals, with all their wealth and pomp, display their finest possessions and serve the best food from around the empire. It's a prime opportunity to grab some supplies. We've never tried it before, but I think it's worth a shot. What do you guys think?"

Ranboo, usually the voice of caution, glanced at Tommy, silently seeking his response. The idea of stealing from a royal festival seemed audacious and undeniably risky, but their current circumstances were becoming increasingly desperate. Tommy, with a furrowed brow, contemplated the proposal. He weighed the risks against the potential rewards, fully aware that there were few other options available.

After a thoughtful pause, he sighed, his voice laden with resignation. "I guess we don't have many other options, do we? If we're careful and stick together, it might just work."

Tubbo's face lit up with excitement, his eyes gleaming with determination. "That's the spirit! We'll plan everything carefully, make sure we're prepared, and come festival time, we'll seize the opportunity to secure some much-needed supplies. We'll show 'em how street smarts can outshine their fancy parties."

With their plan set in motion, the three began to strategize for the upcoming royal festival.