The moment Pearl stepped on the petal, Ranboo knew that something would absolutely go wrong. I mean, you don't just start going over sixty kilometers per hour in a city and expect that everything will go your way– that is simply unheard of! Or, well, not really unheard of because of cocky and overconfident teenagers creating tons of sound pollution on flimsy motorbikes in urban areas. Either bikes or just very, very noisy cars.

Back on subject, going very fast on a road with a lot of cars never ends well. So, with that in mind, while Tommy and Tubbo holler, wide-eyed with excitement at their brains being dragged behind them as they're all dragged forward, Ranboo is clutching on the closest stable object he can find. Thing is that there are no stable objects... Every single one has already abandoned ship, having slid to the back of the van, just one –one– unlucky weight change for the doors to be forced open and the air to suck everyone out of the vehicle.

His fingers find purchase on the netted screen, right beside Tubbo, tail curling around his leg and ears twitching as the van roars with yet another gear change.

"WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOO"

"YEEEEAH BITCH!"

He can feel his heart thrumming in his eardrums and he is trying to keep calm. If you asked him, he'd say he's doing a fan–fucking–tastic job at it for the situation he's found himself in. He counts his breaths, tells himself that Pearl probably knows what she's doing as she drives towards the magic thundercloud and Xornoth is calm enough to almost convince him that nothing out of the ordinary is happening. That or he just doesn't have a survival instinct... Come to think of it, does he need to worry about a concept such as death? Y'know... since he's a demon and all? Maybe he isn't calm but resigned like he's lived through this a hundred times.

"STEP ON IT, PEARL!"

"NO!", Ranboo's measly pleas go unheard in the ocean that are Tommy and Tubbo's ridiculous amount of urging. So, he shuts up and hangs on for dear life.

Dear fucking God, they're going to die. This is so unfair, Ranboo hasn't even said a formal goodbye to The Blade yet! He hasn't written a will either– where the Hell will his plastic ducks find shelter?!

"OUT OF THE WAY!", Pearl yells with the high-pitch of a psychopath, honking at the other cars who have happened upon her way.

They pass through two crossroads with surprisingly no casualties but a lot of honking horns. Over the three–ish minutes that takes, Ranboo has convinced his heart to stay in his chest and conducted a will in the back of his mind that has as a primary goal the salvation of his secret pasta sauce that is hidden at the very back of Fundy's fridge.

(Stress wouldn't let him keep it in her fridge and their cooler was filled with water bottles so he had to make do with the resources he had left)

Following that is every piece of rip-off Blade merch that survived the explosion. He doesn't know if there is any left of the little figurines or the replica of the Orphan Obliterator but as long as there is an average of four people watching over them at one time.

...How do averages work again?

And right as Ranboo is reciting the theory of averages (if that is what it's called) that Cleo went over not a month ago, all Hell breaks loose.

The long-term honking is as normal as air whistling so that isn't what gives it away. No, no. The thing that gives it away is when Pearl steps on the brake and van swerves to the right. They all scream. 'All' meaning the crowd minus the adults in the front, one of which has put five claws through the screen and the surrounding metal and the other is cursing.

You can guess who the one cursing is, as manic as Pearl acted not two seconds ago. Ranboo thinks it's weird how she can have such spontaneous mood swings but he figures that getting into a car crash will do that to someone.

Gravity pulls him down, the speed braking pulls him forward, falling right into Tubbo and Tommy and right into Xornoth's claws, avoiding meeting the sharp ends with a lot of skill and sheer luck.

"Grab the kids!", is the last thing they hear before the van tilts. It tilts, staying at a diagonal angle for a second –long enough to give them hope that they won't barrel down the streets.

Then they're hit from behind and the van is sent tumbling.

Ranboo doesn't know how he ended up stuck on the ceiling of the vehicle, head pounding and vision blurry the moment he opened his eyes. Searching around him, he's found another hand closeby, followed by something round like a head and poking around –specifically poking an eye– his poorly put-together suspicions are confirmed. There is something sticky from where he thinks is the forehead and goodness, he can't figure out what it is.

A droplet of a mystery liquid trails down from his eyebrow, right down the side of his nose and to his lips. His tongue darts out, tastes it. He can't tell if that is copper or gasoline. God, his ears are ringing.

The screen is finally ripped off of the walls of the van, the sound grating at Ranboo's brain like a cheese grater. It hurts so bad but he can't find the energy to vocally express his opinions on it.

Somehow, he is lifted off of the ground and swang over someone's shoulder like a sack of sad potatoes. Honestly, though, fair. He does feel like a sad potato right now. A sad, sore potato to be exact. More shuffling, more ringing– they must've crashed.

There is no way they didn't! It would explain why his head is pounding, why his limbs are so numb and why the world turned on its head in a split second. This person must be an angel of god, sent to deliver his soul to the gates of heaven from which he'd immediately kicked off the cloud to the gates of Hell. Stealing is bad, not to mention conspiring with the villains and blowing up an innocent warehouse, so the punishment would be deserved.

Thinking back, they did have a demon with them, so this is probably the demon and not an angel.

Ranboo hisses when there is light in his face and his body sways in just the wrong way to produce pain. Ghosts don't feel physical pain, so that must mean that he is still alive. In that case, he's broken something, hasn't he? Or at least sprained his ankle? He wouldn't be surprised.

"You got 'em?"

Honestly, what was Pearl thinking? Speeding down roads with three kids in the most unsafe space of a van with no back seats? Seriously! That is just bad parenting and irresponsible driving too!

Wait... parenting? Where did that one come from? Haha... Well, this is awkward. He probably has a concussion. Not that the tenants don't parent them but that behavior is more common in Stress and Grian; Pearl, Impulse and Gem usually stay away and Fundy is anything but parental. The guy always encourages their conventionally-bad behavior.

He winces when he dares to open his eyes just a little. The sun that filters through is enough to flashbang him into Hell and back. Oh, there is definitely something wrong with his brain.

There are also a lot of cars ontop of each other. This isn't normal, is it? Wait a minute. Did Pearl just cause a pile-up? In the middle of a city? That is just unheard of. Looks like it's a serious one too– Ranboo can just make out the blurry shape of six cars and something in a horizontal 'Z' shape on two wheels.

They're in so much trouble, aren't they?

Before he can spiral down deeper in what this situation means for him and his friends and how the fuck they'll return to functioning like normal half-humans, there is a finger waving in circles in front of his face. He guesses that it's Pearl's because it is a shade of fair skin instead of black. Xornoth is busy piling bodies on himself anyways.

"Okay, he's responding", he hears Pearl heave a huge sigh of relief and then a hand is ruffling his hair between his horns. "Good job, Ranboo"

He hisses when the demon starts walking. It's not the pain of the new wounds he must have as the pain of a shoulder as hard as a rock being pressed right into his lower abdomen with little care. There is a groan from his right and turning his head ever so slightly, he finds that he isn't the only one whose organs are being crushed due to the laws of gravity and physics. Tommy has joined him on Xornoth's other shoulder and a leg falls on Ranboo's back as Tubbo is lifted to mount the demon's nape.

Lucky Tubbo. He gets a piggyback ride while the rest of them are left to suffer.

...He really shouldn't be thinking about the unfairness of that in this situation, should he? Eh, why does he even care? He just wants to drop on the smelly mattress in the moldy and unsanitary attic and sleep for a decade. Maybe even a century if the chaos tornado dubbed 'his friends' will let him have his way.

They've made it about ten meters away from the crash site when his vision gets somewhat better. Not quite at a hundred percent yet but it's getting there. They have made it about two more when the van explodes.

Oh.

Oh, that could've ended up way worse, then, okay– alright, yep, totally fine with a concussion and a couple broken ribs; that's fine by him! Do you even need to contemplate the choice between being cooked as well as being imploded and a bruised torso?

No. No, you do not. Of course, Pearl shouldn't have done what she's done to get them to this point in the first place but Ranboo... Ranboo doesn't have the energy to even slur his protest and hurt like a drunk sailor to interject his point.

So, he sucks it up and lets himself be carried away with minimal complaint.

(It's not like he –or any of them– really has a choice in the matter)

He doesn't even realize when his eyes close again.

*

"So, what you are telling us...", Phil starts with only the early signs of an emotional breakdown –or, hm, is it an emotional breakdown? He feels like the earth is cracking under his feet right now and he really wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole but– does it count?, "...is that that thing–", he pauses just so he can take in XD's existence again, "–is a god?"

"Basically", George mumbles, elbow resting on one knee and fist pressing his cheek inside his mouth and making his words slightly incomprehensible. Said words don't make Phil –nor Wilbur– feel any better about the situation.

"And you're suspecting that the innocent cashier is Bat?"

"Listener"

"Sure, sure, that", Phil sighs and buries his hands in his tousled hair. His hat lies forgotten beside him on the couch, crow nowhere to be found. The bird probably found a way out from the garage.

Seeing his father's crumbling demeanor, Wilbur clears his throat, gesturing with his hand like slicing through bread.

"You understand that what you are suggesting is incredulous, right?", he says, eyeing each one of the Dream Team, right in the eye. The TV is silent in the background, playing one of those hour-long adverts about a "Smart Apron" that no one cares about. "George, I trust you but this is a little far-fetched. I lived next to that man's workplace and not once did he act suspicious. Hell, he even puts up with Grian's–", he pauses. Right, yeah, they're orphans. Techno still hasn't recovered from the revelation. "With the menaces that people call children!"

"He doesn't have to act suspicious to be a villain", Sapnap says with certainty, fiery tone as always. Yeah, he's got a point there. "A new one too, who has been under The Watcher's wing for God knows how long! That's not even the end of it– the other Bat is a second Listener. XD has been near them enough to be able to tell"

"You trust that blob of a– how is that even a god?", Phil dares to challenge. Said blob, sitting comfortably on an oversized Playmobil lounge chair on the table, under a colourful paper umbrella that is perched on the edge of a glass, glares at the man. Or, well, he does his best to glare with literal letters for a face.

"I am a god, Philza", XD responds instead of the three humans behind him. "I can tell that you've been around the Watcher... his power is hanging off from your shoulders"

Phil's brain more or less short-circuits with that information. Subconsciously, he glances at his arms, expecting to see some ungodly veil of purple. "He– What– I mean; I've fought him a bunch?"

This thing is indeed a god to be able to tell that. Shit, hopefully he won't be able to delve into his mind and find out that he's conspiring with The Watcher. That would be incredibly unfair to Wilbur, who knows nothing about the deal his father made with the villain.

XD remains silent for a second. "No, that is not what I meant. His... power... is hanging off of you like a blanket"

Looking between the blob and the man next to him, Wilbur is left open-mouthed and absolutely flabbergasted. Phil isn't faring any better, though he thinks he knows why the villain's presence around him would be so obvious. How is it even obvious? That's probably a question for another time.

"What about me?", Wil asks, eager, "I've had my fair share of encounters with him"

A distorted chuckle resounds inside the room.

"His power has about swallowed you whole", the god muses, intrigued, shifting in his spot on the plastic chair. Wilbur flinches away, looks at his hands, horrified at the mere prospect of– of being around The Watcher more than he actually has –if Phil understands how this works correctly.

"I– He saved me from a villain attack a few weeks back", he admits. The blob shakes his head.

"He's marked you. Almost both of you"

"Is that...", Dream interjects, "Is that a bad thing?"

It takes a minute for them to receive a reply. "Depends on your point of view, I suppose", the god seems to shrug. How he does that with no shoulders is a mystery in and of itself. "He can watch you more closely now. Legends say that the mark of a Watcher can allow it to see through its victim's eyes"

It. The gravity of the situation finally dawns on Phil's shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, he can make out Wilbur's own surprise. They aren't talking about a villain anymore but some sort of higher being. A species of it. An intelligent species from wherever XD comes from, from a different dimension; Hell, he doesn't know how to react. Not to mention the fact that The Watcher could have been watching his family through Wilbur while all of them were oblivious to the power that's marked him.

Holy shit, this should feel like a lot has changed. Like his opponent should be viewed in a different light for some reason, to be feared more than he already is but everything remains the same in his head. The Watcher is as human as any of them. He speaks, he breathes, he sees and feels and he bleeds red and Phil can't see how that guy could be from a whole other world! Maybe it's because of his display of power that Phil's image of him hasn't changed. Maybe it's because the man revealed to them that he knew more than he let on before all of this.

The Watcher was viewed as 'otherworldly' since his debut years back.

Sapnap shakes his head furiously. "Wait a minute– So, he can be watching us right now through Wilbur?!"

A shiver runs down Phil's spine at the mention of it and Wilbur's foot starts tapping against the ground; an anxious tick. His eyes land on the miniature god on the table.

"No, I have placed a force field around the house that prevents any Watcher or Listener magic from activating", he says like talking about magic and alien beings is a normal conversation topic.

"Oh, thank God", Wilbur breathes as he falls back on the couch and sinks into the plush material.

"Which is why the guy in the garage hasn't escaped yet?", Phil questions. A nod is the simple, minimalistic, almost bored response he receives. "Great"

"It's as confusing to us as it is to the two of you, guys", Dream pipes up and right as Wilbur has risen his head to debate on one of the words the man has uttered, George raises the volume on the TV.

"–lain Pearlescent Moon was spotted at the pile up with her demon companion, carrying three unconscious children, presumably hostages, with them–"

The imagery of said pile-up is shown as the reporter continues to speak and exchange words with the News' center that is broadcasting the site live. Wait. Phil's eyes fall on the black van at the very front, that has rolled over and clearly imploded judging by the messed up hood. Smoke plumes rise from where the engine should be, any fire there was put out by the firefighters, who are currently seen rescuing some of the unfortunate who happened upon the incident.

The plate is the only thing that has survived and Phil squints his eyes at it. It is the same plate number as the van that had driven off with Grian's not-kids. The one that Pearl, a perfectly normal and kind lady (look, he's only spoken to her once or twice by chance when he visits Grian, he doesn't know), was driving.

Pearl. Pearl-escent. Fucking Hell. "No...", don't tell him that Gem, kind, wonderful Gem with her cottagecore dresses and innocent face is Gemini. Ah, shit.

Which would mean that the kids... The kids know of this, surely, because that demon was with them and– and Grian must know too. Which means that Grian is somehow involved in all of this just like Jimmy.

"What is it?", Phil is at the door before any of them can respond. Wilbur is half-way to the door when the avian turns to look at them, eyes sharp and breath caught in the back of his throat.

"I need to go to the crash", he tells them and Wilbur stops dead in his tracks for a second before he shakes his head and follows.

"I'll come with you", his son looks back at his friends, at the god still sitting in that lounge chair as if he were enjoying a vacation in the Bahamas. "George?"

The man in question stands up with a shrug but before he can go, XD sends him a half-glare. Which, no one really cares about. Phil finds it weird how XD can be so expressive without speaking in that glitchy voice of his.

"George", XD almost growls –a sound that is strangely filled with excitement rather than ire or anger. George regards him with a raised eyebrow over his round, white-rimmed sunglasses, noncommittal and nonchalant as ever.

"What?"

"Bring me to them"

Phil doesn't know what that means –other than the fact that XD will apparently be coming with. He doesn't know their history; who they're talking about but he could take a wild guess. George nods as though he understands a deeper meaning that is hidden in those four words –he always has known more than he lets on.

Phil doesn't linger longer than he has to and so he walks outside. His murder takes off from the surrounding trees, circling around the property but never coming too close, spooked by the power that XD mentioned. Getting into his car, he waits for Wilbur, who collapses into the front passenger seat without style or dramatic flare.

Out of courtesy, he waits to see if George will ride with them or take his own car. The man walks out of the house with his mushroom cup on his head and a fur-lined cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He knocks on the driver's window and Phil turns on the engine to lower the window, thinking that he has something to ask or something that can't wait.

Right as the window is down, George rests his forearm on it and with the other, he presses on the lock button on the hand rest. Phil blinks at the loud clack of the locks, taking half a second to comprehend what has just happened and another half to act–

"George, what are you–"

A light mist enters the vehicle; Phil recognizes it immediately as the hero's sleep spores but he can't for the hell of him understand why 404 is using them against them. Wilbur is yelling something in the background, banging against the door in an attempt to open it but it's futile. Only Techno would be strong enough to make the thing budge and he is at home, recovering from the revelation that Ranboo is, indeed, an orphan and not a kleptomaniac child.

"It's nothing personal", are the last words Phil hears, clear as day before his vision goes blurry and dark.

*

When he woke up, Ranboo thought he would be in a hospital room. Tile ceiling, mediocre bedding and a distinct beep beep sound coming from his bedside; the works. Then, he remembers that he was involved in a fucking car crash with a demon and a maniac, so, surely, he wasn't in a hospital of all things! Not when Doc and Mumbo weren't around to do a complete take-over with digestible explosives.

As he slowly came to, he realized that he was on something too comfortable to be in a hospital bed and distant voices clued him in that he was in one of the tenants' apartments. Either that or they've been taken back to False or some safety bunker. Ranboo can't tell which would be worse but he hopes that Stress has come to take care of them; heal them. He really doesn't want to have this migraine last the rest of the week–

Only, he doesn't have a migraine and when he unscrews his eyelids to take a look at the room he's in, he finds that he isn't more sensitive to light than normal. So, Stress is here or she was and then left–

No, no, what is he thinking? Stress wouldn't abandon them even if death was knocking at her door.

Slowly moving his arms, he finds that his limbs are sore. Fair; he did get tumbled in a rolling vehicle and almost exploded because of it. He sits up slowly and half-way through the action, he feels hands on his back and side, helping guide him so that his back is resting against soft pillows.

He blinks, looks to the side and up and finds Stress in the flesh, smiling down at him like nothing is wrong in the world. Like three roughed up teenagers weren't returned to her door; or to better word it: like no car crash had happened at all. He does his best in order to smile back but he knows that his attempt is but a sorry mimicry of a grin.

"How are you feeling?", she asks him softly, tousling his hair carefully in order to not bump into his horns. Ranboo hums in contentment.

"Better", only, the lack of noise does bother him. Where are his buddies? "Where–"

"They woke up before you and I asked them to leave you be", she says, reading his mind like it's a normal thing to do. Okay. Ranboo can live with that. Especially if it means that he doesn't have to use his voice since he just noticed that his throat is as dry as a desert. Ow. "They scampered off somewhere with Mumbo's potato peeler"

Oh.

Oh, no, they're doing it without him! Dang it, he wants to make soap roses too! Or soap rolls. Anything, really. Anything to take his mind off of the crash and the stupidity of Pearl and Xornoth.

The aforementioned demon is silently sitting in a corner, looking utterly miserable and small for a dude who stands nearly three meters tall and can only fit in a car hunched over. He is sitting facing the corner for whatever reason and when he turns to look at the other corner of the living room, he finds an equally miserable Pearl sitting there.

So, the culprits have been punished accordingly– just, not by law but by Stress. Ranboo thinks this is a little unfair. He thinks that Cleo should've had a say in what would be done with them– she is the only one who can rival Stress in child punishment. Like having them write a sentence over and over until it's all they can think about for the rest of the week or standing on one foot against the wall like a human-sized pelican.

Sitting in silence until mushrooms grow on their heads is a very light sentence for what they've done.

A knock comes from the door right then, Ranboo jolting and barely keeping himself from teleporting to the roof.

"That must be Grian–", right as Stress opens the door, a very flustered, worried and moulting Grian walks into the home. Wings ruffle and feathers –bent and unusable– fall to the floor. Ranboo feels bad, knowing that he is part of the reason why the man's wings are so messy.

"Stress, I can't reach them– I don't know what you can do but I can't watch them, they've gone straight into his mouth and it's not just Phil but Wilbur too, now, and UUUGH!", the man ends his rant by collapsing into a chair and sliding down until he was sitting on the small of his back instead of, well, y'know. He groans into his hands, fingers digging into his dirty blond hair and Ranboo really wants to do the same but he doesn't because someone has to stay calm in this house!

"Wha–", he says, confused and everything. Stress appears to know what's going on, so at least one person will be able to tell him what's going on while Grian both metaphorically and physically melts down.

"So, you know that Grian made a deal with the Crowfather, right?"

"Uh, no, not really–"

"He's been trying to reach him for the past hour or so, since Xornoth brought you all in but he hasn't found him yet... It is worrying"

"Oh, okay"

He is too tired and sore to analyze that load of information.

"Stress, what am I going to dooooo!" and the man sounds near hysterical now. Stress shakes her head and Ranboo just sinks further into the pillows.

"Well, for starters, you should calm down", is advice number one, "And then, maybe call everyone in? I'm sure you could get Blackjack to spare a few goons to do some detective work"

"Why do you need Blackjack?", Ranboo can't help himself from questioning it. "Can't Grian and Martyn go look?"

"I sent Phil to the wolf's mouth and now I can't watch him, Ranboo, they're onto us!"

"What he means is that they can't go out without risking getting caught like Jimmy", Stress whispers to him as Grian continues to ramble on and on about how Jimmy got abducted and how of course he was the one who got caught first and blah, blah, bla.

He really should go find his pals and stick his hands into whatever mess they've made in the sink.

"WAIT", Grian yells all of a sudden, making Ranboo jolt (again) and fall off of the couch. Ow. Why is Stress laughing at him? His poor tailbone! "I– I CAN SENSE HIM– uh, them?"

"Them?"

"Who is 'them'?", shakily, Ranboo stands up, holding onto Stress for what feels like a century because his legs have decided to cramp up on him. This day is going swimmingly. Sigh. "Also, why did you send Phil to the wolves?"

"Because I needed him to investigate the Dream Team's house", Grian quickly waves him off after that and quickly –so quickly, you wouldn't have seen it if you'd blinked– he walks out of the apartment; more like runs like the devil is on his tail.

"Hey, where are you going?!"

"I've got to go find him, see you later, Stress!"

"What happened to lying low!", she shouts after him but the door shuts with a muffled reply that Ranboo doesn't catch. Finally, peace and quiet.

Stress sighs, disappointed and clearly distressed with what has just transpired. Ranboo thinks that he should also be more worried than he is but he also got into a horrible car accident, so he couldn't care less in the end.

"You two", Stress regards Xornoth and Pearl. They both turn their heads just enough to peek at her out of one eye. Ranboo watches with mild interest. "Apologize to Ranboo. What you did put him and the other two in danger and not only that but now you've put us in a difficult position!"

Xornoth graces both of them with an uncaring frown, completely indifferent to the whole situation. Half-heartedly, Ranboo glares at him, barely shifting to do so. Pearl remains sheepish, giving a deep bow and formally apologizing.

Actually, how much trouble has she put them all in? The crash must've attracted more attention than the demon (who would be the only clue as to who Pearl truly was in civilian clothing) carrying three unresponsive kids. Oh wait. There is at least one witness to such events, isn't there? Such a reckless crash would also be questionable, there wouldn't be anyone who didn't pay attention.

"You are both staying inside until I say you can leave by the way", Stress orders. They must be in real trouble if she's imprisoning them in her home. "You're all over the news", she sighs, "At least they think the kids are hostages and not..."

Ah, that's good. Yes, yes, that's perfect. Note the sarcasm.

It would only take a hero from the Dream Team to put two and two together! They'd seen them be protected by the whole villain gang at that warehouse and they now have information about who exactly Pearlescent was with not two hours ago! The heroes aer dumb enough to consider every other possibility but this is too in the face not to see!

"Don't worry, Stress, they won't find out where I live! There was no footage with my face in it– just Xornoth glowering as per usual!"

Pearl's words fell on deaf ears, apparently, because Stress shook her head and left the room only to come back with the house key in hand.

"Ranboo, get out of here so I can lock these two in"

Ooookay, that escalated quickly but who is Ranboo to say no to a near-mad Stress? No one of such high importance that he'd be able to deter whatever Hell the woman would unleash on the other two behind closed doors, that's for sure! So, with a lot of strain and willpower, Ranboo hauled himself to his feet and limped out the door.

A click sounded behind him right after he shut it and he feels happy that he isn't in Stress' living room anymore when the first ceramic object shatters against the wall. Yep. Normal day in the life of Ranboo here, nothing too weird to see! Definitely!

He books it to the attic, running up the stairs– that's what he'd like to think he's doing, at least. He's limping, taking a step every two seconds like a toddler who has just learnt that stairs exist and he is thankful to some higher power that there is no one at their doorstep to watch him trip over his own feet.

When he eventually makes it, he can already hear the sweet, sweet crunching on the other side of the door. Getting the key from under the mat, he swings the door open and tumbles inside, doing a roll-over and miraculously pushing himself to his feet without falling again. He really should've enrolled into acrobatics or something; he's just too good at avoiding harm inflicted by himself on himself!

Like his spaghetti and the mystery sauce he has grown immune to.

"Holy fuck, Ranboo!", Ranboo ignores Tommy's squeal and Tubbo's high-pitched scream, scrambling to get the glitter soap from the two.

"Save some for me, guys!"

"We literally just got this, 'boo!"

"You mean stole while I was dead!"

"You weren't dead, just hit in the 'ead!"

Craaack.

The two of them immediately stop arguing. Their heads spin so fast towards the source of the sound that Ranboo is surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. Tubbo– sweet, innocent, ruthless Tubbo has a few soap curls in his hand, and he is looking at them with wide, focused eyes. There is silence for a minute and at the end of that minute, Tommy tries to pick up the argument, when–

Criiiiiick.

And he stops. Ranboo also stops thinking. What is this sorcery?! This didn't happen when they were crashing soap with Phil! Does this have to do with biology? With low and high frequencies? A sound cue? Damn it, he should pay attention to Cleo more!

"Heh", Tubbo chuckles, a grin growing on his face and boy does Ranboo dislike that mischievous glint in his eye. Look, Tubbo being mischievous is fine; great even! As long as his target isn't Ranboo!

Crick and crack and the pieces all fall down. Why does this feel so hypnotic to look at?

Ranboo reaches a hand into the puddle of soap crumbs and squishes. The material easily snaps under his brute strength, which isn't a lot –just enough to crush thin strips of soap by the looks of it.

They all snap out of this weird ass scene by a very loud, very angry and clearly very aggressive shout coming from downstairs.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY SOAP?!"

Ah, looks like they stole Gem's soap.

"FUCKING– CLEAN UP!", Tommy pushes Ranboo forward and Ranboo doesn't catch himself on time.

He eats a handful of soap. Every child yearns to know what taste glitter glue has and now, Ranboo has got the answer to all their questions!

Bad. It tastes bad. 10/10, would never eat again.

*

For Grian, his day is going fan-fucking-tastic! I mean, what better way to start your day than your mildly insane best friend and her demon pal crashing their car, have it explode, with your kids in it? Okay, technically, they aren't his kids but he's the one who has raised them! With a bit of help, of course, gods know how bad of a parent he'd be had it not been for everyone in the block of flats (thank Stress and Cleo especially), but he was the one who looked after them!

Wrong phrasing. He still looks after them! Them and a few more people outside of his close and, admittedly limited, family circle. Losing Tim was like losing his own arm– that's what it felt like, anyway. His childhood friend, who he explored all parts of the universe with was taken away from right under their noses and shoved into a house that's protected by End magic.

Isn't that great?

Grian did try to get through the barrier... once. The way it zapped him the first time was enough to clue him in to what would happen if he tried to get in by himself again. Honestly, if Phil hadn't come to him, he would've gone to him first but turns out that fate benefits the desperate.

He knew back then; he knew what could happen –that the god could easily sense his presence on the hero– and he still asked him to go. No, not asked. One can't ask when they're demanding, can they? No, they can't. So, he had basically sent Phil on a suicide mission without the guy knowing- helll, he didn't even tell him what he was sending him to look for!

Then again, one can't miss a Listener that easily, ay?

Obviously, they can't because Phil's signal had gone dead and now it's alive again and holy fudge is Grian relieved!

He doesn't care as he transforms in an alley and takes off mid-run, flapping his giant, violet-speckled wings and flying in the sky, high, high above the rooftops. He doesn't care about the onlookers, about the people who pull up their phones, about the newstrucks that will follow his trail; he cares about none of it.

Seeing through his eyes in the city, his quick search comes back dead within a second.

An attempt to reach for Phil makes shivers run up his spine. It's black. Black but with the distinct sight of light burning through his eyelids. He's sleeping but– Something is really wrong. Did the Dream Team catch on? There is no other explanation for Phil's current state other than 404's sleep paralysis spores.

The god figured him out, of course they did. What troubles Grian now, however, is that he has no idea where the hero is! Growling under his breath and sucking through his teeth, he flaps his wings harder, and faintly, he can feel his own power seeping out of his body; anger that is barely kept under control.

They dare to mess with his friends... they're subject to a lot of pain.

Martyn joins him mid-flight and Grian has half the mind to register his existence as the Listener flies beside him.

"Who are you looking for?", the question is asked loud and clear, though Grian only understands the sentiment of his friend's actions because he can't hear.

Grian can't help the shake in his voice as he accepts the help of his old friend. Listeners can't watch but they can listen. Throwing a glance at the ground, he takes note of how many people have gathered underfoot –it would only take one with super-hearing matched with a slip of the tongue and Phil's identity could be exposed.

"The Crowfather!", he yells, not before running his response through his head twice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Martyn nod and drift to the side.

Grian tries again and again to reach Phil and he succeeds; all the times he succeeds but the man's eyes remain closed. He curses, silently but he does. This situation has stressed him out too much for Tommy's bad habits not to creep their way into his brain.

Where is Tech and Wil? The question comes out of nowhere and instantly, he follows the direction of his train of thought, which has no conductor and is certainly lacking the fuel called 'sleep' but if you can't trust your sleep-deprived self then who can you trust?

...Okay, that's faulty logic. You need a cup or two of coffee first, which –you guessed it– Grian hasn't had the time to drink!

When he checks on Techno, he finds that the man has just now left the house, eyes on the road and hands on the steering wheel as he drives to the city to presumably chase him and Martyn down. Wilbur, however, is a whole other story. Grian has to raise himself and catch a strong current to glide on to dissect the image in his eyes.

The picture is blurry and dark in places, the only light he can see comes from a piece of mesh high up on one side that barely reveals what is on the other. Faintly, he can see something green as Wilbur's eyes begin to adjust– it's Phil; Phil's hero outfit; the green robes the guy refuses to part with.

They're together! That's– that's good. Possibly. Judging by the darkness and the stillness –not to mention the mesh– they've been kidnapped for whatever reason and thrown into the back of a van. Are they going to be used as leverage against him?

If so...

He glides towards Martyn, floating just above him. The man tenses, having heard him come closer.

"Listen to Ghostbur!"

He hopes the other's body blocks most of his voice from the crowd underneath. As much as he'd like to drag them both far up and away from the eavesdroppers, they need the stimuli; Martyn needs the sounds and Grian needs the view of the streets to successfully locate them.

Without another word exchanged between them, Grian drifts just a little to the side. He remains close enough to catch Martyn if he falters but far enough that they won't collide by accident.

It feels like a century has passed since they spoke when Martyn falls behind. Grian circles to rejoin the Listener's side.

"What is it?"

Martyn doesn't respond, which makes Grian's stomach drop for a second. Instead, he gestures for him to follow him to the roof of a nearby building. Grian does without thinking twice –he trusts Martyn– and he lands beside the man. The surrounding buildings and the water tank installed on the roof are enough to hide them from peering people.

"What did you hear?", Grian insists once Martyn has turned to face him. He puts a hand over his eyes to protect them from the light as the Listener morphs into his human self and he quickly does the same right after so he can actually hear what the man has to say and not have to read his lips.

"Whoever the driver is, they're driving them to the stadium, both Crowfather and Ghostbur", Martyn hurries to answer him, face grimacing with urgency. "I also heard a sort of distorted voice, I believe the god is with them"

Grian thinks that his knees have turned to jelly for a second. He can't help but think of where this situation may be leading to. Maybe he should've spent a bit more time with the kids before deciding that chasing after something so much bigger than him was a good idea.

"It's 404, it has to be", he adds to Martyn's surprise.

"Why would a hero do– Oh"

"They're trying to bait us"

"It appears so"

They both fall into silence after that. Neither of them speak, trying to think up the best way to approach the matter from the position they're in.

"Are you certain you didn't see anyone else in there?", asks Martyn. Grian shakes his head.

"No"

"Call in Blade"

"Are you crazy?!"

"I mean, yeah, I am but he's also one hell of a unit"

Grian sighs into his hands. "I don't want anyone else to get involved in this!"

Martyn, despite the obvious hesitation of the avian, grins. "Well, it looks like we need others to get involved. We're talking about an unknown god with hostages who has also kidnapped Jimmy, here"

That is when an idea strikes Grian in the head. "Blackjack", he announces, already pulling his phone out of his pocket and ringing Scar. The two are supposed to go to his apartment to discuss business matters so the chances they're still on the road are high –last he watched them, they were in a limo (which is stupid, truly, since they're driving to districts that have never seen such luxury before. "Come on, pick up"

"Are we getting his goons to come to the stadium?"

"If Scar picks up"

"Ah"

"Hello?"

"Scar! Where are you? Are you still with Blackjack?", Grian explodes right when the man answers the phone. Perhaps a little too loudly. Martyn looks at him and taps his ear with a finger. Grian puts the phone on speaker. "You're on speaker. I'm with Martyn, don't worry"

"Ah, hi, Martyn!"

"Scar!"

"What? You can block his memory if you need to, can't you? You've done it before– hey!"

There is some scuffling heard on the other end of the line, followed by Scar's voice and someone else, presumably Quackity, speaking in Spanish. It's probably all swear words until the avian wins whatever they're doing and has Scar's phone in his hands.

"At least put him on speaker!", Scar's protest is heard in the background. There's more annoyed Spanish that Grian can't understand but finds very amusing before they're put on speaker –obvious by the fact that Grian can hear himself twice when he calls for Scar.

"Watcher, you'd best have a good reason to be calling", Quackity says.

"I'm with the Listener, by the way"

"Who?"

"The second Bat"

"What do you want that can't wait until the meeting?"

Grian takes in a sharp breath but he doesn't get to reply because Martyn swipes the phone right out of his hands.

"Listen here, buddy, this is much bigger than you and Las Nevadas, so stop being so aggressive for a minute–"

Grian almost laughs when Quackity brings out all curse words he can with Scar holding him back, their voices mingling together until they come to an agreement that neither Martyn or Grian can understand.

"You have one minute to explain"

"Come to the city stadium–", Grian finally snatches his phone back.

"The Crowfather and Ghostbur have been taken hostage by 404 and we need your manpower to defuse the situation"

"Why would I help two heroes out? This doesn't concern me and it shouldn't concern you either, Watcher"

"It does concern me. It concerns all of the world, actually. You saw the cloud, right? That wasn't a power, it was a god"

Silence. Quackity mutters something to Scar but Grian can't hear what they're saying. Martyn remains patient beside him.

"A god?"

"A god, yes. Call in your goons and meet us at the entrance to the stadium and I'll explain everything to you", and as an afterthought, he adds, "Please?"

A sigh comes from the other end.

"Fine but you owe me bigtime for this, Watcher"

Then, it is Scar's voice that comes through.

"Have you contacted Pearl or Gem?"

"No, we haven't had the chance to because, y'know"

"Great, then we'll call in the reinforcements and you scope out the area until we get there, how does that sound?"

Grian feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He is so relieved that he forgets that Scar is just adding to the list of names that he'll need to erase from Blackjack's head. Or– actually, he could blackmail Pearl and Gem with this! So there are no issues here that he can see.

"You're amazing, Scar"

"I know, G–"

Grian hangs up before he can finish the sentence. He throws one look at Martyn and it isn't long before they're flying again, this time with a set destination. The stadium isn't very far away, so back-up should arrive on time if the streets aren't blocked.

He just hopes that any other heroes will stay out of this but thinking of every scenario where everything goes wrong (and according to Murphy's law, the chances of that not happening are way too low), he doubts that will be the case.