Chapter Text
“This’ll be good or you,” Puffy spoke up, “I know you’ve had it really rough recently, but I know this man personally and I think he’s the one.”
Ranboo shrugged in acknowledgement, keeping his eyes trained on the scenery outside of he car window an his hands clasped to the plastic drawstrings that came from the black trash bag holding all of his belongings sitting between his feet on the floor of the car.
“Please, Ranboo, just give him a chance.”
Puffy was Ranboo's social worker. Well, her real name was Cara, but Ranboo had given her the nickname when he saw a stuffed sheep in her office many years ago.
“Ok, silent treatment, I get it, but can you at least tell me how you’re feeling?” She tried,
“I'm-I'm feeling pretty nervous.” Ranboo mumbled out.
“That's completely valid, do you still feel grounded or do you want to go through some exercises?” Puffy asked, and of course she would. Ranboo could not have asked for a better and more understanding social worker, but he had to admit constantly being reminded of his diagnoses and how there were all of things things that made him farther from normal didn't exactly feel the best.
"I think I'm alright." He added,
“Alright, well, you’re allowed to be nervous, you're allowed to feel things, but don’t let it consume you, even if it’s expected because of what-what happened... last time.” Puffy stuttered towards the end of her small speech, his last foster home was probably going to be a touchy subject for a while. Well, not probably, it would be a touchy subject. Any level 5 would be.
Ah, the levels. They had been created by some older foster kids in the system, and got passed down as the went on. Most of the local foster kids knew what they were, even some social workers and group home operators picked up on them, but they were made and meant for the kids. It was nice though, to feel like you were in control of just one little thing. There were 6 levels in all.
A level 0 was one of the best things you’d could hear. It meant you were getting adopted. Ranboo had seen some level 0's and he'd seen the excitement that came with them and how everyone would congratulate the person. He just hoped one day he'd get to experience that.
A level 1 wasn’t necessarily good but it wasn’t bad either, it was made to be a response to a level 2 and pretty much meant I’m safe for now or I don't think I’m going to be in any immediate danger.
A level 2 meant that you were moving or being placed with a new foster family and for everyone to be ready for a level change at any time.
A level 3 was also a response to a level 2, it meant things were either going south and were going to be going south soon. Seeing a level three definitely sparked anxiety because it could entail a range of things. It could mean someone was going to get electronics taken away so they wouldn't have form of communication or it could mean they were aware of the fact they were going to get hit in the near future.
A level 4 meant that you needed a place to lay low for a while. Running away was quite a common act in the foster system, and as much as that sucks, sometimes you just need to get away, and sometimes the parents don't come looking.
A level 5 was the worst, it meant the police and your social worker needed to be called and normally also meant a trip to the hospital as well. The only Level 5 Ranboo had ever experienced was his own.
There was a group chat with 11 local foster kids that Ranboo somehow ended up being added to a couple foster homes ago during a school lunch, he barely even remembered the kid who put him in it. Maybe his name started with a T? It didn’t really matter, all that mattered was Ranboo's brick of a phone could barely open the internet, so its sole purpose was to be apart of that group chat, even if Ranboo didn’t really know any of them, it was an unspoken rule that foster kids were there for other foster kids. I mean, here he is in a group chat for a group of foster kids that all go to the same school when Ranboo hasn't even been there for about 4 years, but they didn't make him leave and they didn't care that Ranboo was never really active in the group chat, yet they were the ones who called 911 when he called the group chat, running through a town he didn't know completely out of breath, panicking with eyes clouded from the blood from a split eyebrow yelling out 'Level 5! Level 5! Please help me! Oh God please!" without any hesitation, they were the ones who checked up on him and and made sure he was safe and back in the system and they didn’t even know his first name. He probably owed them his life, and he's barely talked to them since.
The group chat had been relatively quiet for a few days, nothing much happening, so getting a call from the one number who didn't have a nickname was slightly concerning,
"Hello?" Dream said picking up the call, he was instantly met with the sound of heavy breathing and shoes running against pavement, "Yo, what's going-"
"Level 5! Level 5! Please help me! Oh God please!" The panic in the unknown boys voice was so thick it was almost tangible,
"What?! Um, okay, okay, where are you, we'll figure this out." Dream said
"I don't know, I can't see, I can't see, there's so much blood, I'm gonna die, please help me," The voice sobbed out,
"You're not gonna die, take a breath, can you share your location?"
More and more people started to trickle into the call only to be horrified when finding out they were hearing a live Level 5.
Every now and then, someone would text, asking for an update, whether it be on his living situation, his physical health, his mental health, or something completely unrelated Ranboo never gave an in depth response, but they still included him and even ended up called him “Weedy”, mainly because 1. They didn’t know his name, and 2. His number at a “420” in it. Very clever.
Most of the conversations went a little like this-
2:40 pm: *Dreamy is now online*
2:41 pm: Dreamy- Hey, anyone heard from Weedy recently? /srs
2:41 pm: *Snapmap is now online*
*Big Man is now online*
*Gogy is now online*
*Wilby is now online*
*King Shit is now online*
*The Blade is now online*
*Niki is now online*
*Tubbster is now online*
2:42 pm: Snapmap- I don’t think so?
2:44 pm: Gogy- yeah i haven’t
2:44 pm: Big Man- not me
2:44 pm: Wilby- nothing over here
2:45 pm: King Shit- radio silence
2:45 pm: The Blade- is he still in the gc?
2:45 pm: *(802)-420-6581 is now online*
2:46 pm: Tubbster- you guys realize he’s still in the group chat and can see this, you can just ask him
2:46 pm: Niki- ^
2:47 pm: Dreamy- Hey Weedy, how’s life been treating you?
2:47 pm: *(802)-420-6581 has gone offline*
2:54 pm: *(802)-420-6581 is now online*
2:54 pm: (802)-420-6581- *thumbs up emoji*
2:54 pm: Dreamy- You discharged from the hospital yet?
2:58 pm: Gogy- dream.
3:01 pm: Dreamy- Sorry, probably a touchy subject.
3:05 pm: Dreamy- So are you making it to a new place any time soon?
3:16 pm: (802)-420-6581- i’ll be in the system for a bit
3:17 pm: Snapmap- That really sucks man, how’re you holding up?
3:30 pm: (802)-420-6581- *thumbs up emoji*
3:32 pm: Niki- let us know if/when you’re getting placed, we're here if you need anything else too :)
3:32 pm: *(802)-420-6581 has gone offline*
“Yeah, it's whatever.” Ranboo said, brushing it off like it was nothing, but it wasn’t nothing, and he couldn’t help as his eyes trailed down to his wrist that was still encased in a hard, purple cast, and even though it came almost all the way up his forearm, he could still see the purple and yellow bruises peaking out from behind it. He could almost hear his own screams and begs for it to stop. Almost.
“We’re almost there, so prepare yourself for that first awkward meeting.” Puffy tried to joke, but the air remained stiff with tension.
As the little champagne colored car pulled into the driveway of a house that looked just a little too nice, Ranboo took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When it occurred to him. That group chat had been there for him, and they still are. They don’t know him and yet they’re willing to help. They play video games on call sometimes and they never force him to join but he’s always invited, they never make him talk about things if he doesn’t want to or even talk period, they never threaten to kick him out, they’re there for each other and they joke around and have fun, and maybe Ranboo should lean into them a little more. They’re the only constant he's has had for years and he’s never taken advantage of it. They helped him get out of one of the scariest experiences in his life, they deserve to know he’s moving, and Ranboo likes the idea of people being there if something goes wrong.
“Are you ready? Or do you need a second?” Puffy asked, smiling softly,
“Can I just...” Ranboo trailed off as he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out,
He opened the group chat, they hadn’t really been active today, the last text sent was from “Tubbster” and it was a photo that Ranboo's phone was too slow to open.
6:21 pm: *(802)-420-6581 is now online*
6:21 pm: (802)-420-6581- Level 2
And just with two words, Ranboo's phone started vibrating within seconds,
6:21 pm: Dreamy- ?
6:21 pm: Gogy- Good luck!
6:21 pm: Niki- Hope everything goes well <3
6:21 pm: Big Man- Keep us updated
6:21 pm: Wilby- Good luck man, hopefully it’s for good
6:21 pm: The Blade- let us know if anything happens
6:21 pm: Tubbster- right at dinner time, nice
6:22 pm: (802)-420-6581- Thanks guys, it really means a lot
Ranboo smiled down at the screen, turned his phone on silent, then stuffed it far down into his trash bag. He didn’t know this family’s rule for cellphones but he wasn’t going to give his up just yet, so it’s best to hide it.
“Alright,” Ranboo says, standing and stretching his legs for the first time after the long car ride. Puffy leads him up to a white door frame and knocks.
A... teen, maybe? with curly brown hair answers the door, and Ranboo's almost 100% sure he’s not legally old enough to foster.
“Oh! We didn’t expect you before dinner, don’t worry though, let me just get my dad.” The teen says before turning around leaving Puffy and Ranboo standing on the porch.
“You could’ve at least invited them in!” An exasperated voice sounds as it rounds the corner and a man appears. He had short blonde hair and blue eyes that were surrounded by smile lines. He was wiping flour, or something similar, off of his hands and onto a hand towel that he was holding,
“Sorry about that, come in, come in, you must be Ranboo?” The man asked stepping aside for them to walk in, Ranboo nodded in response but didn't meet the mans eyes, instead he setting for trailing slightly behind Puffy as they walked in.
“I’m Phil, sorry this is a bit scuffed, we weren’t expecting you until later, but that’s alright, now you’ll just have some extra time to settle in before dinner,’ Phil says to Ranboo before turning to Puffy, “Is there anything that we need to go over?” he asks,
“Just a few things, nothing too big but I think it’d be best if we went somewhere more private,” Puffy suggested,
”Of course, Will, can you show Ranboo around a bit?” Phil says to the teen with curly brown and the pair turn to start the house tour.
Phil leads Puffy into a smaller side room, which appears to be some kind of office of sorts, and takes a seat behind a desk while motioning for Puffy to sit in a nearby armchair.
Puffy pulls a manila folder out from a bag she had been carrying on her side, "Alright, I think it'd be good to briefly go over everything again, but it shouldn't take too long since we've already covered most of this on the phone."
Phil nodded, and took the folder she had slid across the desk and removed the packet of papers.
CHILD INFORMATION AND CHARACTERISTIC CHECKLIST FOR FOSTER CARE AND/OR ADOPTION
NAME OF APPLICANT: Ranboo Ender
APPLICANT'S PHONE: (802)-420-6581
NAME OF REPRESENTING AGENT: Cara Herd
ASSIGNED SEX AT BIRTH: Male
BIRTHDAY: December 31st
AGE: 17
PLACEMENT HISTORY:
- Child has had previous foster placement(s)
BIRTH HISTORY:
- Low birth weight/premature
DEVELOPMENTAL ISSUES:
- None
DENTAL:
- Has completed braces
ALLERGIES/RESPRATORY ISSUES:
- Allergies (food- nuts)
- Allergies (environmental- pollen)
- Asthma (treatment required- prescribed inhaler)
OTHER MEDICAL CONDITIONS:
- Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder
-
Seizure Disorder other than Epilepsy
Note: Applicant has seizure like activity during nightmares - Previous Medical Hospitalizations
MEDICATIONS:
None
SLEEPING ISSUES:
- Nightmares
- Insomnia
-
Sleepwalking
Note: Applicant has hurt themselves while sleepwalking
DIETARY/EATING ISSUES:
- None
MENTAL/EMOTIONAL HEALTH:
- Requires Counselling/Therapy
- Refuses Counselling/Therapy and/or medication
MENTAL HEALTH DIAGNOSIS:
- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
- Depersonalization Disorder
- Derealization Disorder
- Dissociation
- Depression
- Anxiety
EDUCATION:
- High achiever when motivated
- Achieves below average grades
- Has academic problems frequently
- May need tutoring in one or more subjects
- Academically behind due to poor attendance
TEMPREMENT/PERSONALITY:
- Shy
- Withdrawn/tunes out
- Quiet
- Respectful
- Timid
- Anxious
- Compulsive
BEHAVIORS/CHARACTERISTICS:
- Rocking (self stimulatory)
- Difficulty in attaching
- Fearful
- Self-Abusive/Self-Harming
- Suicidal Thoughts
OTHER BEHAVIORS:
- Applicant is a runaway risk
FAMILY HISTORY:
- Applicant should have no ties to birth family AND previous foster families
- Physically abused
- Psychologically/Emotionally abused
HISTORY OF ONE OR BOTH PARENTS:
- Agency has no information on Birth Mother
- Agency has no information on Birth Father
As Phil finished reading through the packet, he nodded before setting back into the folder, "Nothing I'm too concerned about." He assured,
"I really appreciate you opening your home up for him, Phil, but he's..." Puffy paused, trying to find the best way to put this, "He's got a lot of trauma. And he really struggles sometimes."
"Could you elaborate so I could maybe help him better?" Phil asked,
"Well, he has flashbacks. You can't really do anything to stop them other than try to avoid triggers, but we don't really know what all of the triggers are. Just be there for him when he comes out of it. The depersonalization, derealization, and dissociation can get really bad and he has to be grounded and helped back to reality or he could hurt himself. Give him some time and hopefully he'll open up, but I don't think it'll be anytime soon." Puffy finished,
"We'll manage, but thank you for letting me know." Phil smiled.
"I think that's about everything, I'll say my goodbyes and then be on my way." Puffy finished,
"Alright, well, I'm Will, as you heard. The house isn't too big so the tour won't take too long," Will started, motioning to the house around him, "We're obviously in the living room, the room you walked in through is the mud room, that's where you'll leave your jacket and shoes."
Ranboo's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't taken his shoes off and he was already a few steps into the house, he didn't want to ruin everything before he even set down his things, "Should-should I take off my shoes?" Ranboo said, a little too quickly,
"No, no, it'll be alright as long as you're not tracking in mud everywhere." Will smiled, "Now if you follow me-"
The rest of the tour involved the kitchen, which was straight through the living room, this is where he met Techno, who was stirring a put of something begrudgingly as is glasses fogged up from the steam, and in the kitchen there was a bathroom to the right, straight back against the farthest wall was a door the the backyard, and on the left was a staircase that lead to all of the rooms.
At the top of the stairs there were six doors, three on each side. The first door to the left was Tommy's room. Will explained that Tommy was another one of his brothers, and they were closest in age, both being 17. The next room to the left was a bathroom, it connected Tommy's room and the third bedroom, which was later found out to be Techno's. On the right side, the first door belonged to Phil, next was Wilbur's room, and finally there was one last room. Ranboo's room. Peaking in, he could see the walls were painted a cool shade of grey and the floor was hardwood. In the far left corner there was a bed which looked fairly large much to Ranboo's delight, he was not a small teen. Along the far back wall there was a wooden desk with a window right above it. The curtains weren't sheer but they definitely weren't blackout curtains either. Ranboo couldn't exactly tell from the angle he was standing at but the window didn't appear to be bolted shut. On the bed there were two blankets, both black in color, one was a comforter and the other was a fuzzy throw blanket, obviously layed out for him to choose one or the other. There was a closet along the right wall, almost big enough to walk into but Ranboo doubted he'd be here long enough for it to ever become full.
That was a problem Ranboo seemed to have. He could find foster families with no problem, but the hard part was staying in them. Most of the time, they'd see how Ranboo responded to his trauma and decided they bit off more than they could chew and send him back, which doesn't exactly hep the trauma either. One family he had saw him dissociate one time and tried to get him an exorcism. He was removed from that family within hours of the news leaking.
"Sorry it's a little bare, it was a guest room less than 24 hours ago," Will laughed, "I'm sure we'll go shopping soon to get out some clothes and school supplies so you can probably get some decorations then too." he finished, looking around the room,
"Alright, well, I'll leave you to unpack," Will said as he turned to go back downstairs,
Ranboo looked around the room, eyes trailing down to his own hard, purple cast, then to the black trash bag he was carrying and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. This was the start of something, that's for sure.