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Tubbo was only 17 when he married his best friend. He was only 16 when he adopted a baby piglin. He was only 15 when he fought a man several years his senior for his first friend’s prized possessions.
The now 18-year-old sighed softly, resting his head in his hands. Exhaustion pulled at every bone in his body, and he couldn’t even bring himself to raise his head to greet his adopted son when the young piglin ran into the room. Michael had come far, speaking fluent Piglin from his lessons with Technoblade and English at home with his father. Tubbo had done his best to come to lessons whenever he could, but the language was a harsh one and he could only speak fragments. Philza confessed that it was the best he was able to do as well; non-piglins simply couldn’t make the more nuanced sounds of the language. “Papa!” The child cheered, nudging his goat hybrid father with a hoof, “guess what? Miss Eret came to visit today! An… an’ they said that I grew a whole lot!”
“Oh yeah?” Tubbo replied, a smile slipping onto his features despite his reminiscent thoughts. “Do you want me to measure you against the door?” At his son’s nod, the goat pulled himself to his feet, finding his charcoal pencil to label the height. There, against the door of Ranboo’s house, were various marks ranging from 3 feet to 4’2”. It was a little tradition they’d started, one that had come from Ponk’s order to weigh and measure the child to monitor his weight gain.
When they’d found him, Michael had been malnourished and covered in wounds. They’d faded to scars since and he’d shot up in height, along with putting more piglin-like weight on. Ranboo had been overjoyed when Ponk declared their son a healthy weight.
Tubbo marked the line that Michael came up to, pointing out the four inch height difference. “Michael, you have grown!” Tubbo said, making his voice markedly more upbeat. “Eret was right!”
Michael let out a series of joyful grunts, tapping his hooves against the wooden floor. The grunts were mostly just sounds, but Tubbo recognized the words big man! amongst them and smiled.
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“Help! P-Papa! P-p-papaaaaa…” Tubbo awoke to the panicked cries of his child and exhaled slowly through his nose. Since Sam had taken his son, the piglin had begun to have nightmares. They weren’t any regular ones, either. They were full-on terrors, leaving the piglin clammy and shaking, fearful of anything and everything. The only saving grace was that the boy had begun to call for Tubbo instead of just sobbing. The night terrors used to be so bad that he would curl in the corner, fearful of any touch because the only person he was able to see was Sam. His hooves clip-clopped gently on the floors of the hallway as he made his way through the darkness, a candle casting flickering shadows on the wall. The arctic commune was almost unnaturally cold, and Tubbo had traded his snowchester uniform for a more practical thick animal fur coat given to him by Techno. The door creaked when he pushed it open and a cold wind blew over his heart when he saw Michael’s visible flinch. The goat hybrid crossed the room quickly, setting the candle down on Michael’s bedside table and scooting onto the bed.
“Michael?” He whispered softly, voice gravely from sleep. “I’m here.”
“P-papa?” The piglin moved his hands from his eyes ever-so-slowly, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Papa.. ‘m scawed.” This was another new thing since he’d rescued his son. He could only assume that the trauma of losing his other father and then being kidnapped had pushed it, but after nightmares Michael became more childlike, relying on Tubbo more for comfort and slurring his speech.
“I know, dear.” Tubbo hummed, pulling the piglin into his lap and wrapping him in his bear fur coat. “The world’s not perfect… but it’s not that bad. We’ve got each other-” he booped Michael’s nose gently, and the boy let out a surprised chuff, “and we’ve got Techno n’ Phil. I’m your father, and I’ll hold your hand.. I’ll be there for you, okay?”
The piglin nodded slowly and turned his head into Tubbo’s chest, exhaling shakily. “Miss daddy.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly so.
Tubbo swore his heart snapped in two. “I miss him too.” He agreed, a tear slipping down his cheek before he could bite his lip. “I miss him too. The world… the world wasn’t kind to him.” The goat hybrid could still hear the screams, sometimes. Sam killed his husband and then took his son. He would pay… but not now.
For now, he would simply wrap his son in his arms.