Ranboo was… really nervous.

Ranboo was nervous most of the time, a sort of ongoing anxiety keeping him tense, waiting for his worst fears to become reality on a daily basis. But this was different. He didn't just feel tense, he felt dread pooling in his stomach making him nauseous, he felt his hands clam up and they couldn't quite stop moving. He felt his throat catching, stopping any understandable sound from leaving his mouth.

Despite how he felt, he couldn't let anyone else in the room see his unreasonable panic.

Phil and Technoblade had invited him over for dinner, at 6 p.m. sharp. He arrived in this state, unable to shake it off, but also incapable of leaving to recover in his shack.

So, with a fake smile and shaking hands held behind his back, he had entered and sat on a sofa waiting for the food to finish cooking, Phil sitting across from him in a large chair usually reserved for Techno when he read his stories besides the fire.

"So, how are you mate? Any interesting updates on Enderchest's new kits?" Phil spoke in a casual tone, doing little to calm Ranboo's rushing thoughts. Ranboo just shrugged, leaning his head down with a faint smile. Phil just smiled back at him, eyes chasing Ranboo's darting heterochromic ones. His eyes felt especially unnerving, aggravating even.

"Fine." Ranboo managed to whisper out past the thing blocking his words. The sudden urge to say something else, entirely inhuman, overwhelmed him. But he kept silent, doing his best to focus on Phil's next words.

"Well both me and Tech are happy you came over. As reclusive as he can be, he needs to socialize sometimes, plus he likes you and one hundred percent is hoping you'll like his favorite loaded baked potatoes. So, you better mention how much you appreciate them! Or else he'll be sad and that just means that he'll pretend not to care." Phil said it jokingly, laughing mirthfully afterwards, but his words pressed on Ranboo, causing his anxiety to flare up and his throat to convulse. He fought to keep still and keep the friendly, shy expression on his face. A shattered laugh escaped him, like glass breaking quietly. It was blatantly nervous and not entirely normal, but with a glance, Ranboo saw that Phil was unbothered.

A lovely smell entered the lounge as Technoblade entered, cooking mittens on his hands and a tray of freshly baked potatoes held out for Phil and Ranboo to observe. Even though they smelled wonderful, Ranboo's stomach flipped at the thought of eating them.

"Food's ready." Technoblade told them, leaning slightly to the side to allow room for them to move past him to the 'dining room'. It was a simple wooden doorway that led to a homey, small and slightly cluttered room with a round wooden table of surprisingly good craftsmanship for a cabin in the snowy north. Ranboo supposed that one of the two had made it themselves.

He stepped beside one of the rather oddly shaped chairs and paused.

All Ranboo had to do was sit through dinner, not make his unstable emotional state known, and head home.

That was it.

It… probably wouldn't be too hard. He probably, maybe wouldn't mess it all up and be a horrible guest. He wasn't really very sure about any sort of table manners or anything to do with being welcomed into someone's home. It's not like he'd had much experience.

The sound of a cleared throat caused his eyes to clear, away from his scrambling thoughts. Phil was looking at him kindly, motioning for him to take a seat. Ranboo's cheeks flushed and he nodded nervously, fingers tapping and fiddling with the underside of the wooden table. Technoblade set the tray of steaming potatoes down in the middle and began placing various toppings around it so as to plate to taste.

The food made him squeamish, so he did not move from his spot to take any as Philza did, heaping pulled pork and bits of carrots onto the starchy base, a cup of milky tea on his right. Eventually Technoblade took a seat for himself, but before he filled his plate he looked at Ranboo.

Straight at Ranboo.

IN HIS EYES.

Ranboo's breath hitched, his own eyes widening. His entire body tensed at the attention, only daring to quiver in fear and discomfort. He fought to keep his mouth shut and the sounds that raged at him to escape. It would've felt so natural, so normal to respond the way he should the way he would. But this was his friend, his companion, someone he trusted. Someone he didn't want to hurt or be afraid of, even though he was, he was so afraid. He was trembling.

With tremendous effort, he managed to pull his eyes away and relax the slightest amount to take the smallest potato on the tray. He could only guess that Technoblade had wanted to know why he wasn't eating. He put salt, pepper, and butter on it with a few salad leaves beside it. A quick glance in Technoblade's direction proved that he had still not stopped looking at him and it caused Ranboo to bristle, wanting so much to make himself larger, but only doing the opposite as he curled in on himself to be a bit less there.

"This is great Tech', just about as good as all the other one hundred times you've made it this year." Phil said, his voice cheery and nonchalant. Techno only grunted in response, still painstakingly focused on Ranboo. He itched to disappear, to leave, to not exist just, SOMETHING that would take him away from the unrelenting gaze of the frightening warrior, but he couldn't, he just couldn't.

He stared at his plate, with the sickening, but probably actually delicious food in front of him, wafting heavy fumes of mouthwatering glorious scent up into his nose, making him want to gag when his stomach reacted by dancing around his abdomen in circles. What could he do? He was stuck, completely and utterly stuck. He either took a bite and threw up on his friends' table or refused to eat and faced Technoblade's gaze, which would likely lead to a breakdown on his part that he had no desire to experience.

"Ranboo. Are ya' alright? There isn't anythin' wrong with the food is there?" The first time Technoblade spoke since arriving at the table and Ranboo couldn't respond. If he opened his mouth, he had no idea what would come out. Words? An empty stomach? Or… screams. Unnatural sounds to most ears that sounded like the cries of help and vengeance to his own. His instincts wanted him to stand, stare back at Techno and claw at him till his eyes closed, forever. To screech into the evening air until he couldn't hear anything else.

But he couldn't let that happen.

So he didn't move.

He didn't speak.

Everything was silent and white and overwhelming in that.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He reacted.

And then it was sweat and movement and then no movement.

It was heavy breathing and sounds blocking out other sounds.

It was eyes into eyes and blackness hiding them.

And then it was cold and difficult then grass and soot.

Then he woke up. He was in the L'manburg crater. And he didn't remember.

He couldn't remember.

So he returned home advancing his plans.