Chapter Text
Everything felt warm. And sticky. It chose to focus on the warmth though, It didn't get to feel warm very often. Or ever.
The sticky thing was on Its face, over Its eyes. It couldn't see very well because of that. Everything felt fuzzy, like It was observing the world the same way Papa observed It: through tinted glass, from a distance. Like It was dangerous, like It would hurt anything that came close to it.
It tried to reach up with a hand to wipe the warmth off, but couldn't. Its arm didn't listen and didn't move. Just trying to shift Its head felt like a workout, one of the physical tests Papa had It do. It managed to open Its eye a bit further and the warmth on Its face that had dried already crinkled with the movement.
What was this place? It wasn't in Its room, or the communal park. Everything looked too real for it to be the park. Was It… outside? In the real world? There were no white walls as far as It could see.
What was It doing before coming here? Everything was dark and cold and scary. This place wasn't dark and cold, but It was still a little afraid. It tried to get up and stop laying in place just waiting for something, anything to happen. It should take initiative, prove It could be smart like the others, and obedient too.
It should find Papa.
The child took one step before collapsing again, unconscious.
Things in the Regime were going… rough, one could say. He'd managed to fix all the leftover Wither damage done to the factory by now, and he didn't know what else to do. Haiper was on medical leave, Ash was struggling on his own, probably black out drunk at his Pondering Palace. He didn't even want to think about "Fit", and Katie was in mourning.
Tubbo decided to take a stroll around spawn and let his thoughts run wild. Maybe he'd come across someone and distract himself. It had been a while since he'd mingled with the other islanders, what were they up to recently? He checked the factory one last time and made sure everything was running the way it was supposed to, then he took out his warpstone and went to spawn.
Tubbo spared a second or two to orient himself and let the dizziness of teleportation fade away gradually. The usual sight greeted him when he opened his eyes- a calm breeze and bright sunlight. It was nice and warm today, a good reprieve after the past few days of rain. Nothing much had changed since he last came to spawn weeks ago. The builds were the same as always, shops open and bustling, a bloody child on the ground- what.
He sprinted to the head of black hair barely hidden by the tall grass and kneeled next to them. It was a child, male. Four years old, maybe five? He was covered in blood. Bathed in it. It was making his hair cling to his head, and probably shut the kids eyes closed. Tubbo, fearing that he'd just come across a crime scene, reached out a hand to the kid's neck, searching for a pulse. It was there, thankfully. Fluttering a bit faster than it should, but strong and present.
The kid was alive, thankfully. Tubbo allowed himself a moment to just breathe in the relief then got to work. His eyes scanned the child for injuries, trying to find where all that blood had come from, but there were no injuries major enough to be responsible. Nothing hidden in the boys hair, or somewhere else. The only thing on the boy were bruises, and a sluggishly bleeding, shallow x shaped cut on his cheek. Definitely not large enough to produce the blood covering the boy as if he had swam in it.
After he reassured himself that no, the kid won't die if Tubbo moved him, there were no injuries to be worried about- he put one arm behind the kids shoulders while the other supported his legs. Then he lifted the kid up, grunting with the effort but ultimately having no trouble. All that weightlifting came in handy as it always did and Tubbo was able to carry the boy with him as he warped back to the Regime. What a long walk he'd gone on, huh.
Tubbo considered his options, then made a beeline to the Regime Tower. In the Pantheon, the Shaft did not have the necessary privacy and he didn't want to intrude in on Ash's office. The factory was in no way suitable for a recovering child- so to Fit's unused office he went.
He laid the child down (he was lighter than he should be) and reached for the med kit that every room was equipped with. He'd personally made sure of that when all of this was being built, he'd even stocked each kit alone.
Tubbo paid no mind to the pinging of his communicator. If it was that urgent, whoever was messaging him would be able to find him anyway. Everyone knew he spent most of his time in The Regime. He continued to focus on cleaning and patching up the boy.
■■■■ Was spotted near your portable radar at 'The Regime'
Tubbo_ Was spotted near your portable radar at 'The Regime'
Ash stared at the text and wondered. Hm. He also sent a few messages to Tubbo asking what was going on and what he was doing with an entity or whatever that was.
"Ahem."
His eyes flickered up from the screen to Ewron's impatient face, screwed up in agitation. He didn't do anything to apologize, why should he? His hands tucked his communicator back into his pocket anyway.
"What's more interesting than our plans, Ashswag?" The man in question asked pointedly. He'd been talking on and on again, no end to it in sight. "Regime business. I have to go, can we have this conversation another time?"
If this "■■■■"was bothering his Chief of Engineering, he'd have to intervene. What if it was a fed stalking Tubbo and he hadn't noticed? (It was a reach, he knew- Tubbo was too aware of his surroundings to miss an entire man on his tail.) Ewron huffed, his tail bristling, clearly very clearly upset at him. He uncrossed his arms and took out his warpstone, his boat swayed under his feet as he swiveled around for another dramatic exit. This absolute drama queen.
"I will message you, Ash. Goodbye."
Ash raised a hand to wave as Ewron's form flickered away.
Tubbo raised his forehead from the couch cushions as he heard footsteps approaching him. The click-click of Ash's heels that he wore even in fights -somehow- alerted him to just who was here, and he smiled. Treating the child had taken quite a toll on him when he'd had to change his clothes. He'd been in bloodied and ripped hospital gowns, which hid bandages covering expanses of his skin. Tubbo didn't know just where the kid had come from, but it was clear to him- it'd been nowhere good.
No child should have his entire forearm covered in needle marks. Or cuts made too clean for it to be anything other than intentional, wrapped in a clearly professional way. All these injuries were no coincidence. Tubbo tried hard to clear his mind of sunlight and eggs, reminiscing would do him no good here. He had to focus on the present.
If he found out that the fucking feds had something to do with this-
"Who is this?"
Tubbo ripped his eyes away from the still-sleeping child and looked at the man standing next to him, his arms crossed and hidden face expressionless as always.
"I don't know, Supreme Leader."
Tubbo couldn't tell what Ash was thinking as he leaned forward to get a better look at the kid. His face was covered in glitches as always, no sliver of skin showing. Made it hard to read his expressions when Tubbo only had his body language to go off of. And he kept his posture in check all the time. One of Ash's hands reached forward to brush some hair away from the kid's sweaty forehead and Tubbo relaxed. He knew Ash wasn't as cruel as he wanted people to believe, and he knew that Ash wouldn't let a kid suffer alone.
Tubbo got up from the office chair he'd pulled closer to the couch where the kid (they really needed a name) was sleeping. Ash just nodded at him and settled in his place. He needed a break from all this stressing, handling some work on the Death Star would keep his mind off things. Hopefully. Probably.
Tubbo trusted Ash to take care of the kid, without any doubts.