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audioaujom · 11 months

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LiS AU Chapter 1: Chrysalis

LiSAU Hub, Chapter 2 >

Word Count: 17,273

Chapter TWs: guns, gun violence, bullying, fighting, mentioned non-consenual drug use

The first thing Ranboo noticed as he tried to blink his eyes open was the thick coating of mud down one side of his body and clinging to his face. He shuddered and slowly tried to sit up, the slick mud squelching as he moved and wiped at his face.

Where am I? What’s going on?

The familiarity of the woods by the lighthouse on the edge of town was quick to catch up with him as he wobbled to unsteady feet, using his already mud coated arm to shield from the downpour that was soaking and chilling him down to his bones.

It’s a storm? Since when?

Still using his arm to block out the pelting rain, he felt drawn to follow the worn travel path up to the lighthouse itself through the dense trees, which he noticed were bending and swaying in the howling wind that accompanied the downpour.

Weird.

His steps felt slow, his body creaking with sluggish effort as he squinted in an attempt to see more than a few inches in front of his face in the extreme weather. He eventually clambered to the top of the path, where the ground leveled out and had a small outlook by the steep cliffs and the lighthouse up another short but inclined path. His eyes blew wide even as it caused more rain to sting into them, noticing the swirling dark gray clouds that formed a massive tornado over the bay below the cliffs.

That’s a whole tornado… was the only thought he could force out of his cold-numbed mind, watching the debris get sucked up into it as the howling of the wind grew louder by the second. His widened gaze caught sight of a boat from the bay getting swept up into the storm but didn’t quite merge, flying off to the side and straight into the side of the lighthouse. The entire top half of the building started sliding to one side, the brickwork crumbling outward as the boat smashed further and the wind refused to let up. The top portion of the building with the railing and the light rained broken glass and decaying bricks in Ranboo’s direction, him unable to stumble back as it cast a dark shadow and threatened to land right on top of—

Ranboo felt himself jolt upright, still internally braced for impact only to look around and recognize the inside of his photography classroom instead of more destruction. His eyes frantically scanned the room, seeing everyone else engrossed in Mr. Jefferson’s lecture, a wave of relief washing over him as him suddenly feeling exhausted and falling asleep on the desk beside his textbook came back.

Geez, some dream. Guess I need to stop falling asleep in class, that was surreal.

“Alfred Hitchcock famously called film ‘little pieces of time’ but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was.”

Jefferson’s voice broke through his haze of thoughts, awkwardly readjusting his things sprawled on the desk in front of him as he blinked the lingering sleep out of his eyes. Taking a glance at the time on his phone in his lap, he slowly shut his notebook and pushed it off to one side, knowing he wouldn’t fully comprehend any more of the lesson. The edge of the notebook poked into the bottom of his camera, which shifted a little. His overstuffed photo journal sat on the other side of the desk, a handful of pens scattered around it.

Everything’s fine, it wasn’t real. I’m here, tuning out a photography lecture. Like normal.

“These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow; from light to shadow; from color to chiaroscuro…” Looking up from his desk, he saw a girl he vaguely recognized but couldn’t put a name to crumple up a piece of notebook paper, aiming a throw across the room that soared through the air and hit an unfocused Tubbo square in the face. Tubbo blinked slowly, rubbing at it and ducking his head down to hover over his notes as Ranboo frowned to himself, the boy’s brown bangs hiding his eyes as he slumped further into the already oversized hoodie. The girl snickered, elbowing her friend Minx beside her, who smirked before her attention was drawn to her phone that buzzed from its spot on top of the desk. Strawberry blonde hair fell in a perfect ponytail down her back that swished a little as she turned her head, manicured nails tapping a scattered rhythm on the desktop. “Now, can someone give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition?” Minx put her hand up, but didn’t wait for Jefferson to call on her before she loudly announced, “Diane Arbus.”

“There you go, Minx! Why Arbus?” Jefferson sat back on the edge of the front desk, crossing his arms with an approving smile. His plastic framed glasses sat smartly in the center of his face, his dark black hair combed up into a near-quiff that kept it from his eyes as he turned his attention to Minx from where it was normally sweeping the lecture hall.

“Because all of her images captured, like… hopeless faces and sad children and babies and shit.”

“She saw humanity as tortured, right?” Earning the nod of confirmation, Jefferson turned to address the rest of the class with an unimpressed frown. “Frankly, that’s bullshit, but keep that to yourselves.” Chuckling to himself, Jefferson pushed off the desk to continue lecturing as Ranboo felt his attention once again wandering back to the stuff on his desk. “Seriously, though. I could frame any one of you in a dark corner and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn’t that too easy? Too obvious?”

Ranboo carefully picked up his camera, noticing a smudge on the front lens with a small frown. He lowered it down to his lap, hooking his thumb under the edge of his shirt to carefully clean it while Jefferson droned on in the background. “What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence? She had a brilliant eye, so she could have taken another approach.”

“I’m personally not a big fan of hers, actually.” Minx’s voice held her usual smugness as she continued, Ranboo not having to look up to picture the confident look on her face as he brought the lens up to eye level to make sure it appeared clean. “I prefer Robert Frank.”

“Me too, Minx. He captured the essence of post-war, beat America. You don’t have beauty without a beat. Which explains why Frank was Keroauc’s photographic muse, and both were the great—” Fumbling a little with his camera as he tried to be careful in putting it back down so as to not disturb the class, he felt himself accidentally press the shutter button, a brief flash of light going off as the camera whirred to life. “Shh, I believe Ranboo has taken what you kids call a ‘selfie’.” Jefferson immediately noticed, Ranboo pushing the camera away from him as his face burned hot with embarrassment. He heard a couple of other kids in the class laughing, trying to duck his head out of view with no success. “A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Ranboo here has a gift.” Face managing to burn even hotter, Ranboo slid down in his seat even after everyone was looking away from him again. Once he was certain the attention was off of him, he grabbed the polaroid from where it slid out of his camera, shaking it a little and grimacing at the slightly blurry image of the bottom half of his masked face. “Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early 1800’s. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie-expression. Haha, sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Jefferson was the only one who laughed, the rest of the class not even bothering to give him pity points before he cleared his throat and continued, “The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as it’s been around.” Turning his attention pointedly back to Ranboo—who jumped a little, Jefferson smirked. “Now Ranboo, since you’ve captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?”

“Oh, uhhh…” No matter how hard he thought about it, not a single name was coming to mind.

Great time to blank.

“I think I’d have to say the mirror?”

“Be serious, Ranboo.” Jefferson rolled his eyes despite the clear amusement in his face, opening the question up to the rest of the class. “Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?”

“Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created ‘daguerreotypes’, a process that gave portraits a sharp, reflective style.” Minx was the first to answer, not even bothering to raise her hand as she then shot a sharp look back at Ranboo. He didn't bother returning her look, slipping the accidental and blurry selfie into one of the later pages of his journal. “Like a mirror, as the geek ever-so eloquently put it.”

Also ignoring Minx’s comment, Jefferson pressed on with his lecture, his eyes glancing down at his watch. “The Daguerreian Process, as it’s known, brought out fine detail in people’s faces, making them extremely popular from the 1800’s onward. The first American daguerreotype self-portrait was done by Robert Cornealius. You can find out all about him… in your textbook.” His timing was spot on, Ranboo checking his phone to see the time switch over to 3:00. “‘Spose that’s all we really have time for today, so if you need to leave feel free to head out. But! Don’t forget your deadline to submit a photo for the ‘Everyday Heroes’ contest.” Most of the students were already packing up as he continued, several people brushing past him to head out the door with phones in hand. “I’ll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you’ll be feted by the art world.” Ranboo opened his journal, looking over the photo held between the first page and cover that was supposed to be his entry—an ambiently lit shot of the back of his head staring at the wall of polaroids in his room—before shaking his head and sliding the journal into his bag alongside his notebook.

No way is that actually good enough to submit.

“It’s great exposure, and it can kickstart a career in photography, so Charlie and Freddie: get it together. Poki, don’t hide, I’m waiting for your entry, too, and yes, Ranboo, I see you pretending not to see me.”

Cursing under his breath, Ranboo made sure the rest of his stuff made its way into his bag, slipping his phone into his back pocket and holding his camera in both of his hands before standing up and stretching a little. Jefferson had already headed back to the front desk of the classroom, Minx hot on his tail as the few remaining students were packing up or checking things on their own. Walking a little absentmindedly after slinging his messenger bag on, Ranboo soon found himself standing beside Tubbo’s desk, noticing his friend staring off out the nearby window and not even registering his approach.

“Hey, Tubbo. You alright?” Ranboo asked cautiously, watching as Tubbo flinched hard, turning to give him an apologetic look.

“Oh, Ranboo, hey.” His smile was weak and a little watery, but it still seemed bright enough as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, just a little tired today.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Ranboo nodded, not wanting to bother him too much since he did look exhausted. “See you later?” “Yeah, of course.”

Waiting until Tubbo was fully distracted by staring out the window again, Ranboo bent down to pick up the crumpled paper that had hit him in the face during class, tucking it into his pocket until he was far enough away that Tubbo couldn’t see it before reading it.

— Hey creep! Just saw your video. You really need to learn to keep your hands to yourself. It's no wonder the other girls don't trust you anymore. - xo —

Gross. They’re all so awful.

Shoving the note back in his pocket, Ranboo eyed Jefferson—who seemed busy with Minx, the two chatting at the desk—and tried to slip out the door before the teacher noticed.

“I see you, Ranboo!” His hopes were crushed in an instant, deflating and turning to guiltily look at Jefferson, who crossed his arms. “Don’t even think about leaving here until we talk about your entry.” Sheepishly heading over to the desk, Ranboo avoided eye contact as Jefferson sighed heavily. “I’d never let one of photography’s future stars avoid handing in his picture.”

“Okay but… do I really have to?” “Look, I know it’s a drag to hear some old dude lecture you, but life won’t wait for you to play catch-up. You’re young, the world is yours, blah blah blah, right? But you do have a gift. You have the fever to take images; to frame the world only the way you envision it. Now all you need is the courage to share your gift with others. That’s what separates the artist from the amateur.”

Jefferson’s words swam around in his head as he turned to leave the classroom, Jefferson then resuming his conversation with Minx, seemingly satisfied with his brief lecture.

Slipping his headphones in as he headed out into the hallway, Ranboo tiredly scrolled through his playlists before finding something he’d like, shuffling it and putting his phone back away as he headed for the nearest bathroom on the floor.

The music drowned out the idle chatting of those leaving or showing up for their classes and milling around the building, flashes of white walls covered in scattered Halloween decorations and relevant campus posters blurring together as he rounded the corner at the end of the hall. A missing poster on the corkboard by the elevators had his steps faltering just long enough for him to read the name Thomas Simons off of it before shaking his head and ducking through the remaining students between him and the door of the boy’s restroom.

Ranboo ignored his reflection in favor of turning on one of the sinks, taking his mask off and letting out a long sigh. “Today’s so weird.” He commented to himself, cupping his hands to catch some water before bending over to splash it across his face.

Between that tornado dream, getting noticed in class, and Jefferson tearing me a new one over my entry, I’d say I’m ready to head back to bed.

After using a rough paper towel to dry off his face and slipping his mask back on, he leaned heavily on the sink and reached into his bag to pull out the overstuffed journal with the offending entry photo. The longer he stared at it the worse it looked, causing him to tear the Polaroid into no less than four pieces before sprinkling it into the trash can.

Finally ready to head back to his dorm, he stopped as a flash of blue belonging to a pair of butterfly wings landing on the sink at the far end of the room registered in his peripherals.

Already reaching for his camera, Ranboo quietly crept forward and raised it up to eye level, making sure the shot looked right before snapping a photo. The whir of the camera scared the butterfly off, but he was too busy eagerly waiting on the film to pay it much mind. He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face at the sight of the slowly developing photo, the light coming in through a high window on the bathroom wall perfectly lighting up the sparkling blue of the insect’s wings as it perched on the sink. After putting his camera back away and tucking the new photo securely in his journal, Ranboo finally started to feel a little better.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom slammed open, pacing footsteps hurrying inside. Stepping back to stay out of view at the end of the row of stalls, Ranboo heard the newcomer open each of the stall doors individually before sighing in relief, moving to instead pace in front of the sinks. Stealing a peek around the corner of the nearest stall, Ranboo blinked in surprise as he noticed the familiar bush of dark hair belonging to Wilbur Soot angrily talking to himself in the mirror.

“It’s all cool, you got this… You’re okay, right? You got this.”

Yeah, you seem… totally balanced.

“You own this school! You could blow it up if you wanted, right? So what’s this little matter? Yeah… that’s right.”

After a tense moment of silence where Wilbur was all but glaring at his own reflection through rounded glasses and an obnoxious turtleneck, the door to the bathroom slammed open for a second time and left Ranboo with his back hunched and pressed against the end of the row of stalls with his breath caught in his throat.

“So you're here.”

“Glad to be.” A new voice spoke up, and Ranboo heard the stranger pushing open the stall doors just like Wilbur had done previously. “We alone?”

“I already checked.” Wilbur grumbled, seeming even more annoyed and on edge than when he came in alone.

Whoever this is, he hates their guts.

Maybe we could be friends.

“Perfect! Then let's talk.”

“Whatever it is you want, I don't have it.”

“Wrong! I know you’re fucking loaded.” Curiosity completely piqued, Ranboo once again snuck a glance around the corner of the stalls to glance at Wilbur and the dark haired stranger accosting him, the two too engrossed in their conversation to notice him watching. Messy black hair trailed all the way down the stranger’s neck, fringes of his bangs in his eyes as he glared at Wilbur with a cocky smile that almost seemed a little familiar. “And I also happen to know that you're pumping out drugs and shit to the kids around here, and you know that I know. But if you don't want to pay me to keep that on the down low, I bet your respectable family would give me a nice little reward for tattling.”

“You leave them out of this, asshole!”

“Then maybe you'd rather I tell everybody that Wilbur Soot is a punk-ass bitch who begs like a little girl and talks to himself—!” Wilbur backed off a little as the guy got up in his face with a smirk, before Wilbur was reaching behind him, flipping up the back of his jacket and pulling something out of his back waistband.

The glinting metal of a handgun instantly cut the stranger off, Ranboo pressing a hand to his mouth in shock as he ducked back out of view.

Is he crazy?!

“You have no idea who the fuck I am, or who the fuck you're messing with!” Wilbur’s voice pitched up almost manically, and Ranboo could hear the other guy stumbling back towards the door.

“Whoa, where’d you get that? What the hell are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!”

“Don't ever tell me what to do! I'm so sick of people trying to control me!” Wilbur was on a clear power trip thanks to the gun in his hands, backing the other guy into the paper towel dispenser above the trash can by the door, the automated machine giving a tentative whir as a section of paper towel rolled out from the movement.

“This’ll get you into so much more trouble than the drugs, so put it the fuck down.” The stranger tried to keep his voice steady, but it wobbled in fear as Ranboo peeked around the corner again to see Wilbur waving the gun around wildly.

“You think anyone could actually control what I do?! I can do whatever I want! I bet nobody would even miss your 'punk-ass', would they?”

“Get that gun away from me, psycho!” The guy finally attempted to shove Wilbur away, but the movement caused a brief scuffle as the loud ‘BANG’ of the gun going off had Ranboo leaping out of his hiding place with a hand outstretched towards the two while blood started soaking through the stranger’s shirt.

"No!!"

The world began swirling around Ranboo in blurry sepia hues, the bathroom first moving in slow motion as both the stranger and Wilbur’s gun fell to the floor before disappearing around him and being replaced by flashes of the hallway that soon became overwhelming, his eyes unable to block out all the movement while his stomach churned like he was in freefall and his head pounded and his face felt flushed and hot before suddenly—

“Alfred Hitchcock famously called film ‘little pieces of time’ but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was.”

Huh?

A blink put everything back into focus, the familiar surroundings of his photography class greeting him as one of his hands that had been outstretched in the bathroom slowly fell back into his lap.

I was in the bathroom, right? With Wilbur and that guy he shot…

Jefferson stood at the front of the room, his arms crossed as he continued on with a lecture that made Ranboo’s head hurt. “These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow—”

Wait a second, isn’t this—?

The familiar words from Jefferson had him feeling sick again, glancing around to realize he wasn’t just back in his photography class, but he was somehow back in his photography class from roughly 10 minutes ago.

“—from light to shadow; from color to chiaroscuro…”

No way, no damn way. There’s no way that I— His thoughts were cut off as he watched the girl whose name he still couldn’t call to mind crumpled up a note and aimed a throw, the paper ball soaring through the air and colliding with a distracted Tubbo’s face.

If Minx’s phone goes off next, does that mean this is real…?

As if waiting for his thought as a cue, Minx’s phone began buzzing on her desk, Ranboo jumping in surprise and accidentally managing to knock his camera off his desk while Jefferson’s lecture continued as if nothing was wrong. “Now, can someone give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition?”

Looking down, Ranboo saw the shattered lens of his camera accompanied by the rest of it in several now broken pieces, a deep sense of panic overtaking him as he looked up just in time to see Minx put her hand up but not wait for Jefferson to call on her before she loudly announced, “Diane Arbus.”

“There you go, Minx! Why Arbus?” Jefferson sat back on the edge of the front desk, crossing his arms with an approving smile.

“Because all of her images captured, like… hopeless faces and sad children and babies and shit.”

Okay, so… I can rewind time? Maybe? Somehow?

Wait, does that mean I can…?

Tentatively reaching one of his hands out again, he focused hard on going back even just a few seconds. Nothing happened for long enough that he almost felt like a moron, before swirling sepia overtook his vision for a second time and he stopped it in a panic. He tried to subtly whip his head around to see what had changed, only to realize his camera was back—unbroken—on the desk as Minx’s phone buzzed again for the third time.

“Now, can someone give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition?” Minx put her hand up, but didn’t wait for Jefferson to call on her before she loudly announced, “Diane Arbus.”

“There you go, Minx! Why Arbus?” Jefferson sat back on the edge of the front desk, crossing his arms with an approving smile.

“Because all of her images captured, like… hopeless faces and sad children and babies and shit.”

This can't be real. No way. I'm dreaming or something, right?

“Seriously, though. I could frame any one of you in a dark corner and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn’t that too easy? Too obvious?”

Ranboo picked his camera up off of the desk almost robotically, going through the motions of using the edge of his shirt to clean the dirty lens like he had earlier, the familiar repetitive motion easing a little of the churning panic in his stomach.

“What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence? She had a brilliant eye, so she could have taken another approach.”

“I’m personally not a big fan of hers, actually.” Minx’s voice held her usual smugness as she continued on, Ranboo doing his best to ignore the twist in his gut as he recognized her answer. “I prefer Robert Frank.”

“Me too, Minx. He captured the essence of post-war, beat America. You don’t have beauty without a beat. Which explains why Frank was Keroauc’s photographic muse, and both were the great—” The past repeated itself in one fell swoop, the light of Ranboo’s camera flashing as it whirred to life, once again taking an accidental selfie as confusion, shame, and panic broiled together in his stomach. “Shh, I believe Ranboo has taken what you kids call a ‘selfie’.” Jefferson immediately noticed, but seemed to ignore the wide-eyed nervousness clear on his student's face. “A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Ranboo here has a gift.” He barely had any energy left to be embarrassed as a couple of students laughed and then looked away from him again, his frozen hands clutching the camera like a lifeline. “Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early 1800’s. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie-expression. Haha, sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Jefferson was the only one who laughed, the rest of the class not even bothering to give him pity points before he cleared his throat and continued, “The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as it’s been around.” Finally thawing out a little, Ranboo’s shaky hands set his camera on the desk and pulled the distressingly familiar blurry photo out, shaking it a bit before slipping it into his journal, just like last time. “Now Ranboo, since you’ve captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?”

Distantly knowing the answer but still on the verge of a panic attack, Ranboo stumbled out a meek, “Er, I’m sorry, but could I use the bathroom real fast?” “You can’t get out of it that easy, Ranboo.” Jefferson scolded lightly, but contrary to his words he opened the question up to the rest of the class. “Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?”

“Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created ‘daguerreotypes’, a process that gave portraits a sharp, reflective style. Like a mirror.” Minx answered confidently, and despite still not fully processing everything that had happened Ranboo was suddenly overcome with the urge to steal her answer and wipe the smug look off of her face.

Dream or no dream, there should be no harm in me changing the outcome a little, right?

With an outstretched hand and a little more focus, Ranboo accepted the small headache he received when the blurring visuals around him stopped as he heard Jefferson ask again, “Now Ranboo, since you’ve captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?”

“The Daguerreian process.” He answered after a moment of him pretending to be deep in thought, trying not to look too giddy as he continued, “Invented by a French painter named… Louis Daguerre, around 1830.”

“Well, it seems someone has been reading as well as posing! Nice work.” Jefferson smiled widely, Minx shooting him the nastiest glare she could muster from across the room.

He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her.

“The Daguerreian process made portraiture largely popular because it gave the subjects clear, defined features. You can learn more when you finish reading the assigned chapters. Ranboo is already way ahead of the rest of you.” The compliment left a brief spark of warmth in Ranboo’s chest, despite knowing he fully stole the answer after zoning out for an entire hour lecture. Jefferson checked his watch, frowning. “‘Spose that’s all we really have time for today, so if you need to leave feel free to head out. But! Don’t forget your deadline to submit a photo for the ‘Everyday Heroes’ contest.” Most of the students were already packing up as he continued, several people brushing past him to head out the door with phones in hand. “I’ll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you’ll be feted by the art world.” Ranboo opened his journal, taking one look at his fixed entry photo and slamming the journal shut again, glaring at it a little before shaking his head and sliding the journal into his bag alongside his notebook.

Didn't improve since I last saw it a few minutes ago.

He lightly pinched one of his forearms, wincing at the spike of uncomfortable pain.

So… not a dream, then?

More focused this time—and determined to let Tubbo have his rest, Ranboo packed up his stuff as Minx all but chased Jefferson up to his desk. Trying to use Minx as cover just like last time, he ducked for the door only to hear—

“I see you, Ranboo! Don’t even think about leaving here until we talk about your entry.” He grimaced, sulking back towards the desk as he didn't manage to escape having the conversation he didn't want to have the first time again. “I’d never let one of photography’s future stars avoid handing in his picture.”

“I just… I don’t think I have one.” Ranboo tried—only half lying, Minx crossing her arms and angrily waiting for them to finish talking. “You’re a better photographer than you are liar. Given your photo output, I’m sure you must have a thousand pics by now.” Jefferson chastised, and Ranboo glanced away in hopes the embarrassment on his face wouldn't be visible. “It’ll just… take a long time to find a good one.” Still not fully lying, Ranboo tried again, this time earning a defeated sigh from his professor.

“Okay, but don’t take too long. John Lennon once said ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’. So go ahead, don’t let me stop you.”

Frowning a little, Ranboo contemplated trying the conversation one more time as Jefferson turned his attention back to Minx.

Can't hurt to leave a better impression, right?

Sticking his hand out again felt less silly this time, and the swirling surroundings telling of rewinding time showed up with less focus and a smaller headache.

Must be getting better at this.

He felt himself shifting in physical space back towards his desk, stopping with a slightly gasping breath as everything solidified around him again.

Minx was tailing Jefferson to his desk again, and he smiled to himself at the success as he marched up beside her and steeled himself to start a conversation with Jefferson first. “Mr. Jefferson, excuse me. Could I talk to you for a second?”

“Yes, excuse you.” Minx huffed, but Jefferson put a hand up to cut off any nasty comment she was going to add.

“No, Minx, excuse us.” He turned his full attention to Ranboo, who tried not to shy away from it. “I’d never let one of photography’s future stars avoid handing in his picture.”

“I’m on top of it.” Ranboo lied through his teeth, putting on a smile as he continued, “I know that John Lennon once said ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’, so I’m just making sure that doesn't happen. I’ll have something for you soon.”

“You’re on fire today. All the right answers.” Jefferson clapped a hand onto his shoulder, smiling warmly. “Good. Just make sure you finish working on it by today, I have faith in you.”

“Thanks.” Ducking out of the classroom and putting his headphones in again, he made sure to select a different playlist to shuffle as he sped down the hall towards the bathroom.

If this really is the same, I've gotta stop Wilbur from shooting that guy in the bathroom.

Ignoring the familiar Halloween decorations and even brushing past the missing poster, Ranboo plowed through the crowds to get to the bathroom.

I should do as much the same as I can. What's the movie, uh… butterfly effect? Where the butterfly causes a world meltdown or whatever?

Probably should avoid that.

Taking his mask off to splash cold water onto his face again, Ranboo grounded himself as best he could before his thoughts could fly any further off the handle. He took a deep breath, wiped his face dry, put his mask back on, and tore his entry photo into just as many pieces and tossed it into the trash.

Speaking of butterflies…

The same blue butterfly came drifting down to the bathroom sink, Ranboo ready with his camera to take the same shot and scare the insect off as the camera whirred to life again.

He made sure the photo was fully developed before he tucked it into his journal, going ahead to hide in the corner of the bathroom and taking a deep breath.

Wilbur should be here any minute. I can do this.

He paced the small section of bathroom he could, listening intently for the moment the door would open and everything would repeat.

What could I possibly do that would get both of them out of the bathroom at the same time?

HIs racing plans all stopped at the same time as the door slammed open, Ranboo doing his best to hide out sight again as he heard Wilbur checking the stalls.

“It’s all cool, you got this… You’re okay, right? You got this.” Ranboo peeked around the corner to see him glaring at his reflection again, his glasses glinting in the awkward fluorescent lights. “You own this school! You could blow it up if you wanted, right? So what’s this little matter? Yeah… that’s right.”

At least it’s the same crazy as before.

The door swung open for a second time as he ducked out of view, listening to Wilbur and the stranger begin their rather odd conversation for a second time.

“So you're here.”

“Glad to be.” The stranger paused, pushing open one of the stalls. “We alone?”

“I already checked.”

“Perfect! Then let's talk.”

Okay, how do I stop them without drawing attention to myself?

“Whatever it is you want, I don't have it.”

As the two argued, he slowly backed further and further away, before he felt himself bump into a cleaning cart that had been left in the empty area he was now occupying, the mops and other tools inside clattering loudly from the movement.

Panicking as Wilbur and the stranger stopped talking and had clearly heard him, he reached out his hand to rewind just a few seconds to save him from being the one to get shot.

Time slowing back to its normal pace a few seconds prior to his mistake had his heart hammering in his chest, his blood pumping loudly in his ears as he took a moment to collect himself. Turning around to see the cart he bumped into, he realized that he could see the raised indent in the wall that led down to a rather inconspicuous fire alarm that was hiding behind the yellow bag of the cart.

Ranboo made sure he was extra slow and quiet as he pushed the cart out of the way, straining to listen to the conversation to make sure he didn’t need to rewind again.

“Then maybe you'd rather I tell everybody that Wilbur Soot is a punk-ass bitch who begs like a little girl and talks to himself—!”

“You have no idea who the fuck I am, or who the fuck you're messing with!” Wilbur was yelling, Ranboo not even needing to see to know that he’d brandished the gun for a second time.

“Whoa, where’d you get that? What the hell are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!”

The stranger’s panic urged him to move faster, finally getting the cart far enough out of the way he could finally reach for the white handle embedded in the red square on the wall.

“Don't ever tell me what to do! I'm so sick of people trying to control me!”

“This’ll get you into so much more trouble than the drugs, so put it the fuck down.”

He hesitated a little as he stuck his hand into the groove, realizing he could be in a lot of trouble if anyone caught him pulling the alarm for anything other than a fire.

There might not be any cameras in here, but is there a way they could find out?

“You think anyone could actually control what I do?! I can do whatever I want! I bet nobody would even miss your 'punk-ass', would they?”

The familiar words dismissed any concerns about his own reputation at the school, instantly pulling down on the handle. The shrill noise of the fire alarm caught all three boys in the bathroom off guard at the same time, the ringing high-pitched and incessant the moment the lever was pulled. Ranboo instantly peeked out around the corner, hoping that neither of them would notice him in the newly created commotion.

“No way…” Both of Wilbur’s hands clutching the gun lowered at the same time, giving the other guy a chance to knee him hard in the stomach.

“Don't EVER touch me again, dickhead!”

In an instant the two were out of the bathroom, leaving Ranboo alone to try and catch his breath as the reality of everything started to sink in.

That did not just happen! His thoughts were screaming, slow steps carrying him out to the main area of the bathroom. Wilbur and the stranger were long gone, and he knew he needed to leave the building and hopefully not get caught for pulling the alarm. This can’t possibly be real! I just saw some dude get shot and then saved him after reliving the same boring photography lecture? What the hell is going on?!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he shakily exited the bathroom and glanced around the hall, only to be met with a familiar security guard who narrowed in on him immediately. “Hey, do you hear that fire alarm? That means you’re supposed to be outside.”

“I just had to use the bathroom…” Ranboo mumbled awkwardly, trying to avoid the sharp gaze of Schlatt Madsen—who very obviously thought he was up to something.

Which, in his defense, Ranboo technically was. But he was still in the right for saving someone from getting shot, though that didn’t exactly sound like a credible excuse given the time travel.

Schlatt’s gaze was unrelenting as Ranboo tried not to fold in on himself, awkwardly shuffling away. “Freaks like you always use that excuse.”

“...I’m sorry, excuse for what, exactly?” Confused and trying to push down what was left of his whirlwind of panic, Ranboo gave him the most innocent eyes he could muster.

“For whatever the fuck you're up to. Your face is covered in guilt.”

Ahh yes, guilt. That’s the word for this immense panic-induced adrenaline rush I’m feeling after seeing some guy get shot in a bathroom and learning I can potentially rewind time.

“The alarm freaked me out!” He tried to defend, only for Schlatt to take several steps towards him in a rather threatening manner. He felt himself stumbling back every time Schlatt got closer, trying to keep distance between them.

“Then hurry up and get out of here, kid. Or are you trying to hide something?”

“Thank you, Mr. Madsen, but the situation is under control.” The booming voice of the Assistant Dean of the Admissions Office Raymond Wells came from down the hall, giving Ranboo a much needed spike of relief. He’d met Wells when he started the semester no more than a month ago, but the aura of authority he carried could clearly calm the situation down. “There's no emergency here, so stop harassing students and please go turn off the alarm, since that's your job.”

Schlatt’s nasty glare didn’t temper at all even as he swept it over Wells, turning and stalking off down the hall to leave Ranboo and the assistant dean alone.

“You look a little stressed out. Are you okay?” Wells asked, Ranboo swallowing down the intimidation he felt as the alarm continued to blare.

“I'm just… a little worried about my… future.” He stumbled out dumbly, his panic only rising as he couldn’t quite figure out what to say.

“You're sweating pinballs. Is that all you're thinking about? You can always be upfront with me, Ranboo.” Hearing his name on Well’s tongue was rather uncomfortable, and left an odd taste lingering in his mouth as he tried to swallow down his nerves for a second time. “Or have you done something wrong? Is that it? Either way, talk to me.”

It couldn’t hurt to tell him, right?

“Well, you see, I… I just saw another student waving a gun around in the bathroom.” Ranboo explained, the heavy weight in his chest lifting a little at the concern that crossed Wells’ face.

“Do you know who that student was?” “Yeah, I… I recognized him. Wilbur Soot.”

“...Wilbur Soot? Are you sure?” The weight returned at full force at Wells’ borderline skeptical look, seeming to be mulling something over in his head.

“Yeah. He came into the bathroom babbling like crazy, and then I saw that he had a gun and—!” Ranboo quickly continued, Wells eventually shaking his head and cutting him off before he could properly start to ramble.

“Okay, slow down, slow down.” Wells’ smile wasn’t terribly genuine, fear spiking in his gut as he realized he was too deep into the conversation to back out now. “So now you saw this… without him seeing you?”

“What? Yeah, I wasn’t going to let some crazy dude with a gun see me. I was hiding behind a stall.” Ranboo frowned as he realized he was now on the defense, annoyance starting to eat away at his panic. “It’s a public space so there’s nothing wrong with me being in there, I mean, it’s just a bathroom—”

“I know, I know. I just want to be completely clear on what happened.” Wells sighed—as if bothered by Ranboo’s attempts to explain himself. “Mr. Soot happens to be from the town's most distinguished family, and one of Blackwell's most honored students. So it's hard for me to see him brandishing a weapon in the bathroom. What happened next?”

“Then… then he left.” Ranboo finished weakly, Wells’ hard gaze killing what was left of his resolve to get Wilbur in trouble. “I ran out here wondering what to do because that alarm went off. Are you gonna bust him?”

“This is a serious charge. I'll look into the matter personally. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” Wells then turned to leave, Ranboo stepping after him in a now fully angry disbelief.

“Wait, that's it? After what I told you, all you’re gonna do is—?”

“We'll continue this discussion, later, in my office.” Wells was clearly done listening, putting a hand up to cut off Ranboo’s indignant questions. “Please go outside with the rest of the students now, Ranboo.”

You have got to actually be kidding me…

Shoulders slumping in defeat and annoyance, Ranboo slowly trailed outside just in time for the alarm to finally shut off. He was quick to push open the front doors, only to find Minx and her group of friends sitting on the stairs and completely blocking his way out of the building.

This day just keeps getting worse. Should’ve stayed in bed, I guess.

“Ew, girls, nerd alert! Class suck-up and photo creep Ranboo, coming through.” Minx teased with a smirk, carefully placing herself in front of him as he tried to just push past the girls to leave. She crossed her arms, letting her two friends box him in on both sides as he sighed and resigned himself to whatever insults she had this time. “No one likes a fuckin’ teacher’s pet. Even Mark—I mean, Mr. Jefferson can see through your weird emo loner bullshit. ‘Is it… The Daguerreian Process, sir?’ No one likes a know-it-all.”

Ranboo resisted the urge to pull out his phone to start scrolling, completely bored of her antics.

“Doesn’t help that you’re friends with that crazy horny fuckboy, whatever his name is. Takes a creep to know one, aye?”

Despite his best attempts to keep himself calm, he couldn’t help but bristle at the comment on behalf of his friend. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Minx.”

“Oooh, did I hit a nerve, bitch boy?” She grinned, entirely unfazed by his comment. If anything, it egged her on to continue, “You look soooo mad, I should grab a pic so you can add it to your collection. You seem pretty shy for someone who’ll interrupt class to take pictures of their face. Is the mask ‘cause you’re fuckin’ ugly? Sparing the rest of us from having to see you?” The grin split her face nearly in half as she noticed the way one of his hands clenched into a fist around the strap of his bag, still glaring. “Oh! That gives me an idea! Why don’t you go fuck your selfie?”

Her and her friends laughed mockingly before parting enough to let him break through their wall, a bubbling anger just beneath the surface of his skin that had him glancing around for any opportunity at petty revenge.

His steps stalled as he noticed a sprinkler that started in the nearby greenery—under a large set of scaffolding that held a kindly janitor he recognized, who was climbing up a ladder to continue painting the front of the building—that almost hit the concrete front steps Minx and her friends had gone back to sitting on.

I bet I could do something with that.

Glancing around with his eyes to make sure no one was watching him as he approached the sprinkler, he reached his hand out forward and let the weird rush of rewinding time blur around him. Resisting the pull that would move him physically, he only let it go back a few seconds before letting the world come back into focus so he could crouch down in front of the sprinkler.

“Now, how to make this shoot out far enough to drench Minx…”

Quickly deciding the mechanism on top was too difficult to figure out, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching again and instead just dragged it out of its spot to position it much closer to the front steps on a slight angle aiming straight for the girls on the stairs.

Ranboo jogged out of the way with a grin just as it turned on, watching the water start spraying out wildly and, as intended, completely douse the three girls lounging there.

“Ugh, what the fuck?! Are you kiddin’? Look at this!” Minx complained loudly, running off the steps and starting to wring out her sweater with a sneer.

“Chill, Minx, it’s just water.” One of the two girls—QT, his brain supplied—tried to pacify only to be met with a huff of annoyance.

“Yeah, water on my cashmere!” Minx growled, shoving both of her friends away. “Do you know how much this fuckin’ outfit costs?” “But you still look… great!” QT tried, only for Minx to screech and walk away from the two as she tried to wipe as much water off of herself as she could.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! Someone get me some towels or something!”

Ranboo lit up with an idea the instant he saw her standing directly below the paint bucket the janitor was painting from, grinning to himself as he reached out a hand to rewind back to when he was messing with the sprinkler. As time righted itself around him he was ready, tipping the sprinkler over with more ease than last time, before pulling out the wire handle of the paint bucket still on the ground and backed away as the janitor picked it up and the sprinkler prepared to go off.

Getting his camera out of his bag and waiting, Ranboo wasn’t disappointed as the sprinkler went off the same way and Minx cried out, whining again.

“Ugh, what the fuck?! Are you kiddin’? Look at this!”

Ignoring the idle chatter of the girls, he waited patiently with camera in hand below the scaffolding for her to pace beneath the bucket once again.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! Someone get me some towels or something!”

Lining up the shot, Ranboo’s timing was spot on as he lightly kicked the scaffolding when the janitor hung the paint bucket up, the busted handle giving way and the paint sloshing down to land directly on Minx’s head in a splatter of off-white.

“No way! No fuckin’ way!” Minx screamed again, Ranboo ducking out from under the scaffolding to triumphantly watch the mess from a little further away. “You okay, Minx?” QT asked in a panic, the other girl with them running off to head back into the building.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, mate. You alright?” The janitor scrambled down the ladder with an apologetic smile, grabbing for the bucket that was now rolling away. Ranboo vaguely recognized the man, reading the name ‘Phil’ off of his outfit. “Paint’s one of those things we like to keep out of hair, yeah?”

“Ugh! Get the hell away from me, weirdo!” Minx shook her head, spraying a little paint by accident as Ranboo snapped a picture from afar and finally burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you’d like me to. Have fun handling that by yourself then, mate.” Phil didn’t even bother with her, turning his back as she screamed incoherently, turning and storming off.

“Hold on, hold on, let’s get you to the dorms!” QT ran after her friend, Ranboo shaking out the photo of his prank.

“That’s what you get for talking about Tubbo, you stuck-up jerk.” As soon as the photo was clear, he tucked it away in his journal and headed on his usual path to the parking lot outside of Posvar, realizing Crumb’s class was probably already out and he was running late.

Taking a shortcut through the nearby park to get the adjacent building faster, he paused as he saw a guy tossing a kickball around by himself get a text on his phone and suddenly yell, “Man, fuck this shit!” before hurling the ball in a random direction.

Ranboo stood still as he watched the ball careen through the air before hitting its mark: his friend Charlie’s nose.

“Ow! Fuck, that hurt!” Charlie dropped the book he was reading on the nearby bench he was seated on, his hands going up to cover his face with a grimace.

Thinking quickly, Ranboo reached his hand out to let time spin backwards, just long enough for him to get a warning to Charlie before the ball almost broke his nose for a second time.

The moment things were clear around him again, he heard the guy with the ball yelling in frustration, so he called loudly, “Charlie, move your head!”

“Huh? I mean, sure…” Charlie looked up from his book, tilting his head to one side just in time for the ball to fly past him. His eyes widened in surprise, turning to face Ranboo with a startled smile. “Oh, shit! Thanks dude!”

I’m getting good at this!

Ranboo’s satisfaction lasted for only a moment, it all disappearing in the sound of shattering glass. Ranboo, Charlie, and the guy who threw the ball all looked over at the same time, seeing the shattered back window of the Fine Arts building where the ball had finally landed.

Whistling lowly, impressed, Ranboo left his camera in his bag and instead used his phone to snap a picture of the broken glass, intending to show it to Crumb as soon as he met up with her.

Right, Crumb!

He urged himself to pick up the pace, jogging across the weaving sidewalks to see how fast he could make it to Posvar. After finally passing through the gates to the parking lot, Ranboo paused as he heard not very well hushed yelling from around a corner of the building. Instantly curious, he felt himself start to drift in that direction, catching the tail end of what looked to be Schlatt towering over a student.

“—so don't think I'm blind! I see every single thing that goes on here at Blackwell!” Ranboo peeked further around the corner, the tufts of familiar brown hair poking out from behind the back of Schlatt’s security uniform causing him to pull out his camera and aim a shot down the thin road. “Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

“No way, man! Leave me alone!” Tubbo managed to shove Schlatt pretty hard, but the older man barely budged. Luckily, it was enough that Ranboo got a pretty clear shot of Schlatt reaching down to grab at one of Tubbo’s arms.

Tossing the camera and freshly printed photo into his bag in a flurry, Ranboo emerged from around the corner and jogged towards the two. “Hey! He asked you to leave him alone, or are you having trouble hearing?”

“Excuse us, this is official campus business—” Schlatt started, the distraction allowing Tubbo to pull away from him with an exasperated glare.

“Well, excuse me, but you shouldn't be yelling at students, or bullying them.” Ranboo crossed his arms, Schlatt scoffing as he decided to quickly add on, “Jerk.”

“Hey, hey, nobody is bullying anybody. I'm just doing my job.” Schlatt was visibly tense with anger, his jaw clenched as Tubbo slowly inched further away from him.

“Yeah, right, sorry. I forgot that ‘harassing students’ was in a security guard’s job description.”

“You're part of the problem, young man.” Schlatt cast one last glance at Tubbo before aggressively pointing in Ranboo’s face. “I will remember this conversation.”

Without another word, he turned and stormed off back towards the back door of the building, disappearing into one of the doors after swiping his ID. As soon as he was out of sight the tension in Tubbo’s shoulders eased, the uncharacteristic tiredness from earlier seeping back into his expression. “Geez… Thanks, Ranboo, that was awesome! I think you scared him for once…” He smiled for only a moment before it dropped again, glancing around almost worriedly. “I, um, I have to go, but thank you. It means a lot.”

“Anytime, Tubbo.” Ranboo supplied in a tone he hoped didn’t betray his concern, Tubbo walking off and leaving him to pull the photo out of his bag and check to make sure the shot was clear.

What in the world was that all about? And what’s going on with Tubbo? I thought he was just tired, but this isn’t like him at all…

Tucking the newly developed photo into another page in his journal, he figured he could worry about it later and pulled out his phone as he backtracked towards the parking lot.

——

From: Crumb :D Hey, where are you? D:

You aren’t in the parking lot yet D:

To: Crumb :D Sorry! I’m running late ):

I’m on my way

I’ll explain in a sec I promise!

From: Crumb :D Hurry ):< !!

I’m waiting ):< !!

——

Tucking his phone away and picking up the pace, Ranboo ducked around the corner at the back of the building to make it to the parking lot. He looked around for a few moments before he spotted Crumb hovering over her own phone and clearly waiting for him.

“Crumb, hey!” Ranboo called, his shoulders sagging in relief upon seeing his friend sitting on the curb and waiting for him.

“Ranboo!” She bolted to her feet, opening her arms wide for a hug as he approached. He laughed quietly, bending down to give the much smaller girl the biggest hug he could muster.

She grinned as they pulled away, sitting side by side on the curb again. The Hawaiian patterned shirt she had on was large enough the short sleeves almost reached her elbows, the large excess at the bottom tucked into her shorts. Her smile was bright, the short ponytail keeping chestnut hair out of her face even as it whipped back and forth as she cheered excitedly, “I was waiting for you for so long! What kept you, jerk?”

“Sorry.” He apologized sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s just… it’s been one of those days, you know?”

“Are you okay? Do you need to talk about anything that happened?” She instantly asked, her brown eyes blowing wide with concern. “I’m always here to listen.”

“Yeah, I guess I should air some of it out.” Ranboo slowly lowered himself down backwards until he was lying mostly in the grass, Crumb mimicking his movements a moment later. “Sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not! The doctor is in!” Crumb cheered, throwing one of her arms over Ranboo’s shoulders with a wide grin. “Dr. Crumb, at your service. Tell me everything, Ran.”

Normally her antics would have cheered him up, but the heavy sense of dread in his stomach that thinking about the dream brought him left him sighing and pulling away from her. “I will, just… do you mind if we keep anything I say between us?”

“Hey, don't insult me like that.” Crumb playfully frowned, before rolling over onto her side to see him better and encourage softly, “You know I can keep a secret. Go ahead.”

“It all started after I had this… completely insane and super freaky vivid dream in Mr. Jefferson's class today. I mean, like… life changing, or something.” Ranboo felt an odd rush of relief as he voiced it aloud, Crumb listening intently from beside him. “Like… Have you ever had a dream so real that it felt like a movie?”

“Like… lucid dreaming?” Crumb asked, earning a soft headshake.

“I mean maybe, but it was more like—” Ranboo’s explanation trailed off as he saw Wilbur marching towards where he and Crumb were lying. All words about the strange dream were suddenly stuck in his throat, Crumb giving him a concerned look before they both sat up to face Wilbur as he rather angrily addressed them.

“Ranboo, right?” Wilbur didn’t even give Ranboo a moment to nod, adding on, “You're one of Jefferson's photo fucks?”

Crumb started to stand and get between the two boys only to be lightly shoved off to the side, Ranboo watching nervously. “...I'm one of Mr. Jefferson’s students, yes.”

“Oh, who gives a shit? I know you like to take pictures, especially when you're hiding out in bathrooms.”

Ranboo’s stomach twisted into painful knots as Wilbur glowered down at him, a smug confidence painted across his face.

Did he see me or something? How’d he know?!

“It’s in your best interest to tell me what you told Wells. Now.”

“Hey man, there’s no need to get so worked up.” Putting his hands up in defense, Ranboo tried his best to defuse the tension as Crumb bristled beside him. “All I did was tell him the truth. A student had a gun.”

“No, you told him I had a gun.” Wilbur stepped forward threateningly, Ranboo scrambling up to his feet and back over the curb with Crumb quick to follow. “That's why he dragged me into his office.”

“And what did he do? Give you a stern lecture?” The bitter laugh that followed Ranboo’s joke seemed to go over Wilbur’s head, who was ignoring him in favor of mumbling to himself angrily.

“Nobody… Nobody lectures me. Everybody tries, though. They try…”

Something about Wilbur’s words had Ranboo backing up even further, moving slower in an attempt to keep Wilbur from thinking he was trying to run away—as true as that may have been. “I know that we’re not like friends or anything, but I’d like to politely suggest as one of your peers that maybe, just maybe, you should find someone to talk to.”

“What? You think you got some sort of read on me? Don’t psychoanalyze me! I pay people for that.” There was no time for either Ranboo or Crumb to laugh at the accidental hilarity of Wilbur’s raving as he strode over to where they’d backed up to, one foot balanced on the crumbling curb. “Worry about yourself right now.”

“Whoa, hey. Personal space, man. I’ve got a big bubble, yaknow? How about we respect that?” The downright murderous air around Wilbur had words spilling out of Ranboo’s mouth before he could stop himself, anxiety churning in his stomach.

Oh please don’t let me get into a fight here, he’d so kick my ass even if he’s just as stupidly lanky as I am—!

“Oh man, that’s rich. You're telling me what to do?”

Wilbur’s proximity was suddenly too close, Crumb finally balling her hands into fists and stepping fully between the two and shoving the taller boy as hard as she could. “Come on, get away from him, Wilbur!”

Wilbur barely budged, instead slamming his head down to smack into hers, knocking her back to the grass outside the lot with a quiet cry. The panic in Ranboo’s stomach was the only thing preventing him from throwing a punch, instead reaching down to help his friend while irately demanding, “Hey! You leave her alone!”

“Nobody tells me what to do!” Wilbur lunged forward before Ranboo had moved more than a step, his wide swinging arm not aimed for Ranboo’s face but instead the collar of his hoodie as he yanked him down to make—quite frankly, terrifying—eye contact and continue his rant. “Not my parents, not the principal, and definitely not that dumbass from the bathroom!”

Already off balance, Ranboo was pretty easily thrown forward far enough to land face first against the pavement of the parking lot, his hands coming up just in time to catch him on the gravel as Wilbur hovered above him to contemplate his next move. The instant he hit the ground; however, everything suddenly blurred alongside the loud screeching of tires, a truck stopping less than 6 inches from running him over as Wilbur shouted another string of curses. Using the—thankfully—still cool hood of the truck, Ranboo managed to pull himself back up to his feet in the moment of confusion, leaning on his arms on the hood, before making eye contact with the driver. The two stared in a moment of recognition, silence hanging around everyone until the driver finally—

“Ranboo?” “Bill?”

What’s Bill doing here? I haven't seen him in— Wait, was that him in the—?!

The staring match—and Ranboo’s insane swirling thoughts—were cut off by an enraged, “No way… you again?!” from Wilbur, who was glaring daggers through the windshield.

IT WAS?!

“Ranboo, get in!” Bill finally broke eye contact, sliding across the front seat as far as he could to throw the passenger door open, motioning at him frantically.

At some point in the hubbub, Crumb had gotten back to her feet, squaring up against Wilbur as she called, “Go! I got this!”

“You most certainly do not!” Bill accurately assessed from inside the truck, the girl deflating a little. “You get in, too!”

Ranboo didn’t need any more prompting to jump through the open passenger door and motion for Crumb to follow, making room for her at the edge of the seat. “Come on, Crumb!”

The instant Crumb climbed in and shut the door of the truck Bill took off again, Wilbur managing to dive out of the way just in time as the truck swerved towards him before speeding out of the parking lot.

“Aw shit, I missed!” Bill lamented, watching Wilbur graciously flip the three off through the rearview mirror and chuckling a little before letting the truck lapse into an awkward silence that was only broken by dropping Crumb off at the dorms.

“I’ll text you later.” Ranboo promised as Crumb hopped down from the seat, smiling up at him. “Take care of that head, okay?”

“Okay! See you soon.” She waved a little before jogging off down the sidewalk, wobbling a little. Bill waited until she was completely out of sight before driving off again wordlessly, eyes glued to the road in front of the two instead of saying anything.

“Alright, the silence is finally starting to get to me. Are we going to talk about it?” Ranboo blurted out after a minute, Bill uncomfortably shifting in the driver’s seat.

“Talk about what? I can’t think of anything.” Bill’s lie was awkward even to his own ears, him refusing to look away from the windshield as Ranboo sighed heavily.

“Come on, Bill, it's—” Ranboo suddenly cut himself off, hearing a familiar beat humming quietly through the truck speakers. “Is that ‘Eighth Wonder’?”

“Whoa, no, nope. Not even a little bit.” Bill cranked the volume down, but was a moment too late to stop Ranboo from grabbing his phone from one of the two cup holders, clicking the screen on to see—

“It is!” Ranboo smacked Bill’s hands away as he quickly guessed Bill’s passcode, going to his Spotify while pointing the other boy's attention back to the road. “You're listening to the playlist I sent you the other week! Are you serious? You’ve been practically MIA online for six months but you still have time for my music recommendations?!”

“I've been fuckin’ busy, alright?!” Bill exploded, the truck rolling to a stop on the side of a nearly deserted road. He then put them into park, finally turning to properly face his friend. “I'm sorry I haven't said much, but there's been… things, and shit… going on here. And we haven't exactly seen each other in a while.”

“I know, I know.” Ranboo sighed, running a hand back through his hair to keep the long bangs out of his eyes. “I just thought you'd be a little happier to see me. I waited 5 years to apply to Blackwell and move back here, but you seemed… less than thrilled I would be back here when I told you.”

“Sorry for wanting better for you than this shithole.” Bill crossed his arms, huffing. “But I am glad to see you, honestly. It's been too long. Your parents kinda sprung that move on us with no time to argue.”

“Yeah…” The familiar tense silence lapsed back into the truck, before Ranboo smirked and turned the volume on the stereo back up. “But at least you're still aware that I have the best music taste of anyone, ever.”

Bill groaned, thudding his head into the steering wheel. “Oh god, you're never gonna let this go, are you?”

“Absolutely never.”

Bill rolled his eyes at Ranboo’s grin, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. “Um, is your friend going to be alright? She took a hell of a smackdown.”

“Crumb?” Ranboo asked, pulling his phone out to see a thumbs up text from the named brunette meaning she'd made it to her dorm. “Yeah, she’ll be alright. I totally owe her for that; Wilbur’s actually insane.”

“Any idea what he wanted from you?” Bill asked, glancing over at him as they merged onto the freeway. “Or was he just kicking your ass for fun?”

“Well, hopefully he doesn't want anything else after today.” Ranboo shrugged evasively, adjusting the bag between his feet. “How do you know him?”

“Oh, you know. He's just another one of those Arcadia assholes.” Bill dismissed, neither pressing on the way they both dodged instead of answering. “So… you get into that photography class you were rambling about when you applied? Jeff… Jefferson? Is that his name?”

“Mark Jefferson, yeah. I'm super excited to be one of his students. It's only been a few weeks but it's already my favorite class I've ever taken.”

“Then I'm glad. Semester been okay so far?”

“Yeah, think so.” Ranboo shrugged, opening his bag and digging around for his camera. “Today’s just one of those super weird off days, you know?”

“Yeah, it's the same for me.”

“Aw man, it's freakin’ busted.” Ranboo whined, carefully picking through the shattered pieces of the camera in his bag.

“Oh, it'll be fine. My step-dad has an assload of tools. Maybe you can fix it when we get to my place.”

“Okay, but I'd need very specific and very tiny tools.” Ranboo argued, before pausing and backtracking, “Wait, what do you mean ‘when we get to my place’?”

“You didn't say you needed to be anywhere, and between the five years you've been away from Arcadia and the six months I've been an unreachable jackass, I just kinda figured that um, maybe we could… catch up? Hang out? Talk?”

Ranboo glanced between his friend's hopeful smile, the speeding greenery outside the window, and the broken camera in his lap before nodding a little. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Epic!!” Bill cheered, taking the next exit and relaxing into his seat. “And, for what it's worth, Ran… welcome home.”

Ranboo couldn’t help but smile at his friend even as his focus shifted back to the road, keeping a careful eye on the streets before pulling back into a still familiar driveway. Shutting the truck off and getting out, Bill waited until Ranboo was down before heading up to the front door.

“Well, here we are. Home, shit, home.” Bill grinned at his own joke, earning a quiet chuckle for his effort as he unlocked and pushed open the front door. “Come on in, don't be shy.”

“Wow, this place really looks the same. It’s… nice.” Ranboo commented, looking around the porch and up to the second story window above the garage.

Nothing here has changed at all.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Who says you can’t be both?” Ranboo smirked, before gesturing at Bill—who was currently standing in the doorway and barring them both from entry. “Am I allowed inside or what?”

“Shit, yeah. Whoops.” Bill laughed quietly, heading inside and starting to head up the steps immediately to his left. “Just don’t take your shoes off til we get upstairs.”

The request was a little odd but Ranboo followed nonetheless, climbing up the carpeted stairs and rounding the top landing corner behind Bill to step into his room.

“Wow. Talk about a blast from the past.” Ranboo was impressed: nearly everything looked exactly the same as when he was last here. The bed pushed up against the wall by the window, a small desk covered in sprawling pages, and the floor completely covered in a mix of dirty and clean clothes. “I leave for 5 years and you don’t even change your sheets?” Bill went bright red in the face, tugging his comforter up further to try and hide the patterned blue sheets from view. “Hey! I’ve washed them since, at least once!”

“That’s disgusting! Why would I ever agree to follow you in here?” The teasing banter flowed between them again effortless, both of them laughing before Ranboo trailed off as he noticed a new corkboard above Bill’s desk that held a good half a dozen printed pictures. “Those photos are new, though. Did I really rub off on you?”

“Oh! I guess you could say that.” Bill plopped down into his desk chair, waving his hands in the air in front of the board. “After you left, I started to understand why you always lug that camera around. Figured I’d give it a shot, even if I’m still pretty bad at it.”

“Um, do you mind if I’m a little nosy, just for a second?” Hesitant to approach, Ranboo gave Bill an awkward smile and glanced at the photos with his eyes.

“Can’t say no to you, my old but now new again friend.” Bill rolled his chair away from the desk, allowing Ranboo to approach and get a good view of each of the slightly blurry shots.

“Who’s that?” Ranboo asked after a moment, his gaze catching on an unfamiliar blond boy with an arm slung over a slightly younger Bill’s shoulders, the selfie angle a little awkward but managing to get the two grinning boys in frame. “I feel like I’ve seen his face before, but I can’t place it.”

“Oh.” Silence hung heavy for a long moment, before Bill finally sighed and got up from his seat. “Uh… his name’s Tommy. I’m sure I mentioned him a lot, he kinda… filled the void after you had to move. Haven’t heard anything from him in a while though.”

“Oh, geez. My bad, I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject like that.” Ranboo instantly apologized, grabbing his friend’s closest shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “You okay?”

“Dunno. It’s been 6 months. I’m mostly just mad, I think.” Bill accepted the gentle squeeze with a smile, pulling the tack out of the photo to hold it in his hands. “If he was going somewhere he’d have said something, I know it. But the fucker just said he ‘met someone who changed his life’ and then vanished.”

He’s the kid from the missing poster I saw earlier back at school…

“That’s really weird. I just wish you’d told me.” Ranboo left Bill alone to stare wistfully down at the photo, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and taking his bag off to set it on the floor. “I’ve been worried about you for ages now, and I would’ve listened if you wanted to talk about him.”

“Ah yes, tell my best friend who had to leave about the best friend who took his place.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on either of them, Bill rolling his eyes before continuing, “It felt, I don’t know, weird or some shit like that. Without you, it was just the two of us here. We were gonna kick this world’s ass together, you know? He couldn’t have been more different from you.”

“I get it. At least, I think.” Pulling up one of his legs onto the edge of the bed to begin unlacing his converse, Ranboo gave Bill the most apologetic look he could muster while looking around his knee. “Just wish I could’ve been there for you when you needed it.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Tugging one of his shoes off and moving to the other, Ranboo awkwardly tried to shift the subject to literally anything else. “...you said something about tools to fix my camera?”

“Yeah! They’re in the garage, I’ll help you look.” Bill seemed relieved to be chatting about something else, kicking his own sneakers off and leaving them by the door before grabbing Ranboo by the arm and dragging him back down the steps.

The awkwardness of catching up melted away as the two chatted away in the garage, hunting around a poorly painted workbench for the camera tools Bill knew were hidden in there somewhere. The instant the small set was untucked from the back corner it’d been pushed into, Bill whooped and cheered in success while Ranboo tried to shove him away playfully.

The two then rushed back upstairs, Bill spreading the tools out onto his desk—after carefully moving his laptop away—while Ranboo picked out all the camera pieces from his bag.

Bill lounged on his bed after putting the spotify playlist from the car back on, scrolling idly on his phone while Ranboo carefully fiddled with the broken camera on the desk.

Eventually, Ranboo tossed the tools down and leaned back as far as the chair would let him, visibly frustrated. Bill was quick to stand up and look at the wreckage over his shoulder, curiously asking, “So?”

“I officially give up. I don’t think I can fix this thing.”

“Whoa hey, you still keep up that photo journal?” Bill suddenly jumped subjects, noticing the notebook poking out of Ranboo’s now open bag. “‘Course you do, stupid question. Mind if I take a look?”

“Yeah, go for it.” Ranboo pushed back from the desk a little, still glaring at the remains of his camera as Bill pulled the journal out and began excitedly flipping through pages.

“Hell yeah! Let me see… These are awesome!” As Bill was scanning over every page, a few of the recent and unsecured photos slipped out of the later pages, Bill apologizing and setting the journal down to pick them up. Ranboo also bent down to pick them up, but froze as Bill was staring intently at the butterfly picture from the bathroom. “Wait, isn’t this… one of the bathrooms at Blackwell?”

“Huh?” Ranboo chuckled nervously, snatching the photo away from him and starting to find the blank page it’d been tucked into again. “Ah! I mean, uh, yeah. Took that today or whatever.”

Bill watched his friend’s flustered face for a long moment before something started to dawn on him, his eyes widening. “...did you pull the fire alarm? Were you in the bathroom with us? Is that why Wilbur tried to beat your ass in the parking lot?!”

“...maybe?” The offer sounded weak even to Ranboo’s own ears, holding the journal up in front of his face to hopefully block even some of his embarrassment and panic from view. “Look, it was an accident and I wasn't trying to interrupt or anything but I was already in there and then Wilbur just came in and—”

“You saved my life, Ran!” The journal was knocked out of Ranboo’s hands as Bill lunged forward, pulling him into a huge hug. “Thank fuckin’ hell you were there!”

“...oh.” Ranboo froze for a moment, before slowly hugging Bill back and then pulling away. “I mean, I didn't really do much… I just took a picture of a butterfly and hid in the corner.”

“Ninja Ranboo, coming through!” Bill jumped back to his feet, posing goofily as Ranboo rolled his eyes and went to pick his journal up again.

“Oh come on, a ninja would've cut Wilbur's head off. I just took a picture and hid!” After making sure all the photos were back in their place, Ranboo set it on the desk to keep it from being knocked around any further. “My heart full on stopped when I saw that he had a gun.”

“Wait, did you recognize me?”

“Not really… You look a little different than when we were 13.” Ranboo shook his head, pulling his hoodie a little tighter around him as the memory of seeing Bill shot flashed through his mind. “I was also so terrified I couldn’t see straight… Wilbur’s completely off the rails.”

“Whoa, I’m not mad or anything. Like you said, it’s one of those days.” Sitting back on the bed, it was Bill’s turn to look nervous as he asked, “So how much of what we said did you overhear?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s not like it all made much sense to me anyway. All I got was something about money and drugs.” Ranboo shrugged, tugging on his hoodie strings to keep his hands occupied. “It’s a bit of a blur after he pulled the gun out, but I ran into one of the guys from Admissions who happened to be in the building to report Wilbur, but…”

“Well first of all, I’m so fucking glad you’re alright.”

“I should be saying that to you…” An odd sense of relief coursed through him upon hearing his friend’s concern, watching the way his shoulders also finally slacked a little. “Hell of a way to meet again.”

“You can say that again.” Bill turned the music down on his laptop, very interested in the screen and refusing to make eye contact as he mumbled, “I’ll, uh, tell you more about that mess with Wilbur later, alright?”

“Only if you want to.” Ranboo said gently, packing up the tools on the desk and brushing his camera parts into a pile. “I know things aren’t what they used to be.”

“Well one thing I’m sure hasn’t changed is your birthday. That’s coming up, right? I’m like two months off, but it still counts.” Bill was off the bed in a blink, digging around underneath it until he finally found the box he was looking for, blowing some dust off the top and opening it. “Here. It’s my mom’s camera. If you can’t fix yours, I’d like you to have this.”

Ranboo instantly shied away from the open shoe box as Bill presented it to him proudly. “Bill, there’s no way I could take this…”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I know my mom would be pissed if I never used it, so maybe she’ll rest a little easier with it in the hands of the king of photography.”

“But it’s still too much, you really should keep something like that.” Ranboo tried again, but his friend huffed loudly and clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Can’t I give my best friend something important to me?” Bill shook the box in his face one more time, before sighing and setting it in his lap and picking up the photo journal. “Fine, if you’re going to whine I’ll take that butterfly picture as compensation. How’s that?” “I… If you really insist.” Ranboo was too busy staring down at the camera in the box to care about Bill flipping through the pages to hunt for that specific picture. “This camera is really amazing, Bill.”

“Then I’m glad it’s in your professional hands instead of my clumsy ones.” Bill finally pulled out the shot of the butterfly, beaming all the while.

“Thanks. It really means a lot.” Ranboo carefully turned it on—surprised it was still in perfect working order, with film in the back and everything—before quickly turning to snap a candid shot of Bill grinning down at the photo in his hands. Bill looked up, surprised, as he heard it whir to life, but Ranboo blocked his view of the snapshot as he cradled it in his hands and waited for it to develop.

He made sure to stick his tongue out for good measure.

The moment was over as swiftly as it began, the front door to the house slamming open and a loud voice yelling from downstairs, “Hey! Bill! Are you up there?!”

Is that… Schlatt? Like security guard from school Schlatt?

“Oh, fuck.” Bill paled, quickly pulling a very confused Ranboo to his feet before shouting back, “Depends! What do you want?!”

“I'm coming up, we need to talk!”

That’s definitely Schlatt… Wait, does that mean he’s Bill’s step-dad?!

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Bill had started to panic, Ranboo sharing in the feeling at least a little bit. “You really should hide. My step-dad will freak out if he sees you.”

Bill then ran to the door, slamming it closed as it started to open, wrestling to keep it in the frame long enough to lock it as he gestured with his head for Ranboo to hurry up.

“Bill? What's going on? Open your door, please.” Schlatt sounded exhausted, trying the handle several times before giving up and knocking.

“Ugh, dude, I'm changing! Is that not okay?!” Bill complained loudly, before lowering his voice to a hushed whisper to half-yell, “Ran, find a place to hide, now!”

Ranboo finally spotted two solid closet doors, yanking them open and sighing in relief as there was just enough space between the walls and the excess amounts of clothes for him to fit inside and be out of view.

“Bill, what are you doing?”

“Didn’t I already say? I'm coming!” Bill eyed Ranboo squeezing into the closet, still pressing up against the door, seemingly in case Schlatt decided to try and bust it down.

“No, you're stalling.” Ranboo could easily picture the way Schlatt was impatiently tapping his foot from the other side as he finally pulled the closet doors shut. The slats in the door had just enough space between them that he could see out, watching as Bill continued to argue loudly through the door.

“I'm changing! Gimme a minute!”

“Don't be a smartass, just let me in. Now, please.” Schlatt knocked again, much louder than before as his agitation grew.

“Can you give me a fuckin’ second?!” Bill knocked back just as loud, checking to make sure Ranboo was hidden before making a last minute decision and kicking his shoes under the bed. “I'm not screwin' around here. Open this door.” Before Schlatt could knock again, Bill unlocked the door and yanked it open with a little more force than necessary. “Now was that so hard?”

“What do you want, jackass?” Bill crossed his arms, not moving away from the door to keep Schlatt blocked in the doorway.

“I’ll be blunt.” Schlatt also crossed his arms, glaring down at Bill. “One of my guns is missing. Did you take it?”

“What? Why would I take one of your stupid guns?” Bill didn’t even seem bothered by the glare, easily keeping the intense eye contact as Ranboo felt himself have to look away. “I’ll have you know I’m a firm believer in gun control.”

“I’m not trying to be a hardass on purpose, Bill. But if you took the gun, I really need to know.” Schlatt tried again, an actual note of concern in his voice that seemed to momentarily break his normally pissy exterior. “You could get hurt or do something else equally as stupid.”

“I don’t want anything to do with your shit! You always grill me about this kinda stuff without any proof.” Bill didn’t seem to pick up on it—or at least, didn’t care to, trying to slam the door in Schlatt’s face.

“Clearly we can’t continue this conversation like adults.” Schlatt caught the door easily in one arm, leveraging it back open as Bill hissed and let go. “Just know I’ll be talking to your dad when he gets off work.”

“Oi! You leave him out of this!” Ready to throw a punch, Bill tried his best to keep his hands clenched at his sides as he yelled, “He deserves better than the likes of you!”

“Be happy that I’ll chalk this disrespect up to teenage rebellion and not because you have something to hide.” Schlatt ignored the clear threat, rolling his eyes and dismissively tipping his head back with a sigh. “Cause if you did steal it, I’ll find it.”

Clearly intending for that to be the last word, Schlatt then turned to leave and walked off down the hallway. Bill, clearly still pissed, shouted, “Yeah, and stay out!” after him, before slamming the door and going to throw himself onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.

Ranboo took the newfound silence as his cue to squeeze out of the closet, taking a seat beside his friend on the bed. “Geez, Bill, you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’s always like this.” Bill rolled over onto his back, glancing down at Ranboo with a weak smile. “I’m just glad he didn’t catch you in here.”

“He doesn’t like uninvited company?”

“You have no idea.” Bill sighed, before sitting up with a newly energized smile. “Hey, you wanna get out of here? Now that Schlatt’s here the peace is kinda ruined.” “Count me in.” Ranboo agreed, still feeling a little tense from all three of his encounters with Schlatt that were much too close together for his liking.

“Out the window?” Bill offered, going to open it as Ranboo dug under the bed for his abandoned shoes.

“It’ll be just like old times.” He grinned as his head popped back into view, then sitting himself down on the floor to put his shoes back on and pack up his bag.

No less than 20 minutes later the two teens broke through a clearing of trees, giggling as they raced to the top of a winding path through the forest to hit a rocky outcrop that overlooked most of Arcadia Bay.

“Welcome back to the coolest spot in town!” Bill cheered as they both stopped, equally as breathless from the run. “You remember the last time we were here? We had to hide up here for like three hours until those kids stopped chasing us!”

“Well, yeah! You popped their basketball after it hit you in the face! If we didn’t hide, you would’ve gotten your butt kicked!” Ranboo laughed between panted breaths, doubling over as he struggled to recover.

I really haven't been here in forever… So then why does it feel like I was just here?

He looked around in confusion, before the tall trees and the no longer distant figure of the lighthouse started shifting in his mind until—Wait… isn’t this the exact same path I was on when I had that crazy dream in Jefferson’s earlier?

It’s like I’m dreaming again, but… covered in less mud.

By the time he’d caught his breath again and managed to calm his heartbeat from both the run and the recollection of his nightmare, he looked up to realize Bill had already found a seat on a bench overlooking the cliff. The sun was finally setting, mild pinks and oranges painting the bottom of the pale blue sky, the distant trees making for a beautiful skyline as Bill was a perfectly positioned shadow in front.

Ranboo had the new camera out before he could even think about what he was doing, lining up the breathtaking shot and snapping it. He let the peace in the air be as the film developed, taking extra care to slide it into his journal before putting everything away and sitting down beside Bill to take in the sights properly.

“Sure you don't want some alone time?” Ranboo asked after a long moment, to which Bill was quick to shake his head and sling an arm over his shoulders.

“Nah. I just found you again, and I don’t intend on scaring you off that fast.”

“I’m glad you seem to be in a better mood now.” Ranboo smiled, still staring off at the sky but letting himself lean against his best friend, at least a little bit.

“Yeah, well, I'm out of that damn house and here with you.” Bill shrugged, also keeping his eyes on the sunset. “That’ll bring anyone’s spirits up in an instant.”

“Yeah… Schlatt's a pretty mean guy.”

Bill scoffed, leaning back a little further and tipping his head back to stare up at the darkened sky above. “I'm sorry you had to experience his wrath firsthand.”

“Okay, but you have to live with him.” Ranboo countered, carefully slipping his bag off of his shoulder to let it sit on the bench on his other side. “Has he always been like this?”

“Yeah, if you could believe it. Guess my dad was desperate if he’s all he could find here. I never really trusted him.”

“Makes me glad I got a snapshot of him flipping out on a friend of mine at school today.”

“Aw, yeah!” Bill cheered, sitting back up straight and adjusting so he was now facing Ranboo as best he could on the bench. “Maybe I can finally get Ludwig to ditch his ass if he sees what a dick he is.”

“Yeah. He’s got some kind of weird agenda.” Ranboo shrugged, pulling his feet up to sit criss-cross after a minute of struggling to get situated.

“He's got a load of secret files.” Bill glared off at nothing in particular, pulling only one of his legs up to help him sit at the odd angle. “Guess the fucker thinks he’s some sort of spy or something.”

“I hope you figure out whatever his deal is. He doesn’t seem like a good guy at all.”

“Just makes him one of many.” Silence fell again, but it was much less awkward this time even if tension still hung heavy in the boys’ shoulders. “There’s like three good people in this town, and you’re one of ‘em, along with your friend who took the heat in the parking lot.”

“And I’m assuming the last person on that list isn’t Wilbur?” Ranboo tried to joke, but the actual bubbling nerves caused it to come out a little strangled and awkward.

“Oh, not by a long shot.” Bill didn’t comment, choosing to mess with his hands in his lap instead of looking up. “He’s an elite asshole, and gets off selling bad shit to people who don’t know any better.” He snorted a little in disgust, before abruptly falling quiet and taking a long, deep breath before continuing, “And… he dosed me with some weird drug a couple nights ago.”

“Wait, what? Are you okay? What happened?!” Ranboo was quick to question, ducking his head to try and make eye contact with Bill—who kept staring rather resolutely at his lap.

“Look… I met with him in some shithole bar that didn’t card me. He was clearly too rich for the place and drunk off his ass.” His explanation was much quieter than his normal boisterous tone, but the only other noise on the outcrop was the quiet rustling of the late summer breeze. “It’s my fault. I thought he was absolutely plastered, and mistook him for an easy score.”

“...how much do you owe?”

“Three grand, give or take the interest. Otherwise known as a metric fuckton.” There was no humor in his voice, not even bothering to attempt a joke to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. “He must’ve slipped something into my drink when I was distracted. Next thing I know I passed out on the floor and woke up somewhere else. That dickhead was mumbling to himself, taking pictures of me with this insane grin. I almost managed to kick him in the nuts, but broke a lamp instead, which caused him to freak out. I was able to somehow force the door of that weird place open and get out, but it’s all fuzzy. It was fucking… awful, Ran, it was crazy. Like… what the actual hell?”

“I’m… really sorry. That’s horrible and I can’t believe something like that happened… I mean, I do believe you wholeheartedly, I just… you know what I mean.” Ranboo’s rapidly blossoming worry and panic had the ramble tumbling out of him before he could stop it, shaking his head before asking, “But then what was that meeting in the bathroom about?”

“Well, I figured I could make him pay me to keep quiet about the whole incident. He wanted to meet on campus, so I figured it was fine.”

“And he brought a gun?” Ranboo continued, though they both knew his question was entirely rhetorical. “So why didn’t you call the police? That’s… surely that’s grounds to get him arrested at the very least, if not—”

“It’s useless, man.” Bill cut him off, shaking his head with a sad sigh. “He’s got a powerful family and all that nasty shit.”

“But how are we supposed to deal with this by ourselves?!”

“I mean… we did. You were there. You saved my life!” Bill’s head shot up so fast Ranboo thought he heard the bones crack, grabbing for his friend’s hands with a small grin.

“Feels fated, somehow, that we ended up back together in such a messed up way.” Ranboo stared down at where his hands rested in Bill’s, blinking as he felt his eyes starting to unfocus a little.

“If there really is fate or destiny or whatever, I… hope that we end up finding Tommy. I really miss him, you know?” Bill was the first one to pull away, throwing both of his arms over the back of the bench and looking back up at nothing. “This shit-pit has taken away nearly everyone I’ve ever loved… I’d like to drop a fucking bomb on Arcadia Bay and turn it to glass!”

Ranboo’s brain was mush, any coherent response dying in his mouth as his vision began to swim before abruptly going black as he felt himself falling… asleep?

He shook his head to try and clear the sudden sleepiness, blinking his eyes open only to realize that he was no longer on the bench with Bill, but back at the bottom of the path up to the lighthouse in pouring rain.

Oh man, not again…!

Why the hell am I here again?! What’s happening?

The same urge to go up the path was present in his chest again, one of his hands coming up to shield his eyes as he spotted a deer running out of the treeline and stopping in front of him on the path. The two made eye contact for a moment, before a strange sensation—Follow me—washed over him. He couldn’t figure out what drew him forward as the deer trotted up the path, keeping it in his sights even as the howling wind threatened to knock him over as it bent trees on all sides of him.

By the time he and the deer made it to the top of the overlook, he turned his head to see the giant, dark gray tornado engulfing the town below—same as last time.

The tornado…! It’s back?! This can’t be real, there’s no way!

Ducking out of the way of small, falling debris, he saw the deer sniffing a piece of what looked to be newspaper that was caught against the side of a rather large rock at the base of the lighthouse. Ranboo quickly jogged over to the rock, pulling the paper off and clenching it tightly in his hands to try and get a read on it. The headline was too blurry for him to focus on, instead seeing the date of the paper seemingly highlighted in his vision.

“October eleventh…? That's this Friday!” Ranboo muttered aloud, losing his grip on it as it then fluttered away to join the oncoming storm below. “That's only four days away…”

Horror gripped at his heart, panic desperately clawing up his throat as the odd combination of realism meshed with the surreal feeling of the dream—no, vision—and the sinking weight in his stomach that threatened to rise out of him in a stream of vomit.

“Oh god…” He muttered, watching as the storm grew more violent, the high pitched whistling of the wind almost a scream as he realized—The tornado is headed straight for the town—!

In an instant there was the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder and the storm was gone, his vision blinking back to the bench he was still seated on, his head awkwardly bent forward as he tried to groggily sit up.

“Ran? Ran! What happened, are you okay?” Bill reached to cup his face, looking him over with worried eyes and a frantic tone. “You totally blacked out for a second there, scared the piss outta me!”

“Bill! You’re… you’re here. This is real…” Ranboo took a few deep breaths to ground himself, gripping the bench beneath him tightly. “I… I had this weird vision, thing. Another one, really. The whole town is going to be wiped out by a tornado!”

“Come on, Oregon gets like… 2 tornados in a century.” Bill laughed incredulously, trying to suppress his own panic as Ranboo started to deflate. “You spaced pretty hard. Maybe it was some kind of dream?”

“No, I… I saw it!” He tried again, his eyes pleading with his friend to understand the truth of whatever weird nightmare he’d just experienced. “I could feel the electricity in the air, and the wind and the rain and the— oh my god…”

“Hey, take a breath, okay?” Bill grabbed his shoulders again to pull his focus away from his swirling thoughts, mimicking a deep breath as Ranboo followed along shakily. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You probably think I’m crazy, but… there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.” Bill promised honestly.

“I had a similar vision in my class earlier today… Being here at the lighthouse with the approaching tornado.” Ranboo started, refusing to make direct eye contact but constantly peeking up at his friend’s expression to wait for it to fall into disbelief. “But last time, after I came out of it… I… I discovered that I could reverse time.” The thought voiced aloud sounded strange even to his own ears, despite the heavy weight off his shoulders that came with finally, finally telling someone. “I’m not crazy.”

“But you were high, right?”

“No, that’s—! Listen to me. It’s how I managed to save you in the bathroom!”

Bill blinked a few times, clearly trying to process everything Ranboo was saying, even as he struggled to follow along. “By reversing time? Ran, come on.”

“I saw you get shot, Bill! I saw you die! I freaked out so hard but I managed to go back enough to pull the fire alarm…” Ranboo choked back the sob that had been threatening to escape him since his first encounter in the bathroom, Bill grabbing his hands and squeezing comfortingly. “I don’t know what this is, but I have something. And it’s terrifying, Bill. I’m so scared…”

“You sound like you really need a break, man.” Bill shook his head, squeezing his friend’s hands again with a quiet, “It’s been an insane fucking day, and—”

Whatever else he wanted to say quietly trailed off as a perfectly white flake of snow fell down between the two of them. They both looked up at the same time, Ranboo pulling one of his hands free to catch one of the snowflakes before it hit the ground, the two of them staring at it in a mix of shock and awe.

“What… the hell is this?” Bill stood up, eyeing the light cloud cover overhead and the still slowly disappearing sunset. “It's like eighty degrees… How?”

“Climate change.” Ranboo joked weakly, wobbling a little as he got to his feet beside Bill, the two standing side by side on the cliff and staring out again at the sun as its light began disappearing ray by ray into the trees. “Or a storm is coming.”

Bill glanced over at Ranboo, the disbelief in his eyes slowly giving way to a grim understanding as he spoke, “...start from the beginning, then. Tell me everything.”

#life is strange #life is strange au #ranboo #ranboolive #billzo #wilbur soot #charlie slimecicle #tubbo mcyt #qtcinderella #jschaltt #writing #writing community #fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #ranboo fanfic #ranboo angst

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